The future's uncertain and the end is always near.
-- The Doors, "Roadhouse Blues"

"Are you The FunHog?"

Depends on who you are, is my standard response to that loaded question.

"My name is Alexa," said the tall red-headed stranger. "A friend of mine who works for the Xena convention told me you were coming. I think you're funny."

Well, thank you, I said skittishly, still badly shaken over having been recognized at that sort of gathering.

"And I'm a lesbian."

You don't say? I'm a Democrat... nice to meet you.

Turns out, my conversation with Alexa the unabashed lesbian was the closest thing to normal I experienced at the Xena: Warrior Princess convention. I was there researching a story for my monthly column in Women's World Monthly... well, that, and I needed a break from my insane former ex-now-present girlfriend Tina, who seemed hell-bent on becoming my ex again.

So I found myself at a convention billed "Xena and the Ass Kickin' Women of Sci-Fi Television." And yes, it was as scary as it sounds.

For four solid hours, Bottomfeeder and I mingled with assorted freaks and mutants of all shapes and sizes - many decked out in Medieval finery - and came away from the ordeal with a crystal clear understanding of what the world would be like if, say, everyone in it were to be lobotomized.