Loving on Ice

Description 1

I'm a man. No, I'm a woman, but you know what? I am going to try to write as a white, heterosexual human being with a little something in my pants with a pen... made for those without that little something. Well, they have that something, but they have it on their... upper body area. At least, I do. Bic is the best pen company ever. In short, I am going to write as the most masculine and manly man you have ever seen, or, in this case, read about, all the while being a coloured and feminine female. Ouch. Hurt my own feelings. I wish I was a white, masculine, heterosexual manly man with that short, stumpy thing in my pants.

"Hey, mate," I nodded to George, who hi-fived me from six feet away. Feet. Or metres? I wouldn't know, I'm very uneducated... or should I say illiterate? A female like me would never know.

"Yo, dog," George greeted me heartily, addressing me as the only other thing they whistle to other than women. Pft, women. "You still got that thing?"

"Yeah I do," I told him proudly. "You mean the one in my pants, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Sorry, couldn't really remember if you had one or not."

"It's okay, dude," I hi-fived him again, because that's all we men do, besides playing football and women. "You doing anything today?"

"Nah, buddy. I'm just chillin' the whole day. Fuck my classes, man. I'm going to be privileged enough to be accepted for any job I apply for anyway. Besides, dad's secured me a future job at McDonald's, so it's all cool, man. Don't need no A's on my report card."

I nodded knowingly. I would've called him a girl if he'd cared about anything but football and chillin' anyway.

"Alright, gotta get back to my side bitch Barbara," I told him. I heterosexually squeezed George's square ass. "No homo," I yelled back at him and waved, running to where the cheerleader squad were hanging out.