If you have the ability to be cruel, witty, and just downright evil then this list is for you. Commit each terrible answer to memory because I gaurantee you will eventually one day use it. Good for all occasions and doesn't just commit to being for gays.

Can I buy you a drink?....

Yeah, if you did that then I might be obligated to talk to you in a nice way and there’s just no way I can keep it up because you’ll have to keep buying and then eventually I’ll kill myself because I might sleep with you.
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I'm a photographer. I've been looking for a face like yours.

And yet you know when I look at yours all I can see is any plastic surgeon in the world looking at you and telling you that they only went o medical school to heal and repair not play God or Jesus.....

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Hi. Didn't we go on a date once? Or was it twice?....

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Okay see it’s bad enough you had to go ahead and actually say I made the worst mistake in my life by going out on one date with you. But then you add injury to the insult by asking me if I was suicidal enough to repeat the same insulting to my self esteem mistake a second time?
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How did you get to be so beautiful?

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Now see if I were religious I’d have to say God blessed me by cursing you. But then he cursed me by bringing you back as a reminder. So I’ll go the Darwinian route and tell you I’m the fittest therefore had to make sure I could wipe you out by being better looking.
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Will you go out with me this Saturday?

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Only if you promise to die on Thursday, have a wake on Friday and then the funeral and burial on Saturday.
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Your face must turn a few heads.

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You know it’s funny you should say that. Because I know yours does. Just watch as I “turn” my head away from your ugly ass face.
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Go on ,don't be shy. Ask me out.

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No, don’t you be shy. I’m sure highway traffic is still pretty busy. Why not go run out into it and then get run into and by anything in it.....

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I think I could make you very happy.

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I really don’t think that can happen unless you dropped dead right here thus proving the eternal existence of poetic justice and the existence of God. I’ll go for either one right now.
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What would you say if I asked you to be my gay partner?....

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I would tell you to first look up the actual definition in the dictionary. When you understood it means to be happy then I’d tell you there’s no way on this earth or even in anything after it would I ever be in that state with you. And then if you were smart enough to apply homosexual practice to it, I’d follow ignorant heterosexual ways of thinking and choose heterosexuality because fucking a woman has to be more enlightening and enjoyable to another minute with you.

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Can I have your name?

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Haven’t I already suffered enough? I mean I’m still standing here long enough to insult you. If I give you my name then you’ll feel the need to give me yours and then I’ll have to get personable with you as I continue to suffer by talking to you as I insult you.
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Shall we go see a movie?

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Only if it’s a horror movie. Oh wait I’m starring in it and I’m playing the role of the high heel wearing bimbo who kicks the supposedly dead body right before he pops up again.
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Where have you been all my life?

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Making the mistake of believing I could hide the whole of my life from you. I really must learn to find better hiding spots. Where don’t you go?
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Haven't I seen you some place before?

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I think it was the same place I saw you. This explains why they don’t see me in there anymore. And while I have you here can I give you a list of places I still like going to? I’ll need you to memorize it and then avoid all of those places so I can still go out.
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Is this seat empty?....

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Actually the imaginary boyfriend you had before you decided to bother me is sitting there right now. And let me tell you he looks mighty pissed because you’re hitting on me. So let me empty mine so you can go back to sitting next to him.
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So, what do you do for a living?

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I’m a genetic physicist. We’re looking to find a cure for whatever horrible defect you were born with on a physical level. We even decided to branch out into the personality and intellectual areas so that way we get it right each and every time a woman gets pregnant. It’s our goal to have the whole of your kind wiped out before we die.
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Hey baby, what's your sign?

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Beware of the idea that I might not buy into the laws that govern this city, this state, or even this country.
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Your body is like a temple.

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This is not Bangkok and I will never be free.
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If I could see you naked, I'd die happy.

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Few books I have read over the many years that I have been living touched me in the way that Tuesdays With Morrie did. I have read a great many books and simply tossed them to the side and scarcely allowed them to do little more than help me to learn more effective ways of speaking, writing, and on occasion how to behave. C.S. Lewis allowed me the chance to shed a few tears when I read the shortest work of his known as A Grief Observed. Having been a huge fan of the movie “Shadowlands” I was able to shed more tears when I read the truth behind the fiction. Taking a course offered by one of my better instructors over the years I have strived to achieve academic satisfaction, I was required to read more books. I sighed heavily at the idea of having to read more than my current workload. But I trusted Doctor Billings. After all she allowed me to write one of my better papers. When I had finished this novel at my work, I was relieved to see that I had allowed my employees to leave and that there was no one around that could see me shed the many tears that I did.

