Hey, My Rainbow Pookie Bear! Get Your Cleats On!

So, I went to go take a shower (or perhaps a nice long, hot, lavender scented bubble bath-because I'm stone cold butch like that) and I found this wonderfully expressive note perched on the faucet handle.

The thing I had to ask myself, besides, "I'm hungry. I wonder if we have any buttery toast bacon crackers?" was, "How did our humble beginnings of 'baby' and 'honey' evolve into such an exhaustively thorough and mouth-watering terms of endearment exchange?"

Some might even argue that my girlfriend and I have become a little competitive with our pet names for each other.

Almost as if it were some kind of....contest...

Why do I say, "contest" might you ask?

Because...not that I want to generalize (yes I do), but as a group, lesbians seem to have a few 'issues' with competitiveness. At our Super Bowl parties we often have more gear on than the players do-to protect ourselves from each other. Things can abruptly spin out of control, and we (as a people) are aware of the potential for rapid escalation.

In this case, things had started sweetly and innocently enough.

You know, I was her "little love chops," or her "cookie pie," or "kitten toes." I was even her, "squiggly love cakes." And, in turn, she was my "little snuggly bear," or my "fluff muffin," or "nectar niblets." At the VERY most she was my, "soft skinned huggy bunches."

Before long, "kitten toes" turned into "pumpkin slippers." And then, all hell broke loose.

Before long, I got THIS:

"Good morning, puppy whiskers! You're beautiful when you sleep..and when you're awake, and when you're a little tired but not yet ready to sleep, and you're also beautiful when you're waking up but not yet wide awake...I just love you my sexy skittle knees."

So she got THIS:

"Thank you my little honey shorts hamster dumpling. I can't wait to achieve new heights of co-dependence with you. The future is our to bake together, you hot basket of syrup socks."

And it was ON...like an affectionately impaired psychotic Donkey Kong.

At this point, I have been:

Dimple waffle sugar knickers.
Tootsie sprinkle shoulders.
Silly monkfruit cuttlefish.
Sponge pudding baby turtle monkey.
Fuzzy doodle drumstick butter opossum.

I called her out on the opossum one.

"You probably say that to all the girls, my creamy dollop of fluff munchies." (The 'fuzzy doodle drumstick butter opossum' term of endearment is SO overused).

"My creamy dollop is for you only, my teensy, wombat, pancake cricket...and I'd never share my fluff munchies with anyone, lemon pie honey squares! Never!!"

I must admit, I was nearly rendered speechless with that last one.

I managed to refer to her as my "amorous agave ankles," and my, "stevia snuggly squirrel shins" before I ran out of cute animals, sweeteners, and body parts.

Fortunately, my friend (I will refer to him here is Duane, mostly because his name is Duane) tried an intervention...

"Couldn't you PLEASE put some healthier food references in with the 'snicker doodle lemon honey fluffy truffle' stuff? I'm gaining weight and you're making me hungrier. Maybe some, 'basil pepper stuffed snapper?'"

Well, my girlfriend totally suited up for THIS suggestion:

"My dearest savory hummus bundle, let's take a long and exhilarating walk to Trader Joe's, hand in hand my little carrot crunch bits, where we will purchase organic love morsels and other foods that are healthy and less fattening, and also gluten-free...ooh yeah, my sexy svelte buff jungle...ooh, yeah..."

I've been severely constrained by the healthier parameters.

It's very hard to make the word "legume" sound romantic. She's my "lovely love lentil." But, that's all I've got.

I feel defeated. Deflated. Struggling with existential angst, and a mild headache. Plus, I'm having vivid dreams about gerbils and cilantro-lime brown rice.

So, yeah...I'm thinking this all might have a slight element of competitiveness to it.

She just referred to me yesterday as her, "baby cactus smooshy stop sign frog legs."

Granted, my girlfriend would be the first to characterize her inner-most nature as one of cooperation and peace-loving pacifism. I mean, she used to be an activist, for goodness sakes.

"My anti-war peace sign placard is bigger than your anti-war peace sign placard."

"Shut up, or I will cut you."

Hahaha! Just kidding, honey! Don't hurt me!

