|WEEK IN CRAIG: MOMSIE'S LEZZING IT UP THIS WEEK.|
|By Amy Blair||
When I was in college, I failed one class ever. Embarrassingly enough, it was Gay and Lesbian Studies. This is particularly humiliating because my two beloved cats, Ping and Pong, are lesbians and therefore I should be, like, hyper-aware of the issues that the gay community faces.
I know that there is an obvious joke in there involving pussies and cats, but I'm dead serious. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, it's pork, pork, pork with those two. Initially, I tried to turn them back to the path of righteousness of Our Lord Jesus Christ. But, after several years of trying, I've learned that you can lead a lesbian cat to water, but you can't make her drink. Unless, of course, your cat is a lesbian and a chronically thirsty borderline diabetic, as mine is -- but that's another story.
Point is, I've realized that there is no use trying to change my cats. They were born lesbians, just as I was born with blue eyes. And they'll be dry-humping all over the apartment whether I like it or not. So, like every good mother should, I did my best to understand my furry little muffdivers: I took Gay and Lesbian Studies. Which, as previously mentioned, I summarily failed.
However, I stand by the fact that I failed that class not through any fault of my own, but because the professor had it in for me. After the first assigned reading, some freshman girl raised her hand in class and asked what a dental dam is, and I muttered out loud "Are you fucking kidding me?" The professor hated me from that point forward. I probably should have dropped the class right then and there, but I soldiered on for the sake of understanding my cats better.
Lot of good that did me. I received an incomplete that later turned into a big fat F on my permanent record, and, despite that failure, the class has become part of my mother's periodic "you don't have a boyfriend and you took Gay and Lesbian Studies in college and you have two cats - I knew it, my daughter's a lesbian!" tirade. Besides I still don't feel any closer to my cats than before.
Perhaps there's only so much one can learn in the classroom, and the only real way to break down the wall between us is to go out there and try my hand at some rug-munching. As the old saying goes, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
Here's to you, Ping and Pong. Momsie's lezzing it up this week.
So, I read through tons and tons of w4w posts this week, and this is the one that I could identify with the most I figured that latching onto something that I can understand, initially, would be the simplest way to find some common grounds between my lesbian cats and me.
i am on fire right now....
i want to talk to a hot, round, soft, gorgeous woman who wants it as bad as i do. i have been feeling so sedate right now. i need to feel spontaneous, wild, hot, and wet. life seems so flat.
where are you? do you feel the same?
Now, I may not be a card-carrying Bean-flicker, but this post is clearly a case of Craigslist drunk dialing. And drunk dialing is something that all of God's creatures, regardless of their choice of bed buddies, can understand. Personally, I love that moment, right before you pass out, when you're all drunk and crazed and you feel like you sooooooooo could be having the most amazing sex in the whole wide world (if only you weren't shitfaced and alone) and then you pass out. I especially love it when you act on that feeling and place the booty call and then you pass out.
I've never tried drunk dialing on craigslist, but if this lesbian has taught me anything, it's that there's a first for everything. Look out for my drunk-dialed post this Saturday. It will probably look something like this:
Hard up Craigslist Columnistttttt drunk and on fire
NOOOOOOW you won't regret it
MUST LVE VOKKA AND CATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111111
Or, something like that.
Anyway. Lesbians drunk dial. I drunk dial. Ping and Pong, we're not so different after all!
Here's another post to which I can relate:
Hey Ladies ...
Who among us isn't into the idea of an anonymous Oral Assistant who can be bossed around and then packed up and shipped home? I have imagined just such a scenario many a time.
And lookee here -- I'm feeling closer and closer to understanding your ways, putty tats!
Although, in the end it was this post, I think, that truly illuminated the way to a connection between me and my todger-dodger cats:
HEY LADIES..LOOKING TO GET TOGETHER A GROUP OF LESBIANS FOR AN KISSING SEQUENCE FOR A PHOTOGRAPHY PROJECT. I AM A LESBIAN, BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPHER WANTING TO EXPLORE ON FILM THE LESBIAN KISS...THERE IS NO COMPENSATION (SORRY STARVING ARTIST), BUT YOU WOULD BE LOCKING LIPS WITH SOME CUTE GIRLS, CAN PROVIDE SOME ALCOHOL, JUST GOOD TIME. PLEASE E-MAIL IF INTERESTED, PICTURE WOULD BE HELPFUL.
I mean, because really, at the end of the day, who -- gay, straight, whatever -- can honestly say that they've never been tempted into porn with the lure of free alcohol?
Pingsy and Pongsy, I think I'm starting to get it! Vulva voyage, ahoy!
Amy Blair is eager to be called horrible names on Craig's List. Bring it.