Hello, everyone. How is everyone? That’s good to hear/I’m sorry about your dog/See, that’s why you add a little Listerine to the ice before blending (please circle the most appropriate response for your current situation). You know what would be fun to write about? Sex. Though you probably know the ins and outs, it can be a slippery slope here. So, let’s dive right in and get our hands dirty.
Let’s start with something real simple. This one is mostly for republicans, religious figures, and people from the Midwest. There is remarkable variety in sexual preference, far more than the two or three stops that folks tend to harp on. Instead of thinking of sexual preference as a light switch, visualize it as a dimmer switch. Sure, it can be really bright or all the way dark, but there are a million discrete stops between the two, right? See, I like to think of myself almost exactly between the all dark and full bright, but maybe slightly rotated toward the dark side. You know, like when you are at a restaurant and your food comes and it’s like 7:30 and the lights dim and you try and get a forkful of mashed potatoes but due to the suddenly poor lighting, you end up more or less trying to shovel some of the tablecloth in your mouth? Kind of like that, but in a sexy way and with potatoes optional.
In words and numbers, let’s say I’m more or less a 55%/45% split most days, weighted ever so slightly toward the opposite sex. For those keeping score at home, there you go.
So, now that your suspicions are confirmed, allow me to assure you that the hormones have not changed my opportunistic, pseudo-indecisive ways. Continuing along this topic, it is accurate to say I ain’t doing this for sexual reasons. Were I cross dressing, I may not be able to make the same claim. As it is, I ain’t so I ain’t. If I thought the field behind the barn needed to be prepared for harvest, I would ensure that an adequately trained individual would indeed be arranged to do just that. Does that make sense? I hope so, because my grandma is reading this, and that is as much detail as I am going into about that.
I’m just assuming a little bit here that perhaps a non-zero amount of you is entertaining the notion that I’m doing this for reasons directly related to sex. Well, you’re wrong. Here’s a very reasonable and prudent explanation concerning your horrible wrongness for no other reason than that I am very petty. Sex drive and such is pretty much fueled by testosterone. This isn’t an exact correlation, but it’s close enough to make me right. So, if I’m blocking some 98% of my testosterone, do you suppose I care as much about sex as previous? See, it doesn’t make much sense to say, ‘oh man, being a girl is going to be so awesome and I am totally going to be into it all the time,’ right? Because the associated ideas and apparatuses (apparati?) are not quite as, um, urgent. Honestly, it’s more like, ‘well, I could probably dig it, but there are pictures of sea otters on the internet so I’ll do it later probably.’ Besides, if it were the case that the hydraulics fired up every time I wore girl clothes, I would not make for a convincing girl. Since I ain’t too keen right now in surgically reversing my own pubic polarity, it’s a darn good thing I’m not transitioning for sexual reasons.
Because of comically ironic circumstances, I’m going to stop here. I leave you now with this short series of thoughts from earlier this afternoon.
Random sad thought: I cannot presently or in the near future show off whatever witty/clever/thoughtful shirt I am wearing because doing that would show my witty/clever/thoughtful breasts.
Random happy thought: Sometime later, I will be able to show off my repertoire of witty/clever/thoughtful shirts in 3D.
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