“But wouldn’t it be lovely if we could reclaim our lost community, our arts and our skills, of our own initiative, in response to our collective boredom. For starters, we need to take some responsibility for our own history, for conveying it to our young. It is not nostalgia. If one is going to go to all the trouble to be gay, one ought to do a more interesting and useful job of it. Models exist in our very recent past. They should be recalled.”—Eric Michaels, Unbecoming: an AIDS Diary
“The experiences of Camp are based on the great discovery that the sensibility of high culture has no monopoly upon refinement. Camp asserts that good taste is not simply good taste; that there exists, indeed, a good taste of bad taste…The discovery of the good taste of bad taste can be very liberating. The man who insists on high and serious pleasures is depriving himself of pleasure; he continually restricts what he can enjoy; in the constant exercise of his good taste he will eventually price himself out of the market, so to speak. Here Camp taste supervenes upon good taste as a daring and witty hedonism. It makes the man of good taste cheerful, where before he ran the risk of being chronically frustrated. It is good for the digestion.”—Susan Sontag, ‘Notes on Camp.’
Q: I told some people. I did. I came right out and told them…but I feel like the only gay person on Earth. I’ve seen enough Bravo to know this isn’t the case. How do I make gay friends?
A: The easy answer is a gay bar. Most cities of even passable population will have one. However, going out regularly to the bars and engaging in clandestine meetings will get people talking. The first time you go to a gay bar, pay attention to the people there. At least one person will seem to know everyone and flit about greeting everyone in their path. Meet this guy. Tell him you’re new to town or the scene and feed him a line or two about how popular he seems. Inform him that he must be very cool as a result. he’ll be so flattered he might chat you up for a few minutes and possibly introduce you to like-minded sorts after getting a feel for you. If he is really, really popular you might have to fuck him before provide much assistance. Either way, find a way to be his arm candy for a day and you’ll meet all the right people.
There is a catch to hanging out at the gay bar: spend a lot of time in a bar and it’s fairly likely you’ll become an alcoholic. Gay bars have a long, long history of making extremely strong drinks. Why, you ask? Let’s just say that a few martinis can drown a lot of internalized homophobia. Until the Internet blessed us with so many easy outlets for base desires, the bar served as the main social space for the gays. Hell, the entire gay social movement started in a bar. This is really no longer the case, but it can certainly still serve the surprisingly vanilla need for companionship and camaraderie.
The more difficult path, and the one least likely to get you sent to Betty Ford, is to be gay in everyday life and perfect your gaydar. First step: go and update your facebook status to say you’re interested in men. Nope, there is no excuse. I’ll wait. Ok, now, here’s an easy metric to find gay people on the street: they make eye contact in casual social settings. Straight people are notoriously bad at making eye contact with other dudes, so anyone who looks into your eyes a lot is either a homo himself or has lots of gay friends…either way it’s a win for you! In addition, the more people know of your rampant faggotry, the more likely they will pass along or introduce you to the gays. Indeed, being out in your everyday life will attract other gay men like condoms to anus’.
A word of warning: beware the uninitiated straight person saying “Oh my God you’re gay! I have a gay friend you just have to meet! I’ll set you up on a date.” That’s akin to saying “Woah, I know another man. You two will get along great.” If you’re desperate, by all means go ahead. Beware, though, that situation is often awkward and can harm your friendships.
Q: I’m officially converted. I am now gay. But I haven’t told anyone yet. Who should I tell? How should I tell them?
A: Well, now that you’re gay, I have some bad news—you are going to be coming out for the rest of your life. Every time you meet someone agreeable you are going to have to explain how you discovered your desire for dick. Indeed, one regular event when a group of gays are getting to know each other is the coming out story share—passé though it may be. Coming out in an exciting and original way and crafting a brilliant story around it are essential tools for gaining entry into gaysville. In order to assist you, following are examples of bad coming out stories and good ones:
I wrestled with being gay for a long time. When I was in college I fooled around with a guy, but I didn’t come out for a while after. My parents might be cool about it if I ever tell them. Are you out to your parents?
I mean, I’m gay, but I don’t really have a coming out story. I’m just out. I don’t normally hang out with other gay people…I also don’t really date. Everyone just knows and we don’t really care. Look, uh, can we talk about something else?
