Blognigger,

Alright, here’s my sob story. I’m a forty-one year old dad that lives in Park Slope. I’ve got the two greatest kids in the world and my wife is my best friend. But let me get right to it: It’s become clear to me over the last ten years that I am gay. Not bi-sexual, gay.


Astute Reader Franz the Fake writes:

Blognigger,

Alright, here’s my sob story. I’m a forty-one year old dad that lives in Park Slope. I’ve got the two greatest kids in the world and my wife is my best friend. But let me get right to it: It’s become clear to me over the last ten years that I am gay. Not bi-sexual, gay. Of course I used to think that I was bi-sexual and even got married under that self-perception, though without admitting what i then felt were just “homosexual tendencies” to my wife.

I’ve always known that I was at least partially attracted to men as I’ve been having sexual thoughts about men for my entire life . For as long as I can remember. As the years have gone on though, I see more and more that I’m living a lie, and at forty one (you might be too young to understand this but I’m taking my chances with you since you seem to have wisdom beyond your years on so many other topics) at forty one, I’m starting to realize that despite my overwhelming desire to provide for the ones I love, the idea of living a lie might not be something I can ultimately life with.. The idea that another 10 years will pass, and then another 10, and I’ll look at the mirror every morning and think that while it’s been filled with love and meaning – it won’t have been ME that’s been living this life.

Does that make any sense to you?

I would never want my children to end up in a position like this. Where they feel their entire life is an act and a lie – and I know that the truth will hurt them and tear up my family, but how can I lead them by example while living a lie?

If this is making any sense, I’d appreciate any of the unique wisdom i’ve come to expect from you blognigger. Go ahead and print any and all of this if it serves your purposes. I’ve changed all the telling details already and my email address is a one-off, so go ahead and do whatever you like.

Thanks for listening…

Franz the Fake

Hiya Franz,

Blognigger

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Here’s a picture of his boob:

Judging by this photo alone, the butterfly tattoo, 100 in between his fingers, and his flapjack tit would lead me to believe that he’s a female bus driver from a poor white school district attempting to be naughty.

Retarded traits:
1.) His screen name. He’s brimming with gay pride, so I’m assuming his YouTube name is a reference to SpongeBob SquarePants‘ Patrick the pink starfish, who is thought to be a homosexual. I think that Joey meant to call himself a pink starfish rather than a blowfish. Although something tells me that his starfish is not pink.
2.) His hair.
3.) His lack of shoulders.
4.) He had to have one of his toenails removed because he didn’t care for it properly, and it never grew back.

Serial killer traits:
1.) In one video, he drinks a mason jar filled with a creamy, white fluid and pretends it’s semen.
2.) His hair.
3.) He has insomnia.
4.) One gets the sense that at any given moment in Joey’s videos, “Goodbye Horses” will begin playing, and he will say into the camera, “Would you fuck me? I’d fuck me.”

Here is his idea of trying to be sexy.

His thoughts on racism (he has black and Chinese friends, FYI):

Cum in a jar.

Trying way too hard to be gay:

Joey’s hot, sexy, gay feet (his words, not mine):

Here’s one where he pukes:

He has type 2 diabetes:

He uses his moles as an excuse to show off his body:

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Heyyyyyy Street Carnage,

Have you guys seen this site? It’s hilarious. Well, it’s mostly retarded but it captures what kind of weirdos use the internet (ones that write Tex-Mex fanfiction).

Heyyyyyy Street Carnage,

Have you guys seen this site? It’s hilarious. Well, it’s mostly retarded but it captures what kind of weirdos use the internet (ones that write Tex-Mex fanfiction).

Love,

Meg

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The slurping sound was familiar, but my ears hadn’t prepared me for what mine eyes were about to see. I had spent nearly every waking minute of the previous six weeks attending to my female pug’s nine hungry puppies, alternately bottle-feeding them and making sure that Mama Pug let them hang off her nips long enough to get a warm, nourishing meal.

