Hey everybody, I'm a lesbian now
Ellen Degeneres is gay. So is
Elton John. Who's gonna come out next, Liberace?
Neil Sadaka? Jane Hathaway?
Big fucking deal. Here's what I
want to know: Who in the fuck thought Ellen and
Elton were straight? Those are the people that
scare the bejesus out of me. I knew Elton was gay
before Elton did.
"After my marriage I knew
something wasn't right with me," Elton once said
in an interview. Really? When did it hit you? When
you were sucking tits and imagining cocks in your
mouth? (Hot tip: Straight guys don't do this. We
suck tits and imagine other women's tits in our
mouths.)
I'm sorry, but you're going to
have to get a better outing for me to pay
attention. How about Clint Eastwood jerking off a
horse? Run that on page one of the Post if you
want to amaze me. (Another hot tip: Michael
Flatley, circa 2010 -- "I guess I was fucking all
those women because I was in denial about being a
gay river dancer.")
I guess I'm thinking about this
lately because I was having an internet
conversation with my old friend Michael D. when he
confirmed that Terry C. had recently announced
that she was coming out as a lesbian.
What the fuck? There should be a
party. A big soiree with pictures splashed on the
society pages. "Terry C. comes out!" On the
opposite page, a picture of me, baseball cap
tilted, cigar hanging out of my mouth and a
perplexed look on my face with the caption, "Wait
a minute... I fucked her!"
I met Terry C. in acting class,
specifically Joan Lee's Principles of Acting 1A. I
got to tell you -- nobody fakes an orgasm like a
lesbian actress. Terry C. and the C. stood for
collosal, as in C. -- when you were sucking my
dick it really seemed believable.
I can imagine how she's
rationalizing her past now. Too bad I can't
interview her. Or can I?
And that's what pisses me off. I
finally fuck a lesbian and nobody tells me.
Actually, that isn't quite true.
I did fuck an ex-lesbian. I always wondered about
that, but I never asked.
Q: Why did you go from women to me?
A: Because your cock reminds me of Amanda
Gurlick's clit.
Don't ask boys, don't ever
fucking ask.
Her name was Misty. She was blond
and about 4'10" and used to be in the Oakland
motorcycle club Dykes on Bikes. She made rattles
out of kelp. I still have one of these rattles.
It's long, black, has a purple crystal on the tip
and a big black kelpy bulb at the bottom. She
sells them to kids. Turn them upside down and you
can sell them to moms.
So there you have it. One turns
lesbian, another turns straight. I think I know
why. When someone's going down on you, close your
eyes. Never keep your eyes open, or pretty soon
you start to think, "Hey... that looks good. I
want some." It's human nature.
Again I ask, whatever happened to
bisexuality? I can understand bisexuality. That's
just a way to double your odds of getting laid.
But to change horses in midstream, I don't know.
And I don't care.
Cause I'm a lesbian now. I'm not
kidding. I wear combat boots, smoke cigars, got
short hair, lick pussy and I never, ever fuck
(unless it's with a strap-on).
Only problem is... flannel makes
me itch.
* * *
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be
funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're
on your own. Copyright 1998 by Mike Jasper.
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