Though marketed to heterosexual men, lesbian pulp fiction provided an identity to isolated women in the 1950s. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
‘does not play well with others..’
Who knew?
The bully up in the classroom? The rapist lurking ’round the crevices of Whitamore Stadium? The brick and mortar that made up the fine privileges of the privileged few at UNH?
Did Beckett Couvillion know I was a lesbian? Probably, he’s always been the smarter of the of us.
My birth mother Josie, she knew. She said these exact words to me. Well, honestly, she messaged me but you get the idea.
“Ambien, if your other mother finds out you’re getting around with a married woman, she’ll kill her or throw her in jail.”
My best friend knew. Not sure which best friend it was at the time, I’ve had so many, but I told the whole friend community on Facebook. Worked like a charm once I used Friend Finder.
Friends, true and blue until the end. Or, until I decide to quit drinking!
Everyone knew but po’ ole Mother Theresa. I can see her sitting behind her speechless with the pathology of unwarranted hatred, desk, right now. Wanting to go for a jog! Wanting to find me a suitor, boned in! Chomping at the bit and hoping that this whole sordid affair didn’t get publicized via UNH trash talk.
I wish I could have told her sooner. As it was, I was called disgusting, unlovable and despicable. Nevermind Kate. Theresa was ready to get the Father Floyd Calvary out!
Fuck, that would have been a sight. Father Floyd embodied by over the top beer and fattening foods and in this corner, Kate. Middle aged lesbian with an attitude and a ‘does not play well with others’ way of dealing with the world.
Hands down, Kate would kick some might white and tighty whitey’s butt. If Floyd didn’t have that whole missing testes thing going on Kate probably would have served those up to her ruthless but proud Heinz 57 mutt.
No matter, I’m not really gay. I just play a lesbian on the short-circuit TV that runs through my stout and not out frame.
May is coming up soon. So long Virginia. Along comes a break from volunteering to clean up water fountains at the local park and I’m right smack dab in the ‘when are you going to grow up’ land once again.
Fuck Kate. The whole thing was a set up. I know she wanted Zoey first. I just happened to be more desperate looking. More worthy of her ‘set the phobia’s not straight’ writer’s quest she’d been on.
So, the book will come out. The nudity will leave many readers in awe and asking themselves, ‘I’m not so obese after all, am I?’
The sexual depravity in the woods, up the butt, tied up, spanked and yanked will be on the cover of the Concord Monitor.
‘Your Hometown Hero, Ambien Grace’
Shit, ‘ya, bring it on.
