Let's Pretend We're At A Lesbian Potluck

It's a soupluck not a potluck!

I'm a vegan nutloaf. I'm full of enough sugar and grains to make you blow up like a hot air balloon, but I have no animal products in me.

THAT'S NOT FUNNY!!!

I'm pot. It wouldn't be much of a "pot" luck without pot, now would it?

I'm the lesbian who thought she could bring $3 worth of supermarket-bought appetizers and yet devour the main dishes and, more importantly, drink all the booze. And there are a lot of me here.

[quote] And there are a lot of me here.

And there's a lot more of you there, fat pig.

Tickle my pickle

I'm the dreamcatcher hung from the tree.

[quote] I'm the dreamcatcher hung from the tree.

Just the one, dear?

I'm the one gay man brought as a guest by a lesbian friend who insists that I will have a good time. I am actually ignored all night and am surrounded by women discussing hemp tampons and phalllocentric trends in modern architecture .

I'm the unironic earnestness.

You poor assholes really miss Mitchfest don't you?

I'm the femme who graduated from Sarah Lawrence talking about the importance of "communication" and "boundaries" while humble bragging about how "successful" my WordPress blog is.

Yes, R12. Yes we do. It was comedy gold. You couldn't make that shit up.

So THIS is lesbian humor? ?

I'm the Shame Circle that forms around the newbie to lesbian culture who brought a bucket of KFC

All the parking signs on the block have been replaced with these -

I'm Lesbian Drama. I'm waiting for a passive aggressive comment from one of the guests to unleash my full power. I will only need to wait about fifteen minutes.

[quote] So THIS is lesbian humor? ?

There's no such thing.

I am the male child confined to a screened-in porch.

I'm the DVD of "Bound" playing on the TV in the house.

I'm the empty bucket of KFC at R16 that was secretly devoured in the laundry room by one of the guests that wears a men's size XL overalls.

I'm the 78yo queens peeping in the window and posting it all on datalounge while I rub a chili dog over my ever-flaccid cock

I'm the "Rachel" haircut 3/4 of them are wearing. Rachel Maddow, not Green, of course.

I'm one half of the interracial lesbian couple who brought the homebaked vagina cupcakes in both chocolate and vanilla.

R24, I'm the Lea DeLaria haircut. I'm the remaining 1/4.

I'm everyone's favorite crazy who everyone invites just for the drama, asking for donations so I can attend Mitchfest this year.

I'm Lesbian Bed Death. It's never discussed, but forever lingers in the air.

I'm the nut loaf farts.

I'm Kate. I'm here with my partner Chris who has never met my exes Syd and Steff. They're here, too. Syd's Wombm*n's Studies professor, Jen, is here as well. She and I had a little thing around the time of the final Lilith Fair. When Building a Mystery comes on, Jen casts me a knowing glance which is intercepted by Chris. I quickly introduce the two of them only to learn that they know each other. They know each other quite well. They once managed a B&B in Ogunquit and made it to the final round of a Guatemalan-baby adoption sweepstakes. Who knew?

And now Jen's wife, Barb, has just arrived with their beautiful twins. Barb and I have been friends since we shared a freshman dorm at Sarah Lawrence. I'm not sure who here knows this, but my brother was their sperm donor. My brother's ex-wife Alex is also here with her new partner. We haven't been introduced yet but I'm sure I recognize her from somewhere.

R30 hit the nail on the head. I'm an anthropologist. I've been stuck going to those parties as the gay friend. This made me laugh.

LUG at R13!

I'm the hushed group of hen-pecked husbands & boyfriends milling about in a pen 100 yards away waiting patiently for their wives or girlfriends to get those itches scratched and then come running back into the arms of hetero privilege.

I'm the cast album of "Fun Home" playing on a 1998 boombox in the yard.

I'm the non vegan getting judged by everyone for bringing buffalo chicken dip

I'm the successful lesbian lawyer who has a hot femme wife who brags about my upcoming week long trip to Disney World. We're celebrating the adoption of our daughter, whom we named Luna Hillary.

I'm the plethora of canes seen throughout the guests.

I'm the toilet gasket in the guest bathroom, pushed beyond it's specifications by all that fibrous, vegan muck.

I'm Two Nice Girls, for when the rare and elusive Lesbian Sense of Humor rears its head.

