I have a friend we’ll call Dave but whose real name is Ken. Dave is kind of a pretentious jackass who talks about going to fabulous events like gallery openings and book readings and fundraisers that are very expensive (he gets to go to these because of his magical check writing ability… dumbass thinks it’s all because they like him). Dave lives in OC but acts like he lives in LA. Honestly, once you’re on the 405 there’s really not much of a difference between the two… the southland all kind of blends together. However, while people in OC might say they live in LA, people in LA would beat you to death if you mistake them for someone from OC.
I’ve seen it happen. I have blood stained jeans to prove it.
Dave also, like oh so many in OC, is a Republican which is funny because he’s also a sistah. A deeply closeted sistah, but a cocksucking, assmunching, buttfucking sistah nonetheless. When we both worked for the same bank, Dave liked to pretend he was straight which was funny as hell to me and a lot of others because, well, the boy had a vag. I can, if pressed, pass for straight. Dave couldn’t. Ever. Needless to say, it was kind of comical when he tried to talk to the straight guys about chicks and stuff and sports.
Last year, Dave developed a crush on Republican heartthrob Mr. The Plumber. Unbeknown to Dave, Mr. The Plumber doesn’t like the gays. At all.
“People don’t understand the dictionary — it’s called queer,” Wurzelbacher told Christianity Today in an interview published this week. “Queer means strange and unusual. It’s not like a slur, like you would call a white person a honky or something like that. You know, God is pretty explicit in what we’re supposed to do — what man and woman are for.”
He added, “I’ve had some friends that are actually homosexual. And, I mean, they know where I stand, and they know that I wouldn’t have them anywhere near my children. But at the same time, they’re people, and they’re going to do their thing.”
So. Much. Here… First, I’ll be honest and admit I’ve never really understood the dictionary. People have forEVER been telling me that I’m simply too stupid to comprehend a reference guide that gives definitions for a vast number of words which are all, conveniently, arranged alphabetically.
As for queer being a slur, like so many things it depends on tone and inflection of the speaker. It’s a lot like the word ‘nigger’. When you say it with a smile in a friendly tone of voice to a black person, like “It’s soooo good to see you! How are you doing, you old nigger!” Black people just, you know, fucking LOVE it. Same with The Gays and queer. Or faggot which is another word that is not, at all, offensive when someone who is not a faggot uses it to refer to someone who is The Gay. Really, people should completely feel comfortable using words that used to be considered extremely pejorative. As long as you say them nicely, it’s all good. Score one, Mr. The Plumber.
Now as for not letting The Gays play with his kids, that’s a tough one. On the one hand, The Gays usually love children. On the other hand, they just can’t stop themselves from LOVING the children. It’s a sickness which is why the overwhelming number of pedophiles (lovers of children) are The Gay. Mr. The Plumber, being extremely wise and knowledgeable, just wants to protect his little plumbers. Chalk another one up for Mr. The Plumber, 2-0.
Now, on the subject of what men and women are for, I think what Mr. The Plumber means is that God specifically says that women are for the pleasure of men. More to the point, you ladies are only here to satisfy the raw sexual urges of Mr. The Plumber. So, you all have that to look forward to. SCORE, Mr. The Plumber, 3-0.
Finally, it’s great to know that Mr. The Plumber has some friends that are actually The Gay. It always makes me feel better if, when people say offensive things about different groups of people, they will just let us know that they have friends in that group. It also shows that Mr. The Plumber has a great depth of knowledge about The Gays.
I sent this to Dave and his response was that I needed to stop rubbing McCain’s loss in his face. I told Dave that wouldn’t happen because, much like a dog that shit in the house, he has to be trained. And he really needs to do a better job picking his objet de masturbation.