I learned 2 more lessons today. First, I learned what Queens is. Second, I learned what queens are.
Queens is that place across the East River. I never ventured there because Uncle Stanley-Bob keeps the river so putrid that I didn't bother. I looked it up on wikipedia today and it looks nice, so that was one lesson learned.
Queens fall into two types. One type tells you what to do because of divine right. The other type tells you what to do because they are bitchy men. It is to the second type of queen that I owe my distress.
I had just helped Agnes make and walk in her burger shoes when we went our separate ways. That's when I found a flock of queens who wouldn't stop pecking at each other. "Perfect!" I cried. I love flocks and I LURVE pecking, so I joined in merrily. But these fellows wouldn't have it. They took one look at my cunt and my cuntal area and cried "foul" or "fowl." I could not distinguish the homophones, but there was no mistaking what happened next: they marched off. I was alone again. Some birthday!
 Infamy is a complete tool. If it weren't for typos, no one would ever go down on him at all. He changed his name to Infamy for that very reason. He used to go by Willie, but everyone made fun of him back then.