Oh, god. I can't breathe.

I'm living in some urban gay mecca wasteland and all of my friends are old, gay, fat, sad, self-hating alcoholics and I'm surrounded by body glitter and sleeveless T-shirts and everyone slings tired, faux-witty barbs tacked with a snappy "Mary!" or "Oh, girl" and my weekends are nothing but a blur of weak, overpriced Red Bull mixed drinks and "ironic" trips to the local bathhouse.

And then I woke up and realized it was all just a dream.