“Gay people aren’t born gay”: Every argument you have against gay marriage is moronic and stupid (part 2)

Holy shit. I really didn’t want to do part 2 to the whole “Every argument you have against gay marriage is moronic and stupid” article until a couple of months after the first one; but, goddamn the level of stupid out there is just fucking mind-blowing. I have spent the better part of my free time this past week in social media debates with some of the biggest fuck-tards imaginable. The next completely moronic thing that comes out of Murikan dipshits’ mouths is, “It has been proven that gay people are not born gay. They choose to be gay.”

Oh really? What science is this? PLEASE! Someone link me the scientific study that definitively proves this. Did the same study also prove what attracts people to their favorite color? Did it also prove my favorite food was a choice? I don’t remember ever making a conscious decision that purple is my favorite color, or that I made a decision to love pizza. I just do. Maybe my brain is wired differently from the rest of mankind, but I don’t ever remember making choices about what I’m attracted to in any capacity. I love classical music, but I hate country music. In fact, I would rather someone piss in both my ears than listen to country music. I don’t remember ever making that choice. I just prefer one and hate the other. I never sat down and thought to myself, OK. Today’s the day I make the decision to love classical music and dislike country music. When I turn on the radio I don’t think to myself, hmmm what do I decide I’m liking today.

Or is what you’re attracted to only a choice when it comes to sex? Again, I feel like the odd man out here, so help me out. Do straight men toss and turn in bed each morning with an internal conflict of whether they will scour the earth for dick or not? Is there a vagina-angel perched on their right shoulder while an evil dick-demon rests on their left shoulder rooting for their respective teams? Most straight men are either booty men or boobs men. When did they decide whether they were more turned on by tits or ass? After all, according to this dumb-fuck logic, we all CHOOSE what we’re attracted to.

But, let’s get down to the real reason why people argue so vehemently that being gay is a choice. The real reason is deep down they hate people they don’t understand, but they don’t want to fess up to that. After all, we wouldn’t want to go against Jesus’s teachings about loving one another *eye roll*. So instead, they try to vindicate their contempt by placing their hate on the behavior, or in this case I guess we could call it the “sin” (using quotes because even if you do follow the Bible, it’s not a sin – refer to part 1 of this article). You see, the fact that people are born gay makes two things unsettling for Bible-thumping assholes. For one, it means that sexual orientation goes beyond mere behavior and actually now means something in regard to a person’s identity. Rejecting an individual’s identity would be rejecting the individual himself, and that would make pious morons hypocrites in their faith. Secondly, God said he created man in his image. This is HUGE. If gay people were born gay, then that means God created them that way. So if God really did hate all these homos, then why the fuck is he creating them in the first place? Also, if God created people in his image then God is quite possibly a big trisexual who would try anything he created.




But I thought we clicked! Why your hygiene is a cock block.

Over the years I have dated several people, and there are a few deal breakers in regard to hygiene that I just cannot get past. It usually ends up with me ignoring the guy after the first date, and not returning his calls. I know. I know. It’s a pussy move on my part, but most people are not worth the effort of an honest conversation, so it’s easier just to ignore them. Even though I’m speaking from the perspective of a gay man, I’m pretty sure this also applies to straight men, and my female friends can attest that they suffer from the same grievances. With that said, this is my PSA on why you’re probably getting ignored after a first date (assuming your game isn’t total shit).


The biggest hygiene issue that I just can’t deal with is bad breath. Some people it’s medical. They have halitosis and you can even smell their breath from behind them. Since the affliction exists in their own throat, they never even know they have a condition, at least, not until someone breaks the news to them. I remember meeting a guy for dinner, and I tried doing most of the talking so he would shut the fuck up on behalf of my life. Every time he spoke it smelled like my dinner was farting its asshole into my face. So I ignored him afterwards. After a few days of him texting me and pleading for an explanation, I finally gave it to him. I told him his breath was vile. Now, you’d think he would say something along the lines of, “Oh thank you so much for being honest and having the balls to tell me. I’m so embarrassed!” Nope! He got all shitty about it. He said, “Well no one else has complained.” Yeah, ya dumb shit! No one is going to say it to your face. They’re all going to make fun of you behind your back. And for all you know, I could have told you something that just saved your life since your breath smells like you have a vital organ rotting inside you.