The slurping sound was familiar, but my ears hadn’t prepared me for what mine eyes were about to see. I had spent nearly every waking minute of the previous six weeks attending to my female pug’s nine hungry puppies, alternately bottle-feeding them and making sure that Mama Pug let them hang off her nips long enough to get a warm, nourishing meal. It was exhausting work—by the time the ninth one was fed, we were right back at the top of the batting order. I had fallen asleep on the couch as the pups cuddled together in a big box on the floor.

The slurping sound roused me from my brief siesta. I immediately figured someone was nursing, but I was startled to look in the box and see Mama Pug was nowhere to be found. Instead, to my incredulous horror, I espied one male puppy feverishly BLOWING another! This is the sort of apparition for which a lifetime of psychological counseling and spiritual training could never prepare you, but I had to believe what my eyes were laser-beaming into my brain. Little “Johnny Boston,” one of the smaller pups, was bobbing his head up and down on the micro-mini-cock of “Da Priest” with the diligence of someone who faced a beating if they resisted. Da Priest, for his part, languidly lie on his back, legs spread and head lazily pointed toward the side as if enjoying a foot rub.

Since neither one of them seemed remotely interested in stopping their faggy little song-and-dance, I found it my duty as a caregiver to immediately separate them. Alarmed, angry, and ashamed, I pondered the implications of this sordid act for which the medical books and wildlife specials had not prepared me: Were two of my puppies homosexuals? And if so, how would this affect their market value?

Homosexuality among animals is as natural as a shiny red apple on a big green apple tree. Despite galaxies of evidence to the contrary, there still exist some mentally deficient Corn Nuts who believe that homosexuality is unnatural, citing as Gospel fact the myth that God’s beasts of the field are too macho and law-abiding to ever dabble in same-sex pleasures.

Au contraire, my kind, closeted friend. The historical record teems with case accounts of tawdry homo behavior among the lower orders. A massive book called Biological Exuberance claims that at least 470 species have been observed committing same-sex acts ranging from fellatio to cunnilingus to handjobs to pussy-bumping to “swordfighting” and full anal penetration. Many of these acts result in orgasm for one or—hopefully—both partners.

Female elephants have been observed using their trunks to diddle each other’s big rubbery elephant snatches. Lady monkeys and hedgehogs routinely muff-dive. Male dolphins have been known to fuck each other’s blowholes and stimulate one another’s naughty bits using “sonic pulses.” Lesbian seagulls form girl-only colonies off the California coast, while randy West Indian boy manatees engage in all-male orgies.

From the Agile Wallaby to the Bean Weevil, from the Indian Fruit Bat to the Mountain Dusky Salamander, from the Southern Green Stink Bug to the Yellow-Backed Chattering Lorikeet, from the humble Tsetse Fly all the way up to the majestic Sperm Whale, it seems that all of God’s creatures are prone to a little faggin’ off. And refreshingly, they do it without any of the annoying self-labeling so peculiar to humans. You might see orangutans blowing each other, but they’d never identify themselves as “queer.” They’re just blowing each other and having a good time.

Homophobes and troglodytes struggle to dismiss such obviously GAY behavior as either a display of social dominance, a friendly “greeting,” or even a case of mistaken identity. But when you consider that orgasms occur and that mutually affectionate and protective same-sex “relationships” often persist for years among animal couples who have ample access to the opposite sex, it seems plausible that homosexuality might even be an orientation among certain furry freaks.

This makes no sense from a Darwinian perspective, since evolution dictates that all sex aims at procreation. But it may make sense in that homosexuality lessens sexual competition and may even facilitate social order. Consider the fact that “gay” animal couples have been observed hatching others’ eggs and raising the young’uns, often with more success than “straight” couples. And never underestimate the social-bonding value of a good BJ.

Well, just because it’s natural doesn’t make it right, say the critics. After all, animals have been known to eat their young. Incest, gang rape, and pedophilic acts are also common among those pesky varmints.

