The Good Old Gays
The Daily Caller, home to all things bright and beautiful, just posted this piece about how the gheys have become like totally boring since they got a few civil rights and stuff. They were like so fun with their disco fans and Donna Summer and poppers and shit. But like now? You can’t even drive along Collins Ave with the top down screaming ‘Faggot!’ without some of the boys getting all riled up and pounding on your ass. And those boys are big. And muscly. And sweaty.
Speaking of which do you have any idea what it’s like trying to walk around Dupont Circle when you’re wearing your new Wrangler skinny jeans which are like awesome the way they hug your butt and like make your basket a real ‘case’ (lol) when all the old bald gheys keep scoping you out on account of how you totally look like a bottom? Even though you’re one hundred percent straight. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. That five o’clock shadow only took a week to grow. I’m more or less a bear. Or otter. Whatever. Jake Gyllenhall is so dreamy. Le sigh.
Broheims and broheimesses. Everyone experiments in high school. Amirite? And college. That’s a given. And no that incident at Lauderdale doesn’t count. Or the one at West Palm. Or that time I was swimming at North Branch. And everyone knows rest rooms don’t count. Or truck stops. Or airline attendants. Or Tucker Carlson. He tells all the guys they have pretty eyes. And yes, my face was made to bite pillows. And yes, I shave that space between my eyebrows (ed: the glabella) so I don’t look like a total lesbian. Otherwise I couldn’t even walk in the Arlington Home Depot without causing a riot when I’m not even shopping power tools. I’m just like pricing paint.
All guys wear plaid flannel shirts. Amirite? If I don’t have BJ lips my eyelashes have been described as ‘lush’. Spoiler alert: spooge stings.
I miss the way it was before I was born and became a drain on my parents’ retirement account.
I miss Fabulous! And this guy.