June
19th, 2006
People cross
the globe to attend Toronto's Pride
Week festivities, and rightly so. Santa's parade passes
through every hamlet with paved roads, but if you're looking
for greased
bodybuilders in skin-tight sailor suits, well… you're
probably prepared to travel. It's normal people too, of course,
but you'd never guess that from the media
coverage.
Incidentally,
my aversion to lesbian erotica should not be misconstrued as
an aversion to lesbians and bisexuals. Quite the contrary. It's
just that, having seen the real thing, I'm now unable to imagine
two women kissing without one of them morphing into my baby
sister.* And that, my friend, is a bucket of ice water
on the crotch.
Or perhaps
Jamie's right? Let's see how I score on this makeshift Kinsey
scale:
Final score:
16-15 = 1 (Predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual)
Straight
but not narrow. I can totally live with that.
I can even
live with the first words vs. pictures tie,
though my position remains firm. I've spent my whole life moving
forward through time. A change would be refreshing.
I suspect
response to the new
debate will be significantly more one-sided.
Wow. This
post has run kind of long, so I'm going to save your food responses
for next week, if that's cool. See you then!
-Graham
*My
sister's bisexual, not lesbian. I make the distinction because
she'd be pissed if I didn't.
**All men hate their fathers.
