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.