I... uh... was struggling with how to tell you this. You see, I think I’m... um... different. I’m... er.... just not into the same people you are. There are plenty of others... like me. It’s just that we... we have feelings for... um... cartoons! I know, I know! This is a shock and it seems so strange, but I assure you it’s completely healthy and not a phase. In fact, I’ve always been like this . All the way back to the time I fell for Egon Spengler and Donatello...
- Egon. Donatello. Neither was real, but both were real big nerds - even in a group full of outcasts. Uh, alpha-nerds are totally my thing.
- Egon, that glasses-wearing, tornado pompador-having, theoretical physicist of my dreams. It was love at first snort-laugh.
- Donatello does machines (“that’s a fact jack!”). I was a tiny tinkerer too, and hoped to build something special with him. (A burglar trap? I didn’t care as long as there was hand holding.)
- IRL Egon: I don’t care what you say, 80’s Harold Ramis was a stone cold fox.
- Same goes for that man in the half-shell suit, Leif Tilden.
(left) Cowabunga, dude.
- Real talk: my love for Donatello at age 8 predicted a life-long sympathy for homosexuals. (Our favorite color is purple!)
- Donatello: the sensitive, cerebral dude. The every-nerd! Bonus: his namesake’s responsible for the single gayest biblical icon in art history. (pubescent David sass! Hey gurl, hey!)
- I was the neighborhood April O’Neil for all TMNT play, the Janine Melnitz for all Ghostbuster LARPs. Anything for a chance to sweep a boy off his feet with quippiness and good research skills. (A journalist! A secretary! Dream big, girls of the 80s!)