Maybe I lied.

I had gluten-y cookies yesterday and felt no pain, so I decided to push the limit and have a few pieces of pizza for dinner. Bad idea. I was seriously curled up in pain all night and had to spend half the night in the bathroom. Too much information? It sucked. And my stomach is still sort of killing me.

I forgot to comment on your tyrade against working with a bunch of beavers. Imagine that, multiplied, and you have my office. We are a bunch of fags, so there is all sorts of whispering, mocking behind backs, and shady dealings, just like you have with the ladies. But add to that an inordinant amount of burping, walking around the office with one's hand down one's pants (and I'm talking about the bosses, not the models), and bathrooms where people don't seem to understand how the roll of toilet paper makes it onto the little roller mounted on the wall. It is gross. And I remember every time you mention one of the queens you work with, you mention that he's usually femme. I think that's a natural thing that occurs. When I'm at my part-time gig, I work with one guy and a lot of women. I turn into a sassy, flaming mess. There's something internal that takes over where I feel like I have to act like a big fucking girl to make everyone feel safe or something. I don't get it. I mean, you've been to my porn office. We're a bunch of homos, but we're not exactly a femme-y bunch. But put one of us around a bunch of women and something flips. It's very strange. You women hold some sort of power over men, even the gay ones.

I know you love the gays, but have you ever met one you really didn't like? Every time I meet a gay dude who acts like a complete asshole, he has girls SWARMING around him. They eat it up. What is that about?