so, so much hair to wash
I was recently invited to a gay person's "wedding" even though I barely knew this person.
I declined without ever looking up from my phone or ceasing to make sweet, sweet oral love to my iced coffee with a vanilla shot.
The young man, and I mean very young, he's 20, was offended, naturally, and wanted to know what else I could possibly be doing that was more important than his "wedding."
I gave him the following list of activities:
Washing my hair
Washing his hair, he has long hair and always looks like he's about a week away from his last shampoo
Clipping my toenails
Clipping my ancient dogs toenails as the sound of them clacking on every hard surface we have in our home makes the poor dear think the canine angel of death is right on her arthritic heels
Making mixed cassette tapes with an iPhone app since there's no such thing as cassette tapes anymore
Working out
Masturbating
Drinking alone in my room
upping the dosage of my sleepy time party mix to drown out the voices in my head
And so on and so forth.
He actually stopped me at the cassette tape remark and wondered aloud why he even bothered to talk to me. I have been wondering this out loud every day he comes to sit next to me while I ignore him and read things on my phone while drinking my breakfast. I didn't seek his friendship out and have offered him none. He persisted regardless.
Now he has the unmitigated gall to be offended when I don't want to see his fat, greasy, gothic and unwashed ass in whatever "avant garde" train wreck of an outfit he'll wear to his "wedding." I fail to see how this is a short coming of some kind on my part.
Besides, gay people can't legally marry in this state yet so the whole sad queer parade is little more than a shin dig I'd just as soon pass on, even without the pretend nuptials. The gays in this part of the country who aren't deeply, deeply closeted, and violent toward their brethren, are hopped up on either pharmaceutical grade mood elevators or street grade shit. Both give them bad skin, premature erectile dysfunction and massive guts. If I wanted to hang out with a group of people who needed to share stories about hitting rock bottom and how the holy spirit saved them from a life of depravity and accidental death by choking on their own vomit I'd just stay home and watch A&E.
The few queers worth fucking are like me and can't be bothered with the pretense or putting forth the effort pretending to want to have sex requires when it's just way easier to jack off.
