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   ooooo   ooooo  .oooooo.  oooooooooooo       HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #664
   `888'   `888' d8P'  `Y8b `888'     `8
    888     888 888      888 888                     "Phairguy?"
    888ooooo888 888      888 888oooo8
    888     888 888      888 888    "                by Phairgirl
    888     888 `88b    d88' 888       o               5/31/99
   o888o   o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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        I'll admit: guys piss me off, when I'm interested in them, involved
 with them, dating them, you name it.  In fact, sometimes just the mere
 thought of a creature with a mustache and penis makes me throw expensive
 imported vases through picturesque bay windows.  However, in a purely
 platonic state, I would much rather spend time with a male as opposed to a
 female.

        Obviously, this is either a severe personality flaw or a product of
 a horrible upbringing.  I like to think it is both; however, most people
 only notice the more obvious problems I exhibit and tend to discount the
 masses with whom I spend my time, or rather, that I don't seem to really
 fit with any of them in any sitcom kind of way.

        Growing up, I spent a lot of time with children of both sexes, even
 when I moved countless times.  I always tried to hold a same-sex "best
 friend" like all the other girls; however, this often left me, shall we say,
 less than happy.  And for all the explanations I will toss about my
 childhood friends, I always seem to neglect all the fun I had: hanging out
 with the guys.

        I was the girl on the playground in first grade who stopped running
 when the guys would chase us, trying to kiss us.  It was stupid and cliche
 to run from a stupid boy trying to frighten us away with kisses.  In my
 first act of social outcast status, Jason and I kissed on the playground.

        (Two weeks later, he told me how much he loved fishing, and putting
 the worms on the hooks. I stopped talking to him.)

        In third grade, we moved, and I began my career as a misfit in
 another new school.  It was... a Catholic school.  It was hell.

        If you have ever attended a private Catholic school, you would know
 immediately that, true to stereotype, all the girls are stuck-up snobs and
 all the boys are obnoxious nunbeaters.  It was amazing; I was only in third
 grade, yet everyone just seemed so incredibly ignorant.

        I hung out with a couple of the girls, but I had the most fun playing
 Transformers with Harley and Chris, and even occasionally going to Chris's
 house and listening to Bon Jovi.  I hung out in my new neighborhood with all
 these cool BMX bike guys, and I hated all the girls -- especially Nikkia.
 That stupid bitch told me that girls get pregnant when a boy puts his finger
 in your middle hole.  Luckily I knew better by that age.  Magic finger my
 ass.

        In fifth grade I changed schools again, and was faced with a whole
 new neighborhood and school of kids.  (At least these ones weren't Catholic
 school brats.)  Most of the girls in school were tawny whores and drove me
 up the wall.  The few female friends I made liked to steal from me.
 However, Toby and I got along really well.  That is, until, the big fifth
 grade romance began.  Then he turned into an asshole, but that's beside the
 point.

        Junior high wasn't really all that neat; I had a couple close female
 friends, but most the guys at that age just suck complete and total ass.
 This weird kid, Jason, was really neat.  He was a devout Jehovah's Witness
 and unlike anything I'd ever seen.  We got into a little trouble here and
 there for talking in class and such.

        High school, of course, was where my social skills went straight out
 the window and I spent a lot of time with all kinds of crazy people.  I used
 to think I had very few friends in high school; then, realizing I was
 subscribing to that traditional "same-sex friends" concept, I understood
 that I actually was quite a socialite.  I had a ton of guy-friends.  A TON.
 And just recently, when visiting a friend, I have managed to keep in touch
 with one of my more prominent male high school friends, and he forced me to
 sing all kinds of bad music for him.

        In college and out, I still hang out with guys as opposed to chicks.
 I have only one close female friend, whereas I have a large circle of male
 friends.  And even still, I get into more tizzy silly fights with my one
 female friend than with all my male friends combined.

        I won't go into detail about the guys I ended up dating.  I can sum
 it up quite simply: I should not be allowed to date guys.  It's just not
 good for anyone involved.

        Some have been known to think that I am too much like a guy for a guy
 to date, because I am very domineering and obnoxious and like G.I. Joe more
 than My Little Pony.  I've also been known to do very guy-like things in
 relationships, like not calling back, ditching, going out all night without
 calling, having reckless un-sober sex (leave me alone it was only once), or
 simply being an asshole.

        I've checked my pants several times; I indeed am female.  When I do
 stereotypical chick things, like dating assholic guys, I end up being a
 stereotypical chick.

        At first, I thought that maybe I was a gay man trapped in a chick's
 body.  Then, I realized that I don't like interior decorating or art or
 butt sex all that much, and knew that couldn't possibly be right.  I thought
 that maybe I have some weird Y chromosome that didn't develop the proper
 equipment.  Alas, I'm not missing parts, I have completely different parts,
 so it can't just be a simple genetic flaw.  Finally, I just wondered if I
 had been given some kind of top-secret brain transplant.  I don't know, I
 haven't found any scars yet, so that one just isn't playing out.

        This model's defective, sir.  Do I get a refund?

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 [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #664 - WRITTEN BY: PHAIRGIRL - 5/31/99 ]