"Diary Of Elina Frank"

There comes a time in a woman's life when she takes a step that truly opens her eyes. A coming of age event if I may... going to a gay club.

Now my first experience had somewhat unusual circumstances. In fact it was my best friend Cheeha's "straight" guy friend (Albert) that dragged me, her, and his unsuspecting homophobic guy friend (Vlad) to the club. Me and Albert have had a rather rocky relationship to this point. He would constantly set himself up to be insulted and well I just never have the self control to let an opportunity like that to slip by me. Like I say when life gives you lemons, throw them at Albert and see if it'll make him cry.

Many a times he admitted to wanting to cut himself with a razor after spending the evening with me, I felt bad that he was considering doing this and gladly FED EXed him an exacto knife as it would be a more convenient object to complete the task at hand. At least he can never say that I don't have his best interests in mind.

As I climbed into his obnoxiously red car I realized that there was no turning back. I had a bad feeling about this whole evening and was pretty sure that I just had to commit because there was just a very slim chance that I would survive lunging myself out of his car on the highway. Although when he turned his music on the thought ran through my head at least a few dozen times. Trying to block this horrid sound out of my head and ignoring the bleeding of my ears was about as impossible as witnessing a murder of a family member and not doing anything about it.

Every song was mixed so that one of the lines would just repeat over and over again throughout the whole fucking thing. Perhaps one of the saddest excuses for Djing or whatever they call it. Fergie's Fergalicious was now blasting through the car. And as if this was not bad enough the line this cocksucking dj chose to repeat was "Fergalicious def, fergalicious def def def def def def def..." and so on for the next ten minutes. As no one else but Cheeha really seemed to notice this raping of my ear drums, on about the 890th time Fergie belted "def" I had an attack of terets and exclaimed,

"ITS FUCKING DEFINITION! FUCKING SAY DEFINITION AND FINISH THE FUCKING SONG!"

Surprised by my violent outburst and unaware that I held this resentment toward his favorite CD, Albert slightly urinated himself and promptly switched off the music.

As the conversation in the car continued to bore me and insulting Albert lost its appeal about a good 7 minutes ago, I had to find other things to do to get my mind of suicide. While being a passenger in a car I have a favorite pastime which annoys everyone in the car but entertains me to no end. No its not passing gas. What I do is at a street light, pick the car next to us and fuck with the guy/guys in the next car until it is time to move. I'll wink, lick my lips, blow kisses, and basically do everything short of climbing out of my car and into theirs then continuing to give them road head. As amazingly fun as I find it, this happens to mortify Cheeha, and she on many occasions has threatened to tint the one window in her car that I sit next to. I hope that she understands the image of her driving around in a car with only one really tinted window only spurs me on.

So as desperate times call for desperate measures and I find myself going to town on the cute Latino guy in the car next to ours.. Much to my surprise, as we took off on the green light he quickly switched lanes and followed us. This was still rather exciting for me but sent Vlad into a serious hissy fit. He started freaking out about this guy following us all the way downtown and later cutting us and eating our first born, something along those lines I wasn't really understanding him nag, I don't speak the pussy bitch language.

As the guy pulls into the gas station behind us I take satisfaction in the fact that I was at least able to provide some entertainment in this car that didn't include a Fergie like retarded stuttering which Albert lovingly refers to as 'music'.

By the time we are approaching the city he switches on the CD again and continues to inform me that this is the very same DJ we will be listening to at this gay club. This was perhaps the worst piece of information I received since earlier that night when I found that i was out of batteries for my vibrator. Upon hearing this news and knowing I won't even have my trusty toy to come home to I reached for the car handle and seriously considered throwing myself out, I would just have to take my chances. However as I looked over at Cheeha I knew that she would never forgive me for what I was about to do ...leave her alone with these two jackasses (gay and gayer) for the rest of the night.

Ugh I realized I would need a drink or 5 just to power through, perhaps a bloody Mary since I have been slacking on my vegetable intake lately.

As we pulled up to the club which was called either Air Command, or maybe it was Dick Command, or Air Dick...not really positive on the name because the tranny hooker distracted me considerably on the way in.

I thought about ditching the three and just paying her to talk for a while. I wanted to know everything about this woman man. How does she feel being a hooker? Is he gay? How often does she cry herself to sleep? Does he feel morally corrupt? Does she have to tape her ball sack to the side of her leg to pull off that mini? You know real 20/20 type shit. Just as I was on the brink of journalistic history, I was pulled into the club and upon entering this establishment my career as the next Barbra Walters shattered as quickly as Albert's love of pussy. Yes all of the sudden he turned gay.

At this point Vlad realized that he was in fact coaxed into attending a more toned down version of the gay pride parade, and self-consciously covered his asshole as he made his way to the bar. After realizing the shirt that I was wearing, which nicely showcased my tites, was a complete and utter waste I quickly settled at the bar myself and ordered a long island that was big enough to intoxicate a family of elephants.

