Doh! :doh!:

Yep. Got in this afternoon. Christ, I'm beat. That's a seriously long drive.

Sorry we weren't able to hook up. Hopefully at the banquet.

Yeah, I thought about that but decided to keep referring to him in the masculine gender until he says how he wants to be addressed. Notice I called him a good "kid" and not a good "guy"?

That really sucks that you didn't get to meet Kevin. Did you meet anybody from here? Was it an eventful trip? Maybe worth starting a thread about it? You and Bob_Dole have a gift of making a routine deal sound exciting.

That made me do research.


Klinefelter's syndrome is found in approximately 1 of 700 men. Men usually have but one X and one Y chromosome, i.e. the chromosomeconstitution 46,XY. Men with Klinefelter's syndrome have more than one X chromosome, usually two X chromosomes, i.e. the chromosome constitution 47,XXY.

At birth the testicles of Klinefelter boys are of normal size. When the testicles grow quickly in boys with normal chromosomes at the age of 11-12 years, the testicles of Klinefelter boys stay very small, as a rule only 2 cms. from pole to pole. Usually only few sperms are developed in the testicles, and men with Klinefelter's syndrome are as a rule infertile. Boys with Klinefelter's syndrome should be treated with testosterone, usually from the 11 or 12 years of age, best with Restandol tablets (Testosteroneundecanoat), which does not affect the liver, or with injections of other testosterone preparations.

Klinefelter boys more often than other boys have delayed motor function, speech, and maturation development, which does not make them patients demanding special treatment. It is important that these boys at an early age go to a good day-care institution, and that there is a close cooperation between parents and day-care institution staff. If the speech development is delayed, it is important to get help from a speech-therapist for a period. Regarding the motor function development, the participation of parent/child in sports activities and group activities of any kind is of great value. The same is the case with regard to stimulating the delayed development in maturation. In this connection it must be mentioned, that it is also important to stimulate these boys to independence, and not in any way to overprotect them.

Regarding the missing muscle development in puberty and late puberty, with increased tiredness and need for sleep, this can to a great extent be counteracted, and usually quite eliminated, by relevant testosterone treatment from the age of 11- 12 years. For better muscle development and motor function it is of great importance to take part in different sports activities through childhood.

If Klinefelter boys grow up in a good, stable, and stimulating environment, the intelligence will be inside the normal area, though a little displaced, so that there are fewer than expected with an IQ over 110, but no increased frequency of boys with an IQ below 90. In a group of adult danish men with Klinefelter's syndrome an average IQ of 108 was found in comparison with 115 in a control group. use the online version. However, all persons with Klinefelter's Syndrome, or their parents, can order the printed version free of charge from the Turner Center.


Now we just have to wait for Psi to "size things up" for us to prove or disprove your theory.

We'd met in Chicago once before, so it wasn't as crushing as it would've been otherwise. I hope he got to throw a rock at Invesco on his way through.

Well, yeah. It's not really a theory. I've actually been doing a lot of genetic research because our son just got tested for some genetic abnormalities. Regardless, it might be worth Psi's time (if he has decent insurance) to get a genetic screening. If it's now Klinevelters (and it probably isn't) it could be something else.

I was homeschooled from 6th grade through high school, aside from the aforementioned three months I spent going to a private school in the tenth grade. I was going to be on the basketball team there (it was a small school), but I decided to quit before the season started due to reasons both related and unrelated to this. Really, though, the people there were pretty cool, and the only time I've ever had a really rough time was the sixth grade, and at times in the first grade.

I don't know if I was ever suspected, but I hated going to school because I was always scared it would be revealed. I tried my best to just sort of sleepwalk through it as best I could.

