“Michael Phelps’ girlfriend admits she was born a man; had corrective surgery.”

Wait, what? “Corrective”? Since when is being born a boy a mistake? Is she a swimmer too? Is that why she nipped her knob off? To move faster through the water? And who’s been accosting this anonymous creature so ardently that she’s suddenly felt compelled to “admit” it? And subsequently “lose” her Olympian boyfriend?

The questions are endless already.

But my bigger question comes after I click on the link to find a whole different story going on.

And the Inception levels are strong with this one because not only is the headline misleading, but the rest of the story makes you wonder why they’re even telling something more fabricated than the lady parts are this chick had installed in her 20’s. I’m not knocking my trans-gender friends (or plastic surgery itself for that matter). In fact – aside from the fact that our M2F and F2M friends are human people like you and I and thus deserve respect – they’ve also got a wealth of wisdom. I mean, think about it: Transgenders who’ve undergone the whole shebang and hormone therapy are the only people in the world who can tell you what it’s like to be both a man and a woman. They’re the only folk who can come back with the epic retort of, “YES I DO!” if their partner ever says, “You can’t understand because you’ve never been a dude.” (Maybe that’s why people are afraid to date them? They they know too much?)

However, the only thing this specif chick knows too much about is poor Michael.

Her social media’s devoted to Mr. Phelps. That’s not a relationship. That’s fodder for next week’s episode of “Obsessed”. Doesn’t matter what wobbly bits she’s snipped – the only thing I’m questioning here is the legitimacy of the story and why they’d employ this self-made woman’s self-proclaimed girlfriend status over the legions of other “born this way” stalkers I’m sure he has (also vying for media spotlight). Could it be because she’s the kind of different people still haven’t come to accept? And people love a good freak show? Especially when they can pair it with a fresh-outta-rehab celebrity? Maybe these two had a micro second fling that culminated in a “Crying Game” moment. Maybe they didn’t. But my bullshit call is due to the fact that when you’re actually involved with someone – regardless of what equipment you had uninstalled in life – you respect them. You have the couth to not to post all the bits of their private they intentionally avoid talking about to your Twitter every two seconds.

That’s not what an actual loving girlfriend would do, is it?

So, no. I don’t believe for a second that Kelly Rutherford Point Adams Apple here met a dude who can probably order poon like it’s Papa Johns on – of all things – Tinder. What I do believe is that a poor formerly-dude-now-chick who’s still not sure of her identity is getting it validated temporarily by coming out about it publicly. And the carnivorous soul eating carnival of the media is more than happy to serve as an infamy hitch for her ride on the legs of a celebrated swimmer.

Sadly, she’ll ultimately be left drowning in that pool quicker than Mike can win a meet.

Just like everyone else who swims with sharks.

#zing