tired of sharing.

i've been taught to share since the day i got my first toy. i even had to share my matchbox cars with leah, my younger and only sister. they were boys toys. she didn't need to play with 'em. contrary to popular belief, i didn't play with her dolls (except to chop their hair off or dismember them).

no there are life-size boy toys i'm forced to share. they're called men.

now these, like the cars of my youth, come in all shapes and sizes. some are luxury while others are just (sorry tim..) kia's. some come with accesories while others are just stock.

as a child, i wasn't real particular about which car i liked. i wasn't too fond of the hot-rods with the big engines bulging from the hoods. nor was i a fan of the jaguars, and such. i liked 'em all. they had their own little city i built for them, complete with roads and businesses made from rubbish and twigs and all the cool things little boys like to play with.

why can't i do that now? why is it that when boys quit playing in the dirt, they get dirty? doesn't make sense. and put two boys together and it gets muddy, which is where i'm at now.

boys suck. and they smell funny.

i'm beginning to believe that the only way to have a successful boy-boy relationship in this town is to not be here. i need lesbians -- the big bull-dykas -- and only lesbians to take me to a private island not even accessible by boats (once we get there) and bring me the perfect man.

until that happens, i'm tired of sharin'.