Thursday, December 29, 2005
ENVIRONMENTALIST, CUNNILINGUIST
It’s no secret that real estate agent is a popular career choice for dykes. Heck, Dot Lazarius even dabbled in the housing market herself when she was trying to find her calling (and people, I have some stories...). Real estate agents of a certain “lifestyle choice” tend to sell a lot of houses in the Lazarius stomping ground of South City/Shaw. I like to sometimes walk around and look at the real estate agent’s faces on the for sale signs, and see which ones I might like to sit on. It was my desire to do just that that convinced me to invite a bunch of my old real estate colleagues and their friends over to my place for a little afternoon soiree.
Dot Lazarius’s apartment is decorated in what I like to call 21st Century Butch Dyke. It’s unpretentious, people. The decoration reflects what I like--sports, beer, left-wing politics, comedy, and--of course--women. It is in this spirit that I have a certain magnet on my fridge, which was given to me by my awesome drinking buddy, Clay. The magnet reads thusly: “Save a tree! Eat a beaver!” I love this magnet. To me, it captures the zeitgeist of Dot Lazarius’s butch dykeness. I’m crude, I’m real, I’m an environmentalist and, above all, I love women.
Now among the dykes at my party was a certain femme called Cheryl. If it were up to Dot Lazarius, the party would have been exclusively butch dykes, but most things in life are not up to Dot Lazarius. Cheryl is easily offended. Seriously, people, the dyke is oversensitive. Let me give you an example. Once my ex Jill and I were double dating with Cheryl and her flavor of the month (who she of course was living with). We were walking down Delmar. I was holding hands with Jill and Cheryl was holding hands with her gal. Some meathead yells out “lesbians!” from his t-top. Dot’s reaction: to think “that dude sure calls ‘em like he sees ‘em!” and lean over to get some sugar from Jill. Cheryl’s reaction: melt down crying in the middle of the street and then require 5 hours of aromatherapy and hand holding.
I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, people, when I heard Cheryl scream in anguish as she walked past the fridge. “What the hell is that, Dot?” She asked, her shaking hand pointing at my magnet.
“Well, Cheryl,” I replied, “it’s a magnet that expresses humorously my personal philosophy of environmentalism and free oral sex among women.”
“Dot, that is offensive!”
Now to Cheryl, nothing could be worse than something being “offensive.” While to Dot, when I hear the word “offense” I think about how this season the STL Rams defense seems to be outshining their offense--am I right people? (Go Rams!) Unfortunately, most dykes do not agree with Dot. So when Cheryl drops the “o-bomb” the whole room goes quiet and every dyke in the place comes over to see what the ruckus is. It’s this time that several of my friends chose to tell me that they have long found my magnet offensive. I’m shocked, and I say so.
“Show of hands, people.” I say, “Who here is an environmentalist?” Everyone raises their hand. “Who here likes to go down on the ladies?” Again, everyone raises their hand. “So the problem with a magnet celebrating those to things is exactly what, people?”
My friend Liz says it objectifies women by referring to them as beavers. I say it doesn’t refer to women and beavers, it refers to beavers as beavers. Dot Lazarius loves women and she loves women’s beavers! Problem? Not to Dot!
But then my friend Chris drops this bomb: El, a hot as hell butch dyke Dot was after before El moved to Wyoming, spurned Dot, not because of Dot’s support for Lyndon Laruche in the primaries (as El told me), but because she found the magnet “gross” and couldn’t think about Dot the same way after she saw it. Now, the magnet offending Cheryl, I don’t care about. The woman was probably offended by the color of my fridge. But the thought that the magnet made it so Dot could not do the very thing the magnet advocated? That was just too much.
After the party broke up and Dot struck out with all the possible ladies there that evening, Dot sat in her laz-y-boy and reflected on the days events. I searched my sole, people. Was the magnet offensive? Was it wrong to have up? Maybe it was “in bad taste”, but it was not offensive--it doesn’t stereotype women and it was not displayed with malice. In the end I decided that the magnet perfectly reflects who Dot Lazarius is. If a dyke chooses not to get with me because of the magnet, that’s her loss because I could bring that dyke to a higher plane, people.
So the magnet has become sort of a litmus test for Dot. And when I finally find that special butch dyke who comes over, sees the magnet, and lets out a big laugh, I’ll know I found the one. Hell, I may even go all femme and move in with her!
