omen have baffled and fascinated me since... well, forever. When I was little, my heroes were shit-kicking cartoon heroines: witches, swordswomen, princesses, and vamps, from Cinderella of the glass slipper to She-Ra of the magic blade. Was the attraction erotic? From one perspective, yes: glistening fem-muscle and flowing hair is perhaps one of life's greatest and truest aesthetic epiphanies.
As the tender age of seven I was CONVINCED that when I married (and I WOULD marry!) it would be to a beautiful nuclear physicist movie star type, easy on the eyes, hard on the brain... like my favorite cartoons, only a woman.
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It's a realm of sexual paradox, encompassing busty porn stars and chic Audrey Hepburn-types alike. And I have no compass!
Then this other thing happened, this whole "figuring out that I'm gay" thing. My plans for marrying She-Ra immediately transformed into plans for marrying He-Man. Alas, He-Man has yet to materialize. My new theory is that he never will.
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In light of this dire reality, a reality just about everyone with a vague attraction to males eventually has to accept, I made an executive decision to return to the erotic roots of my childhood. Yes, I affirmed my homo-flexibility and re-entered the world of women -- so to speak. Barring catastrophe, I thereby declared myself bisexual forever and ever.
Problem is, I'm now 19 and lacking in the pseudo-hetero-charms. For the past four years I've been focusing my energies and attentions almost EXCLUSIVELY on those of the fairer sex -- which, we must admit, is the MALE sex. I know the expression "fairer" sex is supposed to designate women, but really, come on. Michelangelo knew it. Plato knew it. Calvin Klein knows it. Men are just prettier. Women rule over a separate visual sphere completely: the sphere of roundness, litheness, softness, hardness, gentility. It's a realm of sexual paradox, encompassing busty porn stars and chic Audrey Hepburn-types alike. And I have no compass! How am I supposed to seduce beautiful women and fulfill myself as a newly-baptized bisexual when I don't even know where to begin?
Desperate for answers, I turned to Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet advises us that poetry and sexiness are the way to a woman's heart. (Dying young helps too.) So I've started to write sexy limericks, mostly starting with the line: "There wants was a woman from Renis / Who was dating a guy named Fenis..." This limericks never go anywhere knightly, and rarely impress women. So I tried the "sexiness" thing instead, and bought a new hair gel called "Dippity-Doo." It had sparkles in it. Alas, it made my hair into a helmet. I looked like a David Bowie/Margaret Thatcher cross-breed on windy bad-hair-day. No poetry. No sexiness. And of course, no Juliet.
So I've decided that maybe I should be gay again. After all, haven't there ALWAYS been rumors about Romeo and his bud Mercutio...?
Speed Dating
