I wouldn’t take this one down. On the other hand, I sure hope the SF strips are heading for a deconstruction or aversion of the “all single women over a certain age are pathetic, frigid, man-hating crazy cat lady losers”. Because yeah, it’s a tired old stupid lie, no matter how many insecure guys who just got dumped use it to soothe their fractured egos.
This is why, between the ages of 12 and 14, Toy Story HAUNTED me. I would look into the silently reproachful eyes of my battle-damage posable T-Rex action figure after fitfully playing with myself, and weep tears of shame.
It didn’t help that the only poster of human beings in my room featured John, Paul, George, and Ringo. Staring straight at me. I felt pretty gay.
Years later, I felt a different, yet equal, disturbance when my first girlfriend had a Salvador Dali poster right over her headboard. I still have wet dreams about elephants with really long legs.
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