“Vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, vaginas, and then maybe the occasional penis if I’m drunk enough.”
If the connection was right, gender and physical presentation became much less relevant.
“One key difference: BOOBS.”
Yes, it’s a parody.
Yesterday in the hospital, Vito asked me, “Is it manly to cry?” “Of course,” I said quietly. “Then I think I’m about to be very manly,” he said.
Girls are judged by their looks and they’re treated as oddballs if they don’t marry and go for a career instead. Being a girl certainly isn’t as good as I thought. And I definitely am happy having a penis rather than a vagina.
Bisexuality is not a choice. It is not unnatural, greedy, or slutty, and it’s definitely not a myth.
I’m confused; being bisexual may be the hardest thing. If I was completely gay, I could move into that world – yes, with some difficulty, but I’ve seen other guys do it.
When someone who resembled a porcelain doll with the personality of a firecracker thought I was perfect, I instantly “fell in love.” I was so insecure and yet so shallow at the same time.
Here are 5 ways that I—a fat, butch, hairy chick—maintain a fantastic sexual/romantic life.