What Gay Means to Me

I am gay.  We all know this as a fact…well…I would hope we all know this as a fact by now.  I mean, I guess there could be a few folks out there still “holding out” to see if I don’t succumb to the pressures of being an Indian-American man, born to my parents with the hopes and dreams of one day starting a family with a nice, loving wife and beautiful children.  Well I can confirm that those hopes and dreams flew right out the window when I was 15 and realized that I could bust a nut in 10 seconds while looking at penis shots on the old net, but couldn’t manage to come close to finishing while staring at nude shots of Pamela Anderson.  And still it took me 9 more years to utter those eternal words…”I’m…bi-sexual!”  Which of course a few months later turned into “I’m so fucking gay!”  Hey…baby steps right?

Well today of all days has put me in the reflecting and reminiscing mood.  Why?…you may ask?  Because there’s still a chance…right now…in this day and age of 2000 and fucking 9…that my partner and I could have our basic, basic…and let me repeat that…basic domestic partnership rights stripped away with one filling in of an empty hole… no not that…I mean the voting process perverts!  “Protect Our Families” is the opposing side’s slogan against Ref. 71…because let’s face it…all faggots and dykes are evil and seek to indoctrinate anyone and everyone we can into our sadistic, blasphemous ways…especially young children.  I can’t tell you how many nights Shawn and I have stayed awake til 3am plotting how many kids we can force into a trip to Fagopolis.  Every Friday we go over our quota…”Babe…how many this week?  I got 5!”

When will the opposing side learn that being gay is NOT a choice.  Like…do they understand how chafed and blistered my hands and dick got by trying my damndest to cum while watching 2 ladies go at it?  I fucking TRIED people!!!  I really did…for like 9 years.  Even dove into the muff a few times too.  And then there was this time I took shrooms at a rave at old Naf Studios…and when I got back to my fraternity I swear I thought I was “cured” because nothing sounded hotter than Jessica Biel wet and naked.  That lasted about as long as the shrooms did…WhaWha.

When I finally figured it out…thank you “Brokeback Mountain”…I was so scared and nervous I almost wet myself everytime I envisioned telling someone…especially my straight guy friends.  I could just envision them thinking…”Well did Vik have a crush on ME?”  Luckily this wasn’t the case…and if it was…I did not hear about it…and you are a douchebag…because the last thing that would ever turn me on would be getting it on with a brother…and that is how I viewed all of my straight guy friends.  There!…I said it!…I never wanted to fuck any of you!

But do you see where I’m going with this folks?…why would anyone choose a life where they could possibly lose friends and family…and face discrimination and persecution almost everywhere in the world.  That’s a no fun, yah?  Once I was able to tell my friends and family…it took me even longer to finally be PROUD of who I was.  Cuz I am PROUD that I am gay.  I’d rather it be me than some other poor soul whose parents have kicked them out to the curb, or whose friends have ostracized them.   I am proud that I can talk openly and freely about it and not be ashamed.  Because that’s what we need…the more of us that put it out there…the more the opposing side will realize we’re not all a bunch of pedophile freaks.  Gay is me…and for some…gay is you.  And that means gay is beautiful, funny, loving, everywhere, everyone and anyone.  And me…we can throw in fabulous, amazing, awesome, ridiculously handsome, and wittier than Dave Chappelle and Wanda Sykes love child.  But we all know THAT would never happen…because Sykes is a dyke!  Whoo Whoo!

“Babe…that puts me at 6!”

APPROVE REFERENDUM 71 BITCHES!!!  Brown out.

A New Religion

Alright bitches…brown is back. I know it’s been a while since I’ve expressed myself literally, and I’m sure you all have been waiting with baited breath…because let’s face it…I’m just that good. So let’s get started…

As I sit here pondering where my life has taken me since my last literary masterpiece…which I believe may have been about enlarged prostates and Flomax…from 30,000 feet in the air…cramped coach seat…oh…and a goddamn crying baby 2 rows behind me…hold up. Question for all of you…or more so…my friends with children. So there is an empty seat next to me…and earlier as passengers were boarding…I saw said child and her parents walking towards my row. A wave of panic came over me, envisioning the next 6 hours in the air with a hysterical child right next to me. So I ask you…in the event of the scream box being by my side, was it utterly disgusting of me to actually consider feigning being a pedophile just so they would think otherwise than to sit by me? I mean nothing inappropriate, but ya know…maybe just a quick trip to the bathroom to shave my stache into a tiny little perv patch and maybe a bite of my lip as they pass by?…ok ok…not that there’s anything good or funny about pedophilia, cause there’s not. But I’m just saying…not a bad idea huh??…I digress…fucking kids…

Ok, so back to the matter at hand. When one thinks of religion…what first comes to mind? For me it’s death and destruction, or worse, cults and their leaders. And more importantly…their “followers”…but hey…that’s just me. So let’s run with that.

