Thursday, July 21, 2005
There was once this hetero skinhead named Weasel I’d have to hang with sometimes, cuz I was tight with his girlfriend. He’d come to gay bars with us, but he spent his whole time pissed off and neurotic, thinking all these guys were hitting on him…
“That bartender winked at me. I’m gonna hit that bartender if our eyes meet one more time.” Well, it’s hard to order beer without meeting the eyes of the ‘tender, so I guess that means no more libations for you, man. Cuz I ain’t ordering beer for your homophobic ass.
We’d say, “Weasel. You’re in a gay bar. You chose to come here. Winkage between men happens on this turf.” You know, telling him just to be flattered and let it go. He’d grunt.
At the time, I was still willing to baby-sit people through their homophobia in the hopes of gradually gaining some acceptance for queers. You know – grin and bare it for the greater good. In retrospect, I don’t know why this appealed to me, cuz once someone accepts you, then they wanna hang out with you. “Great. He loves him some gay folks, but now I gotta go bowling with this asshole. The phone’s gonna ring, I’m gonna answer it, and his voice will be on the other end. Hey! Buddy! Poker game at my house! I know you said you hate poker, but you sure like a poker in the ass, don’tcha! Seriously, man - all the guys are looking forward to seein ya. It’ll be like a gay orgy, but we pile up chips insteada bums and dicks. Haaaa! Just remember – no footsy under the table.”
Ooo, don’t I hate it when they get so cozy that they start makin those buddy-buddy gay jokes. Then you gotta try to drive them away again, make them think the gays are real freaks so they’ll leave you alone. Ask if you can smell their buttholes after they doo-doo, that kinda thing.
These days I ain’t much in a helpful Queer Eye For The Straight Guy kinda mood, but I can give you one golden bit of Jojo Mojo for the Whack-ass Het’ro, and that is:
Don’t Flatter Yourself.
Why oh why do you think that a queer dude is automatically gonna want into your pants? Man, have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently? I don’t know how you can tell if it’s your face or an anal wart in that glass! What makes you think I’d want your scraggly ass-face pumping up and down on my dick? And though your fart jokes and the kick you get outta them are truly clever, they don’t exactly make you a Don Juan, or even a Don Knotts.
When a girl you ain’t into tells you she likes you, you don’t freak. You get a little ego boost. Even if you think she’s horrid, you pop a little wood cuz you’re bein’ reminded of what a hunky slice of testosterone you are. And maybe that’s why when a dude you ain’t into says he likes you, you get all bent outta shape insteada just saying “Thanks”: You’ve popped a little wood – just mentally - cuz your manhood’s been sweet-talked, and now you’re nervous that the woody means you’re gay. Your anger’s got nothing to do with the guy coming on to you, and everything to do with what’s goin’ on in your pea-brain.
Now, I ain’t saying that you’re gay and haven’t admitted it to yourself. I know you ain’t gay, cuz I’ve seen you dancing at the club, and even the most flame-retardant faggot is a real Crazy Legs next to you (and we actually call that “the straight boy dance” behind your backs). I’m just saying that punching out a dude who thinks you’re cute is not gonna make your semi-homo-hard-on go away. So instead - just chill, my brutha. Take a breath and you’ll soon return to your previous heterosexual state. Or go do something macho – play football, drink bruskis with the boys while you watch Fight Club or something. Though I need to warn you that Fight Club was written by a fag (hence, its brilliance).
I gotta confess, almost all of my guy friends are straight, and they’re some of the raddest men you’ll ever meet. Brilliant minds, big hearts. My props to ya, guys, for being gods in a world that turns out so many dumbos. Plus, y’all give really great head.
repost is Juha, nes visai patiko ir postas ir muzika ir jo planai atvaziuot Vilniu su savo anarcho-queer-vegan-hip-hop'u. kas dar labiau patiko, kad tai paprasto zmogaus postas ir ispudziai, o ne psichologu/psichiatru/seksologu/specialistu/profesionalu straipsnis. nes is vienos puses homofobai su savo apgailetinais argumentais uzpisa, is kitos puses tolerancijos-darymas-soros-stylee yra nemazesnis sudas. is vieno simuliakro i kita, nebutu karu atakos is pasitraukimai, laiko gaisimas ir uzsimirsimas. o prisedau visai ne apie tai rasyt, prisedau rasyt apie policija ir aplink ja, o po to apie viska pagal-plana (pastaruoju metu blogu griauciai is popieriaus taip ir nepereina iki cia, laiko ar ko kito, pritruksta, be to vel Blogo Koncepto Didysis Klausimas sugrizo i galva, tai irgi ismaituot reiks ji kada), tai va apie policija ir aplink, net pavadinima jau sugalvojau - Long Dick of the Law, bet po netycia i Juha patekau ir va.