It's weird, though. People who remember me from school (usually the halcyon days of 2nd-5th grades, and I mostly hear about this in third party form, as my "network" of friends is basically just my best friend -- why he still hangs out with me is beyond me, but he really is like my brother, and he's my only connection to the world, really; I never do anything other than go to sporting events -- a few hours where I can be a part of the crowd and forget I'm a "freak" -- unless I'm going somewhere with him, and it's very rare even then, since I'll often turn him down if he asks if I want to go to the movies with a few friends or something) tend to have nice things to say about me, though I don't know what they could have really liked about the boy I portrayed back then, since all I can remember is a friendly but scared, humorless shell who got good grades (I remember being heartbroken when I finished second in the fifth grade class in grades).

Almost certainly.

Dunno. If it were as easy as snapping my fingers, definitely. But it's a long, tough process, and I'm not sure I have the self-confidence to do it. I've let myself get fat over the past few years in some sort of self-destructive "I don't care anymore" thing, but even if I can fix that (and hey, fat chicks are people, too), I've got all sorts of insecurities on top of that. I think it'll boil down to self-confidence and the kind of support and help I get when I set things in motion. Another big fear is that I won't be able to find a good therapist who can actually help me.

As for other stuff, I don't have a job (I'm only barely a college student, via online classes, because I have an irrational fear of what it'll be like to actually be on campus; that's the SAD speaking, I'm sure). I live with my mom, and when I describe myself as a "grade-A loser/slacker type person," I'm not joking.

By the way, I never posted at the Star board. I discovered the Planet a couple of months before I registered.

Didn't meet any BB members. And other than getting stuck in road construction in that pit of hell otherwise known as Denver :grr: the trip was fine. I spent a week visiting my cousin in Grand Junction. Had a great time. Visited lots of amazing places in the area, including the Colorado National Monument (series of canyons in the mountains overlooking the Grand Valley), Ouray and Arches National Park in Utah. Every place we went was beautiful. I actually saw a bear in the wild while we were at the hot springs at Ouray - apparently that's pretty rare. My cousin has lived in Colorado for over 20 years and that's the first time he ever saw one. I shot about 8 rolls of film - I'll post some of the photos when I get them developed (no pictures of the bear, unfortunately - we were in the water when we saw it).

I wonder how parents or the family physician would get tipped off to look for this syndrome since normal testosterone production doesn't increase in "normal" boys until about that age. Boys that age probably don't realize something is wrong for at least a year or so I would think. It looks like it would be really tough to get to begin treating it at age 10 or 11. Probably more likely nobody but the kid would know until about 15. When did you first realize something was wrong, Psi?

ROFL

Dunno. Could be something, but if it's what 4th posted, that's probably not it. I only glanced over it, though, because odds are, I'm just a regular XY. It's supposedly a lot easier for "normals" to accept if you claim you're an XXY, or something, but I have no proof of any genetic abnormality and I've also avoided going to the doctor since I was about 14. Another irrational fear of mine, I guess (started getting scared when I heard about "grab, turn, and cough," I think).

I know I don't help myself at all by doing stuff like that, but I just get so scared of everything that the only thing I'm able to focus on is withdrawing and keeping myself "safe." I realize how ridiculous my actions are even as I do stupid things, but I just can't help myself.

Around Thanksgiving of 2000 was when I really realized that this was serious. I'd known before, but that was when I realized that (a) this probably wasn't going away, and (b) I wasn't really alone in having this problem, at least.

Psi, This is just my thoughts, but even if you made a change 100 percent and it went very well. I would guess that you would still have the same thoughts on how people percieve you and how you thought. I mean, you can't have a mind change. Those are engrained in you the rest of your life.
So would it really change anything other then appearences?

Most likely. I'm extremely insecure. But being in the right body would, at the very least, help me feel a little more confident in myself, I would imagine.

For instance, I often get pissed off at not getting to have a real childhood, despite having loving parents and some decent friends, and nothing can change that unless there's some sort of magic pill and a time machine out there.

That's what transition is: changing the outside to become more aligned with the inside. Whether I go through that or not, I can't change who I am on the inside, and I am not male on the inside (and I'm glad about that, despite the difficulties; I used to pray to God at night to change my body, but I always included a qualifier to leave my mind the way it was). Again, it's an insanely difficult thing for anyone who's not actually had to experience this to understand, so I don't expect you to, but changing the outside wouldn't make me something I already believe myself to be any more than buying a motorcycle would make you more of a man.