OMG so I figured out I was gay when I was, like, thirteen or something. My mom kept catching me with her heels on and one day I just realized “omg, I’m gay!” I immediately told my best friend who was, like, “duh!” Then I told my mom and dad and all my friends and we totally laughed about how silly it was to think they didn’t already know. He he. Isn’t that hilarious?
Whatever, bro, I’m straight. Wanna come over?
Well you see, when I was in high school I was on the swim team and friends with the boys on the soccer team. One day my captain—oh captain, my captain—and the hottest guy on the soccer team told me they had something to show me and took me into the locker room. Faster than you can say “porn plot” we all had our clothes off and they took turns sucking me off. That’s when I really knew I was gay. I told my best friend the next day—it was quite the scandal, you know—and the rest is history!
I came out when I was ten. Yes; really. Well I was watching the Real World—San Francisco and they had this character Pedro who was gay. He died shortly after the show aired and between his news coverage and the famous “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” legislation passing, the TV did a very good job explaining what gay was. I found I had quite the knack for “explaining” what being gay meant to my friends. It certainly made boy scouts entertaining.
I need semen to survive, so I figured this was the best way to get it. Speaking of which, I’m getting hungry…
Whatever, bro, I’m straight. Wanna come over?
Do you see the difference between the good and bad stories? Bad stories make you look needy, insecure, or not completely out yet. Bleh—not sexy. Good stories have a bit of an edge to them—something naughty that happened around the time you came out. Hardly anyone comes out without some external, ahem, impetus, so be sure it’s a good one.
If you’re having trouble coming up with a good tale or if, by fortune’s grace, you had a perfectly dull and easy coming out story, it’s okay. The most important thing is to tell someone. If you’re terrified to tell someone you know, tell a friendly stranger. Walk in to your local truck stop restroom and shout “I’m gay” to the first person that stands next to you at the urinal. Paint your face with rainbows and go to church Sunday morning. Tell the cute boy who works the checkout line at the grocery store while he’s scanning your unusually large pile of squashes. There are so many ways to come out and be gay and only one way to mess it up: ignoring your impulse to come out, getting married, having children, and otherwise burying yourself in normativity. Seriously—stop being such a pussy and just tell someone. Right now.
A: By this point you should have experienced the great rush of understanding that you are, indeed, one hundred percent, grade A queer. You may have the yearning to start shouting your faggotry from the rooftops or at least to call your mother, but you’re scared. You have huge, veined, throbbing butterfly wings trapped in your cocoon that are threatening to burst at any moment. An enormous change is nearing and you are completely ill-prepared. So I’ll tell you. Sit down for this one. You should take all your straight-clothes out in the backyard and burn them. This mandate does not include tailored suits or anything made from linen. Everyone knows straight men can’t dress themselves, so you should start out fresh.
Next, abandon all pursuits of heterosexuality. Take a moment to ponder your fall from vanilla grace, if you must, but make sure to do it private—it’s unbecoming to outwardly bemoan that hideous home in the suburbs with a white picket fence you’ve been fantasizing about. While you’re weeping over your replica jersey remember that if you cry onto it enough and then put in the dryer, you’ll have a scandalous Halloween costume after it shrinks. Here are some things that, upon leaving the sick and twisted life of the straights, you will never have to do or say again and what you will replace them with.
The principle behind [talking about gayness as loudly and often as possible] is simple: almost any behavior begins to look normal if you are exposed to enough of it at close quarters and among your acquaintances.
—Marshall K. Kirk and Erastes Pill, “The Overhauling of Straight America”
Those pushing the Gay Agenda do not have the right to impose their chosen lifestyle on the rest of society. If left unopposed, their efforts to mainstream the lifestyle will annihilate the family as we know it.
—Dr. Ronnie W. Floyd, The Gay Agenda
Beverly Sutfin: You Can’t Wear White After Labor Day!
Juror: That’s not true anymore.
Beverly: Yes it is. Didn’t your mother tell you? Now you know.
[Beverly hits juror with phone receiver]
Juror: No! Please! Fashion has changed!
Beverly: No…it hasn’t.
[Beverly hits juror again and kills her]
Much like poor juror number eight, all of those not associated with the christian right are feeling the pain of believing that fashion can change. We are told time and time again not to wear the white shoes of gay marriage after Labor Day, and we just don’t listen. Fortunately, we have opposition like Bever…ahem…Ronnie Floyd, author of The Gay Agenda to stop us in our tracks from the northwest corner of Arkansas—center of the world! How can it be that we have been committing such an egregious error without even noticing, only to find ourselves maimed and killed at the hands of the arbiters of taste? What the hell is this gay agenda that keeps appearing and stirring up trouble? Have a seat, son, and I’ll tell you.
