Wooooooo-weee. Let's just say the response to this week's strip has been...overwhelming. In a typical week I get, like, I don't know, one or two reader comments, but since I posted this, my inbox runneth over and I feel like I should respond to some of your objections.

A few points:

Fictional character, fictional rant. Sure, Jessi's a bit bi-phobic. She had her heart broken bad one time by a bi girl. (Funny story, I'll post it sometime.) I create a lot of characters, and while there's a little of me in each one of them, I don't use them solely as mouthpieces for my personal views. Cause that's boring.

I firmly believe that to be funny, you have to offend some people some of the time. To be sensitive to everyone all the time is to be funny none of the time. Not that all good humor is offensive, of course, but a big part of humor has its roots in our discomfort with our differences. Take that away and all you're left with is knock-knock jokes. Until some person emails you to tell you that your knock-knock jokes are too violent and help encourage door battery or something.

I don't pretend to speak for or about all lesbians or bisexuals, or indeed anybody besides myself. That should go without saying, right? And some of my best friends are--oh, never mind. For the record, I realize that bisexuality is a legit, non-mythical sexual orientation--one that's somewhat marginalized by society. And real-life bisexuals are plenty diverse in all possible ways. In fact, if I was going to venture to make one generalization about bisexual people based on my experiences, it's this: Bisexuals think and talk about their orientation way more than monosexuals, and are really sensitive when it's their turn to be the butt of a joke. Don't believe me? Sometimes my comics portray lesbians or straight people in a less than favorable light, but how many pissed-off comments do I get from those people? Uh, zero. As Dan Savage once put it (hey, another person who gets accused of being bi-phobic but is really kind and tolerant and simply unafraid to step on a few toes), "It's a sexual orientation, not a higher calling. Get over yourself."

Oh, and besides the kinda predictable bi stuff, I had a reader point out to me that this story was not believable because nobody would ask Jessi those kinds of questions because they're too personal. Now this I never thought about. They seem like pretty normal questions for your buddies, maybe even your co-workers if the boss isn't around. Maybe it's because I'm part of the post-third-wave, socially-networked, no-such-thing-as-TMI generation. Maybe it has something to do with my profession. (Line cooks make dinner, not dinner conversation--we're not known for language you can bring home to mom.) Or maybe it's because I'm friends with so many straight guys and they do ask these kinds of questions of their lesbian pals.

Which brings me around to the real inspiration for this page: Straight men. Rivers of ink has been spilled about the famous symbiotic relationship between the hag and her fag, but no one ever talks about the awesome chemistry between certain lesbians and their het brothers. So I will: How I love the straight men in my life. How fun it is to watch television with them, drink and eat crap with them, and check out girls with them. My guy friends won't ever hurt me (at least not on purpose), and if I don't call them for a few weeks or months because I'm busy, they won't guilttrip me or think that I don't love them anymore. And if I write a story that makes them collectively look like doofuses, they realize I'm laughing with them, not at them.

Anyways. Thanks, readers, for visting and sharing your opinions with me. It's my goal to make interesting comics for people to read, and sometimes that overlaps with controversy and that's just how it's gotta be. I hope you will continue to indulge me.

Peace,

Michelle