They've all decided not only to date each other in never-ending cycles of incest, but to ask me for relationship advice. And sex advice. Because, you know, what I really want to do is listen to their relationship and sex problems and then ADVISE them on it as opposed to pretending I don't know them.

The rest of them are freaking out about how the gays might be hitting on them, existing in our suburb, making out with each other to piss off the straights, or being bisexual and therefore either not existing or having an experimental phase.

Great. I'm never talking to anyone again. Except you people. Maybe.