In 1987, as AIDS stormed queer America and President Reagan insisted it didn’t exist, an article threatening to overhaul straight America hit the press. It contained a six step outline to getting dense heteros to stopping hating homos. Naturally, it was followed by a book (After The Ball: How America Will Conquer Its Fear & Hatred of Gays in the 90’s) two years later. This article and book compose what we now hear so-last-season Baptist ministers complaining about across the United States. Gays getting married will lead us down slippery slope of multiple spouses, bestiality, and child molestation. The modern nuclear family that has existed for such a long time—since World War II ended—is totally threatened by us crazy faggots reinventing things again. We already have hairdressing, theater, and fraternities to ourselves—why not leave those silly breeders to their own devices? Because the legal deals tied up in marriage are just too good to let pass. And nothing pulls a faggot off the street like a good bargain. And so the gay agenda appeared with its six and later eight point agenda to save us all…until we forgot about it. So, without further ado, here is The Gay Agenda, circa 1990:
1. Don’t just express yourself: communicate!
2. Appeal to the ambivalent skeptics.
3. Keep talking about gayness.
4. Keep your message focused: the issue is homosexuality.
5. Portray gays as victims, not as aggressive challengers.
6. Give potential protectors a just cause.
7. Make gays look good.
8. Make victimizers look bad.
Scary, huh? Now, let us go into detail with each point, just to make sure you didn’t try to skim that list over, you silly queen.
Don’t just express yourself: communicate! The authors believe that dressing in sequins and huge wigs and holding public parades is a terrible idea. We should instead wear nicely tailored, conservative suits, sit down the boys and girls who only love the other gender, and tell them gay people…are ok! Since they’re going to immediately vomit on the floor, make sure to set buckets out.
Next, we must appeal to the ambivalent skeptics! Let’s say you tell someone that being gay is alright and they don’t immediately gouge their eyes out. Instead, they say: I think you’re full of shit, but I feel the same way about Mormons and still give them a minute to proselytize—do go on. Now’s your chance to win over their heart and mind with the message that gays are people just like you and me. Say it with me! Gays are just like straight people! These people need to be desensitized to the idea that gay people are terrible, slutty creatures who only care about sex, poppers, and fashion. Ok, once they are listening to your talk of liberal-hippie-ideals…
Keep talking about gayness. That’s right—talk about it and talk about it and talk about it and talk about it until everyone is bored out of their minds. Talk about it so much that you seem as tragic, common, and lacking in interesting conversation topics as the straights already are. Strip people of their ability to care enough about hating gays to just lie back on the couch and say: “Ok. Ok. Enough! I don’t want to hear about how utterly common gayness is—I just want to watch The View. Please go away now; you win.”
But don’t take that victory to heart, misguided activist! You must stay focused in these efforts and speak only of gay rights. Do not be perceived as a liberal. Do not be perceived as a vegan. Do not be perceived as a socially conscious fashionista, even. Be perceived only as a gay person. Dress like a straight person, talk like a straight person, and gently prod them with one goal, not all goals. Don’t dare associate yourself with other maligned groups—the outcasts never win if they work together. It never happened in feel-good 1980’s summer camp comedies and it won’t happen now. We’ll never be mainstream enough to be allowed into suburban Tupperware parties if we do that. Seriously. Stop it.
Now that you’ve divorced yourself from all other causes and interests and you are just…gay…it’s time to submit to straight people and encourage them to take the role of protector…you know—like a daddy/son relationship. “I’ll be a good boy, I promise. Just please protect me, daddy. Now I’m gonna bend over nice and slow for you to tie my shoes!” This is portraying yourself as the weak victim. Lesbians should, of course, be set out as the ultimate victims—women with no men to watch over them—yikes! Put them on the TV (Ellen, Rosie, etc.), and let the lack-of-previous-misconceptions-granted-by-no-one-caring-about-women take hold all by itself. Make sure we all know that gays are victims of circumstance—i.e., we didn’t choose to be gay and victims of prejudice. While playing the victim, you should stifle any snippets of queerdom that might try to sneak out. The authors of the gay agenda say it best: “…march, if you must, but don’t parade,” (Kirk 186).