What is unnatural, you ask me? Nothing. What’s wrong with any of it? I can’t say.

But beyond all the animal gay-play, and even out past where the murderous baby-eating incestuous Prairie Dogs roam, there’s another practice that exists both in the human realm and the animal kingdom: Lifelong committed heterosexual relationships. The only difference? It occurs with LESS FREQUENCY than nearly all of the sick acts listed above. So FAG ON, you faggot animals! Fag outward, onward, and upward!

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I like rap as much as the next guy with a car that has a lot of bass and feels like an ass if he blares Band of Horses from the speakers. It’s a lot of fun. There’s also the thing with the bravado in the lyrics that makes you feel like a bad ass and, when you step out on to the street, some of it is still ringing in your ears, which makes you stare at the bike messenger that almost cut you off like, “Do you have any CLUE who you’re fucking with?” However, as was pointed out in this “Fuck the Police” post that gave NWA shit for being babies, there is a lot of gay shit about rap that kind of ruins it for the rest of us.

These things are…

1- RESPECT

Stop talking about being disrespected all the time. Who gives a shit if some stranger doesn’t respect you? Outside of your spouse and maybe, your children, it’s really none of your business if someone likes or admires you, which is basically what respect is. God. You sound like an only child.

Same goes with haters. When Maino bitches about “You don’t like me? Why hater?” he sounds like Jakob Lodwick quitting the internet because people were mean to him. Grow the fuck up. To even think about a group of people that “hate” you means you give a shit and that is right out of Junior High. Can you imagine a construction worker with 5 kids bitching about “haters”? No, you can’t. He’s too busy being an adult.

2- GETTING SPONTANEOUS TATTOOS

We’re not sure what’s “worst,” getting a butterfly on your face or needing people to tell you that’s a bit off and then covering it up. Not only did The Game cover it up he covered it up twice, once with LA and once with the fucking Chuck Taylor star. Dude, your face is pretty precious real estate as far as tattoos go, so you may want to run some designs past people before stepping into a cover-up orgy.

Also, I love my niggaz and hereby promise to never fuck any of them over, ever, but tattooing your buddy on your body is sub-gay. It’s stupid. What if Lil’ Wayne fucks your girlfriend or rips you off (he will)? What do you do now, you eponymous Baby?

3- DRESSING LIKE BRATZ

So you finally put away the Daffy Duck maternity wear and now you’re offering a skull sweatshirt with 250 fake diamonds glued to it? Dude, you’re 30. You’ve gone from dressing like a pregnant mom to doll clothes. Could you make it more obvious that you still live with your mother and never had a dad?

(From now on, nobody can brag unless they’re doing this or above)

4- FIGHTING IN GROUPS

Here’s what’s tough: Stepping into a fray when you are outnumbered and defending a stranger that doesn’t deserve the beating.

Being part of the mob that does that gross thing where they kick an unconscious guy in the head is just making another retard, and you already did that with your girlfriend.

5- SELLING CRACK TO YOUR NEIGHBORS

What is worse than Young Jeezy bragging about how everything he does is for his hood while cracked-out zombies rob their mothers to give him $20? Can you not sell pot to college kids or coke to Wall Street guys? The song should be, “Every time I do it I do it IN my hood” because the only thing he ever did “for” his hood was use it to buy jewelry.

6- TALKING ABOUT MONEY WHEN YOU’RE NOT RICH

Here’s a tip: if you don’t have enough to buy a house and put your kids through college one day, you should probably not change your name to “Cash” and brag about how rich you are. Stop talking about “getting that paper” and carrying a rubber band around ten grand when that’s basically the most money you will ever have. Schoolteachers have fucking 50 grand in the bank and they are not happy about it. You sound like an eleven-year-old talking about how huge his cock is.

