S is a lesbian. And so am I.

You probably figured it out by now. But in case you need some background, you don’t know how you ended up on this blog but you’re slightly intrigued, you seriously haven’t left your house in 10 years, or you you’re just plain curious:

S is a lesbian you could spot a mile away. She’s not the softball playing, buzz cut type, but she looks damn good in a button down and doc martens. Not to mention those trendy glasses and that super stylish haircut.

This would be a great place to insert a picture. S is hot and who wouldn’t want to take a look. But for now, I’m going to leave her swanky visage to your imagination. Maybe I’ll change my mind later.

Me, I could go either way. Well, *I* couldn’t go either way (or haven’t yet), but your gaydar has to be pretty refined to pick me out of the crowd. Unless you happen to catch me on a slouchy-baggy-boy-pants day. S thinks I’m sporty/trendy. But I think that’s just because she was raised in Mississippi and doesn’t know any better.