I'm Done With this Gay Shit

It's official. I'm done being gay. Whatever sick joke God has played on me, consider me over it. I used to think it was cool that I liked women. I was never going to be a teen mom, and I could finally say a few slurs. All I thought I had to do was just not be a loser idiot man, and I'd be fighting off a horde of horny women.

But there are like three lesbians here, guys. And they've all already hooked up and, if we're being real, are definitely cooler than me (sue a girl for wearing leggings as fashion sometimes). Every girl is either my ex, my ex's ex, or a drunk straight girl, and at this point, that last one is sounding like a pretty solid option. Who can blame me after a girl got my initials tattooed on her lip, named her cat after me, and introduced me to her terminally ill grandma, only to tell me that she wants to explore "loving herself" for a while. So this Pride Month, I'm doing the truly brave thing and turning straight. If anyone wants me, I'll be learning what bronzer is.