Lately it seems like you can’t go into a gay chat-room without someone talking about the Lady Gaga as though she’s the new pop Messiah. Now, to me – I’ve never been a huge fan of pop music in general. I don’t truly abhor it, as you might assume from the comic above, however I just really have no emotional use for it. It’s about as useful to me as cramming candy in my ears for the hopes of getting a sugar rush – it’s just going to fall short of its goal. But maybe, just maybe – I need to let my inhibitions down, crank up the music and just let my body do what it will. It’ll be as though for that brief tribal moment as I prance and sway – I will be connected to the true consciousness of the Homo and it will fill me with a radiant light that will shine brightly for an eternity as though I’m born again into the Church of the Gay.
And maybe then, I’ll start enjoying the concept of taking it in the ass.
This, obviously, is reason enough for me NOT to perform said-ritual, in an effort to totally keep up my mystique as a “totally butch dude”. Of course, how can a person be truly butch when they spend half of their days checking out fatties packages as they waddle through a crowded store? But yet, those are the things that no one ever notices or is willing to call you on. They just go on ignorantly thinking that you’re ‘one of them’ and talk about how hot chicks are, as though you could honestly care. Sometimes, it seems worth my while to try to gay myself up a bit… I don’t know what I could really do – because mannerisms, well… those are developed over time – and I’m looking for the immediate solution here. I could opt the gay jewelry route – but I’ve never been a big jewelry person, so once again, it would take time to get used to.
I used to have a Bear pin on my little drawing satchel until it somehow got torn off. I still mourn it, considering it was the only real conscious move I’ve made in an “out” kind of way, but that’s the way these things go. I just need to find the right t-shirt… A shirt that says “Pardon me, Ma’am, I want to fuck your husband” or “lift your belly so I can see your junk”… but in fewer words. Lucky for me, that’s what my Zazzle store is for – once I finally get off my ass (or on my ass, considering the designs will be done at the computer) to get to work on it.
It’s always a shame when your head is filled with ideas, yet there aren’t enough hours in the day to finish them.