Every woman sitting at my table has slept with each other at one time or another, and we're all aware of it.

I'm the dog groomer and walker who brought homemade vegan dog biscuits for all the four legged friends. My dog is going to be stuffed since he's the only dog here.

I'm Jessica the really slutty looking lipstick lesbian that came with my dominant bitch girlfriend that looks like a man with odd shaped breasts. I started drinking before we got here and I'm sloppy drunk and flirting with all the other women by spreading my legs in my super short mini skirt with no panties and shaved beaver. My fake tits are also on display and bend over every chance I get. To really turn them on, I make out with my girlfriend and let her out dark Rockies on my neck and feel me up without being too sly.

I'm really not even a lesbian but a slut. I've fucked pretty much every guy in town and some of their dads too so I had nowhere to go but here. Basically, I just need attention.

I'm the trans lesbian who wasn't invited. I tweet furiously about all these fat cis dykes who won't ride my girl stick. I'm conspiring ways to shut down all lesbian pot lucks for their transphobia!

I'm the vagina cape.

We're the never-ending parade of Diva Cups being rinsed out in the hostess's bathroom sink. We have no reason whatsoever to believe she's an Erno Laszlo devotee, but on the off-chance that she is, she has our sympathy.

I'm the Joanna Newsom soundtracked "Our Trip to WomAdelaide" video being broadcast by the host.

I really prefer dick but my rich girlfriend doesn't know it. While she's at the office I'm hooking up with most any man I can find. Safely of course.

I'm the slutty one of this crowd. While my wife is in the backyard with the hostesses I'm in a bathroom eating one pussy after another.

Michfest, not Mitchfest. And they don't have it any more.

I'm the Cris Williamson cd that NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT ANYMORE.

Hey, I am a phag who trolls Craigslist for str8t cock to fudge pack my sissy boy pussy. I also troll for little boy since it is trendy amongst queens.

There's a lesbian amongst us! (R51)

I'm the shame reducing shower that all of the "unfortunate" looking attendees who had no chance of ever having their pussy munched by R48 will jump straight into for hours and hours when they get home...

Bless.

I'm the butch/femme dynamic, alive and well

I'm r43, still hurt by that uncalled for scrutinization at the coffeehouse years ago.

We're three Asian teenage girls, all named Lily, who were adopted around the same time 15 years ago. We're here to babysit all the adopted Guatemalan babies named Ella. We each get 50¢ per hour.

Lesbians aren't allowed to have potlucks anymore....it's transmysognist

I'm the U-haul sitting out front. Just in case I'm needed for anyone's "second" date.

I am the Bulldagger bouncer who removes the transbian flotilla when they try to access the space. She knows one of them ruined Michfest, and that men cannot be lesbians, no matter what their porn tells them.

I'm the Anne Heche type at the party: fiercely loyal to my lesbian lover this year, but publicly dating, and later marrying, some dull male construction worker next year.

I can only handle public disapproval for so long....

[quote]A Lesbian Potluck

That's redundant

We're the dusty VHS copies of Desert Hearts and Personal Best. Maybe someone will play us this year.

We are the Team Dresch record, Personal Best, which sits, dusty, behind the Teagan and Sarah boxed set that is being played currently.

I'm the straight female neighbor who is impressed by my own liberalism and tolerance and says, "Why, this is just like The L Word!"

I'm the 15-year-old daughter who is forced by her femme mother to perform that fucking Erno Lazlo Sea Mud Soap splashing shit routine from R45. God I hate her and that cocksucker Erno Lazlo.

I'm the new mom talking about how "gifted" my 2 week old baby is.

I am the house, please someone call the police. I need to rest!!

I'm the "clean" eating dyke that freaks if your shared dish doesn't meet my impossible standards, yet will snort coke off a stripper's titty with abandon without a second thought!

I'm the massive collection of dildos in the master bedroom.

I'm the paleo princess who asks a million questions before she deigns to eat. Is the meat grass fed? Were any seed oils used in cooking? Is this dish gluten free? Are the vegetables organic? What about HFC's? Are those eggs free range?

[quote]I'm the slutty one of this crowd. While my wife is in the backyard with the hostesses I'm in a bathroom eating one pussy after another.

Honey, that never happens.

