The Gays. The Irish.

I love that every year in NYCity (home to the world's largest St. Patricks parade) there's a big stink because the Irish catholics in charge of the parade don't want Irish homosexuals marching in the parade -- ya, wouldn't want something to hurt the high moral standing of a St Pats celebration-

"Excuse me, officer, I was minding my own business - puking on a cat and trying to date rape a passed out college chick -when these two guys walked by holding hands! I was so offended I dropped my beer - fortunately I had another one in the other hand. And another one built into my hat."

One of the organziers, definding the exclusion of homosexuals, explained it this way: "If an Israeli group wants to march in New York, do you allow neo-Nazis into their parade? If African-Americans are marching in Harlem, do they have to let the Ku Klux Klan into their parade?"

Which makes sense - the Nazis killed 6 million Jews, the KKK lynched thousands of African-Americans, and the gay men compete with Irish priests for the intimate affection of young boys. Damn you, gays!!!! (the preceding was an inexcusable stereotype. Gay men do not go after children. And Irish priests do not... um... nevermind)

Now, that said, the idea of a gay leprachaun really sorta freaks me out a little. I realize i do have a certain amount of prejudice - gay men who are extraordinarily small creep my shit out. Which really makes no sense, because if I had to have sex with a gay man (like, to save the life of a hostage or something) I would want him to be as small as possible.

And by the way- Boondocks Saints is the gayest movie EVER. Oh, quit your whining, you know it's true.

Sex Scandal

Regarding the late governor of New York, why is it legal for two consenting adults to climb into a ring and attempt to batter each other into permanent brain damage for money, but illegal for two consenting adults to climb into a bed and have sex for money? What if I just have a naked cage match with a hooker, and when she dives onto me from the turnbuckle to power-drive my skull into the canvas (her signature move) my penis happens to enter her? Godless immorality or daring display of athletic prowess?

His client evaluation said that he was very polite and tipped well – am I the only person who thinks that makes it all OK? I have more respect for a good tipper who uses a hooker than for a shitty tipper who doesn’t. I don’t care if a governor likes to dry-hump cheerleaders while sitting on top of the lottery machine and letting numbered ping-pong balls shoot in his ass, as long as he rounds up on his bill and isn’t rude to the maid.

Beyond the particulars of this case (he did break the law, a law he was over-enthusiastic in enforcing on others) I think the larger problem is the fact that this fake-Puritanical culture is still so damn hung up over the issue of sex.

Sex is the one area of our lives where we get to have free reign – food makes us fat, alcohol makes us annoying, marijuana makes us boring, and love makes us needy. Only sex, with minor precautions, allows as to explore as deeply as we please, and to only scratch its surface is to nibble at a buffet. He cheated on his wife, but that’s a matter between them – the act itself is neither corrupting nor corrupt.
If I ever become famous and they uncover my private sex life, I HOPE it’s scandalous. I hope it’s twisted and shocking and depraved enough to make R. Kelly blush (shut up! Black people blush, it’s just harder to tell)
Last thing I want is some woman on the stand:
“Can you describe sex with Mark.”
“Oh…well…um…he was very polite…tidy…certainly didn’t take up much of my time…”
NO! I want her trembling with after-shocks, chain-smoking cigarettes, still not able to form sentences or hold a pencil. I want her knees shaking, her voice quivering, and her
innocence shattered. I want tales of high priced hookers, barnyard animals, and 220 volt sex toys.

If anyone ever describes sex with me as moral or respectable I will exile myself to a glory hole in a Filipino bar until the last scraps of my decency lie writhing on the indescribably repulsive floor.

Be proud of your sexual peculiarities – it’s you at your most essential, the ultimate manifestation of your most basic psychological needs. Twisted tales of sexual debauchery should not be hidden in the closest as a scandal; they should be listed on your resume as a reference.

Love your hate...

Think of someone you hate. No, not someone you dislike, or someone you don't care for... think of someone you hate.

Feel the hatred grind into your soul.

Feel it turn your glowing heart dark and cold.

Feel the hatred howling inside you, feel it hurl itself against the walls of tolrance and compassion, straining to be free.

Let it free. Hate.

Simple, all consuming, oblivion promising hate.

Now go vote the opposite of what that person will vote. Revel in the glorious knowledge that you have just canceled out their vote. Think of them, all smug with their little "I voted!" sticker, secure in the knowledge that they voted just how Baby Jesus wanted them to vote. Cackle to yourself knowing that you have denieed them their pathetic little voice in the world.

yyyeesssss... now go online and steal some movies, preferably some with full frontal nudity. You've earned it.

Hey, if you wanted to vote for yourself you already would have. this is just for those who need a darker motivation.