Monday, April 24, 2006

helga...

Wouldn't it be a joke if I actually gave into the pressure? After all, with a face that not even Camilla Parker Bowles would envy, I'd hardly say that she was the catch of the day. Unless of course, it was the season for ugly fish.

"Well, ugly bait, ugly fish."

"Hey!"

"Well, dahling, if you must know, you're not exactly the hottest property on the market. Heck I don't think even Trump could sell you."

"Look who's talking, Mr-I'm-so-pathetic-I-can't-get-a-cock-up-my-ass."

"Ouch, dahling. That hurt."

"Hmmph."

"Well, dahling, for being lesbian and all, you sure have a pretty high requirement from girls, no? And I thought you lesbian types were only in it for the company."

I just sat there, rolling my eyes, swirling my martini with the half nibbled olive. Juan was great company, being the hot gay Latino he was. He was everything a stereotypical gay man should be; great fashion sense, good cook, posh inner city apartment, flawless complexion, thrown in was the free limp wrist. Of course, not all the gay guys I knew were like that, but if there was a stereotypical standard to be followed, he was it.

That said, he still couldn't get laid no matter how he tried. Maybe he was too pretty. Very much unlike this Helga Fuglisdotter. If my dog had her face, I'd shave his little butt and make him walk backwards.

"Oh come on, dahling. She isn't THAT bad looking. After all, compared to your LAST girlfriend, I'd say she was quite okay."

"Juan, Dana had brains too. And knew the definition of too much make up."

"Hmm, and she DID do a fantastic rabbit pot pie."

"Hmm, yes, and... hey! Let's FOCUS here!"

"Focus on what, dahling? If this Helga is too much trouble, just dump her?"

"How the fucking hell am I supposed to do that? She's like a fucking leech!"

"Well, at least she doesn't spread diseases."

"Dammit Juan, I'd take diseases over that dungheap of a face any day!"

"My, my, dahling. Aren't we overreacting a bit?"

"Reaccionar exageradamente nada! Ella es tan fea como el trasero de un zambo y tan listo como una piedra!"

"Oh? I had no idea that you habló español, dahling."

"Uh, I don't."

"Anyway, there's that cute bartender again! I'm going to get me more drinks."

"Juan! Juan, where do you think you're going?! Juan, come back here! Juan!"

If there's one thing about that Juan being gay, is that he's terribly unreliable when surrounded by cute men. Hell, that's one thing about guys being male. They're terribly unreliable. Good thing I need nothing to do with them. Well, maybe to reach the top shelf. Because I'm short. But that Helga is tall enough, and...

Wait. No, no, no, no, no! Nothing to do with Helga either. I tell you, she's SO ugly that you can't tell if she's a woman or not! How is a girl supposed to have any emotional bonding when she can't stand to look at her partner's face? I should take a vow of celibacy and become a nun. Except Catholics don't like lesbians. Much.

All that talk about lesbians being feminists is only partially correct. Sure, we don't need guys and all, but doesn't mean we don't appreciate the wonders that a pushup bra and a little makeup can do. After all, we ARE people, and we do like a little eye candy once in awhile. And how arousing is it to have Androjane sucking on your tits with that buck teeth grin? It's girls like her that almost make me wish I was straight. Almost.

"Allo, Wiener!"

Oh God. Talk of the Devil.

"For the last time, Helga, it's Winona. W-i-n-o-n-a. Not weiner. Weiners are those things you have at barbecues. Or those things little boys have between their legs."

"Yah, yah. I remember that now. You be Wiernerna, and little boys have wieners.'

"No, it's... argh! Forget it. What do you want, Helga."

"Well, Helga all be by herself tonight, yah. And so Helga is bored, so Helga thought she goes to find Wiernerna."

"Sigh, I'm not in the mood now. Why don't you go find some straight boys who will like pay attention to you. Unlike SOME gay boys..."

"If Wiernerna stays, Helga buy her drinks."

Now, who am I to pass up free drinks? Of course, dim as she may sound, I should credit Helga with at least being bright enough to want to have some hot lesbian action with cute little me. Of course, given that she's trying to date rape me, she would at least try to pop in the drugs when I'm not blatantly staring at her do it, nor confuse her drinks with me. Or understand that the point is to knock the rapee out. Not some aphrodisiac.

"Ergh. Helga be very horny now. Helga want sex!"

"Err, Juan..."

"Less talk, Wiernerna, we go!"

With that, the hulking mass that is Helga picked me up and slung me over her shoulder. As she walked out of the bar, she crashed into the tables that were between us and the exit, not masking in the least the raging pile of horniness that was this Nordic monstrosity.

Sigh. She'd at least better be a good cunt muncher.