For the record, if I ever have shit breath, PLEASE let me know. I will seek out medical attention ASAP.

So my next deal breaker is a sneaky one. Imagine you met that smoking hot someone that you bring back to your place. You’re making out on the couch, and you decide to crank the sensual up a notch. You go to nibble on his ear a little when HOLY SHIT THERE’S A FUCKING ALIEN WORM CLAIMING HIS BODY AS A HOST in his ear. Abe Lincoln should not be able to do his homework by candlelight with your nasty earwax. CLEAN IT! I once ran across the room and grabbed a can of air…I mean…Isn’t that how you defeat The Blob? By freezing it?

The above two deal breakers might go unnoticed by the perpetrator. If someone tells you that you are not in accordance with good hygiene due to one of the above conditions, then apologize profusely and get a handle on that shit. This next one, however, is just pure goddamn laziness. Furthermore this is a growing issue. I’m seeing it with more and more guys. It repulses me to no end when a guy takes off his shoes, and SHHHHHHHHHK!! Wolverine’s claws come slashing out. Your toenail should not reach past the flesh of your toe. I have seen, on more than one occasion, where a guy’s toenails could get caught on the carpet. How can that shit possibly be comfortable?! Do they not catch on fabrics such as your socks and your sheets? I’m sorry, but there’s a reason why I don’t own cats. I paid too much money for my furniture to get fucked up by your disgustingly long toenails. What possible reason could there be for having such long toenails? Are you that much of a coke addict to where your pinky finger won’t suffice and you need an extra ten digits to snort from?

Next on the list are beards. I LOVE beards. Few things can kick up a man’s sex appeal a few notches like a beard can. With that said, WASH THAT SHIT! Daily. With soap and water. It is so disappointing to make out with someone for the first time, only to feel like your face is being shoved into the bottom of a chicken coop. You probably don’t smell it because it is on your face all the time and your sense of smell becomes immune. Trust me. Wash. Your. Face. My nuts should not smell fresher than your face does.

And while we’re on the topic of nuts. Before you ask someone to go down on you, make sure you go down on yourself first…with a washcloth. That’s all I’m going to say about that. I’m trying to keep it classy.

Shit That Pisses Me Off in the Office Bathroom

DISCLAIMER: This post is going to have a lot of potty talk. So, if you’re the type that thinks this is low-brow humor, and you want something more intellectually stimulating, then by all means, exit this window before reading further and turn on BBC.

Now that the boring people have left…

Congratulations. The rest of you want to have a real discussion about assholes in office bathrooms. Welcome! Of course, I am a male, and I can only attest to what goes on in the men’s restroom at work. Ladies, you’ll have to let me know if you suffer the same offenses, or if this is just a male thing.

So here’s my personal list of pet peeves:

Hacking your goobers into the urinal.
First thing that gets on my nerves to no end are guys who hack up goobers from the bottom of their nuts into the urinal. It’s not even a quick spit, which that by itself is annoying. There used to be this guy that worked on the same floor as me. I swear to God, every time I went to take a piss he would come charging into the bathroom, stand next to me, and hack multiple goobers into the urinal. Every time he did this, I would have an out of body experience where I would envision myself grabbing the hair on the nape of his neck and slamming his face into the urinal where he just spat. Seriously. It was so unnecessarily disgusting. Not to mention, that when you hack a goober into a urinal it clings for dear life for the rest of the day – kind of like the spider in this video that went viral. If you do this, you are just simply an inconsiderate asshole, because now everyone else who pisses in that urinal for the rest of the day has to stare at it, and someone else has to clean up your disgusting habit.

