Just To Clarify: I’m Male.

I'm like a super huge fan of this.

It appears some of you think I’m female.

I’m not sure why.

My posts have distinct manly undertones.  I cleverly craft items heavy in testosterone.  I limit my “totally”s to just a few.  But still.

You think I own ovaries.

A fantastical Internet radio show mentioned my site recently.  I listened.  Creepily, I listened.  I heard the part where the young broadcaster described me as “he or she”.

That’s where I shattered.

I even wrote a post about my girlfriend. Even though she was imaginary, it still strongly signals that I’m a male.  You know what happened after I posted that?

Someone emailed me thanking me for being a proud lesbian.

Here’s an electronic mailing from a reader.  Try to figure it out because I have no idea what the fuck it means.

from —- to “admin@tremendousnews.com” <admin@tremendousnews.com> date Mon, May 18, 2009 at 6:17 PM subject Miss you… signed-by gmail.com

Salon:  a 17th century French idea, a gathering of stimulating and attractive people of quality under the roof of an inspiring hostess, partly to amuse one another and partly to refine their taste and increase their knowledge through conversation and readings.

Really?  Because I’d be scared if I wasn’t just as creepy.  What’s startling is that this individual is male.

A male misses me.

From now on, I am going to crowbar in male references at inappropriate moments.  I’ll post “10 Dating Tips For Females, Written By My Penis.”

I will discuss politics, from the viewpoint of my vas deferens.

I will comment on life issues, and how I love hot chicks and their super wicked uteruses.

I’m male, damn it.

Male.

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