In Search of Kindred Spirits

What if I pass out? What if I actually pass the fuck out from laughing too hard?

Are you ready for the best lesbian personals ad I've ever seen?

I'm not sure if you are.

You couldn't even make this shit up.

Here you go, homos!

"In Search of Kindred Spirits"

"Hi! *HUG* Let's meet for lunch & maybe go to a park where we can take a walk afterward. Other ideas are once we get to know each other we could hold hands & watch Tori Amos DVD's & Bjork videos, eat Kettle Corn, & cuddle. If you know how to cook maybe we could make some meals together... I'd also love to work out together. It has been years since I've been with a woman; I miss it SO much! I'm STD-free. It is important to me to stay that way. I'd like to play music, dance with you, kiss, laugh, & explore spirituality together. If you'd like to assist me in de-cluttering my apartment (I'm a packrat) I can give you a massage in exchange (I used to be a massage therapist)! Non-smoker a must. Believer in faeries a plus. "

Jesus. H. Christ on a bike.
This woman is the reason straight people make fun of lesbians! Hell, she's the reason I make fun of lesbians.

She's the answer to every question!
Go on, try it.

"Should we have sex?"
-"We could eat Kettle Corn, & cuddle."

"What am I going to do on Tuesday night?"
-"Assist me in de-cluttering my apartment (I'm a packrat)!"

"What are the important things in life?"
-"Non-smoker a must. Believer in faeries a plus."

"What do you want to do for your birthday?"
-"We could kiss, laugh, & explore spirituality together."

"Gimme the remote. What do you want to watch?"
-"Tori Amos DVD's & Bjork videos."





I desperately want to meet this woman.
Faerie-believing packrat-lady, where are you?? Please contact me immediately!


You'll know me when we meet -I'm the embodiment of every dyke stereotype you've ever heard. I have 11 cats(aren't kitties magical?), love snuggling with sweatpants on, never go out, worship crystals, and want to talk about our relationship until one of us pukes. I want to marry you! I, too, love Tori Amos! I, too, love Kettle Corn!


We're made for one another. *HUG*

Today's topic is no joke, everybody. It is for serious. I need to talk about Lesbian Overload.

Fact:

On Saturday night, I was in Minneapolis, and I went to a dyke function called Boobie Trap. Cute, right?

It had all the makings of a good night - it was at a leatherfag-bar called 'The Bolt', my best friend was going to perform, and I had a seriously shiny new clip-on blond ponytail, fresh from Walgreens. I couldn't wait. All day I talked about Boobie Trap - what was I gonna wear? who was dating whom? how many drinks until Mea takes her clothes off on the dance floor?

And then we got there and promptly left.

I mean, we got our I.D.s checked, we paid our money, and we walked downstairs into the club, but...

I took one look into that dimly-lit, crowded bar, and I Absolutely. Fucking. Panicked.

LESBIAN OVERLOAD!!!!!!!

There were girls everywhere! Making out against the walls! Grabbing the hot bartender's ass! Oogling the mostly-naked go-go dancers! Dancing in throbbing groups, pressing up against each other on the dance floor, shoving for drinks, fucking in the bathroom...all the things that make a lezzie-night great.

And I had to leave.

Fact: Lesbian Overload occurs when there is so much estrogen packed into a small amount of space that the air tastes faintly of sweat and vadge. Hundreds and hundreds of women, all of them hunting for springtime sex. A bitch couldn't even breathe without getting her period!

Lesbian Overload can do crazy shit to your genetic makeup. It can, among other things, give you the shakes, activate your 'flight-or-fight' survival instincts, force you to drink three Long Island iced-teas and then text your ex, or cause you to think you look good doing the Electric Slide in a sports bra. This has been documented by scientists.

Anyway! with me, when it strikes, Lesbian Overload sends an urgent message to my nerves that's a bit like this:

Brain: "Krista, these dykes are going to use up all the oxygen and then you'll DIIIIIIIEE!! Get the fuck out while you can!"

Me: But there are strippers.

Brain: "RUUUUUUUUUUUUUNN!"

I'm so disappointed in myself. I wanted to stay - one go-go dancer could put her leg all the way behind her head. Is this the beginning of something I need to take pills for?

