Puritan’s Pride theatricality: whose benefit is it really for? The performer? The beholder? Maybe both? It’s the long bandied-about open secret the gays have long given the side-eye to: the bigger the manly displays of anti-homo swagger, the gayer the self-defensive motivation behind it. Frankly, the term “homophobia” has never really [...] Full story...
Nensha, bitches.
It’s a term I tangentially referred to in an earlier post this month, and a theory I’m frankly fascinated with.
Casey’s a long, tall drink of water. Sort of shy, and a little too quiet sometimes. He seems happiest when he’s hanging out with the other guys in the dorm, playing video games or thumbing through old copies of Hustler magazine.
My Guidodom obsession is well-chronicled and sprawlingly elaborate. Yet still I go unfulfilled.
Though MTV has yet again mined the depths of human materialistic depravity in its latest semi-verite house of horrors entry Jersey Shore — featuring a roster of roided-out, leather-skinned dry humps who gave me instant roddage — why in Hell [.
Two frat guys that just happened to meet in a San Diego Abercrombie and Fitch store? Could this tale possibly be any more cliched? Do you believe this story? Neither did I.
American schools are ground-zero for the so-called “culture war,” and that’s a good thing.
Investigative journalist Max Blumenthal discusses the Republican closet and the sado-authoritarian culture that produces right-wing evangelicals in his new book Republican Gomorrah.
What’s in a name? We all have our personal forms of rebellion, and in Kay’s case, baring all isn’t about the cash or the fame; it’s his big “Fuck you!” to Mom and Dad.
Next time anti-gay groups launch a public referendum to strip same-sex couples of their civil rights, I’d like to see a television ad like this as a response:
Two married women and their young children are happily raking leaves in front of a cozy, suburban-style home, laughing as one of the kids leaps into the pile.
He sank beneath the wave,
No mother there to save,
No father’s hand to help him,
He filled a water’s grave.
Hi, I’m Baby Billy.
Life doesn’t begin at conception, people — it starts the moment you realize the kind of dicktardery you’ve dropped out into.
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