to whom it may concern:

your store is bigoted and you are soon going to have to change your policies, because i am tired of the politically-correct telling me that i, as a man, cannot wear clothes cut as short as wombmen' clothes. i will be organizing a coalition reminiscent of 1960's feminism, to protest your store and all the stores that have told me i am not allowed to dress in diversity.

i am no stranger to feeling outcast in this bigoted town, people seem to look down on me for promoting a website on my car with bumper stickers as offensive as the website itself. and maybe the domain names offend them, and, maybe it's the picture of "rosie the riveter" flexing her unapparent bicep with the words "we can do it" replaced by "look ma, no testosterone".

whatever gets their panties in a bunch, i am not sure about, but i am an occasional customer of your walgreens store, and i feel my rights as a gay "man" (read, "masculivoid") have been violated.

in fact, i could even stretch it to be all mens' rights have been violated by the actions of who i presume to be your store manager. i was dressed today in my wombman's tank-top, the kind with the skinny stringy things that connect the front to the back which go over the wombman's shoulders. i was wearing my spiderman underoos, as well, cut as short as i have seen on many wombmen all around town (and the country). and yes, i can wear boys' underoos, size 8, because i am a string bean (as eric forman was always considered to be). not eric cartman, though i have a thing for large men. that's not to say the walgreens manager was large, he wasn't, i guess i just am a lovefool for men who are cordial to me. like the cardigans once sung.

anyway, i went to the refrigerators to choose from your selection of cold sodas, and the aforementioned manager started talking to me. he asked if he could help me with anything, i had to bite my tongue because this man was way hot - so i just told him i was looking for a soda low in calories. i told him that i cannot have diet because i know that aspertame and sucralose are both bad for me.

i chose my soda, he led me to the front to check out, and i paid for it using my bank visa card. incidentally, to give you an idea of the importance of the man your company has assaulted today, these atm-spawned "bank visas" were not around before my traumatic brain- injury in 1990, but they were everywhere a few short years after getting my drivers' license in 1992. meaning that, being able to drive myself to places and always losing things, cash and condoms, these new visa bank-cards were invented to help me with my brain's disability, i no longer needed to keep track of cash. i still had to keep track of the condoms, so that is why i only had unprotected sex when i had sex, back in the 90s. i don't really have a use for sex or people now, though, so i don't worry about keeping track of condoms.

anyway, i paid for my soda and was walking to the door, when i saw the aforementioned manager (i keep saying "aforementioned" because as was "aforementioned," i am unsure if he was the manager). he was waiting by the door, i was actually thinking that he was going to ask me on a date (like jackie burkhart, i tend to think that everything revolves around me). he did not ask me on a date, but said he couldn't have me wear my wombmens' clothes in the store anymore.

i am not sure if my wombman's tank-top was the problem or if it was my boys' spiderman underoos, but i told him that wombmen wear shorts that are cut as short as my underwear. he proceeded to tell me that he can't allow it, because of the "other customers". i have come to realize and accept that my attire makes people complain. i write song parodies and today got the idea to do a parody of the doors' "people are strange" as "people complain".

anyway, i am telling you now to send a letter to all your stores, telling your employees to tolerate diversity. in california, i'm sure you see lots of masculivoids appropriately dressing in wombmens' clothes - in california walgreens stores, even.

ps, it is monday may 24, i was at your store around 10:30 am, so if you could then send my email address to the manager. i would like to get to know the manager, or whoever it was that said i couldn't wear my underwear in-store. my address is - or, relating to this letter, - thank you.

check out my site, , unless you're there now