So if I hate beets, it's because I'm not in touch with my inner borsht freak? Because I'd sooner eat a dead rat than a beet, but only because, to me, they taste like urine soaked llama shit.
Pita said I'm really masculine, and you know what? I am. I think that's okay, though, ya know? I got conned into dressing in drag for Halloween, years ago, because... you know.. it's a cheap costume and it's always good for a laugh. I got TONS of laughs that year. You know why? I look like a football player in a dress. I have no feminine features whatsoever. None. I ooze manly man stuff. It's just my biology.
It's not that I don't have emotions or feelings or that I'm insensitive or any of that shit. I'm not anti-gay. I mean, for what? Who CARES what you do amongst consenting adults? I sure as hell don't. I just don't want to touch other guys wee wees. Okay? And I'd rather they didn't touch mine. That's at least as okay as being gay, or straight, or a Hispanic, lesbian beet farmer.
The last couple of generations of Jungen, in this country, have had incessant smoke blown up their impressionable, little asses about how anybody with white skin, testicles, and who likes to make bang bang with the opposite sex is an oppressive, insensitive poseur who likes to crush anything of beauty or sensitivity under their jackboot heel.
Attention: This is a crock of shit, largely created, I think, by a lot of bitter ex-wives with too much time on their hands. PC is just radical feminism with extra vitamins and a whole lot of filler.
Not everybody who doesn't decide to go out and suck off other guys for a bit or have the 'obligatory college lesbian experience' is a fucking Nazi or a priggish biatch.
Some people just... know what they like.
And that's....
... okay.
It is.
I can't buy the notion that I'm, somehow seething with homo lust because of some threadbare new wives tales.
Straight white guys laugh and cry and have feelings, too.
They're just not, you know... all Oprah about it.
And, hey... Crabby:
If got something to say, spit it out.
Don't, uh.. what was the phrase you used...
"...act real nice to your face and when you're not around tell everyone how much of an annoying paranoid freak you are and explain how you have no grasp of reality."
Just honk it out, son.
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I wanted my half in the middle and I wound up on the edge.