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on lesbians
After your tenth email telling me to Have A Lesbian Experience,
I decided I'd better do some research. I started to compile a list of how to become
a lesbian:
Heh. I so funnee. Sadly, the Seethru office is already lousy with lesbians (one
of whom tore my list up and jumped on it - hi, Soph!). Of the three or so dot.coms
left alive in Britain, only Queercompany.com's got more lezzas than we have, I
reckon. So then I thought hey, maybe this office doesn't really need another one.
Besides, 'lesbian' is such an ugly word. Like 'feminist'. I know
not all lesbians and feminists have armpit hair. I've seen plenty of nice-looking
ones, all lipstick and ringlets and flirtiness and funky kitten-heeled shoes.
But somehow that's simply not enough to sever the association of lesbian / feminist
and armpit hair.
Me, I don't have armpit hair. Well, I mean, I do, but you'd never
know: it's down the drain quicker than you can say Louis Marcel. And I don't really
want to grow any. So by this time last week I'd decided that, even in the interests
of investigative journalism, the chances of me Having A Lesbian Encounter were
roughly one million percent less than zero. Sorry.
And then I took ecstasy.
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