What a Pathetic Lesbian I Would Be

This hamburger is gay.

If you spend much of your time reading news articles about sex, like I do, you’ll see that the number one sex topic in the news for the past couple of years now has been same sex marriage.   Every day I read stories about some country legalizing it (good morning Vietnam!) or some fast food restaurant criminalizing it (Eat Mor Big Macs!) and sometimes I come across an article like this from the Smithsonian magazine, Same Sex Finch Couples Form Strong Bonds.

The article describes an experiment conducted by American and French researchers who raised a bunch of finches in sex segregated groups.  Within those groups most of the finches formed pair bonds with members of their own sex, exhibiting typical (for finches) heterosexual behavior toward one another: preening, nuzzling, singing, all the things that boy finches normally do with girl finches.  Let’s see what happened next.

The scientists then tested the bonds in the male-male couples by introducing some females to the party. A few birds were tempted by the ladies, but when the females were removed, the male-male couples reformed.

Am I the only one who thinks this sounds a lot like the little finches were in prison?  (No, I’m not.  Some moron in the comments on the article noticed this too and said a bunch of moronic shit like morons do.  The moron.)

Who are you saving your 2% for?
I still can’t get over Portia de Rossi with Ellen DeGeneres. I mean, I understand if you have to have pussy, but does it have to be Ellen DeGeneres’s?

I’m 98% heterosexual (I’m reserving the 2% for whenever Scarlett Johannson or Portia de Rossi become available), but if I were absolutely forced into a lesbian relationship, like if I were in this finch prison, or if I found myself in some Kafka-esque novel where I wake up a freaking finch, I don’t think I could cope as well as most of the zebra finches did when they were forced into same sex coupling.  I imagine it going something like this:

Me: Oh, hey, hi.  Where did all the boys go?

Lesbian Finch: Vaporized, I think.

Me: (feathers ruffling in shock and dismay) Vaporized?

Lesbian Finch: What does it matter? Maybe that big dog that runs around here finally got them.  Who knows? They’re gone, they split, sayonara, hasta la vista, baby!  But I’m here.  Wanna make out?

Me:  Make out?

Lesbian Finch:  Why do you keep repeating everything I say?  Is there something wrong with you? (speaking slowly, flapping her wings, mimicking American Sign Language)  I said, do . . . you  . . .want . . . to . ..  make . . . out?

Me:  I don’t know what sort of finch you are, but making out isn’t the first thing that comes to my mind when half our species has just been vaporized!

Lesbian Finch:  Maybe I exaggerated a little bit about that vaporization thing.  They’re around here somewhere, but you can’t get at them. They separated us.  So we have to make out, ’cause they’re making out, where ever they are.

Me:  I don’t know about making out.  I’ve never kissed a girl.

Lesbian Finch:  It’s easy.  Let me show you. (She puckers up and leans in)

Me: (backing away, just out of  beak-reach and pointing at her breasts with my wing) But what about those?

Lesbian Finch:  What about them?  You’ve got them, too.

Me:  Do I have to touch yours?

Lesbian Finch:  Do you want to?

Me:  No!

Lesbian Finch: (shrugging) Makes no difference to me.  Now kiss me!

Me:  I don’t wanna!  (I fly off)

See, I would be one of the little finches that didn’t pair off in that experiment.  Unlike the other finches who happily preened and sung to their homosexual partners, I’d be the finch who sat alone by herself in the corner of the cage, flapping my wings menacingly whenever any other finch came close, making little feeble finch noises until I succumbed to some horrible finch disease, or got eaten by a cat.

Royalty free stock photos including the image of the hamburger in this post can be found at Stock.XCHNG.  The photo of Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi has been so widely disseminated on the internet that I cannot determine attribution.

22 thoughts on “What a Pathetic Lesbian I Would Be

      • Urethra Franklin says:

        In human sexuality a non-reciprocal party (one who wants to be pleasured but prefers not to return the favor) is often referred to as a Pillow Princess, hence in avian sexuality … well, you get the picture.

        And don’t beat yourself up over only being a two-percenter. Not all of us were born to be awesome lesbians like me. Be proud of who you are and keep rockin’ your bad-ass heterosexuality sistah!


  1. rebecca2000 says:

    I hope you will use your two percent on me because I LOVE YOU! 1) because you gave me a new website to get my creative commons photos 2) I don’t dig vaginas but I hate what a big issue human rights has become.

    I am now an avid follower of you.

    That said, I really hope you take the time to check out my blog. I write satire and humor. There is no topic off limit. I am not wp.com I am wp.org so you have to follow me through facebook or twitter (on the left colomn of my page) or email. If not cool still adore your page. 🙂


  2. deesearching says:

    Portia de Rossi… if there is ANY woman to become a lesbian for, it’s her. I find myself jealous of Elen DeGeneres indeed.
    Anyway, your blog absolutely amuses me. If I were one of those finches, I’d be more focused on kamikazee-ing any human being who came near. Just like if I’m trapped on a desert island with the last man on earth, I’m not concerned with gettin’ it on. I’m swimming to the next damn payphone.


    • Karen says:

      I know, right? That Lesbian Finch is a little too horny, considering the circumstances . . .
      But I dunno. If you really are on a desert island, waiting for rescue, how else do you pass the time?


  3. stillstrange says:

    Oh, that’s funny. I, myself would probably just join you in the corner to try to become a friend because I am not nor ever will be a Lesbian.


  4. Urethra Franklin says:

    You know, the more I consider it the more I think you might need to make room for me in the wings flapping menacingly corner. Because as appealing as I find the idea of being the lone lesbian finch amongst a flock of frustrated, (mostly) curious heterosexual finches (ideally of the MILF-y, soccer mom variety), I don’t so much relish the thought of anything with a beak going down on me.


    • Karen says:

      Glad to see you’re still thinking about this post. The idea of lesbian finches is pretty hard to shake, isn’t it?

      All the commenters on this blog are just too freaking funny. That image of a bird pecking at my ladyparts, oh, boy, oh boy . . .



Comments are closed.