Supplement to Point-Counterpoint: Gay Men Are Always Hitting On Me
an "onion-esque" original from MacArthur Parker
by Arthur Schmetterling
Give me a break, Ian.
I know this paranoid delusion of yours, and would like to use this segment to debunk any rumors that fly my way from the likes of you.
It's not a crime if I compliment your shirt. Hell, it's not a crime to see you as attractive (in the past tense, I may add, Mr. I'm-Going-To-Write-An-Article-About-Arthur-To-Bitch-About-Fags-In-General). And might I add, I really needed to pee, and could not avoid physical contact by nudging you to get your lazy beer-guzzling ass out of the way. How'd you like it if I peed on you, hmm? Then you'd accuse me of being into watersports too?!
It's textbook, really. Straight guy meets gay guy. Straight guy rambles on about how he's so open-minded and new-age and wonderful by befriending a fag, while at the same time having the urge to insert his girlfriend into any sentence he shares with said fabulously queer one.
"Oh, my girlfriend and I went bowling." "My girlfriend digs my Camaro." "My girlfriend let me do her in the ass the other night. Damn that was killer!"
I get the picture, bozo!
Straight guy, in addition, feigns comfort as he telepathically begs his compadres not to leave him alone with the toxic queer, as to avoid a prompt bone-jumping the second the predator is alone.
And the next time you and your buddies invite me over to get drunk and watch straight porn in the hot tub, I'm going to keep my zebra-print speedo on, thank you very much.
Trust me: I know what you're up to.
PS: You'll never be able to duplicate my darling hair, Mr. Receding Hairline. | 
