Posted by Prince Gomolvilas
ON Monday, July 07, 2008
ON Monday, July 07, 2008
You probably know about the women of the blogosphere who have publicly declared their crushes on me, so it won't surprise you to know that women outside the blogosphere approach me with declarations of swooning as well. I actually think more females crush on me than males, which, as you know, is a DAMN SHAME and must be some kind of SICK COSMIC JOKE. Just think—all those hungry female genitals that are left to yearn, unfulfilled. If I were straight, I'd get so much poon that my head would spin and I would actually get to be the man-whore that I constantly pretend to be. But I suppose if I were straight, women wouldn't crush on me at all. That's the way it is, isn't it?
Now it's not that I find vaginas horrifying.... Well, actually, I do, but that's not the point. The point is, I actually have a deep appreciation for straight porn, which is my crass way of saying that I appreciate women—but looking and touching are two different things. In other words, watching and being eaten by a vagina are two different things. In other words, merely observing and falling into wet flaps and folds that I don't understand are two different things.
I'm not exaggerating about these girl crushes. In graduate school, a girl that I had briefly courted in college when I was still trying to be straight (ha ha, I know!) called me up out of the blue and insisted we get married. She was fed up with her series of bad relationships, and it was time for her to settle down. With me. I told her that I had recently come out, and she didn't believe me. She thought I was trying to brush off her marriage proposal with some gay lie, so she continued to press me until I hung up on her.
But years later, even being openly gay doesn't stop them. Several years ago, a girl backed me into a corner in a rehearsal room and wanted to get it on. She was convinced that I wasn't totally gay and there must have been some part of me that wanted to tap her ass. No, no, I didn't want any of it, that ass. Then she got angry. Not at me. But at the way the world works.
Some time ago, a friend of mine who knows full well that whenever I see a straight kiss in a gay movie I immediately recoil and scream, "And then it turned into a horror show!," asked for my sperm. You know, to make babies with. I declined. I have a baby. His name is Pork Chop. And that is that.
I'm not entirely sure what the point of this post is. A friend and I just somehow landed on this subject recently. (Could it be the fact that a female coworker of his offered him her "tight Asian pussy?"—those were her actual words.)
Anyway, draw your own conclusions. And, remember, flattery will get you everywhere.
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