On Your Daily TO - DO List:

Katherine Moennig

Katherine Moennig.
A.k.a. Krista's Unhealthy Dyke-Celebrity Obsession.
Notice the prominent hipbones.  Let me just cut my wrists open on those.
She plays Shane on the L-Word. The L-Word is a TV show on Showtime about lezzies that you should be goddammit TiVo-ing. Netflix that shit!
nothealthynothealthynothealthynothealthynothealthynothealthynothealthynothealthynothealthynothealthynothealthynothealthy

Jason Is Overly Interested.

Morning, all y'all! This is Jason. Don't be alarmed.

Jason is the first straight male I've made friends with in about 3 years. He managed this incredible feat by being unbelievably, breathtakingly crass. Jason shocks me.

He is also the one person I know who can be counted upon to say EXACTLY what he's thinking.

Doesn't have a filter, this boy. If he's thinking it, it's coming out of his mouth at the same time. Now, this can be fun, but it can also make easily-offended folks (read: boring people) upset. Here are some choice, direct quotes from Jason that I overheard at a single party:

1) "You're pretty. And a little fat. But I like that. A tummy is really like a third tit."

2) "Wow. You're not funny. Even at all."

3) "Hey, you DO look like a dude!"

4) "What? I wasn't listening. I was looking at your boobs."


He's a hero of mine.
Anyway! Jason loves this blog, and now he's going to contribute on a regular basis. Jason is going to text me all the filthy straight-boy questions about lesbians he's been trying not to ask, and we're going to read them here on Effing Dykes!

So, Jason Is Overly Interested:

Q: "Krista, when I have sex, it's like 2 to 10 minutes where we're actually doin' it. How do lesbians know when they've had sex?"

A: Jason, that's a really fucking good question. Problem is, I don't actually know the answer - it's all relative. Lots of things lesbians do in bed count as sex. Some girls think that anything you do in bed counts as sex. But, please - where do you draw the line? Kissing? Spooning? Um, no.


Plenty of dykes think you've had sex if fingers enter the vagina at any time. But what if you just touch each other and don't go in? Hmmm.

Another popular definition is "you've had sex if she went down on you." 'Cause lesbians love to eat pussy, right? But that definition is stupid, especially if you're a picky-ass bitch who won't put her mouth anywhere near someone's crotch for the first few fucktimes. (soi'maprudesofuckingsueme. I don't eat pussy until we're in a relationship. It's too personal for hookups.)


The only actual answer I can give you, Jason, is: Lesbians have had sex if they think they did. There's no gold standard, like you straights with your 'dick-up-the-vadge.' Weird, right? And this can be tricky. For example - after getting fingerbanged in a bar bathroom at the age of 18, I was elated. I had finally had lesbian sex!

.........or had I?
Is this not complicated? Every lezzie's definition of sex is different. My definition, for future reference, is: Fingers, oral, or toys - all of it is sex.


And Jason? Even if queer girls don't have cocks, we all still know when sex is finished. And it ain't after no 2 to 10 minutes.

Happy, perv?

You know you're a trashy hooker when you're in a cab, hooch-dress on, coffee in hand, at 10:30 on a Saturday morning, on your way to meet a new Craigslist "friend."

I'm just sayin'.

Anyway! the point is, while in a very compromising position, I learned some important information on how to spot Undercover Lesbians when you're in the deep South. My new friend was from Texas, and I had gaydar questions for her. I did a little stark-naked (okaywejustrolledmydressup) reporting. Working while screwing! I'm a workaholic. I should get a tax write-off for this shit.

Here's what I learned:

Apparently, it's quite difficult to determine who's a muffdiver in Texas and who isn't. And you can get your ass kicked for asking. So Texas lesbians have a saying that they use to police themselves when they're about to ask a cute farmgirl out:

"Is she a lesbian, or is she an equestrian?"

Hee. Now, this question is amazing, because it sums up the exact problem with girlie gaydar in the South - lots of girls look gay because they work on farms with horses all day, but very few of them are.

Doesn't she look corn-fed and wholesome? Doesn't she look like she wants to let her hair out of that bun and make sweet love to you? Look at her stroking that horse's flank. That could be your ass.
Dykes are genetically hard-wired to love women who are good at shit like camping. Therefore they cannot resist an outdoorsy lil' Horse Girl. They have to ask her out - can't help it.

