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I don’t care what you look like as long as you’ve got a nice voice. Every girl I’ve ever wanted to see a second time has had a nice voice. One once had a low thudding voice that came out of the side of her mouth; it sounded almost like a guy’s, but her face was like a doll’s.

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I like you but under no circumstances will I be known as your girlfriend. I’m just not ready for that type of commitment. I still expect you to hang out with me/ text me/ hold my hand/ buy me shots, though.

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Unless you’ve been riding the vodka train 24/7 or you’re in a long-term relationship in which you have your sexual repertoire down to a T, you have either experienced or are bound to experience a few “WTF?” moments in bed with a girl.

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A relatively small sampling of the many different types of girls who like girls you can expect to encounter in gay bars nationwide. If you don’t come across any of these, you are clearly not at a gay bar.

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Wonder if I should seriously consider dating a girl. She was full of compliments and the hook up was about me. I can’t think of one man I have dated who I could say both things about.

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In a relationship, it is almost guaranteed that you will get fat and happy. You will lie contentedly in her arms on your plush couch among your eclectic throw pillows and reflect on how lucky you are. You will order in and eat out. In a spirit of domestic goddess-osity, you will attempt to cook dinner from scratch, which will of course result in half the kitchen on fire and subsequent takeout from the Chinese bistro down the street.

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There was no uniform required at school; no need, I guess, since everyone already dressed the same in Duck Head shorts and Polo shirts.  The boys wore loafers. The girls wore pristine white Keds. I never uncovered the mystery of how they kept their shoes so clean. I suspect they bought a new pair every week.

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It’s been rumored that certain lesbians have tried to escape West Hollywood, only to mysteriously disappear. Most don’t even think to try it because the second they leave their incestuous pool of lesbian friends, they start to melt and become disoriented. “Does Santa Monica have a lesbian coffee shop? I must have my coffee made by a lesbian…”

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Every time they show up to a social gathering, a giant hush falls over the room and they just can’t seem to understand why. They just give a look back to the crowd that seems to say, “Y IS IT SO QUIET? OH MY GOD, HI GUYS! BEST FRIENDS! MY PARTNERS IN CRIME! I LOVE YOU!”

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A lot of them don’t know how much they’re getting screwed over. They think a film like The Ugly Truth is empowering, they read He’s Just Not That Into You, and feed into the ideas that are designed to hurt them, they read Cosmo for guidance. It’s easy for me to see that these things are all horrible but that’s because I have a penis.