Bob ponders the changeable nature of Woman

I got a phone call the other day from my friend Bob. (Read his opinions on my opinion throughout this blog. He calls himself "Bob Fuckin' Smith." "Fuckin'", as you may or may not know, was an early surname prefix akin to "Mc" or "O'", meaning "bastard son of the cranky side of the family." No one knows why it disappeared, but all props to Bob for resurrecting it.)



But back to my phonecall.



"Hey, Bob." I said. "What's up?"



"One of chicks on Sex and the City just came out," he said, gloomily. Whenever Bob says anything, he says it gloomily. It's implied, okay?



"NO! Which one?"



"The blonde one."



"SARAH JESSICA PARKER? Oh my GOD."



"No, not her."



"Wait. Kim Cattrall?"



"Maybe. Listen, I don't know, okay? I don't watch the fuckin' show." (Nor does he watch the "O'Show", nor the "McShow".) "I just want to know one thing."



"Shoot."



"Is female sexuality just like, this totally changeable thing? Can you just switch at any minute? What gives?"



"Oh, yes. We're like parakeets that way."



"Shit. That's what I thought."



I was pulling his leg of course. I don't think female sexuality is any more mutable than male sexuality. The only difference being that if a girl thinks she might be a little bit gay, everyone in the world (except for real lesbians) throws a parade for her, whereas if a guy voices any confusion, he gets stoned to death or at least stuffed in a locker in the boy's room.



Also, I didn't know it was Miranda who came out of the closet. Let's just say that I don't think anything's changed for her, sexuality-wise. If anything, she's just thrown up her hands and declared, "You know what? Fine. You guys were right. I'm totally, totally gay. Man, that's a relief. Now who wants to go to Meow Mix?"