But they must try not to, or else they'll be clubbed to death by that girl's 14 born-again Baptist brothers.

However, I do see how you might get confused about what's what. In this dressage picture, we have all the trappings of fun-times lezzie role-playing: the riding crop, the menswear-styled jacket, the evil sneer, the knee-high leather boots. But do not be fooled - this girl is an equestrian.
Not a lesbian.

Damn.

It is hard to tell the difference! I didn't even know the lesbian-or-equestrian thing was an issue until I got home and did some Emergency Googling. My friend was right - farmgirls look like freckled, fresh-faced dykes.
Why can't we just go back to the 80's, when an earring in the right ear was the only signal we needed?

Um, Kelly Has A Question

Everyone, meet Kelly.

Kelly is The Straightest Girl I Know.

For serious. Kelly is so, so, unbelievably straight. She subscribes to Cosmo. She thinks "Legally Blonde 2" was a good movie. She owns 37 tubes of identical pink lip gloss. She was on the Bay Port Pom Pom squad. She knows who won "The Bachelor." She has a pink, heart-shaped picture frame around a picture of her boyfriend. She loooooves boys - all boys. She obsesses over makeup and her perfect dream day involves candy, sexwithaman, manicures, a massage, and the rest of the day spent trying out eyeshadow shades at Sephora. The absolute straightest girl I have ever met.
She's one of my favorite people.

Anyway! Kelly has done us a favor here at Effing Dykes. She has agreed to write down some of the more appalling straight-girl questions she has asked me, over the years, about being a lesbian. All for the benefit of Education.


So, Um, Kelly Has A Question:

Q: "Krista, don't all lesbians just really kind of want a dick? Is that why they like dildos?"

A: Kelly, what the fuck. Ten points for honesty, though - I can see how this is going to help many straight people understand dykes better.

Ok, first of all, NO. All lesbians do not want a dick. I can think of only one lesbian I know who wants a penis, and she just wants one so she can pee on things. I myself want nothing to do with a dong - they're weird, they squirt stuff that stains, they're unpredictable, and they're needy. I don't approve. It would maybe be fun to fuck a girl with one, but I can do that already!

I do, however, like dildos, just like you said. But...I don't think a dildo is a penis. It is a silicone sex toy - kind of hard to confuse with something that is actually growing and attached to a person. Bite a penis, the boy goes, "Ow." Bite a dildo, it keeps its fucking mouth shut. Dildos are better.

Dildos are better because they give a girl the ability to fuck another girl hands-free with a strap-on. Dildos are better because they cannot spray cum, unexpectedly, in your eye. Dildos are better because you can have more than one without getting called a whore. More than one man? Whore. More than one dildo? Lucky!

And the assortment you can choose from! All different sizes! And shapes and colors! Can you get a boy that comes with a hot-pink vibrating penis? No. Can you buy a dildo shaped like President Obama that has multicolored glitter twinkling all over its surface? Yes. Get it? Lesbians like dildos because it feels good to have something in there. But we don't want a guy to be attached. Dykes are kind of selfish that way - we want all of the pleasure of penis-sex without having to do the things that would ordinarily guarantee us that pleasure - i.e. wash someone else's dishes every goddamned day, fake an orgasm, or pretend we care when our boyfriend has a hard day at work.

Because I'm not gonna lie. Sex with a man feels good. Penises feel good. But men don't turn me on. Women do. So what should a girl who is turned on by women and likes the feel of penises do? Umm, how about get a dildo and call it a day?

Mmmkay, Kelly?

Storytime!

Once upon a time (okaylastseptember) there was a dyke named Krista.

I lived, at the time, in an apartment that was next door to a private Catholic school. One day, as I was driving home from work in my glamorous Ford Escort hatchback, I saw her: the vision of my high-school Catholic fantasies. She was walking along, her skirt rolled too high, wearing over-the-knee white socks and blowing a pink chewing-gum bubble. She was tall - she had long, honey-colored hair blowing back in the breeze, a sweater falling off one arm, and one of her shoelaces was untied. Adorable.

