Friday, December 10, 2010

Why Brock is Gayer than Daniel Tosh

Finally blog #2. Don't forget to love and hate me afterwards and fan this shit on Facebook.

      About 9 years ago, my friends started hanging out at a local gay bar. Not because they were gay, but it was by far the nicest bar in town. On top of that, the girls felt comfortable because the guys didn't drive them nuts and they could dance there. Naturally, the same way "ladies' nights" work, all of us guys followed. I happened to enjoy this bar. It was absent of the kind of guys the girls were getting away from and to be honest, I hate douchebags too.
      Now, I have many gay and lesbian friends. I support them in any way I can. I will vote for any and all equal rights that come up. I use the same argument that most people do. "It is not a choice. Who in the fuck would choose to endure a life of bullshit by fucktards and rednecks?" Now, guess who, of all the people to go against this very argument are? Answer: Gay People. Let me show you what these two paragraphs have to do with each other.
     I have been told that as soon as I walk into a gay bar, I am known to be straight. I walk a little different, talk a little different, dress like shit, and usually have one eyebrow. Now, I do not find many lesbians attractive and you think the same would work for gays. Nope. As soon as they see a straight boy walk in the door it is game on. We are then subjected to the most aggresive "come ons" ever. There are a couple reasons for this.
1. Most straight guys get freaked out by this. It is funny to see them squirm. And truthfully, we are in their territory.
2. There is the slim chance that a straight boy may take them up on this offer. Unlikely to happen, but worth a shot.
     This leaves guys like me stuck in the middle. And like a shit sandwich, it stinks. You try not being a homophobe and telling a queer to quit grabbing your balls. Doesn't work. You would think explaing that you are straight would give the message. Not even close. You just hear "ooh, I can change you" over and over and over again.
     Which brings us to the story. This story usually comes up when one of my friends does something that could be perceived as gay, and quickly tries to put it on me. "Wha, wha, what about the time? Brock? and a drag queen?"  So here is the story. Not too funny, but worth retelling.
     Bubby and Sissy's has a weekly drag show on Saturday nights. You crowd in a room, get drunk, and try to act comfortable as you can while men in dresses push their nonbuxom on your face. You then tip them for this and order shots. I happened to become pretty cool with a butchy dyke who worked the upstairs bar at that time. Behind this bar there was an employee only bathroom. More specifically, a drag queen only bathroom. For some reason, I was the only straight boy allowed to use this bathroom whenever I wanted. One particular Saturday, I was drunker than normal. Drunk to the point where I was just rambling on to the dyke and pretending she loved me. I had to pee. I went to MY bathroom. A drag queen inbetween songs saw me head that way. Followed me and came right in. "Well hello," I said. "Hello." Our eyes met and i noticed it was a man. I really had to pee so I just decided, fuck it, I am pissing. While I was in midstream, the DQ decided to have fun with me. He/she started undressing me. It started with my shirt, slowly pulling it off of me. This complicated my pissing, but like a soldier, I carried on. The next step was for the thing to stand behind me, rubbing my chest and talking into my ear. There are about 2 ways to handle this. I could either freak out and look like a douchebag or go try to freak him out. I went with freak him out. I stood there shirtless and drunk, with my dick hanging out and somehow I didn't slur. I got the words out "Are you going to suck that motherfucker? Or are you just going to play with it all day?" This worked very well. I have never in my life seen such a strange look of disgust. This was my goal. He stood there with his hands up, palms out like someone stepping away from a shitty diaper. I then heard "You are fucking gross," and he left. I was happy and put dick away and cleaned up. This was going to be a funny story to tell until I walk out of the bathroom to realize that all of my friends were standing there. They had just seen a DQ run out of the bathroom horrified and me following carrying my shirt in my hand. Weird indeed.
     This might not be my best story, but I hoped it entertained a bit. Send me feedback and tell your friends
Sorry again for not proofreading this shit. Im at work and doing the best I can. Don't complain


  1. Your blogs are entertaining as hell, dude.

  2. Nice maneuver. I've taken the same road a few times...sometimes it works, sometimes your bluff gets called. Either way, it's ballsy and deserves respect ;)