The Last Of The Heterosexuals

by Regis Boff

Men love other men more unconditionally than we love women. It is a woman’s charms, their faces, breasts, legs, etc., followed closely by the phantom prediction of a long life without children that draw us to them and eventually away from each other.
The dread of life without children is why homosexuals stayed so hidden. That and being randomly beaten up and losing Hollywood jobs to Clint Eastwood. If letting them marry is all we have to do to help them have families then shame on us for not doing so.
If drunk, I find it tricky to spot a true heterosexual anymore. It is possible that all women are lesbians in my mind. They get along too suspiciously well. Certainly all married women over forty are gay, and no one could convince me otherwise.
Observing myself watching football with my male friends, it often occurs to me that buggering them might be slightly less awkward.
All the prominent homosexual kingdoms, Greece, Rome, and Brooklyn, understood all this too well. But could they do little about it because the Bible underlined with red markers that the species had to come first. It is not pleasant to be on the wrong side of the Bible.
AIDS put the dampers on “Broadway”. We lost a lot of beauty because of that disease. I bet it decimated whole seasons of “Netflix”.
The homophiles are running free amongst us now. I am wearing more black. It is slimming.
I do want to curtail the activities of gay men somewhat. Drizzle should not be the condition of hysterical panic that gay weathermen would have you believe. I want grizzled NFL linebacker weathermen suggesting that a little water is not going to kill me. I am sick of rushing to Home Depot to buy candles and generators.