Once you have let straight society adapt to its role of protectors, give them something valuable to protect—an antidiscrimination platform. This achieves two things. It lets the straights engage polite society by saying that it’s not nice to harass gay people without having to actively befriend any. Try to capture the look of a starving African child on one of those ministry-based infomercials. “For only $5 a day you can make sure this poor faggot puts away his tailored wool suit and takes his chance at claiming a stake in hetero America!” This method also assures that no one has to actually argue for gays or, heaven forbid, promote their strengths…they can take the easy road and just make sure no one’s hurt. “Oh, those poor pole-smoking, butt-pirate dears. It’s really not nice when people kill them…as long as they stay in New York.”
Next: make gays look good. Instead of portraying us as the “shadowy, lonesome, frail, drunken, suicidal, child-snatching misfits,” we clearly are, make gay people seem positively wholesome (Kirk 188). Someone you like and admire. You know that badass leather daddy who takes nightly pisses on stranger’s heads while smoking cigars? Yeah, I’m not talking about him. Nor am I talking about the 6’4” drag queen in foot-tall stilettos and an immense beehive. Her sequins are lovely and all, but pretend you don’t know her—publicly at least. The gay people you are looking for are the squares—those whose folds are always even, their hair impeccable, their houses well-decorated, and the ones who are so gosh-darn nice you can’t help but ask for a good quiche recipe. Forget all about the drag queens, fairies, faggots, freaks, and frolickers who will never live up to the stepford fag image. Well try anyway, if you can keep from gagging.
Last, but certainly not least—and actually still valid—make victimizers look bad. Anyone who hates gays, such as Reverend Fred Phelps, should be put to shame…but pick someone whom might take some effort to shame. Start a rumor that anyone who calls someone else a fag should take a good, long look in the closet mirror. Make sure that being publicly sighted making fun of gay people deems you a social outcast—or worse, a santorum-lover. Make sure anything that makes gay people look bad seems straight out of Deliverance—backwards, unsightly, and isolated.
As much as I say nasty things about the Gen X gay agenda, it was totally relevant and much of it came to pass. Positive, family values lesbians are all over the media. Wealthy, opera loving, and completely uninteresting asexual queers get sitcoms. RuPaul has been completely pushed off VH1, Divine is dead, and Chi Chi Larue only makes HBO appearances as “Larry.” We’re saved! Gay people are all suit-wearing normies who never, ever take part in meth-fueled bare backing orgies. Whew—and I was beginning to worry for a second that polite society might learn what it is that we actually do. It seems the Gay Agenda successfully whitewashed our image.
A: Any way-past-its-prime neighborhood with magnificent architecture. Move in, paint the house in gaudy colors and cover it in flowers. Other gay people will pass by and say “My, what a lovely house! Honey, we should pick up the terriers and move here!” And then they will. Then they’ll tell all their fabulous gay friends about this lovely, out of the way Victorian-through-art-deco neighborhood. Pretty soon drag queens will overrun the streets, men will hold hands, people will exchange blow jobs as barter for construction jobs, and the property values will shoot through the roof! Beware, though, once this process is completed straights with children will come in to prove how edgy and liberal they are. They will put up a fuss about the poppers-and-meth-fueled backyard orgies, replace the mauve shutters with pale yellow, open straight bars, and otherwise yuppify the place. At this point, gay flight will occur and another defunct neighborhood will be gentrified. If you come across a nice-looking neighborhood, listen for the sound of masses of reinforced stilettos skittering away. If that sounds doesn’t come, you will know it’s safe to move in.
Q: Do I need a fag hag? Why would I want one? Shouldn’t I call this person a ‘fruit fly?’
A: Having a fag hag is only acceptable before the age of twenty-five or within your first year of coming out if it is past that time. Often your last girlfriend—who was probably homely anyway—will serve this function. Fag hags come in two forms: super-hot girls who often have gay siblings and fat, ugly girls with no self-esteem. Having a hot fag hag is the better of the two options. Though you still sublimate your affections in a non-threatening environment (i.e. cuddle but don’t fuck), hot fag hags have an easier time picking up hot guys for you.
Why, you ask? Because, as men, we are still simple creatures. When an attractive, well-dressed girl starts chatting up a gay boy, he will be flattered just long enough to inform her that he is, in fact, a cock smoking mo. A well-trained hag will hold out the flattery game long enough to introduce you: her equally attractive queer. They’ll already be so buttered up they will have no choice but to fall victim to your excellent taste in friends. They will immediately fall in lust with you.
