Despite the alarmist headline, the answer seems to be no. And I’m crestfallen, really. See, I would honestly prefer not to live to a ripe old age. But if you don’t count the massive ingestion of elephant tranquilizers, the unprotected sex with prostitutes, and the part-time job as a crash-test dummy, I’m really very boring and not much of a risk-taker. So when I saw this, I thought, finally — a way to tempt fate, to skirt the cliff’s edge of destruction, to make onlookers gasp at my heedless, pell-mell descent into romantic ruin, to stare Death in the face and match him grin-for-rictus-grin, and all without having to make any changes in my lifestyle.
Another dream dashed.
Once upon a time, I was promised soy would make me gay. Nope. I was told I must already be gay for being vegetarian in the first place. Nuh-uh. I was told it would give me. I don’t even need a training bra after eating soy for almost two decades! I was so looking forward to being “The Confuser“, but I had to resign myself to simply being confused.
I just don’t know how I can recover from this latest disappointment.