Seriously. Or the gays in general. I’m goo goo for Gaga as much as the next person. But if there’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian, why do I worry that I am one? I mean, I know that I’m not, but does it make me a lesbian if…
… every time I make out with a girl, I’m drunk?
… if I fantasize about getting it on with Justin Bieber?
… if I think of lady lumps whenever I eat my Cocoa Puffs?
… if I confuse the term “going dutch” with lezzie porn?
… if I have season tickets to the L.A. Sparks?
… if I still rock Katy Perry’s “I Kissed A Girl” like it came out yesterday?
… if what happened in Vegas didn’t stay in Vegas?
… if I want to do the nasty with the fanciest lesbian of all time, Prince?
… if I hope to see another Jenny Craig commercial to peep Jennifer Hudson’s ever-shrinking figure?
… if I get butterflies in my tummy when one of my girlfriends says she’ll “hook me up”?
… if I plan to dress up as a vagina for the annual West Hollywood Halloween Parade?
… if I keep my growing collection of Victoria’s Secret catalogues under my bed?
… if I give my vibrator a female nickname?
… if I go to gay bars in an effort to avoid getting hit on by guys?
… if I stare at my friend’s ginormous boobs while she breast feeds?
… if I look forward to my yearly visit to the gynecologist?
… if I thought a Padma Lakshmi was the gift of a happy ending from a masseuse?
I mean, those things don’t make me a lezzie, right?