Am I right, people?
It’s no secret that real estate agent is a popular career choice for dykes. Heck, Dot Lazarius even dabbled in the housing market herself when she was trying to find her calling (and people, I have some stories...). Real estate agents of a certain “lifestyle choice” tend to sell a lot of houses in the Lazarius stomping ground of South City/Shaw. I like to sometimes walk around and look at the real estate agent’s faces on the for sale signs, and see which ones I might like to sit on. It was my desire to do just that that convinced me to invite a bunch of my old real estate colleagues and their friends over to my place for a little afternoon soiree.
Dot Lazarius’s apartment is decorated in what I like to call 21st Century Butch Dyke. It’s unpretentious, people. The decoration reflects what I like--sports, beer, left-wing politics, comedy, and--of course--women. It is in this spirit that I have a certain magnet on my fridge, which was given to me by my awesome drinking buddy, Clay. The magnet reads thusly: “Save a tree! Eat a beaver!” I love this magnet. To me, it captures the zeitgeist of Dot Lazarius’s butch dykeness. I’m crude, I’m real, I’m an environmentalist and, above all, I love women.
Now among the dykes at my party was a certain femme called Cheryl. If it were up to Dot Lazarius, the party would have been exclusively butch dykes, but most things in life are not up to Dot Lazarius. Cheryl is easily offended. Seriously, people, the dyke is oversensitive. Let me give you an example. Once my ex Jill and I were double dating with Cheryl and her flavor of the month (who she of course was living with). We were walking down Delmar. I was holding hands with Jill and Cheryl was holding hands with her gal. Some meathead yells out “lesbians!” from his t-top. Dot’s reaction: to think “that dude sure calls ‘em like he sees ‘em!” and lean over to get some sugar from Jill. Cheryl’s reaction: melt down crying in the middle of the street and then require 5 hours of aromatherapy and hand holding.
I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, people, when I heard Cheryl scream in anguish as she walked past the fridge. “What the hell is that, Dot?” She asked, her shaking hand pointing at my magnet.
“Well, Cheryl,” I replied, “it’s a magnet that expresses humorously my personal philosophy of environmentalism and free oral sex among women.”
“Dot, that is offensive!”
Now to Cheryl, nothing could be worse than something being “offensive.” While to Dot, when I hear the word “offense” I think about how this season the STL Rams defense seems to be outshining their offense--am I right people? (Go Rams!) Unfortunately, most dykes do not agree with Dot. So when Cheryl drops the “o-bomb” the whole room goes quiet and every dyke in the place comes over to see what the ruckus is. It’s this time that several of my friends chose to tell me that they have long found my magnet offensive. I’m shocked, and I say so.
“Show of hands, people.” I say, “Who here is an environmentalist?” Everyone raises their hand. “Who here likes to go down on the ladies?” Again, everyone raises their hand. “So the problem with a magnet celebrating those to things is exactly what, people?”
My friend Liz says it objectifies women by referring to them as beavers. I say it doesn’t refer to women and beavers, it refers to beavers as beavers. Dot Lazarius loves women and she loves women’s beavers! Problem? Not to Dot!
But then my friend Chris drops this bomb: El, a hot as hell butch dyke Dot was after before El moved to Wyoming, spurned Dot, not because of Dot’s support for Lyndon Laruche in the primaries (as El told me), but because she found the magnet “gross” and couldn’t think about Dot the same way after she saw it. Now, the magnet offending Cheryl, I don’t care about. The woman was probably offended by the color of my fridge. But the thought that the magnet made it so Dot could not do the very thing the magnet advocated? That was just too much.
After the party broke up and Dot struck out with all the possible ladies there that evening, Dot sat in her laz-y-boy and reflected on the days events. I searched my sole, people. Was the magnet offensive? Was it wrong to have up? Maybe it was “in bad taste”, but it was not offensive--it doesn’t stereotype women and it was not displayed with malice. In the end I decided that the magnet perfectly reflects who Dot Lazarius is. If a dyke chooses not to get with me because of the magnet, that’s her loss because I could bring that dyke to a higher plane, people.
So the magnet has become sort of a litmus test for Dot. And when I finally find that special butch dyke who comes over, sees the magnet, and lets out a big laugh, I’ll know I found the one. Hell, I may even go all femme and move in with her!
Am I right, people?
# posted by Dot @ 1:54 PM 