            Then I moved on with my life as I often do and sat in front of a computer at work and decided to write down my thoughts before they had time to leave me back in the world I knew so well. There were many points made in this novel of two men who would meet each and every Tuesday to talk about a wide variety of things. The irony of this story is that in the beginning the author, Mitch Albom, left his favorite instructor on his graduation day making a promise to both remember and visit him. It isn’t until many years and a newspaper strike later that he is forced to think about that wonderful man who taught him many things and had yet to teach him all that he needed to know and so was about to teach him even more. As that is all the summary I intend to give because I feel that this summary of not just one man’s life but two, should be read in order to appreciate the richness and to absorb the lessons that apply not just to the author but to the reader as well.

            There were so many things they talked about. They discussed the world and the issues within it. They discussed regret, death, family, emotions, fear, love forgiveness, and even the fantasy that we all have known as the perfect day. There were other thoughts and feelings, but these were the ones that had come to me more than any of the others.

            In relation to me, the world and I have had our fair share of disagreements and scuffles. Being a homosexual in a time when it’s still not a good thing, but on the same token not the worst thing you could end up being on the other side of the spectrum really doesn’t help making things easier. I’ve had to struggle against stereotypes, convictions, the gay community, the heterosexual community, my family, my friends, and the worst enemy I can think to have of them all. It’s myself. At the time of the original writing of this I would have been out of the closet for seven years. It’s now been twelve years. But be it seven or twelve I am still struggling to be something I loathe more than anything. The idea of being a homosexual isn’t the most appealing thing. However, when you have no real choice but to accept the hand dealt to you, you have no choice but to learn to hope that the cards you pick up after the cards you discarded are a lot better than the ones you just threw away. I hate certain types of gay people. The odd thing is that I don’t hate certain types of straights. I either like them or I hate them on an individual level and make my decision to do either or based on the meeting I have with them. But again I hate certain types of gay people, as many of the community do prefer to be called, and yet the irony is that apparently I fall into the types category according to the ones I hate and care for and this has a tendency to bother me. I never asked to be what I am. And if you think I did then you are sadly mistaken. But I am more than grateful to those who have taken the time to accept me for who and what I am rather than what I am on a good or bad leveled basis.

            Despite that fact that does in fact keep me going on a daily basis, a singular fact still remains that I have to go out into not one world but two each and every day. And the continuance of this fact is that I don’t fit into either of these worlds and that has a tendency to actually bother me. I live each day struggling not to fit into a category, believing that if I behave in the way that I normally do, I am my own person and not a member of some sort of a herd mentality. My roommates are fond of reminding me of many things. One is fond of reminding me that he has befriended many a homosexual in his day and that I need to quit fighting against what he says I supposedly hate and learn to accept what I am and what I claim to hate the most. I need to look at the world in a different light and learn that the world as a whole is not responsible for the way that I am. I should, he says, learn to accept the fact that I created myself in the image that I took the time to blame the world for. He and another of my friends have a tendency to agree that the world did have a hand in creating me and making me what I am. But for the most part I could have turned out differently if I would just learn to accept more and hate less.

            Emotions are something the author and I seem to share and yet at the same time we differ on the idea and concept completely. Recently and in the past I was told that in certain ways I show entirely too much attention and affection. And I only seem to do this when it is considered incredibly inappropriate, or when it tends to make a person feel uncomfortable. Other times I am told I need to show far more emotions on a positive side than what I do at the present day and age. But I need to keep it on a tolerable level and not feel the pressure or anxiety that might in fact bring down the moods of those around me. So I guess you could say the million dollar question is where the fie line has to be drawn in order to appeal to everyone without feeling as if I am appealing, appeasing, or losing the esteem that I have worked so hard to secure. What is appropriate behavior when it comes to emotions?

            As a man I was taught to believe that showing my emotions was a clear sign of weakness and that many people would more than happily use it to their advantage to take advantage of me. If I wanted to tell you that what was just said isn’t true then I’d be half right and the half that is right might even be telling a lie it doesn’t want to tell. No, it is not a sign of weakness. Yes, many people have taken advantage of me and my ability to show emotions in the past. This has caused me to become cold, unfeeling, even hard and rigorous the way Albom once was. I hide it very well when in public, most of the time making an utter nuisance of myself. I’m given sway to being loud, crass, and even obnoxious. But when I’m alone, with just a few very close friends. I find that I am debating on whether or not I should allow emotions whatsoever. Now after reading this book, or in the case of rewording this here and now, remembering the reading of it, I have found myself really wanting to know where to draw the line.

