Greg
Today while waiting for Chinese food, I took a peek at their TV (they gave me a new Monday Fighter!). One of those daytime talk shows was on. Some hack named Greg was hosting a show called “Greg”. On stage, a man who looks like he’s trying to break Manuel Uribe’s record was the focus of attention, giving one of those weird confessions.
They showed a picture of the rotund guest in a green shimmering dress, like that’s going to get people to want to watch the show. The guest then explained he was transgender, which means that he’s a female living in a male body. Except he’s attracted to females. So he was considering a surgery to make him female and live as a lesbian. And he’s hoping his girlfriend will be OK with this (”I just want her to say she loves me.”)
Unfortunately, she didn’t yell or scream, or try to beat the crap out of him. At least not while I was there. (Another knock against the show; if there’s none of that, why bother watching?)
If you ever hear the words “Honey, there’s something very important I have to tell you, but we have wait until we’re on the Jerry Springer show,” that’s a red flag that not everything’s right in your relationship. You can probably go ahead and ask, “So are you gay, transgender, or both?” Then spare yourself national embarrassment by duking it out in the privacy of your own home.
Unless, of course, you’d rather have the free plane ride and $150.
