Premise: Stan makes a very confusing explanation as to why he is straight for his best friend.
I'm just being incredibly silly here. I just wrote this last night at 2 AM when I was asposed to be writing about the hidden meanings of Benito Cereno - Herman Melville, I HATE you - so don't expect Stan to be in character or anything. I don't blame you if you don't bother reading this whole thing, but if you actually do, meet me at the bottom of the page. We can share a pizza or something.
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Hey. My name is Stan Marsh, and I'm straight for my best friend.
What, does that sound impossible to you? That a boy can't find himself attracted to - let me make this perfectly clear - all of the GIRL parts, all of which are very feminine and the sort of thing a heterosexual male such as myself would find appealing, that constitute the majority, or at least a very large part, of a friend of his, who just happens to be a boy. As well. The GIRL parts, dude.
I'm not the only one laying the claim that Kyle Broflovski is, for the large part, a total girl. It's a common societal view where I live. I mean... what would you say about the fact that Ms. Koh, when she had our Lit class do a Hamlet scene, had Kyle play Ophelia? The histrionic, submissive chick Hamlet knocked up? Yeah, Koh was casting by "Shakespearean standards", meaning all of the actors in our class were male and the girls only had to sit and point and laugh, but my point still stands. I was Hamlet, by the way. So of course, standing up there, I had to notice the way the flowers he was throwing really matched the color of his hair, and it looked nice, and feminine, along with the way his dress fitted his form perfectly, which was also very nice, and also very feminine. And, what, you're going to tell me those thoughts weren't very masculine? Masculine plus feminine. Black plus white. Two plus... two. Totally normal.
And yeah, I still might've thought he looked kinda nice when, later, he was dressed in Horatio's clothes. See, there's only five dudes in our Lit class, so we had repeat actors. But come on. The guys wore tights back then. Fucking girl clothes, basically. And Kyle has nice legs. Like a girl's.
Even if he's not wearing a dress all the time, so what? A guy can't be a girl these days without parading around like Pippi Fucking Longstocking in frilly undergarments and a frock? It is 2010, people. Society has advanced. There are monkeys that glow under UV light, or something. I think I read that in a science magazine. But... fuck's sake. Does Wendy wear a dress?!
Well, yeah, she wears a skirt, most of the time. Yes. But I don't understand why! For a loudmouth feminist she doesn't take much effort evading female stereotypes. I tried to tell her, this one time, that she might consider wearing jeans, you know, or cutting her hair shorter. So that she looks the part, you know? Fuck if that wasn't the stupidest thing I've ever said to her. Certainly the most painful thing. I can still feel the pink, manicured nail that accidentally jabbed my eye when she slapped me. Pfft... manicured nails. And she says she's progressive.
So what with Kyle being such a girl, and Wendy being too damn much of a girl, the stubborn... girl, hot, hot girl, it follows that I'd start to fantasize about... um, well, Kyle, technically, but it's like I've established: he's a girl. I swear he is! Have you seen him? Heard him? Had him fake a swoon and cling to your arm after you offer to buy him an ice cream and say "Oh, Stan, you know you really oughtn't to pamper me like this," before you and he share a masculine laugh to silently confer your joint manliness and revel in the wonderful security you have about your own sexualities that allow you to joke about this sort of thing with each other? Anyway. The fantasies.
I guess that was the wrong word to use, since, after all, I don't fantasize: I watch porn. I'm not some girl lying in bed with her legs spread, fingering herself while she thinks about men and women chastely kissing and sharing their feelings, or something. You know, I guess my appreciation for Kyle grows out of my redhead fetish, and my smart-girl fetish, and my girls-with-hats fetish. It helps if the hats are green. Like in that one Redtube video Kenny linked me in an email. That was an awesome find. I picture that one a lot, in my head, when I'm falling asleep, or bored in class, and looking at Kyle playing with his pencil. The girl does that at the beginning of the video; it's almost hilarious, how he has no idea what an absolute girl he is being, idly rolling his pencil across the table. It's so bad that I actually sometimes picture HIM as the chick in the video. But only in a really superficial way. Like, she has his hair, and face, and voice, and she keeps her shirt on, so I know in the back of my head that there are boobs there, as I'm nailing her ass.
So, okay, maybe I wouldn't mind the parts underneath the shirt not being... too... stereotypically feminine. But come on. This is that clothes issue all over again. I mean, it's not like Wendy's exactly gifted in the boob department. She's almost entirely flat! It's basically a boy's chest! By which I mean it's very much like a girl's chest. Which it is. It's Wendy's chest. Not that I've seen it. Yet. I mean, I plan to, since she is, after all, my girlfriend, and the seeing of chests is one of those activities we boyfriend and girlfriend pairs do, after a certain amount of dating time. And I'm sure that it will happen soon. Because we are that. You know, um. A pair. Like breasts. I like breasts.
Now let's approach the topic of Kyle's ass. Dude. You have no fucking idea what I'm talking about when I say it's hot. Hell, even Kenny's with me on this one. Kenny, Mc-King-Of-Heterosexuality-Cormick. Mc-Who-Just-Did-That-One-Weird-Thing-With-Howard-Stern-For-Money-And-That's-All. Cormick. Mc-Who-Might've-Passionately-Made-Out-With-Butters-That-One-Time-But... -But-It- --- fuck, I got derailed. Um.
So I'm sitting across from him at lunch, while we are sharing our manly fries, and Kyle and Bebe are over by the lunch line chatting about something. And when Kyle leans over to grab a tray, Kenny nudges me and says, "Dude, look at that" - as if I wasn't already, pfssh - "that right there is the biggest threat in the world to me-and-Bebe as an item. She talks about Kyle's ass like it's her god or something." Then he laughs and leans back: "Hell, I can't really blame her - I think I'd rather be pounding that than hers, though it's admittedly tight competition. Haha, tight, get it?" And then he does something stupid with his fingers, and then I ignore him. So Kenny gets it. Kenny empathizes.
I just don't understand why all of my friends don't see eye to eye with me on this. "Denial". "Denial", Clyde called it, in that overly deadpan way he does. What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Clyde? I'm not in denial over anything. I am utterly, totally accepting of the fact that I am attracted to girls, and that Kyle fits mostly in this category, so yeah.
And so I leave it to you, my anonymous reader. This is as concise an argument I can make. If liking, technically, a boy, taking a totally cold and logical Dr. Spock-style perspective on the situation, makes me a fag, then I'm a fag. Technically. But what good is "technically"? Tomatoes are technically fruit. I am technically, um. Fruit? Yeah, that works. But that doesn't change the fact that we're both vegetables. Or the tomatoes are, anyway.
It's just common sense.
Oh and Cartman? I was wearing his mittens Friday because HE was wearing MINE, because we switched. And I kept them on because my hands were cold as fuck. So fuck off. You have no idea what you're talking about.
Ugh. People.
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Hey! Sup, reader? I ate all the pizza, sorry. I'm an asshole. But I left you some crusts. /Shelley
Review if you want, but I'm scared of people, and their judging, grudging opinions, so I won't check for reviews or anything. GOOD LUCK ON YOUR FINALS, PEOPLE! If you have any! If you don't, I wish death on your families, and a blight on your crops.
Peace out.
-Nats