            Love is overrated. I used to think that a long time ago. And as sad as it is to say I do still have a tendency at times to feel that way. I love my material possessions despite the fact that Morrie says they will amount to nothing. I know I can’t take them with me. I also know that when I do go I have paperwork ready to let the items I treasure so much go to the different places I want them to go. And who they go to, that person can hopefully use the items to remember me and the eccentricity that made me who I am. I love my godchildren. I love them as if the were my own children in fact. But as much as I love them I have no desire to let them see me suffer in my old age or in my present day living where taking care of myself is a bit difficult. But I love them in the same way I love the people I can really call friends. But then I look out into the word love and wonder why it is I can say it and as freely as not only I, but also the rest of the world around me at the same time.

            I wonder if in some way it’s a conditioned response to situations that have happened to me over the many years that I have been alive. I mean we can all say the word with the greatest of ease to our family, mainly because we’re told we have to even if we don’t mean it. Our friends, and we pretty much do mean it when we say it to them even if it is on a different level. But the easiest to say and easiest to mean is when we say we love our pets. Case in point of such a love and maybe even a twisted devotion comes from an episode of Doctor Who titled “The Happiness Patrol”. In a woman by the name of “Helen A” believed that she could govern an entire planet by having them all smile and remain happy even if they wanted nothing more than to show sadness. She herself seemed devoid of any other kind of emotion save for maybe anger that varied in degrees when she was confronted in any way. But her goal, her sole goal in life was to make everyone around her smile and to be happy. At the end of the episode, when all else had failed, making us wonder if Helen could become sad or if she could emote any other kind of emotion, she was confronted one last time by the Doctor who informed her that there is a universal law. That law clearly dictates that no one thing can possibly exist without the presence at some point of the exact polar opposite. He told Helen that happiness was nothing unless it existed side by side with sadness. “Two sides, one coin.” Is how he physically described it. And when it seemed that he was going to win and that she was going to lose:

   “A place where there is no love?”

   “I always thought love was overrated.”

            Imagine the irony of her comment when the one thing she really did love was dying at her feet, looking for the one person that could love it. Her final scene was spent dropping the case she was taking with her as she planned on leaving and falling to the ground weeping uncontrollably over her beloved “Fifi”. She continued to call it’s name while she wept. The Doctor had a companion with him that walked up behind him and said:

   “Is there anything we can do Professor?”

   “Tis done.” Was his more than cold reply.

            The episode continued on to the end with the two watching Helen weep over her dog that she wasn’t willing to admit that she loved enough to feel anything but happiness should anything serious happen to it.

            I think that was a nice segue into the notion of regret don’t you? What is it we regret in this world? In my life I’ve had a great many regrets that I’ve had to deal with and still do. But then the same can be said about any one person reading this blog. One year I was forced to drop out of school because my roommate at the time was addicted to cocaine. And the fool that I was, I supported his habit on a financial basis to the best of my ability. In doing so I was becoming just as addicted. Not to the drug, something I could never bring myself to doing, but to the affection he was giving me while he was on it. And even to the pain and the suffering his addiction was causing the two of us. I was addicted to the pain and the joy and I was hating the two of us for it. And yet despite the hate there was little to nothing I could eventually do because I allowed myself to get sucked in deeper and deeper. He wasn’t doing anything to stop himself. I wasn’t following through on any threats to make him stop it. While he was on the drugs he was willing to give himself over to me in every sense of the word give. I even believed that if he gave it long enough he would succumb to giving me his heart, soul, and love. I was sick.

            In the end he tended to regret not what he was doing to me, but more what he was doing to himself. He was as selfish then as he is now with little to no remorse for the things he does. And any remorse he has is merely temporary. But he did teach me the value of regret when he told me I was taking full advantage of him while he was on the drugs. And the truth is I was. But an even darker truth was that I told him I was going to in order to teach him that he couldn’t simply believe that he could always take and never give. I knew he was having things done to him that he hated and I didn’t care. I didn’t care because he didn’t care what he was doing to me. He tried adding to the guilt by telling me that he gave in to me because he felt it was what I wanted and that he wanted to give me anything I wanted regardless of what it did to him because he cared for me. He was willing to do anything even though it would eventually destroy us if he continued and continued to give me the things I wanted. I still acknowledge his existence because I have to. He and his girlfriend are living with my roommate and me at the moment because my present roommate like his girlfriend as a person and wants to help her if he can.