Knowing, as I do, that all Catholic schoolgirls make out with one another, I did what any suave lesbian would do - I drove around the block again. Stalkers fall in love, too!

There she was again. God, she was perfect! She even walked like a dyke. If only she wasn't sixteen! Aaaagh. Stupid morals-getting-in-the-way.

I drove home, foaming at the mouth. I couldn't wait to tell my roommate, Tawnya, about my discovery: there were hot girls at St. Mark's, and our window looked out onto their playing field! I began picturing long afternoons involving me, Tawnya, chai, and Volleyball Tryouts.

I took another look at the St. Mark's sign as I parked. And that's when I saw it: "St. Mark's - Strengthening Hearts, Minds, and Spirits. Pre-K through 8th."

Pre-K through 8TH GRADE???!!!?? Ohhhhh I was going to Hell. Oh, Jesus. I HAD BEEN FANTASIZING ABOUT A 13-YEAR-OLD!

This just goes to show that not all sex offenders need to register.

I was actually really embarrassed about this whole episode - I refused to even look at St. Mark's for about six months. Tawnya brings this story up at every possible opportunity.

I realize that not everyone has as many problems with "boundaries" as I do, but...Has anyone else ever been tricked? Did you ever go for a baby dyke who snuck into the club with a fake I.D.?

Or are these the warning signs of impending cougar status?

Celebrilezzies??

Hi kids!
Let's play Spot The Homo!

Find the gay girl in this picture. (Hint: there's only one.)


Point to her with your finger.

The girl you're pointing at is probably the only one that likes it when you poke her with your finger.
Attention Samantha Ronson! Did you know your girlfriend is straight?
'Cause everyone else knows.


Aww, fuckit. I can't stand it. I can't stand it! I HAVE to talk about Lindsay Lohan and her girlfriend Samantha. I'm sorry, but I just can't hold it in anymore. It's like trying to hold in a fart for so long that your ears start bleeding.

Lindsay Lohan is gay the way that Burger King sells "flame-broiled" burgers. Yeah effing right!

After eight or nine bad movies, Lindsay has figured out she can't act. She needed a new hook! And what better way to set tongues a-waggin' than to pick up a starving dyke DJ and force her into stardom by giving her Celebriherpes?


Now, my heart goes out to Sam because I have a soft spot for anorexic-boi types. It's because I'm a sick fuck. The hungrier they look, the more I wanna feed 'em. Bring on the clavicle bones!





Now, from just the few photos posted here, we have conclusive evidence that Sam is a True Gay. Observe her classic poses for the camera - the cocky peace sign; the upturned amused look; combined with the "aggressive confidence/no actual confidence" manner so peculiar to bois? Gay. Gaaaay.

There's not an ounce of dyke sass coming from Linds. She's so femmy she's....um, straight.

Here's another fun game: Try to picture Lindsay and Sam having sex. Can you do it? I can. Do you hear that funny noise? That's their hipbones grinding each other into dust!
Omigod, do you think when they're alone, they like, borrow each other's clothes and stuff? That would be soooo cool!

That's why I would date girls.

DYKE STYLE UPDATE!!

Hypothetical Situation:

The apartment next to you has been vacant for weeks. Today, as you come home from work, SHE is hauling boxes up the stairs. Your hot, sweating, thin-tank-top-wearing, hair-falling-out-of-her-ponytail-and-brushing-fetchingly-against-her-neck, GORGEOUS new neighbor. Thank you, Lord Ganesh.
She seems unaware that her shirt is slightly see-through. She smiles at you.

A muscled, cheerful man is helping her move in. (Fuck.)

Let's see what we're working with.


She has: shoulder-length hair, tiiiiight jeans, mascara, keys carabiner-clipped to her belt loop, a probable boyfriend, an leather satchel, one of those stupid headband-elastic things, and baby-blue New Balance sneakers on.

What is she?

Solution: Please. Quit insulting me! This is too easy - use your eyes! Girlfriend is wearing a carabiner!

Carabiners (below) are the exclusive property of dykes.

We love them because they're handy, seem like tools, and we think they make us look like this:
Which they don't. But it doesn't matter, because any girl wearing her keys on a carabiner (so they bang against her leg) might as well be wearing Homo Jingle Bells.
Fa la la la lez!