From: SLF@UGA.CC.UGA.EDU (Sammie L. Foss)
Subject: Re: Guys who don't.
Date: Mon, 25 Mar 96 14:14:06 EST
In article <firstname.lastname@example.org>
email@example.com (John Bowling) writes:
>And how many times have you gone out to straight bars in an area full of
Practically everytime I go out. I had a fabu birthday party at my
favorite redneck bar last Wed., as a matter of fact. Lots of
rednecks, lots of dykes and not a single fight, much less a murder.
I grew up in rural south GA, and everyone in my hometown has known
I am a dyke (whether I or they wanted to admit it at the time or not)
and I haven't once suffered because of it. I caught more hell and lost
more friends because my mother was fucking a friend of mine's father
and was named in her parents divorce than I *ever* have for being
a big ole homo! I lived in Galveston, Texas and hung out on a fishing
pier with rednecks of every sort. I hung out at the local bowling
alley for fucking christ's sake, and not once did anyone say anything
about me living and sleeping with the bar tender. (who also
worked at the pier) We, yes *WE* as a couple were invited to and
attended most of the parties thrown by the rednecks in question.
If some idiot *did* say something homophobic about me in the company
of the rednecks I know, they would probably beat the shit out
Is it my charm and electric personality that causes these otherwise
'bigot-rednecks' to ignore my 'queer' chararter defect or is it that
I am not ashamed of what I am and make no bones about telling anyone
who will sit still and listen to me for more than 10 minutes that I am,
in fact, a redneck dyke with a take no shit attitude and if they have
a problem with *that* they can kiss my country *ass*?
Sammie, cababble candidate in training.
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