            I could go on for pages telling you how Morrie and Mitch affected me, I really could. The truth of the matter though boils down to this. I have walked around with my eyes closed to the many things around me. I’ve lived parts of my life the way that Mitch has. In fact I am still living part of that life and am likely to remain living that part of my life for a very long if not til the end of my life, time. In all honesty I have had no one person affect me the way that Morrie affected Mitch. I’ve had people come in shall we say for a reason, some of them stuck around, but in the end they always left me. I’ve had instructors who saw in me a talent for intellect and creativity that did in fact dote on me. They encouraged me to move on and to strive for and achieve much higher goals in life. My friends tell me that I can be a better me than I am already if I just apply myself. My family in this day and age follows suit when they need to. I am applying myself more than they will ever understand. But I wonder if at thirty-six, if there is a Morrie waiting for me. Or are all of my friends Morrie but without the need for a Tuesday to learn from them? I can say Susan, Shannon, Darryn, Brandon, Juiceman, Troy, David, PJ, Chip, Rick, Kevzin, and a host of other names that would fill line after line. But they know who they are and what they’ve done. They all keep teaching me the values that I willingly allow myself to lose every day I have to get up and face the world. They all just sit and wait patiently like some other people and ethereal forces, for me to get my head out of my ass and embrace them and the life they, like Morrie taught Mitch, are trying to teach me. And I hope they stick around to see the end result. Maybe even have a copy of my published when they are books in their collection to say they knew me when.

20 Ways to confuse a trick or treater(s)

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1. Give them something other than candy. (Toothpicks, toothpaste, laundry soap, coasters, staplers, anything you can’t get rid of at a yard sale.)
   
2. Wait behind the door until they come screaming trick or treat. When they get near the door you jump out wearing a costume and yell “Trick or treat!” Look at them and then scratch your head and act very confused.
   
3. Fill a briefcase with marbles and crackers. Close it and on top put on a sign that says “Top Secret” in big and bold letters. When the trick or treaters come look at them and say, as you hand them the case, “It’s about time you got here.” Look around suspiciously as you do and then quickly shut the door.
   
4. Get about 20-30 people in your living room (make room for them all if you have to.) When the trick or treaters come to the door, say come in. When they do have everyone yell surprise and then act disappointed because they got the wrong person again.
   
5. Get everyone who comes to the door to come in and see if they can figure out what’s wrong with your dishwasher. As they go to look at it insist that the “whirring sound it’s making” is unnatural.
   
6. After you give the trick or treaters their candy hand them a bill.
   
7. Open the door dressed as a giant fish. Immediately collapse and don’t move or say anything until they go away.
   
8. When you answer the door, hold up one candy bar. Throw it out into the street and then yell “Crawl for it!”
   
9. When you answer the door, look at the trick or treaters, act shocked and scared. Then start screaming your head off. Slam the door and run around still screaming until they go away.
   
10. Insist that each trick or treater do ten push ups before you give them any candy.
    
11. Hand out candy menus to the trick or treaters and then let them order their candy. Ask them as they look if they want to look at the wine list. As they order look sad and tell them you’re all out of that.
    
12. Get a catapult. Seriously. Sit on your porch and catapult pumpkins at anyone who comes within 50 yards of your house.
    
13. When people come to the door, jump out a nearby window, crashing through the glass as you do, and then run as far away from your house as you can. A touch expensive so make sure you’re ready to replace the window.
    
14. Answer the door dressed as a pilgrim. Stare at the trick or treaters for a moment, pretend to be confused, and then start flipping through the calendar.
    
15. 15. Instead of candy give away colored eggs. If anyone protests, tell them the eggs were the only things you had left over from Easter.
    
16. Answer the door dressed as a dentist. And then give the trick or treaters a two hour lecture on tooth decay while drinking a can of coke and eating a candy bar as you do.
    
17. Answer the door with a mouthful of M&M’s and several half eaten candy bars in your hands. Act surprised and close the door. Open it again in a few seconds and then insist you have no candy.
    
