(names changed to protect the innocent... and the guilty.)
When I was in college, one night a bunch of us were holed up in a friends dorm room, drinking, smoking (never mind what), and swapping stories of that most irrestistable topic: sex.
Now, there were about six of us: myself, four male friends, and Catherine, who, a year ago, had come out as bisexual, and had recently just broken up from her first homosexual relationship.
The topic was "misadventures with ex-girlfriends," and all of us had stories to share. Every man in the room had a few choice words concerning some woman who had done him wrong.
As we went around the room, it was Catherine's turn. She took a swig of Jack Daniel's, and launched into a couple of stories of her own. I won't share the details of what she said that night, but I swear, I couldn't tell the difference between her story or anyone else's. What she said could've just as easily come from any of us.
Now, I've never really had much of an opinion on homosexuality: Catherine obviously didn't bother me, and what people do in their bedrooms is their own business. But that night I was blown away with the realization that there really isn't any difference.... except in the minds of a loud minority who insist they know what's best for the rest of us.
Sex, be it hetero or homo, is a part of life. Naturally, it'll be a part of our entertainment. Kudos to Nickelodeon for having the stones to tell it like it is... and God help them if they screw it up.
