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Index
Cover Page
Halftitle Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
Females
Bongi. I’m so female I’m subversive.
Bongi. Eventually the expression “female of the species” ’ll be a redundancy.
Russell. One of my more interesting points is I’m very bitter.
Bongi. You’re wrong—I’m not a watcher; I’m a woman of action.
Ginger. She has penis envy. She should see an analyst.
Bongi. Hell’o, Gorgeous.
Miss Collins. She is, without a doubt, the most garish, tasteless faggot I’ve ever run across.
Russell. You’re not too bad-looking, or, at least, you wouldn’t be if you’d put a skirt on and look like a woman.
Ginger. Everybody knows that men have much more respect for women who’re good at lapping up shit.
Russell. You don’t know what a female is, you desexed monstrosity.
Miss Collins. I face reality, and our reality is that we’re men.
Bongi. Why’re girls called chicks? After all, men have the peckers.
Bongi. Come and get it.
Bongi. I star in movies for stag parties. But I’ve got professional integrity—I only work for the top directors.
Alvin. I guess it’s just the romantic in me.
Bongi. Downright perverse.
Arthur. Fuck is in the air; it’s overpowering; it carries you away with it, sucks you right up.
Bongi. Let the guys ram each other in the ass and leave the women alone.
Ginger. Let your soul sway gently in the void.
Arthur. I am terrible, aren’t I?
Acknowledgements
Notes
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