My itsy bitsy, sweet, yummy, ferret-nose, wispy nipple curd lips!

The "Straight Agenda" is ruining my banana...

It's all part of their diabolical plan...

So, depending on which studies you consult, somewhere between 85-95% of the population is "straight." I guess this means that the "straights" aren't going to be going anywhere anytime soon, and that we gays are just going to have to learn to live with them. I had kind of been hoping they would all just move to Branson, Missouri...and be happy there with their big belt buckles, neatly coiffed hair, and matching polyester leisure suits.

Since it appears that isn't going to happen, I'm going to choose tolerance.

I've heard about the so called "straight agenda," and I always thought it was some kind of deliberate attempt to make my consumption of bananas awkward. As you can see from the above picture, their plan has been pretty effective. At least in my case. Still, I decided that I could live with the inconvenience...maybe even use it to my advantage to work through some deep-seated emotional issues I have with patriarchy...

But, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately (UH OH). I think there is more to it than just bananas. And cucumbers. And some varieties of squash. And hot dogs. And corn, if you are really freaky.

It occurs to me that the straights are EVERYWHERE, and they have been pushing their lifestyle on me since the day I was born...trying to make their personal, private choices appear to be the only option around...infiltrating Toys R Us pushing their baby dolls and E-Z Bake ovens on me before I even knew what was happening to me...steering me into clothing store sections dominated by frilly, delicate, fragile, pink things that constricted my movements and ability to climb trees.

I don't even LIKE pink (except under some very specific circumstances which I won't cover here).

It has dawned on me that they have been DELIBERATELY working to influence my choice of life partners with the strange and repetitive message that, "someday my Prince will come."

Ewwww!!! No!

Don't threaten me!

Even worse, THEY have totally positioned themselves in the political arena...and not only were our gay marriages demeaned and belittled...apparently they were even ILLEGAL!!! Fortunately, that's almost and finally becoming just a silly part of our country's past...although from time to time I really worry that the hetero handling of marriage (cheating, dysfunction, divorcing at really high rates, remarrying over and over again, having horrid bridemaid dresses) is going to cheapen the meaning of marriage in general...but, again...I'll be tolerant, because I apparently have to be.

Look, I don't care what the straights do in the privacy of their own homes...but I don't appreciate their whole lifestyle being constantly rammed down my throat (so to speak). Consenting adults can do what they want to behind closed doors...but it's almost as if the straights FLAUNT their sexuality...kissing each other in public, holding hands...using their sexuality to sell beer, and cars. And Yoplait yogurt.

I honesty don't care if they are straight, as long as they ACT gay in public...or at least keep their affections to themselves.

Not long ago you couldn't even turn on the TV or go to a movie without seeing heterosexuals doing sex stuff to each other. Thank goodness gay people in the entertainment industry started speaking up, and coming out in droves. I mean, we are kind of over-represented in the entertainment industry due to the fact that we have a disproportionate level of talent and fabulousness amongst our people.

Discriminatory actions and offensive/insulting language are now considered unacceptable in a pretty big way...and often result in consequences for the people who are doing it. I guess in Hollywood that can include "blacklisting"...and be a real career killer (kind of like being "outed" as a gay person USED to be).

Gee, that's too bad! It's sad that the homophobic people are being forced into a closet through the mechanisms of ostracizing and social disapproval. I'll bet it's dark and claustrophobic in there.

I think the response of accusing gay people of having a "gay mafia" to enforce this stuff is kind of silly. It reminds me of someone asking, "Do these pants make my butt look big?" Well, no. It's your large butt that makes your butt look big.

"Do these offensive statements make me look like a homophobic idiot?"

Well, actually, yes. But, it's also your homophobic idiocy that makes you look like a homophobic idiot.

It doesn't matter what pants you wear. At least large butts can be attractive.

There is a concept in sociology called, "relative deprivation." In this context, a person in a previously privileged position will possibly find themselves feeling deprived, threatened, or angry when those who had previously been oppressed start gaining EQUAL standing. Equality itself can seem like an intrusion.

