Some of my family- and friends think I’m gay. My cousins’ excuse for this is because I never talk to them about girls, which is weird because I don’t think anyone talks to their female cousins about women as it would be awkward. Especially when they’re FIFTEEN. Seriously, if you’re 20 and need advice about women from a fifteen year old, you should make turning gay a top priority.
I’ve studied psychology, human behaviour and stalked plenty of women so I know enough about them. And if I have any questions, I can always ask my female friends. And by female friends I mean weird old men pretending to be girls in chatrooms.

My friends also think I’m gay because I’m always having sex with men. I also wear women’s clothes, but that’s not really as gay as they make it out to be.
I don’t have many friends, for some strange reason. I’m a really neat guy!

Lately I’ve been getting a bit worried; I don’t think I’m turning gay because I spend the same amount of time writing love letters to Carmen Electra (18 hours) and the same amount of time writing the hate mail and death threats because she never replies (6 hours). But gay people probably love Carmen Electra too. They’d have to be SUPER GAY to resist her sexiness.

No, what worries me is that I’m turning into a WOMAN. Because I’ve been obsessing over these shoes.
They’re sold out, but I SIMPLY MUST HAVE THEM! I obsessively check everyday to see if they’re back in stock and ring every week to double check… I scour the internet and trawl through the highstreet searching for an alternative shoe to fill this void in my soul and heart so I can be complete and content with my new, fabulous shoes.
But alas, none other can contend with this pair. I am but a mere empty shell without these shoes!!!

…. I think my sex change is almost complete.