As I sipped on it i quickly began to see that Vlad and Cheeha were hitting it off, or rather he was content with having his head 4 inches away from her boobs at all times. And I guess since he was the only guy there not repulsed by her tities she was enjoying the attention as well. So here I was mostly by myself at a gay bar, with the only saving grace being that I had a perfect birds eye view of Albert roaming to an empty table with his drink to sit all by himself. This was for really no other reason than to get hit on by a gay guy. Mental note to self: buy Albert a rainbow bumper sticker and matching speedo if I make it through this night without flinging myself off the roof top. Twenty minutes later of zero entertainment because even while sitting alone no self-respecting gay guy wanted anything to do with Albert's cock, I decided to see the roof top and check out if the drop would in fact kill me or just leave me alive and fucked up.

I always felt bad for people that survived suicide attempts only to continue living life in worse condition that they were in before. I mean smart and decisive suicidals make a flawless plan and get the job done. Nothing worse than a lazy and unorganized suicidal person if u ask me. They should take a few pointers from squirrels. Once a squirrel decides to end it's life, it makes sure to jump under a car no matter how much it tries to swerve out of the way. Now that's commitment.

Anyway as I went to asses the rooftop situation, Albert, obviously sick of rejection, decided to come outside with me and have a cigarette. As I stood there unamused at this whole night and just overwhelmed with enough material to make fun of him for the next 34 years, my night suddenly took a positive spin. A clearly wasted gay guy approached Albert,

"Heyyyy there! How are ya?" he asked while gently stroking his left shoulder.

Before I even had the chance to fully enjoy this glorious moment, Albert jumped on top of me like a horny Doberman and exclaimed,

" This is my girlfriend!"

While letting this insult pass considering the situation, I quickly weighed my options. I could deny having anything to do with him and watch the gay guy that I already lovingly named Sunshine devour Albert like a fat girl devouring the entire left side of the Mc Donald's drive through menu or help him out. Finally I realized that his red gay-mobile was the only way I could possibly head home that night, so I let out an unenthusiastic grunt,

"Uhh yeahh thats me."

The look in Sunshine's eyes could only rival that of a six year olds that just found out that Santa is no more powerful than the fat ass at the mall that poses as him. The disappointment quickly turned to irritation as he swiftly pushed my new boyfriend out of the way

"FUCKING HETERO! FUCKING HETERO!!" he screamed at least another 3 times as Albert tried to approach us.

After getting him at a safe 3 foot distance away from us Sunshine was standing a tad but too close for comfort and began his questioning.

" Sweetie, Sweetheart, Baby, tell me the truth...have you ever played with his ass?"

As I burst into hysterical laughter I didn't know what was more disturbing the thought of ever coming within 2 feet of Albert's ass to begin with, or- then actually continuing to fondle it. While trying my very hardest to hold down the stir fry I had for dinner, I squeezed out,

"No actually I never have."

While batting away my "boyfriend" and continuing to yell at him with the vigor I reserve only for particularly obnoxious homeless people, Sunshine let out another 10 "FUCKING HETERO!" outbursts.

After exhausting himself, he used the moment to inquire as to why I wouldn't jump at the opportunity to experiment with Albert's asshole. Since telling Sunshine that I would sooner mount an 80 year old than experiment with Albert's anus, would blow our cover, I quickly answered

"I just never felt the need to."

I was hoping my short answers would get us off this subject and on to something more interesting like spandex, and Cher, both things I'd much rather discuss with my new gay friend. Much to my dismay, turns out I ran into the gay Socrates of our time, and he continued on with his mind blowing theory. Much like every word that came out of his mouth...he started out with repeating"Physiologically" at least 37 times.

This gave me an unpleasant flashback to just an hour ago or so in the gay-mobile when "fergalicious def" rang through my ears non stop and i soon became nauseous and snapped at Sunshine

"Yeah I get it physiologically, spit it out already!"

As if the broken record has been instantly fixed, he continues,

"Well physiologically what feels good for me as a man should feel good for another man too."

Pure genius Sunshine, pure genius! How can I even argue with that? I mean this is groundbreaking, does this mean all men secretly like anal play? God I hope not. But as Albert was allowed to enter back into our conversation, I left Sunshine with the promise that I would go home that night and give my boyfriend's asshole more action than the night he overdid it at Taco Bell.

While leaving the club, I was still feeling a bit unattractive, since I obviously never got hit on that night, and almost fell in love with the first homeless crackhead that whistled at me. I briefly had fantasies of moving in with him, decorating our cardboard house with Ikea furniture, and having tiny little crack babies. But as Cheeha pulled me away from my future I was pushed back into the red gay mobile with my new boyfriend who continued to torture me with the sounds of DJ Shittypants on our way home.

When I got home, seeing as my vibrator was temporarily out of order, I had much to ponder. Where was that trannie now? Will i ever see it again? Do i really have to play with Albert's ass? Could I do that without vomiting in my mouth? Can I take the credit for making terrorists crack by suggesting to get Dj Shittypants to play the Fergie song at Guantanamo Bay?

And as i dosed off to sleep i knew that my gay club experience would not end there and I was right. Months later I went to this great club where I saw penis upon penis... together... holding hands. And i was the token lipstick lesbian. Yes the place was called Woody's and it was fabulous.!!!! Better yet, on the way out of the club I saw a trannie! I like to believe it was the same one I had seen almost a year ago. And as she bent over in her tootoo, I saw her/his ball sack and knew that this was God's way of answering my burning question..no she does not tape her balls down to her leg. Barbabra Walters watch out, your job is mine bitch!