7- LISTENING TO R&B

One of the worst things about the whole world is the shitty crooner ballads everyone listens to. Walk down the street in Palermo and you will hear love songs pouring out of teenager’s cars like everyone is best friends with my Nana. You can run all the way to Taiwan to get away from it but you’ll hear the exact same song only with weirder-sounding words. Britain, North America and maybe a pube of Germany has escaped this fate but you’re listening to Mary J Blige? She was literally Ed Bradley’s favorite “artist.” Grow down.

8- TALKING LIKE CHRISTOPHER HITCHENS

What is with all the “If you will?” and “Things of this nature”? Stop saying someone would be “intrigued” to meet me. Who are you, an aristocrat 100 years ago? And where the fuck did “trifling” come from? Assuming it comes from “a trifle,” that shit is spoken by 1% of British whites and there’s nothing intellectual about a spoiled, inbred, English queer.

9- GRAFFITI

So, you made up an alias for yourself and you’re spray-painting it all over other people’s property? Great. Oh, you used etching cream and now that just-scraping-by restaurant owner has to spend $1,500 on replacement glass?

Fine. I get it. You’re you.

10- FUCKING MEN IN THE ASS AND LETTING THEM SUCK YOUR DICK

Not sure what dictionary you got “heterosexual” from but when a man, any man, puts his mouth around your penis, that is gay. There’s nothing wrong with it if you’re gay but you can’t posture all macho and homophobic afterwards like it didn’t happen because it just did.

Oh yeah, and when you’re talking to strippers and whores who are jerking you off and you say shit like, “You like those big old dicks don’t you? You like to suck those big beautiful dicks,” that too, is gay. I know you did it, by the way, because I was in the next booth.

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Question: Would you stick your dick in this?

Question: Would you stick your dick in this?

The answer would be yes…if you were a homosexual chubby chaser.

The other day, MTV ran a marathon of True Life. I fucking love those shows and can watch them over and over again. (Particularly the one where the Staten Island couple gets married, and the bride has that gross tan and garish fake tits and lips and yells at her fiancé for being a “fuggin’ animal.”) Anyways, the one about being happy about being fat was on, and I was thoroughly disgusted with these people’s attitudes about the importance of “acceptance.” They live these bleu-cheese-dressing-drenched lives, giving into every whim and hunger pang, and refuse to exercise, and they want us to 1.) accept that this is the way “God made them” and 2.) applaud them for their “bravery.” It’s not courageous to live one’s life that way—it’s totally selfish and unhealthy. And this is coming from a girl who scores pretty high up there on the scale of selfish and unhealthy behavior. The difference is that I’m self-aware to recognize my faults, while these mass asses want to delude themselves into thinking they are being progressive in breaking down stereotypes.

Porky in the picture above is named Mikey. He’s gay and has carved out a little—actually, a XXXL-sized—niche for himself in the chubby-chaser community. I understand very little about this kind of fetishism, but it absolutely baffles my mind that this is the guy he nabbed:

I mean, that dude isn’t my type, and I wouldn’t even fuck him with Mikey’s back vagina, but you get what I’m saying. Right?

And then there was this chick, who is trying to start a fat acceptance club at her college. Searching for campus approval makes her self-hate all that more transparent. Also, my theory is that if you are obese, and you haven’t got any tits, you weren’t actually meant to be obese, meaning that, no, God did not “make” you that way. French fries did.

But this chick is the one that really pissed me off:

Her name is Sharonda and she says that she’ll never stop eating the way she does—which involves spending $15 at a fast food joint on one meal for one person—because she doesn’t want to give in to what “society” says she should do. Society? What about “science” or “doctors”? Seriously! It’s one thing if you’re a fat fuck and you realize it, but it’s a whole other can of chocolate-covered gummi worms to be fat and stupid.

Later, she cries in a dressing room at a store because it’s not fair that she can’t find clothes that fit her.

Lesson not learned: You can’t have your cake, and fit into cute clothes, too.

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