Imagine my surprise when you grabbed me last weekend at The Eagle--you're not a man, but a tipsy little pop-tart girl! Had anyone grabbed YOU in your natural habitat, you would have screamed bloody sexual assault and some poor sap would be registering as a sex offender for life.
Had you simply introduced yourself, I would have said, "Good to make your acquaintance, but I have a friend waiting." A friend that's a burly, hairy, cock and balls swinging MAN. The kind I like to fuck and suck, and who want to fuck and suck me.
But no, you had to be a sophomoric little dumbass undoubtedly trained at L'école Silverado de Homo Rigueur that all fags are waxed, plucked, and perfumed boy-like waifs wearing hip-hugger jeans and squealing in delight at your childish and fatuous shenanigans. (You GO girl!)
Listen, sister: The Eagle is still a HOMOSEXUAL BAR where the men are looking for MEN. The next time you visit, show some fucking respect, you twit. --Anonymous