Poll for Infohawk!
This article was linked to in OT in the poll. I wanted to post it here:
"GAY-OK!"
John Hargrave
4/06/2004 3:46 pm
I've written before about my horrible experiences in the men's shower at the gym where I work out. Since it's one of those open, communal, prison-like shower cells, I hate showering with anyone else -- but somehow I always end up naked next to co-workers, my boss, Tom Brokaw, etc. It's very uncomfortable.
Last night, I went into the shower to find an entire college rugby team. I cannot believe my terrible luck. There were at least a dozen muscular young lads, whooping it up, throwing soap at each other, and so forth. It was like the opening scene for a gay porno, it really was. And then I found myself actually regretting that I was not gay, because how great would that be? This would have been some serious eye candy here, and possibly an opportunity for a date.
As I lathered up as discreetly as possible, surrounded by naked and sculpted boys, I found myself getting angry at the gays. How lucky are they? I mean, total access to sexy situations. I can't just walk into a women's locker room and start soaping up, at least not without the aid of expensive prosthetics. That's not fair. The gays have all the fun, which is why they're called "gay."
Listen, gayfolk: we may not let you marry each other, but you get to ogle all the hot guys/gals you want, at any time. Don't get married ... just join a gym! Just not my gym, because I've got enough problems in the shower already.
So my shower was growing increasingly uncomfortable, and not just because the 12 or 13 hardbodies were using all the hot water. Then this Norse god walked in -- he must have been the captain of the rugby team, or possibly the inventor of rugby -- with an exquisitely crafted body, and a face that made Orlando Bloom look like he fell asleep on a stove. As all guys do, I shot a glance downward when I thought he wasn't looking.
For a second, I thought he had a midget walking in front of him. I mean, the thing was like an elephant's trunk. I expected it to reach out, grab hold of some leaves and branches, and stuff them in his mouth. I quickly turned away, the image burned in my brain. I feared that at any moment, the thing would curl around my neck like one of Doc Ock's arms.
So there I was, surrounded by more penis than I will hopefully ever see again in my life, and I thought to myself: so unfair. Why am I not gay? Why do I not like the ass sex? This could have been one of the happiest moments of my life, and instead I wanted to escape from The Rugby Team and the Jump Rope Dong, which incidentally was one of my favorite children's books.
Look: I'm not choosy. Bisexual would work, too. But nooooo. Mr. Happily-Married Heterosexual can't allow himself to be attracted to the menfolk. Clearly, I've got issues.
John Hargrave, the King of Dot-Comedy, is an author and performer who still can't bring himself to appreciate Michelangelo's "David."