Is there such a thing as dilusional ignorance? :shake:

Seriously, though... who stole Skip's WebTV?

He's going to be pissed.

Skip:

With genetic abnormalities, there are often some secondary characteristics and/or problems that eventually lead to genetic testing, and the condition then being discovered.

Here's a site of a lady's story that tells how she found out about her son's condition:
http://xxy.50megs.com/ks1.htm

A common theory is that genetic abnormalities (especially of the mosaic variety) are much, much more common than we know, but we never get tested for them because there's never really enough "symptoms" to point to a genetic problem.

This is really sad. You are a very bright kid. Are you good at basketball? A good ballhandler? A good shot? Since you said you decided not to play for reasons both related and non related, I hesitate to ask any more about it. You mentioned problems in the 1st and 6th grades but not 2nd thru 5th. Can you say what kind of problems and why you think that ceased for 2nd thru 5th? I never would have imagined you as fat. I had you pegged as a mesomorph or even maybe leaner. Maybe 6', 160 lbs. Care to say what your height and weight is? I also wonder when you first realized there was a problem. And when your best friend became aware of it. It appears he has known for awhile but still accepts you as you are. A true friend indeed. I'm sure the Planet members feel the same way. And, YOU ARE NOT A FREAK. Maybe a victim of a freak accident but it certainly isn't what you are. I can't imagine you feel you were humorless. You are the class clown here and you get away with nonsense posts that would hang Gochiefs. You don't give yourself enough credit that is for sure. Blame Phobia for saying you were on the Star board. He has said that many times. I was only on there a couple of months myself and wasn't well acquainted. I share your concern about finding a therapist to help you. Most of those are cookie cutter types that want to classify everybody in a nice, neat package. When actually, every case should be treated individually. I'm not a therapist but I am interested in your plight and would more than welcome dialogue with you on a less public forum than this. Feel free to PM or email me if you would like to talk about it. I don't think you are in as bad shape as you seem to think. I see lots of good qualities in you.

Since we're sharing....


Oh, crap. I hope I don't regret this.



(Deep breath.) Okay, this is the great thing about the Internet. You can be who you are, or you can be who you want to be, or you can be what people think you are. I guess you can also be what people think you want to be, too, regardless of whether that's what you are or want to be.

You all probably have your own mental image of me. Some of those images are probably flattering, and some of them are probably not so flattering, and that’s okay. I figure the typical view is probably that I’m extremely handsome, and that I could lift Rich Scanlon over my head until he cries if I wanted to. You probably think I have some sort of super robot brain, and that maybe I was left here as a sentry for some civilization that doesn’t even have the freaking infrastructure to get a guy a new xilanthium beacon when his old one has been broken for over four years now. Four years!

Anyway, it doesn’t matter what you think. It’s all wrong. And it’s time that I made it right.

Growing up, I always felt like I was different than the other kids. I don’t know if that’s because I was born with a small tail, but nonetheless it seemed to start early. While the other kids were toddling around playing with tea sets and GI Joes, I was out on my hands and knees, looking for bugs and eating them. I’m not saying that was right and I'm not saying that was wrong, but it was what I was interested in. Yet for some reason it was okay to make fun of me just because I was in the woods eating a beetle instead of sitting on the porch and pretending to send GI Joe into the woods to eat a beetle? Whatever. I was living life, and you were playing with a doll. And it doesn’t matter if it’s carrying a helmet and a rifle, it’s still a doll! A white, pasty, hairless human doll.

I could never relate to dolls, even when they were action figures. The little Lego people were very square, and the little Weeble people were very round, and none of them were like me. I could never put my finger on it, but there was something about them that was very foreboding to someone like me.

