I'm a gay man and I have nothing but fond memories of my time spent in the girls' locker room. As an effeminately homosexual adolescent, I felt very uncomfortable and out of place in the loud, nasty, testosterone-fueled environment of the boys' locker room, so our dyke gym teacher let me use the girls' locker room instead. All my friends were girls and they loved me, I was kind of their cuddly little gay mascot. But there's always one bitch who'll kick up a fuss, and it's usually the ugliest one in the room. This hatchet-faced shrew called Arlene took issue with my presence, she was all "Oh I don't feel comfortable with him looking at my naked body", and I was just like "Girl, I wouldn't look at your tired ass if it paid me to". She got over herself eventually. Sometimes I would sashay into the boys' locker room and pretend I'd forgotten my schoolbag, then I'd run back to the girls' locker room and tell them about all the small sad willies I'd seen. I also had great fun towel-whipping those bitches until their fat asses were red raw! Lolz.
