I didn't always see being born gay as a blessing, not like I do now. I love my gay life and wouldn't trade it for anything. But in an ironic twist of fate, God also gifted my lonely X chromosome with red-green color-blindness. I've always considered this a cruel double-whammy, since my color-blindness cancels out some of the culturally stereotypical "benefits" of homosexuality (e.g., fashion sense and interior design skills) while doing nothing to abate any of the culturally stereotypical disadvantages (e.g., lisping and throwing like a girl).
In other words, asking me to differentiate "mauve" from "magenta" will elicit the same blank stare as asking me to explain how "earned run average" differs from "runs batted in". See what I mean? Thank goodness my unbridled promiscuity is intact.
Long story short: shopping for my own clothes would end in disaster without help. Lots of patient help.
|One of the cool speckled tee-shirts JB picked out for me.|