I stunk at shop in school. I could never figure out which tools were used for what. Everyone else seemed to just know. It was hardwired into them, and for me it was just a total mystery. For me, the only thing that was hardwired was a love of exotic places. I saw an episode of “The Courtship of Eddie’s Father” when I was about six, where the grandfather visited and wanted to take Eddie on a trip to the Amazon and the dad, while he didn’t turn into the Hulk, was upset about it and said that Eddie couldn’t go, and I couldn’t understand it. Who wouldn’t want to go to the Amazon, or Africa, or any of a million other exotic places?

I poured myself into geography, and loved looking at maps. I memorized all of the capitals, especially those that were buried in the heart of the jungle in some third-world place that was a hellhole for most people but which was innately irresistible to me. Bangui, Kinshasa, Kampala, Bujumbura. These places rolled off my tongue and I counted the days until I was old enough that I could flee the Ozarks and visit them. No one else knew what I was talking about, or cared. I loved Tarzan movies, and I always saw myself running alongside him or just hanging out in his treehouse.

That reminds me of something else. I was really hairy as a little kid. That didn’t help. We moved a lot, and I'd be trying to fit in in gym class and it’s a new school and I'm the only kid that doesn’t seem to know anybody, and the effeminate kid, Greg, is pointing out that I have more hair than the rest of the class put together. And it’s true. I was a wolf boy, or so I thought at the time.

There was a moment, an exact moment in time, when I realized that I had to know more about who I was. We had two theaters in my town, the Uptown and the Ritz, and they were both those old-time theaters where you had one enormous screen and a balcony and popcorn that they kept in the basement in a big trash can if they didn’t sell it all the night before. It was the late 1970s and someone had made a remake of King Kong, and I think Jessica Lange was in it as Fay Wray, but I could be wrong. So anyway, we’re watching this movie, me and Greg (yeah, that Greg) and Randy and Steve and Duane, and we’re eating our musty popcorn and King Kong is on top of the Empire State Building and he loves Fay Wray, so he’s holding her all carefully and trying to fight off the planes, and then he falls.

One hundred and two floors he falls. He hits the ground and he dies and the people in the audience are either laughing or saying ‘ooh’ or just eating their popcorn, and I start crying. Right there in the theater as a thirteen year-old kid, I start crying. It just wasn’t right what they did to him. He only wanted what we all want, a woman to love him and a job with the circus and a place to relax at night eating shoots and berries. Why could nobody see that? They killed him, and everyone thought it was good thing, just because he was a giant ape.

My friends made fun of me, sitting there crying in the theater, and I ran out, thanking God for the darkness. I got around to an alley and I hated myself, and I remember pounding my body with my fists, pounding, pounding, pounding, and shrieking, and I remember charging at this old homeless man who started to come toward me, and suddenly everything just felt right. I ran home and confronted my mother. I wanted to know who I really was, not some story. She stuck by her tired old claims that my blood is German and English, with a little French, and she covered her ears when I told her that wasn’t right. Things have never been quite the same for us since.

I did a lot of reading and I did a lot of soul-searching. I checked old newspaper records for circus arrivals, and I’ve researched zoo manifests, to no avail. Maybe it’s just a weird twist of the cosmos, a mixing of genes from the primordial soup, back when a little more hair and the ability to eat bamboo shoots with your feet was no different than having red hair or green eyes. Maybe there was a chance encounter that my mother has banished to the dungeons in her mind, an encounter of which I and perhaps a couple of shattered banana daiquiri glasses were the only lasting physical evidence. Who knows? Yet I know what is true.

I don’t know my story, and I don’t know my background, and I probably never will. But after peeling back the layers of society and my identity and this false mannequin that is my self-knowledge, I know now who I am, and after 42 years on this earth I’m going to tell you, and it will be the first time I’ve shared this with anyone.

I am Kevin, a resident of Denver. I am a happily married husband, a diligent homeowner, and a hard-working business owner.

And I am a lowland gorilla.

I’m sharing this because I’m proud of who I am. Will I ever go to the central African jungle and take my ‘rightful place’ with the troop? Probably not, though I can’t say that I haven’t been torn. This place of steel and brick and concrete is my world, even if a part of my heart wants to live among my own. I just hope that, after sharing this, I can continue to be a part of this community and that you won’t hate me and kill me and make an ash tray out of my hand, just because I’m not like you.