I'm the framed picture of Barbara Stanwyck wearing boxing gloves, the well-worn copy of The Gift of Fear, the Barefoot Maasai sneakers in the hallway, the mangy rescue dog on a vegan diet, and the plus one gay hiding in the kitchen.

I am the liar quoted @R71. I was a virgin until the night foreperson, Angie, bore down on me one night after cocktails at Chilis. I think it is important to brag about sleeping with lots of women, but everyone at the party knows I am lying, and lying badly. The only sexual frame of reference I have is my ex-football star brother.

I'm the framed portrait of Joan Crawford, also a lesbian saint, a still from Johnny Guitar. The hostess judges her friends and guests depending on whether they congregate in front of the Crawford or the Stanwyck poster.

I'm the giant pot used for an impromptu crab boil, wom-manned by one of the senior lesbian attendants in the backyard.

I am the giant, abstract vagina paintings, or are they flowers? An ex-girlfriend, who received an NEA grant to embroider vagina curtains for an off Broadway womyn's theatre, painted them as a solstice present. The paint isn't even dry yet.

I'm the plus one gay fighting back tears when "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?" by Paula Cole comes on the lite radio station that the outdoorsy femme settled on.

I'm The late-in-life Lesbian. Up until I was 55 I was a wealthy straight suburban housewife. Married twice and divorced twice. I have 3 grown up kids. I joined the gym "for something to do". Met Carol in spin class. Over time I cut my hair short, started eating organic food, reading female authors, and went on a trekking vacation to Laos with Carol. And when I returned I announced to the kids I was gay. There are 3 other women at this party with pretty much the same history.

It's Kate r30 again, two hours in. Isn't it funny how life can change in the blink of an eye? It turns out that I did know my brother's ex-wife's new partner after all. After the lumber mill closed and my savings were running low I was faced with the choice that weighs heavily on so many sistyrs — academia or living one's true self. Luckily, I had a dream in which Kali came to me and one of the heads on her belt whispered a riddle, "dolphin are you; eat namaste; you are dolphin; drink blessed be; sky dolphin; wind dolphin; earth dolphin; you are you."

Not long after, while selling gem tinctures at a new age fair, I looked across the room and saw a booth for Dolphin Breath training. I suddenly understood. I drove my Outback all over the Pacific Northwest holding seminars, healings, and transformations. I met Liv in Olympia. She was eighteen and wild, with a head full of self-hate and an arm full of cupcake and pie tattoos. I cradled her in a wading pool as she breathed her first Dolphin Breath. We became One at that moment. I never saw her again....until tonight.

I don't want to bore you with more details so I'll just cut to the chase: I've asked her to move in with me and she's accepted. We'll share our new Earth-path with Alex and Chris and accept their conscious discourse and blessings at brunch tomorrow.

We're the obese Lesbian couple in skin tight jeans, white tee shirts and no bras. We hate everybody and everybody hates us. We will sulk in the corner by ourselves all night. When not shoving food in our mouths, we'll be playing tonsil hockey with each other. We've been together two whole weeks and want the world to know how madly in love we are. The most we have in common is we both needs thousands and thousands of dollars in dental work.

I'm the unironic, gluten-free fish tacos.

So r69, you also attend the parties hosted by every single poster on the DL?

We are the dental caries being exchanged @ R80 and in dark corners of the paneled basement

This thread isn't as funny as I thought it would be.

R84 - Are you a lesbian? Of course you wouldn't ANYTHING funny.

I am R84, who didn't even bring a thing to the potluck, but is criticizing the quality of the food on the buffet. She is also very upset that Kate@ R30 has already partnered up, and she and said new partner are already U-hauling. She knows she will end up completely alone; she is allergic to pets.

I'm the lesbian couple who are planning a tacky rainbow themed wedding. We let everyone know it's going to be a potluck and that that it's a BYOB policy. We will also be taking donations so we can take our dream honeymoon to Nicaragua, where will volunteer, dammit.

I'm the big pile of Timberlands, Dr. Martens, and Earth shoes by the front door where the hostess instructs the guests to remove their footwear as they enter. (If this is a warm-weather potluck, replace with Crocs, Tevas, and Birkenstocks.)

I'm the flat-leaf parsley Rach bought for the tabbouleh. She doesn't know that I'm actually cilantro.

She also doesn't know that she'll never be invited to another potluck.

