I'm in glamorous Springfield, Missouri, where the party just. don't. stop.
The presenter I'm travelling with this week is a Speech-Language Pathologist.
She's also an extreme Republican who likes to polish apples on her belly in the car.
I can't stand her.
However, she is teaching a seminar entitled:
Practical Therapy Techniques for Persistent Articulation Errors: Frontal Lisp, Lateral Lisp, and Distorted "R".
Basically, she trains other SLPs on how to work with the lisping young fags.
Paging David Sedaris.
Remember when I asked for your Coming Out stories?
Well, I got lots and lots of letters. Y'all is prolific.
So, it's time for the first installment of Dykes Come Out.
This story comes from Yasmina, an intrepid reader who's ready to talk to y'all about Being Outed.
(It's edited, with permission, for space/grammar/pictures/and whatever else I felt like doing to it.)
Thanks for Coming Out, Yasmina!
I always knew I was gay. Since I was 5, I'd play house with my girlfriends and make them be the "mommy."
I'd be the dad and do DAD THINGS to Mommy.
But I never wanted my parents to know, so I just never told ANYONE and acted as straight as possible...
When I was 16, we moved to a new neighborhood and I had to make new friends. Instead of it sucking, I found lots of friends.
It was great.
After a few months, all my awesome friends decided it was cool to be bisexual. So I came out to them and told them I was gay. I even dated one of them, and OMG I loved her so much. I loved everything about her, but she was NOT gay (nor was she even bi.)
She just thought it was cool for guys to think she was into chicks. All the guys thought it was soo hot.
I didn't even care - I just loved the shit outta her.
My parents never thought for a second I was gay. They just thought my girlfriend and I were the best of friends.
Later on, I finally realized this girl was straight and left her for an awesome butch dyke.
My parents still never suspected...until one day, in a store, my butch dyke girlfriend said, "Let's go look at that cake magazine and pick out our dream wedding cake," while my mom was standing there.
So that's how I came out to my parents.
They said they were ok with it. But I was never allowed alone in the house with a girl after that for the next 2 years.
And sleep-overs from then on?Nu-uh, not a chance.
Let's give Yasmina a hand!
That had to have been an awkward ride home from the store.
Until next time, my pretties!
Keep those Coming Out stories coming!