I can't even finish reading your post, and I can't really see it anymore through the tears anyways (not the completely sad kind, though, don't worry). I'll respond in detail later, and it's actually quite a relief to tell someone who "knows" me (and I think people here have gotten at least some small sense of who I am through my countless meaningless posts), but I just want you to know how much I appreciate your response, Skip. Everyone else, too, to varying degrees, but really, just... thanks.

DeeVee has nothing on me right now.

Psi I noticed you said you weren't male inside, do you mean like you have overies, womb and such? I had a aunt who had male organs in her not female, she was a big boned gal to, she of course could never have children, is that anything like you? Or did you just mean mentally you did not feel like a man on the inside, I haven't read every post on this thread so if you have already explained this, sorry for asking again.

You are a very strong person to have lived with this as a secret for so long, it must have been really hard, I am glad you finally said something even though you knew you may get some snide remarks, boy you are brave. :)

I think we've all learned something about each other in this thread.

In retrospect, my own confession was ill-timed. I hope I didn't steal any of Psicosis' thunder.

And timing is everything, as I've learned from experience...no worries though; one day your post will be looked upon as a lost classic...

Makes me wish I had a big secret to share so everyone would say nice stuff to me :deevee:

But I would start my OWN thread about it.

Rainman, should we start calling you apeman now? That was a pretty good story, it was like a rollercoaster, at first I thought you were serious, then I was laughing, then serious, then laughing. ROFL

After 4 1/2 years here, I've learned to keep certain things to myself.

Anything you say here WILL be used against you... eventually. :spank:

And the namecalling starts already. I knew I would regret this. Apeist.

Not having read more than the first page or response (very funny in many cases) let me just say if this is true it makes me even more sad that Hel'n was run off. I think she could have really been invaluable in helping.

Psi either you are a brilliant comic genius or a courageous young person. Either way you have my respect.

I know what you mean, yesterday I was reading some other threads and hadn't read this one yet and noticed people kept refering to Psi throughout the thread, I didn't understand it till I read his thread this morning.

:harumph: Nothing beats the lawnmower bowling concept. But yeah it was brilliantly funny or really brave.

If you're actually a large ape, PM me.

Holy cow! You must have had the worst first base coach in the history of baseball! That's terrible!

Well I have to ask......PSI have you ever had sex?

Well, every time a hair falls out of my head a get a new one on my back. Does that count?

I am not a large ape, but it just occured to me that I love bananas a little toooooo much, Think we could be cousins? :p

Dammit, I guess this leaves me out.:(

Probably not. I just like to eat them.

Nobody I've ever met/read/etc has the same sense of humor as Psi. They might relate to it...

Me either. He has genius of his own as do many creative people with gender identification problems . Michelangelo, Elton John and Liberace come to mind. Not to even start with writers and such.

I thought Psi wasn't serious at first...now I believe him.

Got a pic, Psi?

If it's any help, I actually went out looking for a "girl in a guy's body" to cut my hair today. I've got an important meeting with a client on Tuesday, and have been growing my hair out over the last 8 months in rebellion of turning 30. I wasn't going to let some hack chick who was forced into beauty school because she couldn't find anything else to do with her aimless life cut it... No. I wanted the gayest guy I could find who had been cutting hair for years desipte the stigma because he WANTED to cut hair for a living. And honey, I found the motherload! This guy went straight to "Hairdresser's school" straight out of high school! He actually called it "hairdresser's school!" I knew he was a keeper once he said that! He had been cutting hair for the last 30 years, and even moved to San Fransico for a few years to "try and get famous!" AWESOME!

And damn... what a haircut! Best one I've had my entire life.

OMGWTFBBQ, indeed!

Hey, since we're all telling things about ourselves, guess what? I'm, actually foreign (I think I've mentioned this before on some thread, but not with as much detail). I moved here in the summer of 1998, I was thirteen and just had finished 7th grade. I grew up in western Ukraine (which means I dislike Poles and Russians - not on a personal level, just overall), in a city of almost a million, called Lviv. My parents won a green card and both got jobs at KU Medical Center, so we upped and left.

