Forcing some facts down MAGA throats

 

Look, here's the thing.

There are gay men. They love other men, and they sometimes marry.
There are gay women. They love other women, and THEY sometimes marry.
And there are straight people of both "main" genders, they love the opposite sex, and yep, sometimes they marry.

Some of the aforementioned gay folks are celebrities of one sort or another. Music, acting, writing, etc.

Narrowing down on the writers, many writers today not only publish books, but maintain blogs, Facebook and Xitter accounts, Substacks, and more. When a person begins following that writers page, they have volunteered to be exposed to what that writer puts on that social media account.

So signing up to read posts from "Don'tCrossAGayMan" and then complaining because Misha regularly mentions his husband, and saying he is shoving his lifestyle down the complainant's throat. Because as soon as somebody signs up, Misha hacks their network so that they can ONLY see his homosexual, rainbow tinted, Twinkie posts, most of which are not gay specific, they're about being KIND.

FFS. Nobody dragged these people in. Nobody is sitting on them to keep them in the group. They did this shit THEMSELVES. And the writer isn't describing the blow job he gave his husband the night before. He simply mentioned that he HAS a husband.

I wish I was gay. I would totally shove it down people's throats. I would be the world's butchest Lesbian, wearing the teeshirt with the double female sign and sneering in disgust at every straight person or male person that I see, provided they are also a closed minded asshat MAGA jerk.

That would be loads of fun!

Racism in EVERYONE (especially ourselves), must be stamped out.

I thought I had erased all vestiges of racial prejudice from my brain, but I was wrong. Boy howdy, was I wrong. Turns out that I still have some FILTHY spots in myself that need major scrubbing and purifying.

I was watching Midnight Oil's video for Beds Are Burning. Much of it takes place in a town out in the desert, where the people are out having a good time dancing to the band's music in the street.

And there are these two girls, maybe 16 or 17 years old, absolutely stunningly beautiful in an 80s kind of way, and I said to myself: "I did not know that Indigenous People in Oz could be so attractive."

And I immediately facepalmed in disgust. That came out of fucking NOWHERE and broadsided me.

We may think we are the wokest of the woke, but depending on the culture when we were coming up, we may be carrying some really REALLY deep prejudices that need to be eradicated.

Clickety Clackety!

I have never been good at saving up my money for purchases. But there was one time, when I was about six years old...

Back in the late 60s or early 70s, I collected returnable bottles and turned them in for the 5 cent bounty, and saved my 25 cent a week allowance. I busted tail to buy a pair of clackers, and after several weeks of hard work and no penny candy from Max's Smoke Shop, I had the $1.49 I needed to buy my clackers. I knew which pair I wanted, too, gorgeous royal blue with gold glitter inside the balls.

So I trotted off to Woolworth's to buy my clackers.

And the shelf was filled with Nerf balls.

I asked the clerk where the clackers were, and was told that they had all been recalled, because they would shatter and glass would fly and hurt people.

Man, was I PISSED.

Ever since then, I have wanted a pair of clackers.

Looks like they're back, but with an acrylic ball instead of glass. So I ordered some.

Because the inner child MUST be placated.