The Supreme Court ruling on sodomy made me very happy. When I heard the news I wanted to commit sodomy right away, and regretted not having anyone around to commit it with. Very long-time readers of The Pain minicomics may reconize the two figures on the left in panel 2 as "a filthy little man" (the one who says, "How I luvs jigglin' dem monster juggs!") and the Man Who Kisses Things, both of whom first appeared in the very first issue of The Pain, back in 1994. My friend Jenny Boylan, formerly Jim Boylan, was visiting this week as I was drawing this cartoon, and pestered me to put her in the sodomy panel. "Well," I asked, "Who do you want to be sodomized by?" At first she insisted that it had to be Colonel Sanders or no one, but I felt the inclusion of a celebrity other than Strom Thurmond would confuse the issue, and eventually she agreed to offer herself up to my friend Boyd. "That'd be just my luck," she grumbled. "I got a brand new vagina I never even used yet, and I end up getting butt-fucked."
This is not strictly relevant but I wanted to share with my readers an odd thing that happened while I was out with my friend Jenny this week. We'd had a big mess of crabs at my local bar/restaurant, and we were just about through our second pitcher and ready to leave when a couple at another table offered us their leftover crabs. These people--I'll call them Wolfgang and Tinky--proved to be a sailor on leave and Cal Ripken's neice, respectively, and were shitfaced on Jagermeister. What with one thing and another they ended up at our table and bought us another pitcher. Jenny and I gave them an accurate but incomplete account of our history as friends. They couldn't believe that we'd been friends for like fifteen years but had never slept together. Tinky sat on my Jenny's lap and made Jenny put her arm around her. She kept whispering "It's so fun to fuck with their [men's] minds," into Jenny's ear, who was like, you have no idea. Wolfgang, for his part, disinctly said something about "swinging," and looked at my friend Jeny's ass and said, in a not unfriendly way, "Yeah, if you lived around here I'd like to make you my bitch." What, exactly, did this mean? We did not know. Wolfgang was cluelessly amazed by how tall Jenny was, making her stand back-to-back wth him, comparing their heights, and by how large her feet were. Jenny nervously began to suspect that she was being "read" as transgendered and that the evening would conclude with our disembodied heads placed on the sharpened ends of sticks. I think that Wolf was drunk enough that if he had suspected any such thing he would've just blurted it out. I was more deeply concerned about getting sucked into some sordid sexual situation with these people. Jenny learned from Tinky that although she and Wolfgang had spent the previous night together Wolfgang had only "held her," which had so impressed her, Tinky, with Wolfgang's sensitivity that she now planned to "fuck his brains out" but which convinced Jenny and me that he was actually gay. So possibly it was not Tinky or even Jenny but rather me who was his true object of desire. As Jenny later parsed it, the big loser in such a foursome would clearly have been me, who would have been faced with the choice, in descending order of desirability, of having sex with 1.) a skanky girl 2.) a transsexual or 3.) a sailor. Happily none of these choices were forced on me. In the end, as always, we both felt grateful to escape with our lives.