Religion…for me…brings to mind images of those freaky Manson girls holding hands and singing as they skipped down the courtroom hallway to face multiple murder charges…or a bunch of dead bodies covered by sheets with only their white sneakers sticking out…belonging to those that thought they were going to leave Earth on that Hale Bopp comet…and can we take a moment to realize what a fucking ridiculous name that is? Hale BOPP…makes me think…Bop IT!…Twist IT!…Pull IT!

But man…you have to give it to their leader…he really had those fuckers convinced…he even had all the dudes chop off their balls. You have to wonder how he came up with that whole mission of mass suicide to hop aboard a comet. I can just see him behind a big old wooden desk…in his white robe…tapping his dip feather pen thinking…it has to be this…or we must hitch a ride on the READING RAINBOW!

So anyways…where am I going with this you must be wondering? Ok…so I attended a rather large Indian wedding a few months ago. I usually do not necessarily enjoy these functions as it has become standard practice now to pass over any detail of my life that would indicate my love of the cock…because let’s face it folks…I love it…what can I say.

I must grin and bear it as all of my mother’s long time friends come up to me and tell me (in Indian Auntie voice)…”Oh little Vikki…yoo arre soooo grroown uuup! Ven arre yoo going too finde a nice Indian gerl too marry??”

I wonder what they would say if I told them I have…and that her name is Shawn…and she’s white…and has a penis?

Anyways…as I walked through the hallways of the hotel conference center to the ballroom…I was stopped by an old family friend. A truly nice Indian woman in her 30s that I’ve grown up with…our parents being friends for years. And if you’re reading this…I mean no offense whatsoever. ☺

So she stopped me…and I say hello…and she says hello. I ask how she’s doing…blah blah blah. She says she’s doing well…and then there is an uncomfortable pause…and then she goes…”Soooo…I’ve been following you on Facebook…(dot dot dot)…” I smile and say…”Oh that’s nice”…and in my head I think is this your roundabout way of telling me you know I’m a fag? Cuuuuuz…I don’t hide that shit in my normal life…these “Indian Evenings” are the only time I don’t discuss my personal life. Otherwise I’ll plaster that shit across a mutherfucking billboard in Times Square if I could. One word, one image bitches…TEABAG.

So we engage in some more polite conversation…and then I head on my merry way toward the ballroom…when once again…I’m stopped by an old family friend…another Indian girl in her 30s…and if you’re reading this, I mean no offense whatsoever. ☺

So she stopped me…and I say hello…and she says hello. I ask how she’s doing…blah blah blah. She says she’s doing well…and then there is an uncomfortable pause…and then she goes…”Soooo…I’ve been following you on Facebook…(dot dot dot)…” I smile and say…”Oh that’s nice”…and in my head I’m thinking…is another person finding a roundabout way to tell me they know I practice buggery? Cuz I do…a lot…like just call me Vikbuggered Choprass.

So we engage in some more polite conversation…and then I head on my fairy way toward the ballroom. I make it this time!…yessss…and take my seat with my wonderful sister and mom. 10 hours later the ceremony is only halfway over…so we get up to get a drink. My sister and her friend ditch me for lady time in the bathroom, so I go to the bar and order a glass of white wine…I don’t think the bartender hears me properly…as he hands me a glass of PINK zinfandel…awesome. Cuz if there’s one thing a dude carrying a glass of pink wine doesn’t scream…it’s FAG!!!!

As I sip on my surprisingly delicious pink zinfandel…the sister of the first Indian woman in her 30s approaches me. Another lovely Indian girl…in her 30s…and if you’re reading this, I mean no offense whatsoever. ☺

I say hello…and she says hello. I ask how she’s doing…blah blah blah. She says she’s doing well…and then there is an uncomfortable pause…and then she goes…”Soooo…I’ve been following you on Facebook…(dot dot dot)…” I smile and say…”Oh that’s nice”…and in my head I’m thinking…is this seriously ANOTHER person finding a roundabout way to tell me they know I’m an ankle grabber? Cuz I am…Shawn Johnson’s got nothing on my queer flexibility…just call me Mary Lou Bendin’ (Over).

The conversation ends and she leaves…but I stand there for a moment and think. Following you…following…followers…(cock)…follow me…religion has followers…GOD has followers. Am I a mutherfucking god?…like if I was Ray in Ghostbusters and Gozer asked me if I was a god…could I tell the mohawked demon dyke…YES I AM BITCH!!!!

Nah…I’m no god just little old me. But maybe all of us on Facebook and Twitter ARE! Each of us has “followers”…we preach our sermons (status updates and tweets)…is social networking a new religion??? Didn’t see that one coming did ya? Pretty deep huh?

Well if it IS…come follow me into MY heaven bitches…filled with Britney Spears, Adam Lambert and Lady Gaga…where everyone is gay and religion really doesn’t matter…but just don’t follow too close…I may have to bend over…TEE HEE…(twinkle twinkle bitches). Brown out.