Gay people pointing out the obvious, making noise about it, refusing to hide any longer (in fact, making visibility a protest tool), turning the tables, exposing discriminatory elements in our culture, confronting someone when they offend, and YES...using their positions of power and authority to enforce the point...these are elements of a social change movement. Not a "mafia." That's funny.

If we DID have a mafia, we would somehow have to advance beyond straight men (such as Tom Hanks or Robin Williams) playing gay characters in the movies. We would even need to advance beyond GAY men playing gay characters in the movies. What we would need is some kind of secret super weapon to REALLY blow the presumption of heterosexuality out of the water.

Boom! Take THAT!

I'm going to go eat a banana...wherever and however I want to.

This frog is female, blue, and totally subversive.

Lesbian Gang Signs: A Tutorial

"Hello. I am a lesbian. Are you also a lesbian? Can I meet your dog?"

There are a few "insider" things that we card carrying lesbians usually keep under wraps. Our "industry secrets" if you will.

I've decided to share some of our lesbian gang signs with you.

I could get in a lot of trouble with the National Association of Secret Lesbian Stuff (NASLS). Most people don't even know that our organization exists...so for now we'll just pretend that I...uh... made it up.

I share all of this with you because I think there has been a lot of misinformation and confusion out there. I also think that it is important that straight people be properly equipped if they find themselves in one of the inner city lesbian ghettos...or Home Depot on a Saturday afternoon.

You want to be able to meaningfully communicate with the lesbians. It is also important for both comfort and safety that you know how to both read and interpret  lesbian hand gestures. Failure to understand could be costly, or at the very least, awkward.

The sign at the top is just a simple Identity-fier. It can be deployed by lesbians in most situations...it should not be confused with the "loser" sign, which is positioned directly in front of the forehead. This particular identifying sign was more popular back in the 60's before advances in 'gaydar technology' rendered it nearly obsolete. (There was also some confusion created by the 70's sitcom "Laverne and Shirley")...this sign seems to be making a bit of a comeback now that changing social norms in fashion and hairstyles (and people like Katy Perry) have made instant visual recognition much more difficult.

"Would you like to rent a U-Haul together?"

The "U-Haul" sign was taken directly from the American Sign Language alphabet, and deploys both the "U" and the "H" simultaneously. Be VERY careful in the use of this one, unless you want to end up living with a lesbian of your very own.

"Hey girl, would you like to 'scissor' with me?"

It is extremely important that you avoid this sign at all costs if you are a "straight" person. In fact, if a lesbian deploys this sign at you, try to avoid making direct eye contact, and leave the area immediately. I cannot stress this enough. Just trust me.

There are a few more signs, but I really can't bring myself to model them.

Damn you, 'Thelma and Louise' truck driver

The above photo was an attempt of mine to model what used to be a perfectly acceptable and frequently used sign for a common lesbian activity. Unfortunately, Ridley Scott ruined it by having the truck driver in 'Thelma and Louise' use it improperly. Our collective mental retinas have all been scarred, and it has been appropriated by straight males as part of their poorly executed mating ritual.

Also, be aware that these gang signs probably do not translate cross culturally. In Australia, for example, the above gesture means, "Up yours twice, mate."

I hope this has been helpful...and that NASLS will take into account that I did NOT share the secret handshake. I really want to keep my membership card.

The Care and Feeding of Your Thanksgiving Lesbian...

Don't panic

That time of year is once again upon us when we will gather our family and friends around us, to celebrate and to give thanks for all of the wonderful blessings that have been bestowed in our general directions.

If you are like most American households, you will probably have to deal with the care and feeding of your family lesbian (we ALL have an aunt who is a lesbian-or perhaps a daughter who is experimenting if she is in college). If your lesbian has a partner or a wife, you may even have more than one to tend to. There is no need to panic. I'm here to help.

The first thing to know is that it is very possible that your family lesbian(s) cannot eat anything that you have in your refrigerator, your cupboards, or even at your local Albertsons. If you don't want your family lesbian(s) to show up and only be able to eat the low sodium chick peas (out of a can) that have been hiding in the back of your pantry for several years, you will probably need to make a trip to Trader Joe's (Whole Foods or Sprouts can also help you).

