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I am...a New Yorker
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Sunday, September 23, 2001
No Social Mariah
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The sidebar is n heat at the moment. It's not a pretty sight. Leopard-prnt panties have gone to its head.

I am...really down this week because my three great, if untraditional loves are elsewhere and, more importantly, elsewhom as it were. One sngng her praises while she belittles, the next pollutng the gene pool with a soul mate who is dumb as a bag of hair and the third whose wife has some chronic, imagnary ailment. I bet she'd have to fnd a way to get her ass out of bed if she didn't have a husband supportng her.



My friend (or as I refer to him now that I'm n my '30s, "my sperm") Pete sent me some depressng email forward today about what would you do if you or your great love or best friend were dead today and you weren't open with how you felt. Of course, such heart-tuggng forwards presume a) that you're some uptight white with their true feelngs locked away somewhere deep down and b) your hometown hasn't experienced a terrorist attack durng the past two weeks so all you can thnk about is if you'll see people agan and if you'll ever get good head before everythng else blows the fuck up.



I ostensibly have this big lesbian followng onlne, but it doesn't seem to translate to any real-life nookie. Am I only loveable from afar? Where have all the good lesbians gone? Surely there were none at Flamngo on Friday, so full of horny straight boys it was, nor at Crazy Nanny's so full of test tube testosterone. I don't even like my men with mustaches! I had to leave before I hit on the wrong woman and got beat down by a mean, muscle dyke.



Not that I know how to hit on anyone, mnd you. I must have been asleep n class that day. I'm either so puppylovestruck my face is like a glowng beacon of lust or I've got a great poker face and only discover mutual feelngs once I'm safely ensconsced 3,000 miles away.



Woody Allen might have been right, that bisexuals have twice as much chance gettng a date on Saturday night, but 2 x 0 is still 0.



Really, if I'm gong to have a personal web site or three, why not use it to my own personal advantage? Sure I've got a big mouth...all the better to eat you with, my dear. I'm basically a good sort, even if a bit testy. Just imagne how else that passion might be applied.



Hey, I confess I'm a bit fucked up, but so are you! All thngs considered, I'm a pretty good catch: a cook n the kitchen, a whore n the bedroom (and also the kitchen) and a political commentator n the livng room. I don't do wndows, or dishes, but just about anythng else, if you get my drift.



Relatively womanly dykes? Fem boys? Big, beefy and stoopid guys (the strong, and very importantly silent type)? Three-digit IQ preferred, but who'm I fooln'? It's Armageddon and lust is more realistic than love at this pont.

[Next entry: "Not so Glittery"]
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