The other kind of fag hag is much easier to obtain. Go to any gay cock|tail party and stick around until all the men have paired off to wherever. Now look around—only chain-smoking women with no shyness towards a good guffaw remain. A whole coven of hags. Chat one up and maybe buy her a pint of ice cream. You’ll be fast friends. This kind of fag hag will endlessly support your ego while secretly harboring an insane and unrequited crush on you. This will make them ceaselessly loyal and, since they have no prospects for dating themselves, a great crying shoulder when your flavor of the month runs sour. Caveat emptor: this type of girl may, after a long-enough partnership, attempt to sabotage your relationships. When this starts happening, it is time to scrap this last vestige of heteronormativity.
Finally, it is not ok to call this girl a fruit fly. Calling her a fag hag, which is an honorary title, serves two functions. First, it indicates that she is a beard and not some tragic, closeted attempt at avant-garde heterosexuality. Additionally, by calling even the hottest girl a hag, you are commenting on your attraction to women and not a particular woman’s attractiveness. No matter how bad-ass your hag is, she still serves a secondary role to the gay men—mostly because she cannot be objectified. How fun—using a slanderous term to indicate her lack of objectification without actually making a comment as to her appearance! It’s the equivalent of calling your nearest and dearest a fag. See how fabulous you’re becoming?
After [an episode of Will and Grace which harasses ‘ex-gays’] aired, Mike Haley, a former homosexual who works with John Paulk at Focus on the Family, sent the following letter to Jon Kinally, the executive story editor of Will & Grace:
Dear Mr. Kinnally:
I am writing to request a meeting with you regarding a recent episode of Will & Grace. The show in question grossly misrepresented thousands of individuals struggling to come out of homosexuality. As a former gay man, and now a national spokesperson and expert on homosexuality and youth issues for Focus on the Family—one of the country’s largest organizations, who, among other things, assists gays and lesbians who desire to be heterosexual—I know first-hand how frustrating and painful it is to be mocked by those who haven’t taken the time to find out what the process is all about. I’m specifically talking about references in the show to former homosexuals, and those wrestling with their sexual identity, as “freaks,” “self-loathing closet cases,” “morally wrong,” and as members of “cults.” Nowhere in this episode are we portrayed as honest men and women seeking help.
You may vehemently disagree with this position, but I’d at least like the opportunity to sit down and talk to you about it. Our conversation may not change your mind about the possibility of coming out of homosexuality, but at the very least it will put a real face behind the caricature you depicted on prime-time TV. And in the end, hopefully it will encourage you to think twice before ridiculing the belief systems of those who differ from you. With that in mind, please respectfully consider my request.
The last thing Mike received was respect, based on the reply on Will&Grace letterhead he received:
Dear Mr. Haley:
I received your letter dated June 9, and was very interested in your point of view. The issues you raised are the very same ones that we on the Will & Grace writing staff debate on a daily basis. Our decision to present the story on the ex-gay ministry was solely in the interest of creating the most comedic episode possible. And it was certainly not our intention to offend you in any way. But come on, Mike, even you’ve got to admit that fags trying to pretend they’re straight is pretty funny.
In response to your request for a meeting, well, I think I can read between the lines on that one. I’m about 6’1”, brown hair, green eyes, and I’m into rollerblading, baking cookies, and cleaning up afterwards. My dislikes include game-playing, negative attitudes, and condoms.
If any of this interests you, I can be found every Sunday at the Brunch and Beer Bust at the Motherlode in West Hollywood. I do hope you show, because like you, I am an expert on homosexuality, and in my expert opinion, this “hard-to-get thing” you’re playing is Hot, Hot, Hot!
”—Alan Sears and Craig Osten, The Homosexual Agenda
A: You know you’ve always been gay. When all the little boys in the school yard were discussing their plans for all the little girls—while carefully staying across the playground and playing tetherball—you were already popular with the girls, even to the point of knowing why boys were icky while somehow staving off that judgment yourself. You knew how to braid a friendship bracelet long before you could throw a football with a sufficient spiral. Hell, you were probably able to French braid hair before you could even tie your shoes. Do you know the words to Miss Mary Mack? My point exactly.
