I hate starting trends, but this bi-sexual thing is out of control.
I made it hip waaaaay before the cotton gin was even invented. I remember it clearly. I was out to pasture whipping the 'hinds of the oxen collecting snapdragons and plowing the field. Under the brazen beams of the sun I perspired some inspiration. If I put a Bi in front of the Sexual and fastened it together with a hyphen I knew it would make Bi-Sexual. I thought it would aid the community. Help bring us together. Help define the confines that inhibit us. But no, not in Salem, Massachusettes in 18th century. It was "Devil This! Burn That! Sever his balls with this!" So, I moved.
Running for my life, I later forgot the brilliant word I had coined. That is until I moved into a condo in the East Village with Allen Ginsberg. He said, "Oh, bi-sexual! We've been saying that for years!" I hissed under my breath, and calmed my seventh chakra. As long as it was out. That's all I cared about because all I want is for the people to know. To know what I know.
Now that I have my own blog, and people write to me it comforts me to see that so many of you are "bi-sexuals". It comforts me to know you feel comfortable with your sexuality. Kudos to you! However, I've given it up. It's too trite. It's too obtuse. It's too trendy.
So, I'm coming out as a Tri-Sexual! No, it doesn't mean I have sex with animals (you dirty perverted minds). It's such a "mysterious" sexuality. Straight involves too much emotional conditioning and blood. Gay is too much of a hot button topic. I'm not one of those radicals - like Ted Danson and Mary Steenburgen. I like hiding in the limelight just as much as I do standing center stage awash in it. But, Tri-Sexual opens the possibility for something...else. It keeps the options - wide open.
While snapping towels in the locker room with Antonio Banderas we laughed at how little our "members" looked after a cold shower. He kept pointing and laughing. I was pointing, laughing and secretly taking pictures with my camera phone. I joked, "Gosh, Anton, you better never have a nude scene with a prick that small." He laughed in that way he does as Zorro then replied, "Well, let me show you how big it can get..." Just then Katie Couric and Angela Bassett walked in - thinking, of course, that this was the Ladies locker room. (damn cockblockers!) Immediately, they were aroused by our provocative towel fight and soon joined in the fray.
In a quick flash, I had fashioned Angela's hair extensions into a splendid positioning harness. Couric approached me with her usual zeal and gummy smile. She reclined in the synthetic hair harness and popped out a microphone from where I'd really rather not say. Then we all formed a perfect triangle, slipped off Antonio's class ring with our "special places" and somewhere in between that and a pair of sweaty leg warmers Tri-sexuality was born. (weighing 8 lbs. 2 oz.) You'll have to re-read this paragraph 437 times to really get the gist of it all.
Needless to say, the ring was a perfect fit for Couric's Aereola. I mean we've all seen those 'nips before. We'll never forget Bora Bora, 1962. The martinis, the quaaludes and the midget's arm.
Well, I'm off to Antarctica. North Pole, south pole. I don't know which pole Antarctica holds, but I know, my pilot, Manuel will be holding one of them. I'm off to save those cute baby seals. But not before I skin one and mutilate it into a savvy three quarter inch waist blazer for fall fashion.
Let the haute couture race begin!!
Eat my dust, Gwyneth Paltrow, I'm going to "Bounce" you from this "Duet", and I have the box that's fits your severed head perfectly.
Beckett Boo, esq.