18. Hand out cigarettes and aspirin (With this do that to the adults. Give the children nothing.)
    
19. Put a crown on a pumpkin and put the pumpkin on a throne in front of your house on your porch. Insist that all the trick or treaters bow before the pumpkin and refer to it as their majesty before they get any candy.
    
20. Dress up like a bunny rabbit. Yell and curse the moment you open the door, and angrily throw the candy at the trick or treaters. Slam the door when you’re finished.
    
21. And this one is just for the really sick ones. Dress like a horse and then watch Ren and Stimpy’s Rubber nipple episode. Then, when you answer the door, offer up the spiel the horse says when they came a knocking on his door. Then say “No sir, I don’t think I’d like it at all.” And then shut the door on them.

I wrote this years ago and of course found it in a myriad of other works that I had gone through today as I looked valiantly for a notebook that contained a play I was working on. This one deals with how I saw the world then. Sadly it still holds true.

When it comes to short stories that have a profoundly disturbing effect on a man, nothing comes to mind better than the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. In this macabre tale we are introduced to what appears to be a seemingly small town that appears to be preparing to hold a lottery. Now one hopes that this is a typical lottery such as the ones we are surrounded by in this day and age where the winner goes home with a prize that will make them or even their family providing they have one, feel better about themselves for having won. But we will soon discover along the way that such ideals are foolish. Even as we are introduced to the children who are happily running about gathering stones and putting them in a pile, we are given no real sense of grand or good hope. In fact we are given nothing as yet. Then we meet their fathers who are standing close by the pile of stones. But they don’t want to look at them as they pile higher and ever higher. Even the women we meet offer us little to nothing as we are introduced to them being made out to be stereotypes as they stand around clucking like hens regaling in gossip with each other laughing at certain points of interest.

            The mystery of the lottery begins to deepen when we are told certain people can’t attend for a variety of different reasons because they are either dead, or otherwise indisposed at the time of the drawing. And then we are introduced to an old man who is adamant about conducting the lottery and then proceeds to offer his own personal opinion as to why it should continue not only that day but in future, never to be taken away or disbanded. He informs the others that tradition must be kept or else the town will lose itself. It will no longer have an identity.

            There comes a time when we must reach the end of everything. And in this case there is no exception. We come to an end that is brutal and horrifying to say the least. We come to the end and learn that an unfortunate person must now stand in the middle of the circle that the rest of the town will make u and die in the middle of that circle. They have to die at the hands of the very people they’ve known for a long time. They will die at their hands as their hands throw the stones they have painstakingly gathered up. If you wanted to take the hours it would take, you could read the tale, and then do research to try and figure out where the characters originally came from as well as the origins of so horrific a tradition as well. But before you do and maybe even after, ask yourself why? Why this tradition?

            I can’t say that there is any real reason as to why. There is an idea that Tess is late, and that jokes are made because she is late. But then the “festivities” continue on as if she was never late to begin with and her tardiness is treated as a moot point at best. I searched my own reasoning skills and almost always drew a blank each and every time. It wasn’t until I had looked deep into my own past and my own childhood, thus remembering a painful event that happened, and then associated it with the way the world turns on a daily basis, and then finally comparing it to the story itself that I was finally able to draw a conclusion that was painful not only because it was as real as it was, but that I was a Tess.

            Ages ago, when I was in the first or second grade, I went to school one morning. It was a cold winter day and there was a great deal of snow on the ground. It was the right kind of snow that would make for good snowballs. This worked well if you had happened to want to engage in the age old tradition of a good old fashioned snowball fight. However little did I know that I would fall victim to a “lottery” type situation. Before I knew what was going on I was in the middle of a large circle that had quickly formed around me. I was attacked with a series of snowballs until I was finally reduced to falling to my hands and knees trying to use my arms to guard myself from the pelting of snowballs. I had finally been reduced to tears and cries for help that eventually found their way to ears willing to help me.

            Years later the circle would change, but the pain was always the same giving way to the old adage that the more things change, the more likely they will remain the same. No longer were there physical torments that were able to eventually heal as they cut to the quick causing bodily harm to a person, or even death if the circumstances went too far. They were now raised to verbal forms of rocks so to speak that attacked faster and cut much deeper. Society had reduced themselves to a certain degree while trying to move forward. But the tradition of choosing the sacrificial lamb was always the same.