These feelings developed over time. If you were super-lucky and your parents let you have sleep-overs, you managed to convince all your little boy-friends to play strip poker and truth or dare. Assuming sufficient skill, there was much pubescent cock in your formative years. Group showers at Boy Scout summer camp? I think yes. Group showers with the soccer team? I think yes. Group showers at bible camp? I think yes. One of your coaches|leaders probably questioned the number of times you voluntarily hit the showers as your male peers rolled in the mud eschewing all cleanliness.
One of the super-special cases experienced by some young queers is secretly praying the little league coach would “give you a ride home” after practice. “Oh, don’t worry about me mom and dad. Coach butch will give me a ride!” You likely never expressed these feelings out loud, but oh did they happen. Oh yes. Especially if that cute high school boy from down the street with a brother your age helped coach your team. Wasn’t he dreamy? I thought so, faggot.
Even if you didn’t enjoy an especially raucous youth, you likely had a young-boy crush on one of your friends. There’s always one. You wanted to see him every day. You hung out, drank some juice, played dumb card games, and tried to get his shirt off at every opportunity. Then, when you were ten or eleven you took turns “measuring” each other or tried kissing. Ya know, for when you got a “girlfriend.”
Since then you’ve been taking too long at the gym showers, noticing the fit on men’s jeans when walking down the street, discovering your local park’s secluded corners that always seem to have people “hanging out,” and complimenting your friends on their fabulous haircuts. And you’re not even out yet! Isn’t it curious that somehow, with damning evidence piling up on all sides, that you evaded the obvious conclusion?
Sometimes a rough childhood keeps you in the closet. Sometimes the discreet head you get from the pool boy that secures him a hearty tip and quiets your demons keeps you there. Either way, at some point, for a variety of reasons, the Moment You Know comes and blasts glitter in your eyes. Here is a short list of possible things that cause this very memorable moment.
1) You’re on a date with a girl. She wants to go dancing at the gay club. You agree because, hey, you’re secure in your identity, right? Three drinks later you end up making out with a guy in the bathroom and score his phone number. Later, to save face, you call him and tell him he’s a faggot in front of your friends. In the middle of this glorious display of insecurity, everything clicks. Uh-oh.
2) While stumbling home drunk one night you see a drag queen in the street. You are strangely aroused and follow her home. As soon as your friends see you the next day they take one look and say “Oh shit, bro. You let a tranny suck your dick, didn’t you?” Busted.
3) You stay out late one night bitching with one of your buddies about how lame chicks are. Then, when you look into his eyes, you understand just how true those words are.
4) You finally let your curiosity about the local gay bar get the best of you and just go to check it out. You stay all night.
5) That pretty young thing from human resources insists there is something very, very interesting in the supply closet. You follow. You’re done for.
Do you see the common thread in these many possible scenarios? You are either drunk or otherwise caught off guard. You finally let your defenses down. If this repeatedly you suddenly find that you can’t blame the drinking. It all clicks and you find yourself reading this blog.
Q: Am I a top or a bottom? How can I tell? Do I have to choose?
A: This question produces much anal anxiety. You have to choose. You can never change. In fact, this needs to be decided before even setting foot in gay society. Here’s a handy diagnostic for you: when you see a hot guy do you look at his cock or ass first? No really; think about it for a second. If you said cock, you’re a big Nellie bottom. Pick up some Liza albums, practice your lisp, and stretch yourself out. If you said ass, you’re a top. You can actually admit this in public, so don’t stress it too much. You don’t have to change your behavior.
Once the decision is made, realize how life-changing an event it is. Assuming you chose bottom, first of all don’t tell anyone—it’s simply too embarrassing. Unless, of course, you are a power bottom or have taken something epic into your rectum in front of an audience. In that case it is considered a badge of honor. If you are lacking such an esteemed notch on your bed post, then you should learn to cook and clean and get ready to live life as a 1950’s housewife. Let anyone who wants access have it, and never wince when taking any sized cock as it makes you look like the pussy you really are.
Conversely, if you chose top, go to the head of the class! Even if you’re still a nancy, you reserve all your masculinity. Good for you! Make sure to inform people who spark your libido how much of a total, dominant top you are. If you portray any reticence or deference in public, everyone will think you a pansy and only the most insecure and introverted bottoms will ever let you slide in. Hit the gym, cultivate an aggressive stare and posture, and start using the word faggot a lot to describe those unfortunate enough to not be as manly as you.
