Tuesday, October 16, 2012


Every so often I will wander into straight people land and be all like, "the fuck is this place?"

 Not that I'm surrounded by people who are kinky, poly, queer, what-have-you on a daily basis. Or that if somebody is one of those aforementioned things, I am automatically going to get along with them. I sit through my fair share of conversations with people "in the community" slash "in the scene" slash whatever the fuck hive mind term you want to use to try and justify the idea that we're all supposed to hold hands and sing along all like, "the way you think is amazingly precious."

There's a special faction of straight people land, though, that is entirely baffling for me. This is the place where I call Frisbee "a  friend," as in, "I am going to go camping this weekend with a friend." And then when said people find out that Frisbee is a man, that I'm going camping just with him and not bringing Now-hubby along, they get all, "say whaaaat?"

As in, the idea that I have a friend of the opposite gender and he is my friend and not somebody who started out as Now-hubby's friend and now I am also friends with him sort of by default - that makes these people collectively lose their shit.

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