I'm the LICSW attendee who silently vows to help r80 navigate the stormy waters of social anxiety by modeling light conversation for them and just being present and [italic]listening[/italic] to their grunts.

I believe I'm making headway when the one with the mustard stain nudges me, points an imaginary gun at Lilly #3, then pulls the trigger. The violent gesture is greatly disturbing but I'm all about meeting people where they are.

That all comes to an end when I see the salsa they brought...

I'm the one bringing the 1000 calorie Macaroni Salad

I'm the butch dyke who wants to be a man. I think the boys like me because I drink and swear like them. Little do I know the guys laugh at me behind my back and don't really want me around.

I am the Rice Krispy Treats which were brought ironically, but the Lesbian Waldorf teachers have no sense of irony, and I am being shunned.

God, this party is SO depressing.

I am lactose intolerant and everyone knows it because I've told them, multiple times, in detail. But every time I come to one of these all the food is laden with milk products. I shouldn't have worn white jeans. I had to lie and say I sat on a bowl of butterscotch pudding. I shouldn't have said butterscotch pudding. Now no one will eat it after seeing my pants.

I'm the trans man. I know I shouldn't still be hanging around lesbians, because I'm a heterosexual guy now, but I'm having trouble getting laid in the straight world. So once again I will fuck a lesbian, then berate her for invalidating my manhood.

I'm the Facilitator of WiseWimyn Lore-and-Tradition Compliance and I'd like the sistyr who brought r93 to step before the panel and explain not only herself, but this "irony" of which she speaks.

R94 Is the judgy gay neighbor watching out his window with binoculars.

I'm the "real" one that was actually born a lesbian. I am in the severe minority here. The others talk about me privately and look at me with wonder.

Why r98? You expect a lesbian potluck to be something other than depressing?

Aren't they all?

Dear God, that thing @ R97 is frightening.

I'm not here to eat. I'm not here to socialize. I'm not here to explain, educate, or help you feel better about yourselves. I'm not here to pay a debt of gratitude for any of the despicable and exclusionary policies, institutions, and systems you're responsible for, such as...

Domestic violence shelters for cis-women

Cis-women's rape crisis centers and hotlines

Cis-women’s health clinics

Legal abortions for cis-women

Contraceptive prescriptions for single cis-women

Credit cards or loans given to cis-women without a male relative co-signing

Sexual harassment legislation meant to protect cis-women

Seeing it all written out in cold hard font, how do you feel about what you've done? Are you proud of yourselves?

No, I'm not here to celebrate you. I am a fat, queer, third-wave intersectional feminist — a REAL feminist — and I'm just here to ask one question: What have you got against shenis??

For R87's wedding, BYOB means Bring Your Own Bush. No hairless, conforming bitches allowed!

My name is Heather and I'm a doula. I make sure to remind everyone of the inherent evils of having your baby in a hospital and how giving birth in a pool of warm water is much more natural. Oh, and I'll also remind you that the placenta needs to be either planted under an Oak tree or having it freeze-dried and made into pills. Of course, there's also nothing wrong with just eating it either. Perfectly natural.

This party is so damn boring, I'm leaving, and going back to cock. You know women can switch hit, but you boys will always be queers.

[quote]I'm the Shame Circle that forms around the newbie to lesbian culture who brought a bucket of KFC

Shaming? More like jubilation. KFC always makes an appearance at any pot luck I have been to where lesbians are part of the invite. What's up with lesbians and KFC?

breast and thigh options

I am the pasta salad TABLE. Because the market has so many choices and its so cheap and easy to do, cant imagine other lazy lesbian guests would have the same idea.

I'm the dusty shelf full of never-read Rita Mae Brown books proudly displayed in the living room.

I am the gluten sensitive lesbian and I am OFFENDED by the pasta salad table. Thoughtless bitches, all of you.

I'm disabled, on benefits and working full time under the table. I'm always in pain but not enough pain to work tax free.

I'm LIVID that there are ONIONS in the nutloaf, and I'll make sure everyone knows it too!

We're the three well loved rescue cats: Lena, Misty and Django. You will get a whiff of our litter boxes when you pass the door to the basement. There will be at least one cat hair in your carrot cake.

I'm just getting to the point where I'm not embarassed to wear this!

