By James B. Wyler
After Mr. Man Mason decided to call me out, I figured I should write something. The Mason simply could have sent a brother an email, but we all know how that beyotch acts. All you fans keep your funky emails to yourself because the last sentence was a freaking joke.
So here's a story. I'm at my local gay watering hole, lusting after the straight bartender (yes I'm that pathetic), and I look up from my drink. The place is crowded. A few of the cuties are preening and even some of the uglies, who should know better, are walking around like they are the one. Some have that look that if they don't get any booty they are going to rape someone, and some of the old heads are dreaming about back in the day when they ruled the scene. As an old head, I never ruled the scene.
So I'm looking around and it hits me. I hate queens. Not in the let's burn them all mentality or the ex-gay crap (to all the former queens out there: kiss my ass you weak punks). My distaste for everything gay is in the way we act. Sure a motherfucker is generalizing but if I can't do it here where can I do it?
What are our ways, you ask? We are some shallow whores. I always put my ear to conversations around me and on this night I heard more shit about workout techniques than I need to hear. Yes, Yes. I know. Everybody wants to be healthy and have the body of Adonis. That shit I get, but is that all we can talk about? Do we really need to waste air yapping about personal trainers and diet?
And when did it become cool for queens to copy each other like sad clones? Must we all wear Abercombie clothes? Just because you wear those cheap ass t-shirts, you are not going to be gang-banged by the models in the ads. And shit, haven't we heard the freaking company was a little bit racist.
If we wear bullshit clothes, we also make ourselves the center of the world. Maybe it's a NYC queen thing, but every gay has some bullshit story about being a star or fucking a star. I once had a date with some mf (stop laughing) who went on and on and on and on and on and on and on about his brief moment in the sun when he was a guest on the Rosie O'Donnell Show. Yes I know the heifa hasn't had her own show in ages but this man was still telling the tale, with pictures.
And what the fuck do we have about age. I'm not asking for you young things to hop in my bed (if you want to give me a call), but why is every old queen acting like he's 18 by using the words "bro" or "dude" or dancing to some song that came out yesterday? Is it a sin to be old now and groove only to the sounds of Monk?
And you young things need to calm the fuck down. Yes your booty is nice and tasty now but you are going to age like everybody else. And this is the thing no one tells you about getting old: desire never leaves.
Lastly we are dumb. Dumb as rocks. We don't read books nor know any history; however, we can tell you the freaking clothes in Britney's latest video. As if what that tart wears really matters.
I got nothing against my fellow sodomites, but I do wish we as a people stepped our game up a bit.