As featured in
eveinterrupted : e-zine
a new lesbian experience south florida style

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Story: Being a Faux Lesbian
Guest Writer: Fay Carmona
Critique: "Hilarious"....proclaims George Bush

Being Called a Faux Lesbian.. I thought that title would get your attention!! With all the events I do on a daily basis I have the honor and pleasure to meet the most animated, caring, passionate people in the world. Can you feel a but coming?? Yes here it come a big o‘ PuertoRican J-Lo butt. There’s always a yin to the yang. A black to the white. A bad for good. And believe me not everyone uses their powers for good instead of evil like I do. The drama Queens. The gossipers. The people that have nothing going on in their lives so they talk about yours. Your life is their General Hospital with out the doctors but with all the mouth to mouth. Then there’s others that just can’t help it and they are in a category all their own.

I have a dear friend that is a lesbian. Let’s call her Trisette. (Real names changed to protect..well the writer damn it!!) It’s a fact that there is nothing worse than a beautiful lesbian that doesn’t take shit from anyone and wants to protest against the world except a beautiful lesbian that doesn’t take shit from anyone, wants to protest against the world and carries shit loads of Sarcasm wherever she goes. It’s her own kind of ammo. Like when Monkeys fling poo at each other. Same logic. Say something that gives her enough time to reach in her bag and…. you may have a face full of poo. Well Trisette called me a Faux Lesbian. She knows how dedicated I am to the gay community even though I know that Bisexuals are as welcomed as the KKK at Freak-nik but still I’m there. So that got me thinking… If Trisette thinks that then maybe others do too. Am I a fake lesbian because I also like men? Am I a fake lesbian because I love wearing heels even in the middle of the day to go to Publix? I’ve gone to Publix with Rollers in my hair does that make me a House wife? So for my first article in this Fant-a-bulous publication I’ll break it down for you so we can move on and really make fun of everything around us. From sex to clothes. To sex with clothes. And all in between.

But Let me begin by saying that without the gay community I could never do my job. At least not legally. I am a radio personality that likes women!! Say it isn’t so! Let’s get ALL of this out of the way now. I am bisexual. It’s not a cop-out! If I could choose? Trust me I would have done it a long time ago. It would have saved me from many embarrassing situations and would have spared me from some of the odd places I’ve had sex. Its not a fad, I’ve always felt for women. I remember in high school gym noticing that I enjoyed the locker room a little too much. I remember having vivid dreams about sleeping with Madonna. I just shrugged it off, as I was just a big fan. Well According to my dream I sure was a Big Fan……..a big fan of her cooter. Years later when I was old enough to finally understand what I was feeling I FREAKED!!! And depression soon followed. You have to understand I come from a very Macho Latino family. Puerto Rican father and Colombian Mother who sent me to church every Sunday so I wouldn’t forget that I was going to hell if I committed ANY sins in the following 6 days. Didn’t matter what type of church from Pentecostal to Baptist I was there bright and early Sunday morning. Some of the girls in the Youth Group were cute. (Anyway.) My dad was the typical homophobic father. Tough guy who would “Break someone’s face” if he got hit on by a male.” Relationships with men were relatively easy. I felt bad sometime for men, straight men. They can be so Damn sexy but so damn stupid. So driven by the cooter! While other girls had the possessive boyfriend and the perfect designer clothes, I didn’t. I told my boyfriends when they could see me. “6am at my house before school and be there with breakfast in hand.” Plus I made my hand me down clothes into COOL pieces by attaching safety pins, patches and lots of marker. I was so Gay. (Please!) Plus it all happened in Freakin New Jersey, the armpit of the United States. The closest gay person was this flamer down the street and the closest gay bar was in The East Village in New York. All this and my crazy nappy hair had become an afro. I was having issues and I was confused. But I figured out how to help all my distress. MOVE!!! I left to one of the Gay-est places on earth. South Florida. This is where I met my better half..my alter ego….the person under that mask I had been wearing all those years. Gay Fay!!! She’s cute, has a great sense of style, is a HUGE Fag hag, is comfortable in her own skin and goes above and beyond when it comes to the Gay Community and their events. Welcome to my world. Now you know and knowing is half the battle. G.I. FAY…

PS: I just re-read this article a week later and MAN do I need therapy. Peace and love.

Till Next time. Make sure you don’t sleep with anyone that is not registered to vote. We must get this Bush disease out of office!!!