I'm the guessing game. Each cupcake is an exact replica of one of our guests and one person is supposed to attempt to match a single cupcake to a guest. Am I the only one wondering why Dax was able to create them from memory? If Dax could do it, will any of the other guests have a problem guessing? Shouldn't the rules be that they have to guess all 35? Wouldn't that still be too easy?

Am I asking too many questions? I'm a guessing game....I guess that's why I'm like this.

I'm the Marin county lesbian but really bi and I will let you know that your food choices bother the shit out of me

Cooking with lesbians.

P.S. implicit Trump bashing included

[quote] I'm the non vegan getting judged by everyone for bringing buffalo chicken dip

Does it contain real buffalo or is it bluff-alo?

[quote] that looks like a man with odd shaped breasts

Like Henry Cavill?

I'm the Lesbian who never takes her eyes off the door just in case a man, gay or straight, thinks he's welcome and tries to enter the premises. I'll probably stab him if he does. NO FAGS OR BREEDER MALES ALLOWED.

Let's not, and say we did.

[quote] obese Lesbian

Redundant?

I'm the lesbian drama, after Kim shows-up with DeeJaye- and her and Mojo just broke-up!

I think I'm a lesbian, but I have the biggest crush on Henry Cavill.

[quote] I think I'm a lesbian, but I have the biggest crush on Henry Cavill.

Why?

Lets watch RuPaul's Drag Race season 720 because you can never get enough of gay men making ridiculous fools of them self by perpetuating stereotypes under the premise of entertainment. Can you give a lez an A-men!

I'm the bisexual who got my hair cut at the barbers', has a rainbow tattoo and fucked a man last week, asserting to a gold star who doesn't know what "Sanvers" is, that she herself is the bigger lez of the two.

I'm Sara I've brought the sugarless, raw, vegan, paleo date and coconut slice. I bring it every time we get together. It delicious and the girls hoover it up. That's because I've added 5 tablespoons of sugar and some maple syrup. Two years of this and Kerry who claims "I get physically sick if sugar even touches my skin" hasn't thrown up once. Lol.

I'm the young 20 year old "sapphic" who runs a wlw blog on tumblr. I identify as a bisexual who leans towards men but I love to refer to myself as "gay" and show up to lesbian events, because it's not politically correct for them to kick me out and I'm too lazy to start events for bisexuals. I also write Larry Stylinson fan fiction in my spare time.

Im the lesbian actress who often poses topless to teach women to love themselves. I'm thin and gorgeous so it's easy for me to do that while I encourage fatties to post nude selfies on my blog to celebrate their beauty too, knowing they'll all be compared to me, Oh and I'm also dating a man. BUT IM NOT STRAIGHT OR BI and stop saying that I am behind my back. I can hear you whispering Kristy.

I'm the lesbian who brought delicious bread that was made from the yeast from my own vagina. I am a goddess.

I'm the one with the most boundaries, And I'll be telling you NOW so I don't have to tell you THEN.

Those cupcakes at R115 remind me why I'm a gay man. And yet, straight men find these cupcakes appetizing?

We are the lesbian married couple, we are both ministers--1 Presbyterian and the other Lutheran..and since there aren't any men around we will tell you with a straight face that men, when they talk, never talk about anything interesting which undoubtedly leaves you wondering if the day jobs are just a way to pay for our beautiful 3500 square foot detached home.

Let me introduce you to Sue and Candie her wife. Don't dare flirt with Candie who know one knows much about cuz Sue has been know to literally beat the shit out of anyone Sue suspects is flirting with her. Sue will at least do it outside!

Why do people make desserts that look like genitals? So pathetically trashy.

I read R134 3 x and still don't get what thinking men are boring has to do with a Lez couple's choice of day jobs.

R117 is a perfect example of why it's so easy and amusing to mock SJWs. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

I'm one of the babies. I worry that my future is being compromised by the pants I'm forced to wear.

This is one of the funniest threads ever on DL. Fuck, I'm glad I'm not a lesbian! If I had to be in that worrld, I'd want to shoot myself.

r79- W/W. Please begin at once on the full novella, I wait with baited breath...

Does ANYONE listen to Melissa Etheridge anymore you fucking retard. Get new references asshole.

I am the lesbian who brought my son to the potluck so he wont feel left out. He seems to be having trouble making friends at school because he has two mommies. I don't believe what other people say about him looking like a baby butch dyke, he has plenty of male role models that we let her, uh him observe from time to time.