I’m totally kidding! Had you scared there for a second, eh? If anyone seriously asks you this in a social/sexual setting simply roll your eyes, tell them how tragically retro they are, and move on. Don’t spend so much time with homonormative people. It will hurt your image. If anyone seriously asks, and you deign to, respond “I negotiate.”
At least, when you get old, you won’t look back on your life and say “If only I had lived!”
—A dear friend of mine named anonymous
Q: What do lesbians bring on a second date?
A: A U-Haul
Q: What do gay men bring on a second date?
A: What’s a second date?
One of the best ways to cultivate a sense of gay brilliance is to get laid. Often. By the hottest people you can find. In order to get your tricking merit badge, you must do the following things:
1) Have sex with someone you met that night at a gay bar. Bonus points if you get a dominant top to bottom.
2) Have sex with someone you met that night at a straight bar. Bonus points if you got him to ditch his girlfriend.
3) Have sex with someone you met in the bathroom.
4) Have sex with someone whose name you never knew.
5) Have scandal-causing sex and tell everyone about it.
6) Have sex with an 18 year old when you’re at least 25.
7) Have a wild encounter with someone who seems meek and mild. Tell everyone. Bonus points if you figured out how kinky they are before anyone else.
8) Have rough sex.
9) Have the cops called on you because you’re too loud.
10) Have sex with someone your best friend fucked last weekend.
11) Have sex in public.
12) Have sex with someone from another country.
13) Take someone’s gay virginity or—better yet—fuck a straight guy.
14) Take a drag queen home.
15) Have sex with someone who reads this blog.
Now, it’s worth noting that these things cannot be done all willy-nilly. If you lift your legs without proper poise, you’ll be branded a sleaze-fag and no one will want you. And that’s worse than death or polyester. In order to complete the checklist of stories that will horrify your siblings in your golden years, tact and grace must be employed with the people, the location, and, most importantly, the timing.
In order to find a good trick, walk into the bar and make a few rounds while pointing your nose ever so slightly into the air and making a genuine effort to look down on everyone who is trying to ignore your hotness. If someone looks you over from head to toe or smiles, look at them, give a coy smile, and keep on the rounds. There may be fifteen or a hundred more people who will do this, so it is best to case out all options. If they’re incredibly hot and wearing an atypical fabric, brushing past and copping a feel is permissible. By putting on that clothing, they fully expect a grope or two. They’re asking for it—1970’s rape-defense style.
After making the rounds and selecting the hottest person in the room, stand next to them and order a strong drink. Something that says: “I’m hot and wasted. Getting into my pants is easy.” Strike up a conversation employing the trick known as “assumed rapport.” Imagine that you’ve been in their pants a number of times and this you are now playing the game of opening them again. By portraying a confident vibe, you will score. Since practically everyone in the room was checking you out, it should not be too hard to assume this. Now is the time to forget all those filthy inclinations—except, of course imagining your cum on their face. That might make it easier. If you’re a bottom, make the face you will have when the same is done to you.
It is only appropriate to engage in wild tricking at a handful of times in any given calendar year. Anything else is tragic and tacky. The whole first year after you come out is fair game. This is a great time to sleep with straight people, as you can probably still visit heterosexual venues without glittered bile rising in the back of your throat. All those bad haircuts! Additionally, anytime you break up with anyone—no matter how brief a time you were dating—there is a sixty day window where sleeping with as many people as possible is permissible. Be wary if sleazy bar flies start cruising you towards the end of this period. That means you’re making an easy name for yourself and should stop immediately. Or start using the Internet.
Internet hookups, which can only be proffered using manhunt.net, craigslist, okcupid.com, or a small handful of fetish sites (including bear411 and the like), must be done discreetly. Gay.com is for old people and those with no self esteem. Your profile should be as honest as possible while still making you look good. For example, don’t put up a five year old picture of yourself and expect someone to happy when your aged and 100-pound heavier self strolls up to the door. Lying is not sexy. If you’re in your sixties, that’s fine! Maybe there’s a twenty year old gerontophiliac just waiting for your wrinkled testicles. Your game is only lost when you stop believing in it. However, it is also important to note that each site has its own set of users and a certain personal ad style.