If you thought moving to a new school was hard, imagine going to the first day of class to a COMPLETELY new environment, not understanding WTF people are saying (don't know where to go, can't really ask, having a piece of shit map showing which rooms are where wasn't that much help). Well, I did know some English, but still couldn't understand 90% of what people were saying. I still remember like it was yesterday walking into my first gym class not knowing WTF was going on. Good times.

Anyway, I was a huge sports fan back in my country (mostly soccer, obviously) so needless to say I fell in love with the Chiefs when I saw the first game in September of 1998 (KC absolutely raped Raiders, don't remember the score). Took me, probably, 1 game to figure out the basic rules, and a few more to figure out the details. By the end of the season, I started seeing the intricate things that make football such a great sport. The one thing that truly made it amazing for me (and really was a first in sports in my experience) was how a lot of the games came down to the last seconds - "****ing incredible" was what I was thinking.

So that's my story. And if you ever wondered why some sentences of mine make no sense stylistically - now you know.

Holy shit, Metrolike is Anthony Fedorov.

Wow, dude, you almost got my name right. WTF?

What?

My name is Anthony Fedo****.

That's weird. I was referring to the just-eliminated Anthony Fedorov of American Idol.

Do you like borscht, Metrolike?

fuck yeah.

Fedorov is a Russian last name, so that makes him a double douche.

Your name is Anthony Fedofuck? ROFL

ROFL

Didn't think of that when I put the stars there. That's good, hahahaha.

I don't know, but the King in the Burger King commercials just stared down Darth Vader and won. What a badass. And people made fun of me for that avatar... Darth's lip was quivering at the thought that the King was about to put a beatdown on him. Greatest commercial ever.

By the way...You've certainly lived here long enough by now to realize that the vast majority of Americans-by-birth can't speak (much less write) English for shit, right?

The King would make me wet my pants if I weren't completely paralyzed by fear when I saw him or thought of him.

Heh, that brings back a memory of my roommate asking me how to spell "sense" last year.

I poured my heart out about my hair. I hate you all!

Sorry, I'm just a little emotional right now. This is all happening so fast. One minute, I'm trying to determine if Psicosis is being serious or not, the next I feel compelled to tell my story about hunting down an older gay man.

So what was up with your first base coach anyway?

I think I sort of almost blacked out from the shock of hitting it so far, at first, so I was sort of stunned. The only home run I ever had was an inside-the-park one.

Stop looking at love from both sides now...

What are you studying in school anyway?

I just want to be accepted in Psicosis's inner circle of friends... Have you heard how damned exclusive it is! It sure beats trying to get into Keg's circle.

um... Keg's circle of friends!

My intents are purely platonic!

NTTIATWWWTFBBQ!

Wow, Taco's on drugs. This could be worse than the last KCJohnny incident.

Okay, plunging back into the depths, despite the already-pounding headache.

It's not really a big deal. I'd rate my basketball skills as "okay to bleh," and I'm not a terrible shooter, but I lose focus really easily when playing basketball, which makes my shooting get pretty pants. I can dribble between my legs, if that makes me a good ballhandler. ROFL

I was just a bit more "settled in" with these people, especially my two best friends at the time, and I was actually fairly popular despite my aforementioned lack of offering anything really notable aside from general niceness. I had sort of gotten worn out by the end of fifth grade, regardless, and the only people I've even talked to in the past, say, five years that I know from that time are my best friend and about five others, not counting the ones I went to school with in tenth grade.

If I hadn't gone the "eat whatever and don't do a damn thing because I don't care" route, I suspect I'd be fairly close to the aforementioned numbers. I may be 5'11" though, not sure. Or maybe that's just what I hope. Closer to 260 than 160 at this point.