R102 = completely exhausting and humorless SJW who would never be invited to a party.

I'm Linda's FTM boyfriend. We shouldn't really be here because I'm a man and she's a straight woman, but I've got the hots for her femme friend Sharon. Also, we don't have any other friends.

I dressed especially to get Sharon excited. It was quite hard to find clothes that fit a manly wide hipped 5'3 frame and a 48" waist, but I managed it, and she's totally checking me out. Which makes sense because men and women are attracted to each other, and I'm a man. I haven't felt this good since my devout Christian parents replaced "you'd better not be a dyke" with "please God, just be a dyke".

Later on, I think I'll undo another button on my shirt so she can feast her eyes on my scar covering tattoos and seven manly chest hairs. I'll bet she's gagging for my 3" of vacuum pumped clitoral glory, which is how we men talk about these things.

I won't be able to eat her pussy though, I have too much stubble (fourteen hairs and another on the way) and unfortuantely I can't shave it because men have stubble and I'm a man. I'll have to ask the other masculine dudes at the sports bar I frequent how they manage it. I'll also ask them to stop calling me Tracey as my name's Aidan. We men are so funny with our nicknames!.

I am the lesbian who hates men though I love cock up my ass.

To the gay guy upthread..not many straight guys really like eating those cupcakes..they give to get

I'm the empowering J. Howard Miller's "We Can Do It!" print hanging in the hallway

R144 = satire-challenged Aspie

We're the nurturing, the consensus-building, and the processing of feelings. We come into play when a lightbulb needs to be changed.

I'm R146, and I've wandered in from the insane asylum near by, I shout out insane things and mumble to myself about feeling like a lady inside, while I juggle my balls inside my pants with my hand. The lesbians are nervous and can't decide whether to call the cops (there are WoC here, and we do not want them to be arrested for nutloafing while black), or the biker gang down at the trailer park. Jeanette's girlfriend Bone is a member. Ah, here they come...

I'm RED MEAT - I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here either.

I'm a Phranc CD used as a nostalgic backdrop while reminiscing about college days. I'm also Phranc, selling tupperware at this potluck.

I'm the host's dog. Do these hens EVER shut up? I have a headache from listening to them.

I'm dour.

I'm sour.

Wow the more wine they pour the more they babble nonsense

I'm the life of the party in my wacky little hat!

I'm sorry. I'll calm down now.

R130, who is it?

I'm power. An attorney specializing in going after abusers..I have a sign on my desk reading "the fuck stops here." You don't wanna go up against me in legal proceedings, I'm lean and mean. I'm half Asian and the joke is I'm ms. Fuk u sue u

I'm one of the hostesses. I'm so nervous about hosting I nearly threw up. I don't want any fights to break out in my house so I am watching the usual troublemakers and rulebreakers very closely. Thank dog for Charlene and her offer of Ativan, which is just starting to kick in. Now... a bit more blackberry brandy to smooth the edges... ready to stop any potential friction....

Damn they were all told to use disposable containers so I wouldn't be stuck washing up! the usual rulebreakers! They're not getting away with it this time! I'm in charge! This is my house!

I brought my dish in a ceramic covered casserole dish. I like to break the rules and take home the leftovers. I will lecture the host RE: disposable containers and how they harm humans and the environment. And my ex girlfriend Sue is here and will be on my side if things get ugly...she can take down anyone and everyone here.

I was asked to bring a nut free dessert...fuck that..I will not be bossed around by these rude food nazis. I brought carrot cake which isn't as good without walnuts. I don't give a crap and even put crushed nuts on top..take that

I'm the MTF butch.

I'm going with my lesbian sister as she can't go alone..I'm nervous I'm gonna have my cover blown as her lesbian friend. I feel guilty posing but am more nervous about what may happen

I'm the cak with graxy that no one eats.

Why are lesbian parties so LOUD? Two houses down from me they're having a party and the house is shaking. They are singing, chanting and screaming. These are professional women in their 40s and it sounds exactly like bunch of teenage girls.

A friend in Montreal lived above A lesbian bar and said the fights he saw outside were unreal.worse than a regular bar

I'm a Bitch & Animal CD being used as a makeshift coaster.