            What qualifies you to become the sacrificial lamb? What do you have to look like in order to be the victim? What do you have to wear? Are you an individual that stands out because you had the tenacity and the audacity to be outspoken in your own way? Are you incapable of playing in sports well enough to be able to engage in them on a scholarly level that will make you a part of the circle instead of the victim in the middle? How many more reasons can one give to the society that’s supposed to raise them so that it can refuse to protect them and then cause them pain or enough harm to realize that death is more acceptable than living in it?

            When you stop to think about it the world is made up of millions of towns similar to the one in Jackson’s story. Smaller groups invite individuals to join them and then allow them to associate with them as they lure them into a false sense of security. Then without so much as a batting or blinking of an eye they strike. They kill not the body of that person they invited into the sense of security they felt was safe and not false. They kill their spirit that thrived on the acceptance they believed with all of their heart that they were getting. Can you say that the circle knew that such a deed was wrong and that by all means they should have known better? I feel certain you could say yes and stand firm in your belief. Does it make it any easier for the ones causing the pain to accept and to stop? Certainly not. All they know is what they were programmed to know because they were taught to believe that those beneath them didn’t deserve the pity they wanted or the acceptance they deserved and needed. At one point they might have even been tormented, so that they learned that to do unto others as was done unto you was good so long as you eventually learned you needed to be the one who was part of the circle and not the victim in the middle of it. And now they feel the need to make sure they stay in the circle.

            Racism, bigotry, and hatred are all words that have found themselves fitting into this category. There are people in this world who still believe that certain races or people who suffer from the scientifically proven fact that they are homosexual need to be placed in the center of the circle even if that circle has now advanced to imaginary in a way. And once there they feel the need to stone them, sometimes to even what can be referred to as literal death by choice or demanded reason. These people are hereby sometimes older people who like the old man in the story, are influencing the younger generations to hold firm the belief that what they are being taught to do is “tradition” and that they must hold on to it else they lose their identity. They may not call it tradition. Such a luxury is devoid of their ignorant intellect. But they will tell the younger generation that people didn’t behave in such an outward way in their day. They will tell them that if they had to exist, they did so in privacy and respect to the rest of the world, trying not to poison them with their degenerate blood and or ideas. Certain people, they said, were taught how to behave and abide to the ways dictated unless they wanted to be punished for thinking “outside of the circle” thus causing the need for a lottery to be held and a lesson to be taught.

            So how do we escape the lottery way of thinking? Sadly the day we escape it may never come. If it does come, then it will be long after we have left this earth and mankind has finally derived a way to become enlightened. But so long as there is still an “Old man Warner”, the man who held firm to the belief that traditions must be kept, there will always be a group of people, a small village, even larger cities and metropolis’s that will buy into his way of thinking and believing. And so long as that happens, there will always be a Tess Hutchinson. There will always be a sacrificial lamb.

Top Ten Things Men Really Understand about Women

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I think you get the idea.

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And now for Bill’s Top ten things Gay Men know about women (Understanding is a given)....

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10.) Women can actually at times, have terrible taste in shoes.

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9.) It’s true that all women know the best flavors of ice cream.

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8.) It’s also true that not all women stand there looking helpless when the tire goes flat. Only the bimbo’s and desperate gay men (Jim) do that.

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7.) Not all women like “Chick Flicks”. They have a tendency to drag their men to them to make them suffer for all the sins they have and will commit in the future.

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6.) A smart woman knows that take out might be more expensive in the long run. But if he can’t take the time to cook for you what the hell makes you think he’ll do the dishes for you?

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5.) Not every woman has a gay friend. These are the sad and stupid ones.

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4.) All women reserve their goddess given right to make sure that all men, including their gay friends, know that they are inferior in some way, shape, and yes, it’s true, form.

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3.) “Women are irrational that’s all there is to that! Their heads are full of cotton hay and rags.” Rex Harrison talk-sang that ladies, I just happen to agree with him at times. Truth is that you are all irrational. As for the second part? Well that’s in gay debate land and is likely to stay there a very long time.

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2.) Women are meant to be worshipped because they can still always find the better looking men that are either gay as the day is long. Or not actually gay, but not opposed to trying it on for size either.

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And the number one thing gay men know and truly understand about women? Okay when you read this know that I was the originator of this line, I have many female friends, and it is SO DAMN TRUE!:....

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“I was born with a hole between my legs that serves as a certificate of authenticity and the right to be all the bitch I can be. You’re just jealous because you have to pretend.” Bitch Nurse from “What do you really want?”