"Forget about it," their friends say, "it will only lead to heartache."

Heartache schmartache, I don't want to gay-marry you, oh sizzling Sapphite. I just want to wrassle you (hard) and then maybe later talk about gender theory over beer.

Still, even my humble wishes seem out of reach.

Can't we get over my penis? It's not even that impressive; more like an extra-large clit. What are you, sizeist now?

I guess we could just be buddies. I can resign myself to the friend-zone if you promise to go girl-watching with me once in a while. Maybe then you'll see that I don't want to "turn" you (for the sake of either ego or Jesus). I just want to get physical in a way that would make a straight girl's over-sized purse explode. I fully trust you've got some knowledge to drop.

Don't judge me, oh hot diggity dyke, if I don't fit into your worldview. Just hold me once in a while and tell me that I'm simply another colour in our glorious rainbow.

Contact details

• Email: Click here to reply to this ad

Anti spam: Do NOT contact me offering services or anything of a commercial nature.