Gay.com—The name you choose is mostly useless, as is the bio chosen before entering your local chatroom. Unless you have a debilitating fetish and require the cyber, master/servant, or similar rooms, choose the one closest to where you live. If you live in a large university town away from an urban area, the “[your state] college” room almost exclusively houses people from your city. Even if you don’t go to school there. When entering the chat room, refrain from chatting in the main window. Only people who come on every day can do this without raising collective eyebrows. When you find an agreeable mate for the evening, open a private message starting with a cheesy greeting: “hey, what’s up?” does wonders. They will almost invariably inform you that nothing is going on. If they’re total bastards or really bored, pleasantries will be exchanged for up to 3 minutes. After that, one party will ask the other “what are you into?” Don’t be fooled; this is a thinly veiled way of asking whether you’re a top or bottom. If you are so unwise as to truthfully disclose your interests, they will likely respond “oh cool,” or, if some unacceptable habit has been disclosed, stop talking to you altogether.
Actually, all of the rest are mostly identical. Manhunt and D-List have hotter boys (and D-List is mostly only relevant to New Yorkers), but conversations run the same as gay.com. OkCupid.com, however, is set up to actually meet people. After getting a profile there and when sending messages, remember that it permitted—nay, encouraged—to immediately jump into a complex conversation topic as detailed on the recipient’s profile. Remember: if you want to get laid, go manhunt. If you want real live friends, gym buddies, etc., go OkCupid.
Congratulations, Mary, you’re gay! Welcome to the greatest subculture in the world. Now that you were so wise as to come out, let’s clear up a few things:
1) Don’t tell your coming out story. It’s not very interesting. Everyone accepted you because when you say “I’m gay!” you really say “I’m more interesting and culturally relevant than you, so you couldn’t possibly criticize me or my ways.”
2) Take all your straight-clothes out in the back yard and burn them. This mandate does not include tailored suits or anything made from linen. Everyone knows straight men can’t dress themselves, so you should start out fresh.
3) Straight people serve no function anymore except seduction and conversion. Do not, under any circumstances, keep straight company. You’re only hurting yourself, dear.
Ok. Now that your straight-self fashion ashes are cooling out back, allow me to inform you of this book’s purpose. I am here to tell you how to be gay. You might think to yourself “Oh, I’ve totally seen every episode of Will and Grace and saw some gay people on the street. And my sister has a gay friend. I know everything I need to,” but you are gravely mistaken. You cannot walk into such refined company with fresh meat tattooed on your forehead and expect anything beyond creepy old men wanting to suck your dick and people you actually want to sleep with roll their eyes at your naivety. It’s ok. We’ve all been there. But once you learn the ins and outs of the culture, you can rule with a sequined fist.
And of course, by the culture, I mean gay culture. This blog is intended for you if you are gay. G-A-Y. Forget that LGBTQA nonsense—it rolls off the tongue about as nicely as herpes sore pus. That’s not to say that some of the alphabet soup can’t be appreciated. Trannies get enough harassment from the gender binary and its implications; don’t give them any more. Everyone knows bisexuals don’t exist. And allies are simply gay people who don’t get drunk enough at parties to be properly converted. Please don’t fall into the trap of political correctness. Dancing carefully along the lines of non-gay-offense leads to reticence, which is unbecoming. Besides, you laugh at the straights who struggle with gay society: “So, uh, which one of you is the woman in the relationship?” Don’t amplify it by playing their game. Be proud of your faggotry, and the rest will follow.
And then there are lesbians. For as long as gays and lesbians have been sharing space, they’ve been fighting an endless war for dominance. Fortunately, there are enough well-built Victorian homes in nice neighborhoods that we don’t need their practical skills and we have far more social prowess, so we will always come out on top. But beware, young queer, lesbian-gay fights can start at any time. Just him on them. Even thinking about cock makes them shrink back into the workshop…but more on that later.
This blog is all you’ll ever need. Once you read and take to heart all it tells you, the world will be your anus—ready to be filled with the seed of good taste. Your good taste. If you don’t read this book, only old closet queens will know of your good taste. And they’ll have to lick it off their mustaches.
This guide will tell you all the cultural history you need to know, tales of the greatest gay men who ever lived, old-school cruising and bathhouse culture, how the gay mafia works, all the best types of gay people to meet, how to refine your taste, how to be a part of the gay agenda, and even how to deal with lesbians (if they ever lay down their power tools for a moment)! I get hard just thinking about how hot you’ll be after you learn this. Alright, Mary! Put on your bouffant wig of wit, strap on your fierceness stilettos, and get ready for faggotry! Your mother will be so proud.