I never knew what everybody meant
By endless, hopeless, bleak despair
Until one day when I found out
The first time I ever left my house
It saw me and followed me home
And stayed with me for my whole life
-- TMBG, "Hopeless Bleak Despair"

I don't think I totally started grasping what it really meant until I was twelve or so, and then I think I finally "woke up" once I was around 15. From there it's been sort of a waiting game.

He doesn't know, actually. He may suspect something, because I'm sure he's seen tons of signs in the large amount of time we've spent together, and I think his response when he does find out will probably be something like, "Oh. That explains a lot," but I haven't actually said anything about it to him yet.

We're pretty close despite fairly divergent interests, though, and the amount of times we "mind-meld" and one of us blurts out something only to have the other one say, "I was thinking the same thing," be it a bit of music or a word or a reference, or something, is pretty amusing, so I wouldn't at all be surprised if he had already known something was off.

Actually, I'm on deadline!

Psi, pics?

Who's gonna buy the pie?

You said you worked in PR. What do you do?

Actually, I don't really take many pictures. I really hate the way I look in photos (and the mirror), so I try to avoid them. Always have.

Wow I may have achieved immortality via a Johnson, gochiefs will be sooooo envious.

Hey Psi,

While part of me is still trying to figure out what the joke is (I have it half figured for an elaborate trap with a genius punchline, or the honest to God truth), the best compliment you'll get from me on the matter is that I'll treat you the exact same way as I did before you "came out of the closet" or whatever cliche will eventually be ascribed to this.

I guess your brave for facing the truth of your existence, but I'm of the opinion that everyone who is honest with themselves and the people around them is brave, regardless of what walk in life they're on.

As far as the confidence thing, that comes from an honest connection with who you are. A therapist or counselor of some type would be a great way to start. You've got too much going for you upstairs not to be confident about who you are.

How is your family going to react?

That's the question that's tormented me for years. People are unpredictable.

Product marketing. It's my job to get publicity for my client's products in the business, technology and consumer press. Of course, I'd never say who my clients are for fear of being American Heroed because of some stupid smack that tipped someone off... But I am an account manager responsible for creating and executing marketing plans for technology products. I'm having a career month too, having landed a huge win in the Associated Press for my client *right* before they had the quarterly sales meeting, and kicking off a new account from business that I generated. I'm Flying to Tampa Bay on Monday to present my plan to the new CEO of the new company/account that I landed... So why not surf around the Mane and the Planet instead of finishing my presentation?

Does anyone else just want to comfort Skip after this post. Who would have ever guess he was capable of being so compassionate.

I am giving him props not shit.

I can't make it past the first 3 sentences without my eyes wandering.

Since when do gorillas go bald?

Way too lazy to go back a read, what is the deal? I read far enough to see even Skip was nice, so it must be big.

I'm guessing you'd have better luck tunneling out of prison with a soup spoon than breaching Keg's inner circle. I thought I was rather well insulated, but that dude seems as closed off as it gets.

Just so everyone knows my inner circle is wide open.

Psicosis is gay... Only, with a twist. Psicosis can take a bat deep. So to speak... Not in literal terms. Or at least if it is in literal terms, he hasn't gotten to that part yet. Also, Psi is really short sighted, and either had either a really bad first base coach,or might be a little hard of hearing. It's still unclear whether he runs out the hit on contact or not.

Psi says that he knows that he's actually a she (on the inside), because he is jealous of women's bodies and wishes that he was in one. As an added twist, his bedsheets are blue on the outside and pink on the inside. What I find is interesting though is that he has never come out and said "I'm gay." He said "I'm a girl."

I think he is serious. But it's Psicosis here we're talking about, so it's hard to be sure. NTTIATWWOMGWTFBBQ

Well I guess that is cool. I am not too hip on the gay pride thing. I don't really care what somebody does in their bedroom. I have a friend who plays darts with a group of us. She is witty as hell and a alot of fun to hang out with. Long story short everyone who plays in our group are married or living with somebody, except her and, I so we often are partners. I have known her for a couple of years and only found out she is gay a few weeks ago. The point is it does not matter to me, and I respect her much more for the fact she makes it a non issue.