I'm the surprise fundraiser that triggered the potluck hosting offer by Brette and Miracle Azure Sky, whose home is being used. They just announced me, the tearfully begging plea for the girls to pitch in enough money so they can take their three Goldens (as in retrievers) to the vet tomorrow to have their anal gland tumors shaved AGAIN. And the vet, who has never experienced lesbian drama before, keeps saying he has never seen three unrelated dogs in a household all come down with the same obscure disease.

The guests pitch in all but $13.02 on the $3,705.14 total expected, infuriating Brette and M.A.S., who declare now they'll have to pay for part of the sales tax on the inoculations on the new fourth Golden they had included unannounced in the funding request. The exact dollars-and-cents amounts are included in every reference to them.

The other lesbians apologize and then hold simmering grudges (at the usual 285 degree F lesbian simmering temperature) until another of the pack trumps the outrage. Which occurs about every three weeks.

I'm the green-eyed monster that rears it's ugly head, after love at first sight appears.

You think the gyno-cupcakes are worrying?

Anal glands shaved R170? I thought they had to be squeezed.

I'm the accidentally discarded U-Haul Frequent Mover Card which entitles me to a five percent discount at Home Depot.

I'm the deaf lesbian who just moved from NYC. I worry about having an annoying deaf voice during sex.

I'm the ham and cheese curtains.

Bread Pudding. Of course.

How could this thread go so long without a mention of Bread Pudding?

I’m the decaffeinated herbal tea, which was purchased at a womyn only festival, and a 5 pound bag of trail mix.

Cooking in a kitchen is an oppressive, sexist, misogynistic task. It symbolizes a woman’s slavery and oppression in a white male society.

I’m the hors d’oeuvres, a bag of Cheetos.

I'm the head of the lesbian street gang serving as security. My Asian girlfriend is the one in charge of our tour group whenever the entire potluck makes our tri-annual pilgrimage to the island of Lesbos.

I’m the pot luck committee, which consistes of 6 lesbians. Emails from all invitees, regarding food allergies and dietary needs, and other special requests should be emailed and copied to all committee members. Input is needed regarding the day and hours of the pot luck, sensitivity and emotional issues will be explored.

The emails will be reviewed by the committee, to make sure that everyone is comfortable and satisfied. A general email with a video of the meeting will be sent to all invitees for feedback. All invitees must respond by email for their opinions and suggestions. The emails will be reviewed by the committee at the next meeting. All invitees must attend.

Another meeting will be scheduled to finalize the details. All invitees must attend and discuss their questions and concerns before a final vote is taken. The committee wants to insure that all invitees are comfortable and included. Once the voting results are announced, another meeting is scheduled to make sure that everyone is comfortable with the vote and any other outstanding issues are discussed. A “safe space” room will be established by those who are traumatized and emotionally triggered by the vote results.

Another meeting will held to discuss this matter. After everything is explored, another meeting will be conducted to discuss the day and time of the pot luck, to make sure that transportation is provided and a “safe space” area is sectioned off. Further emails are encouraged. The cardinal rule is that no one of the male gender is invited and the invitee list will be thoroughly examined. Any gender neutral names, such as “Lynn, Pat, Kelly, Sean, etc.” will be questioned. Another meeting is scheduled in case there are additional issues.

The whole process is repeated for 25 times.

The week before the scheduled pot luck, a final meeting will be held to make sure everyone is included and is comfortable before the pot luck. Additional emails are encouraged, and these will be discussed at a meeting 3 days before the pot luck. Once this is ironed out, no other emails will be needed, except for emergency requests related to dietary issues and recent divorces among the invitees.

If this occurs, another meeting will be held the night before to accommodate special seating requests and three safe space areas will be provided for the estranged couples.

I’m the one wearing a T-shirt with Barbara Stanwyck on the front. From her butch Big Valley days, of course. She was way too coy and girly during her leading lady era.

I'm the three ingredient organic date rolls.

Im the Michelle Obama should run for president conversation.

I’m the underarm BO emanating from several of the guests armpits because our natural scent is better for the environment. Man made deodorants and antiperspirants contain chemicals and additives that are hazardous to your health.

I'm the straight female friend that Pat brought. She introduces me as her straight bestie. Only I'm not straight. Pat assumed that when we first met, and I've not bothered to correct her. I'm simply picky, and rather plain-looking. Tonight someone new to the group, and rather plain, too, will ask if I'm really straight. We will go home together.