Pucker Up

I was sitting around a few weeks ago, and I was told by a couple of extraordinarily hot women that if I want to see lesbian kissing, I need to kiss another man. Kinda funny, since 9 out of every 1000000 women actually get off from watching ghey menz. Either they were a part of the shocking minority, or they were just a couple of heartless bitches who wanted to humiliate two perfectly reasonable men with promises of lesbian action.

Now, with a guy like me, I'm not really into the whole 'lesbian' thing.... at least with porn. It's pretty cool once in a while. Sometimes I'll hit that mood where I'll want something different from the usual ( ), and I'll click on a link that contains two bi-curious females.

That day was just one of those days. I was in the mood for watching a carpet-muncher makeout session. So, of course, I agreed to the terms. I mean, it couldn't be any more convenient! I didn't even have to turn on a computer. Or a woman, for that matter. But hey, not much else is new. Of course, the hard part isn't so much getting two women to make out in front of you in exchange for some guy-on-guy kissing. What's hard is finding another guy who's willing to hold up his end of the bargain.

This is why I was looked upon as if I were the queerest queer in all of Queerland after my hasty agreement. I mean, you would think that I would be seen as something of a hero for showing those dykes up. Think you can promise me a boner-inducing makeout with another chick by making a seemingly impossible deal? Think again, bitch.

Not only did I find another guy who was just as secure with himself as I was, but we actually followed through and sealed the deal with a passionate kiss.

Not really my thing, though. His face was too stubbly for my liking, and his lips weren't the full, cocksucking lips I'm used to....... on a woman. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either. Tasted like chicken.

To my shock, the girls weren't interested in making out with each other at all. Instead, they kinda walked away. I guess this was just their way of telling me to piss off. Now, what really got me angry wasn't so much that I was just owned by a couple of cold-hearted twats. I'm used to rejection. I mean, take a good look at me. This isn't exactly the face of success. But the fact that everybody immediately just assumed I was gay really frosts my cupcake.

I do lots of manly things. I wrestled in high school, took my steamy group showers, and watch hardcore anal porn in the comfort of another guy's home. How much more straight can I possibly get?

But no, it seems that if I shave with pink razors, listen to Kylie Minogue, and fuck other men up the ass, I'm suddenly gay. What's really weird is this:

Apparently, pink is the new color for men.

I have no idea how this became popular, but if you spike the front of your head Something-About-Mary-style and prance about town in a tight pink shirt, you're mainstream. Think I'm wrong? Just drop by the local high school where MTV films all of their quality programs. You'll see what I'm talking about. If anybody tried doing that twenty years ago, they would have totally gotten their ass thoroughly kicked by Ralph Macchio.

The truth is, I'm not gay. I don't have sex with other men. Why should I feel emasculated if I drink Smirnoff Ice and buy women's razors? So I like the light flavorful taste of Smirnoff, and nothing gets closer than a good razor built for women's legs. The fact is, nobody even knows what's 'gay' anymore, apart from an all-male fellatio party and Sponge from Salute Your Shorts.

I'm serious about that. Look it up.

The bottom line is, women, if you promise to make out with another chick in exchange for a couple of losers making out with each other, please follow through. Sometimes, we all just need to be a little gay.

Uploaded 11/22/2008
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