I got my first fish tank about 4 years ago, right after I decided to kick my lesbian nun Catholic iconography fetish and really EMBRACE life. I ditched the glow-in-the-dark Pieta, my friend Mipa gave me some plants, I filled the shelves with feminist or lesbonic books like Cunt and The Clitoral Truth and I decided that a wee fishtank would really be the piรจce de resistance. I am, after all, a Pisces.
I had a vision but not a lot of time for research, so for this first fish foray, I ended up getting one of those tank "kits". You know, the ones that come with a filter and food and a video starring a boy named Timmy who's setting up a new fishtank too! With his dad, who has a handlebar mustache! And creepy porn-type music! It was grand. I filled my tank with plastic plants, green gravel (or "clown puke", as some call it) and a kicky granite sculptural element. After a week of running the tank, I was READY.
I realized, when I returned to the store to buy inhabitants for my tank, that I had neglected to do any kind of fish research whatsoever. But I wasn't worried, because I knew I would be getting help from one of the pet store's fish experts, or "fishperts". I made my way to the algae-scented aquarium area and spotted my man immediately.
"Hi!" I said to Bradley, the sullen, mouth-breathing fishpert, "I have a new tank!"
"And?" said Bradley.
"Aaaand I would like some fish!" I finished brightly.
"What kind of fish do you want?"
"I don't want anything fancy. I'd really just like some lesbian fish," I said "you know, strong, independant, maybe wearing plaid -"
"Just pick the fish."
After much deliberation, I chose a multicoloured orange fish with a tall fin and a smaller fish from the same tank who looked like a dalmation. Bradley came over and netted and bagged them for me. As he handed me the bag, I gestured to the orange one and said "I'm calling this one Thelma! And the other one will be Louise!" Bradley indicated his interest by scratching at his junk with the handle of the fish net. I beat a hasty retreat.
Thelma, Louise and I made it home on the subway and my then-roommate Jesk and I sat on the end of my bed and watched the fish adjust to their new environment. After a few minutes of freaking out, my new fish settled into a disturbing pattern of sexual harassment. Thelma was all OVER Louise. I was bewildered.
"I told the clerk I wanted lesbian fish," I said to Jesk.
"Well," she said, watching as Thelma aggressively pursued a harried Louise round and round the tank, "it looks like you got a lesbian fish . . ."
The mystery was solved on company time the next day when I found a fish website and learned that Thelma was a male. Moreover, he and Louise were mollies. Mollies are prolific breeders. I drew friends and co-workers into my fish drama via e-mail. "I can't have MORE fish in that tank! There's barely enough room for the two I have as it is!" My inbox beeped as the reassurances poured in. "I had fish for 7 years and they never had babies. It will be fine!"
The next day I woke up and there were 9 more fish in my tank. Clearly, back at the pet store, Louise had been the mollie aquarium 'ho.
Fast forward 4 years and I'm caught again in a fish proliferation debacle, albeit with a completely different species. As some of you may recall, when the platy birth rate in our big tank started to climb back in April, we actually tried to save some of the babies, not realizing that our randy fish were just getting started. I've tried everything - fiddling with the temperature to discourage breeding, only feeding them every other day to encourage their natural cannibalism but these wily baby platys keep on keepin' on. The really little ones don't even bother hiding any more, because they know they'll be protected by the enormous platy herd, who thunder all over the tank, eating everyone's food and terrorizing the last, lonely neon. As an added insult, the original pet store male platys have NO qualms about mating with their many young offspring. I don't want to impose my own moral code on the animal world but gang - it's like Pitcairn Island in our tank. And it's gotta stop.
Soooo, hey - want some fish? If you can come pick 'em up, they're FREE! I'll even throw in a freezer bag and some clown puke. And a kicky granite sculptural element.
Well, I'm sad to report that after two entire days of "working out everyday" and "eating in a more healthful way" and "flossing", Katr and I do not look like this young lady in the knitted bikini. Mainly because we don't have cowboy hats. 
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