Lilah ,'Conviction (1)'
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I'm still flinching, and that post has scrolled to the next page. It's mere proximity is making the crackly noise of "not over here, thanks!"
Hm. A quote. Or two.
"Just what this country needs - a cock in a frock on a rock."
"Is that an...ABBA turd?"
It's a fine line between clever and stupid.
I didn't ask to come on this trip, did I? No, I don't think so! Did I ask you to be making me over and jump all kinds of hoops like some circus poodle? No, I don't think so! Do I want to go to jail because of some cop killer? No, I don't think so! So as soon as we get to the next town I am jumping on the first man and riding him all the way to New York City and away from you two puckered up, stuck up putas 'cause this trip sucks! It sucks!
When a straight man puts on a dress and goes on a sexual kick he is a transvestite. When a man is a woman trapped in a man's body and has a little operation he is a Transsexual. When a gay man has way too much fashion sense for one gender he is a drag queen. And when a tired little Latin boy puts on a dress, he is simply a boy in a dress!
I'd like to share a revelation that I've had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species. I realized that you're not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment, but you humans do not. You move to an area, and you multiply, and multiply, until every natural resource is consumed. The only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet, you are a plague, and we are the cure.
Get away from me, Claude.
ita, it's absolutely fascinating that - hard on the heels of a quote about drag queens - you quoted the scene where I shrieked, "Tick!" in the theater, having finally recognized the drag-queen eyebrows on Agent Smith.
It had festered in my wee little skull for weeks, then suddenly I had it, and the response was automatic, exactly as if someone had goosed me.
I was mortified.
I hate to see you go, but I LOVE to watch you leave.
I've got a condition. I get confused sometimes. What if I've imagined all this? What if I've finally turned into what they've always said I would turn into? A maniac. A psycho killer.
We all go a little mad sometimes.