Trader Joe's doesn't actually have a "lesbian section," because the whole store is a lesbian section. The lesbians share it with the hippies, social workers, liberal activists, nutritionists, 'law of attraction' life coaches...and also with a guy named Fred who is trying to cope with a spiritual awakening following his near-death experience.

Remember to avoid anything with meat, animal by-products, processed sugars, or dairy. Make sure that it is organic, free range, has no artificial preservatives or synthetic colors, and is gluten-free. Foods should have an exotic sounding name (tibouli, chimichurri rice, jadida cakes), or maybe just be impossible to pronounce correctly (quinoa). It should have no flavor, and a texture similar to shag carpeting.

I know what you are thinking. You're thinking about buying some more chick peas, aren't you? Well, you can do that if you are planning to make hummus from scratch. Lesbians LOVE hummus. Especially Jill...if she's invited, make a lot (WTF Jill?).

But you really CAN diversify your menu.

Here is an example of what I often purchase in anticipation of my annual lesbian "Second Harvest Potluck," which I mostly hold just to make Pat Robertson nervous because it sounds super Wiccany (I made that word up):

I generally start by getting some Haricot verts to go with the grilled eggplant and zucchini melange. I then pick up some organic, steel-cut quinoa branberry muesli clusters with carob flaxseed sprinkles in a light pomegranate cous cous fig sauce with roasted and salted pepitas on the side.

For dessert we have some dried Chilean mango flakes with re hydrated sea salt.

OK. I have NO idea what I am talking about. I don't even know what a "vert" is, and how the hell are you supposed to rehydrate sea salt? I don't even think branberries exist. As if I know how to cook. OMG.

At Trader Joe's just find Ashley, and tell her you have lesbians coming for dinner. She'll set you up.

Or even better, just ask the lesbians themselves. While it does seem to be true that there are a higher than average number of socially aware and nutritionally deliberate, vegan lesbians out there-they do make tofurkey...so still, no need to panic. Nothing says "Second Harvest" like a soybean curd bird...

 Lesbian potluck leftovers are really the only area in which lesbian's pets (fur babies) might occasionally feel a little deprived...but they are compensated with doggie therapists, pet psychics, play dates, and massages...

And, you know, there is a very good chance that your family lesbian(s) also have no idea what a "vert" is, and really just want to kick back and watch the game with a beer and some nachos.

Organic stone-ground blue corn chips only, please.

The Cornwell Bitch-Slap (and other lesbian literary adventures)...

So, my friend (I will refer to her here as Debbie, mostly because her name is Debbie) has apparently had this photo banned in her house. This is a promotional photo for the new book, "Flesh and Blood" by Patricia Cornwell. I mention this because I took the photo directly from her Facebook page, and figure if I plug the book she won't sue me for using the image.

Actually, it would be ok if she sued me for using the image.

I can hear myself in court now.

"Ms. Nicholson, is it true that you posted this image on your blog without permission and in direct contradiction with United States copyright laws?"

"Yes, your Honor, and that's not all I did with this image..."

Patricia Cornwell is a 57 year-old author of the best selling "Kay Scarpetti" crime mystery series. She is also a lesbian.

She is insanely hot, and makes me want to do ab crunches until I pass out. I mean, 57!!!

I can see how this picture could end up banned in a lesbian household. As my friend stated in the following exchange:

DS: My girlfriend told me I'm not allowed to look at this picture. Spoilsport.

DT (the girlfriend): Cornwell is banned!

DS: Rut Roh. I'm in trouble.

JN: Hubba. Repetitively.

DS: That's what I said, but mysteriously I got slapped and I have no idea why!

JN: It's the famous "Cornwell Bitch-Slap"...don't ever leave one of the books face-side down on the coffee table. Be prepared.

DS: LMFAO! The Cornwell Bitch-Slap is a thing? Who knew?

JN: Right? And it's much more dangerous than the "Rita Mae Brown Headlock."

Or the "Fannie Flagg Chokehold" which first gained notoriety in South Carolina.

I may have made that up. I may have made all of this up.

Anyway, this picture gives me hope that I may still be able to become a hot writer and be banned in lesbian households across America!

We all have to dream.

I'm going to go do some crunches and work on my memoirs.