I am running around with girls on a wet Tokyo afternoon. The rain makes the neon lights sizzle. One of the girls complained about her plastic sandals being soaked in a puddle. I stop and help her off them, drying them with some tissue paper I had in my purse. At some point we part ways. I’m off to see a show at a museum and she is headed somewhere else.
I went to a party thrown by a friend who happens to be a male-to-female transexual. I was really excited to go because I wanted to meet more transvestites and transgender people. I think they’re so HOT, especially the ones who still have their cocks. (My friend has already gone all the way post-op, so we’re girlfriends now.) I love the dual sexuality of a pretty face combined with a hard cock.
Anyway, I got there and all I saw were regular women like me, and regular men, some even macho cops boasting about their guns.
“Where are all the trannies?” I asked. My friend’s eyes opened wide, as if caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. I realized that I had blown her cover. That part of her transforming herself fully into a woman meant that she wanted to be seen as a straight woman, not a queer or a tranny.
No one else seemed to notice. I just kept quiet after that, put in polite time and said goodbye shortly. It made me a bit sad to think that even after my friend has gone this far to transform herself, she has still managed to put herself in a closet.
I went to the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Film Festival at the Mission in San Francisco. The movies were the usual “Woe is me, how hard it is to be gay in America” at worst, and a fun/funny home movie of “How the local LGBT community taught me to love myself” at best. Excuse me, but I just have to roll my eyes in boredom.
Onscreen someone was complaining about how hard it is meeting new people and trying to decide whether to tell them he’s gay or not. Now, why all this unnecessary drama? When a close friend finally came out to me after two years of knowing each other, I just said, “Of course. I knew all along.” He was shocked, “Is it *that* obvious?” I’m like, “Who cares?” Unless I’m interested in having sexual relations with someone, I just don’t feel the need to let them in on my sexual preferences.
I’m not belittling the plight of gay people all over the world. Sure, gay people get depressed, ostracized, even killed in isolated incidents. But so do straight people for one reason or another. Every one needs love and recognition, no matter what race, gender or sexual orientation. Making movies about how difficult it is to be gay only keeps gay people in their little marginalized societies. It offers no way out, no silver lining on the cloud of complaints about the injustices in our society.
Young gay filmmakers should learn from two of my favorite movies: Hedwig and The Angry Inch, and Priscilla Queen of the Desert. The fact that the characters are gay is just icing on the cake. The true substance of these two films are rooted in universal themes: the search for love in this world, and the resilience of the human spirit.
The past two weeks have become monotonous. I won’t say our sex is uninspired. We do it a lot more often than average, and the quality has more flavor than vanilla, even if we’ve been monogamous since the year began. We have settled into a predictable pattern, comfortable and secure, but not very exciting.
I don’t know anyone, man or woman, who is as good as Jay at licking pussy. He’s the only one who’s ever brought me to orgasm through his cunnilingus skill. I knew immediately he was rare, and that I would do anything to keep him for good.
Most men I’ve met have no interest in going down there. Although they welcome the gift of fellatio, they think they can show their gratitude simply by fucking my brains out, which really isn’t all that bad, as long as I’m not always left alone to finish myself off while they shower.
“Here’s what I think the truth is: We are all addicts of fossil fuels in a state of denial, about to face cold turkey… And like so many addicts about to face cold turkey, our leaders are now committing violent crimes to get what little is left of what we’re hooked on.”
Guilty as charged. I’m no road addict, but I love my wired existence and my entertainment system. These things that plug in make me so happy. Until we learn to turn shit into electricity, the Middle East is fucked, and eventually when all the world’s fossil fuel resources have been consumed by the Almighty Dollar, WE’RE FUCKED.
