9 Apr

Now I’ve always thought I could spot a transsexual a mile away. That there were no chance in hell that I couldn’t see if that was a mixed-up-gender-type-person.

I would look at the jugular after the laryngeal prominence – the Adams apple -and if there was… walk slowly the other way. So I have swept myself into a blanket of comfort and lies believing that I would never be tricked.

Now as it turns out I may have been tricked… once.

I always thought that the guy in the band Le Tigre was a guy.

An effeminate guy, oh yes, but I always thought that was just the effects of feminism and strong women. That his nuts was just cracked, and that somewhere in his pants there would be… you know… “the defining power of a male“?

So he isn’t a man, but girl! Now I don’t know what’s what. Keep thinking… Is he a girl? Is she a guy? Am I a man? If a three falls in the woods could I still vote for Bush?

You don't even know your own gender HOW DARE YOU TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT POLITICS!

Blog 2.0 - Likes when people screams cathartic to Weltschmerz. Yes, Mr Buckley, we all want to take a swim in the river with our booths on sometimes.

Blog 2.0 - Don't care what you are, but no surprises please!

PS: Now if you enjoyed that one kids you should read my blog about feminism and it’s discontents.

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