Cooking Butch-Story of a Knocked Up Lesbian Back
by Mindy Stokes
We're in Florida! We're here for a week visiting our lesbian clan or gaggle, as Jane might call us.
Amy, one of our best friends, and Soleil's Goddess Mamma, picked us up in her red SUV. During our last visit, Amy let me borrow it. Hours before I was set to leave the house, Amy kept asking me if she needed to back it out of the garage for me. I asked her if she thought because I wear SPF chap stick with a pink tint to it, that I couldn't possibly drive in reverse. I told she was sexist and that Jeni and I would have a detailed conversation about it later, and get back to her.
We've been here for about 20 minutes and everything seems the same: Bono, Amy's dog is grunting/whining, it's sunny and warm, and Amy has modern/abstract art on the walls. But one thing is different: I found a cook book in her kitchen.
What the hell is she doing with this type of book? Upon inspection, I ascertained there are four types of recipes: three, four, five and six ingredient masterpieces.
I guarantee you this book is out of place. The only type of cook book that will have any chance of being utilized in this butch household is a one-ingredient recipe book. I'm telling you readers, just like I've done before: Amy needs a woman to love and cook for her or she's at risk of developing scurvy.