Work starts at 9:00 am and at 9:05 there is already someone taking a leg sized dump.
OK, I get that when nature calls you have no control. But! There are some repeat offenders out there. People… We have an 8 hour work day ahead of us, and it’s not even 5 minutes after you got to work and you’re already blowing up the bathroom. Handle that shit at home before you get to work. What triggered your asshole at 9:05 that didn’t trigger it at 8:00 before you left your home?

Dump and run in another floor’s bathroom.
In my office building we have three floors. I HATE people who come from other floors to defile the bathroom that is on my floor. What, it’s OK to make people on our floor smell your shit, but the people on your floor are too good to smell it? Best believe I give the evil eye to anyone who is a dump-and-runner. If I had it my way, we would make it a policy to post photos of the offenders on the bathroom stalls with a message that reads, “GET OUT!”. I believe that immigration issues in this country cannot be solved until we address this problem in our office bathrooms.

Shy about using the air freshener.
This one blows my fucking mind. You just made everyone’s throats in the vicinity close up with your assplosion, and now you somehow think that spraying air freshener is what will give it away that you just took a shit. You weren’t shy about farting out the overture to Phantom of the Opera, why are you all of a sudden timid about using the air freshener. SPRAY THE FUCK OUT OF THAT GLADE ….PLEASE!

I remember when I used to work at a law firm based inside a historical house. The facilities were these tiny, single unit bathrooms adjacent to the hallway going through the house. There was this one attorney, who at the same time every afternoon, would go in and blow it the fuck up. Not only could we hear his ass squirting, but the SMELL. It’s like he stuffed a london broil up his ass each night and let it rot before shitting it in our bathroom every afternoon. I’m seriously not exaggerating. At one point an animal had died in the crawl space under the house. Animal control couldn’t remove it because it had bloated up so much it was wedged underneath the building. For weeks the office was unbearable. To this day I’m still on the fence as to what made me want to stuff tampons up my nostrils more – the dead animal, or this dude’s afternoon shits. I bet the animal died from wandering under the bathroom at the wrong time one hot summer day. So now you have a slight picture of how intrusive this dude’s shits were. No lie, he would squirt the air freshener in the bathroom with quick little puffs as if THAT would call attention to the crime against humanity his ass just committed.

Alright. I could go on all night, but I think I have grossed you all out enough, and I’m tired of reliving these nightmares. Moral of the story: Please be a considerate office bathroomer. I get that body functions are part of nature and we should all be grownups blah blah blah. But goddamn, act like a human being that was house broken as a child for Christ’s sake.

One of the Reasons Why I Hate Boston: The Driving

I hate Boston. I’ve lived in the Greater Boston Area for about 7 years now, and I think I’ve hated Boston for about 6 years, 364 days, 23 hours, and 45 minutes of those 7 years. Basically within 15 minutes of driving in the city, I knew I would hate this shit-hole.

I know some of you are going to say, “I love it here.” OK…I’m writing about one of the reasons why I (<-notice the pronoun I used) hate it here.

There are a plethora of reasons, but for now I’ll focus on the one that pisses me off the most: driving in this goddamn city SUCKS!! For those of you who have never had the misfortune of driving in Boston, let me link a few videos that might give you a taste of what it’s like driving here:

Just a taste people. Some of you readers at home might have a heart condition.

Let’s first talk about the layout of the city. To say that the city was based on cow paths would be giving it too much credit. I think what happened was an early settler slit his wrists because he lived in Boston, and some wicked pissah Bostonian got offended and used the victim’s trickling blood as a road-map for the city out of spite (native Bostonians are that hardcore about their city). There is NO rhyme or reason to the roadways here. You might have to exit right to make a left turn that splits into 3 different lefts, and you better be sure of which path you want to go or you’re sure to have some dick in an oversized SUV driving up your asshole.

Which brings me to my next point, every driver in Boston is a complete asshole, including myself. I have to be. It’s survival. Either I adapt and become that which I hate, or I die! This is how we got the term masshole. The golden rule of driving in Boston is if you hesitate for one second, you’re dead. The only way to drive safely in Boston is to out-asshole the drivers around you. When I first moved to Massachusetts 7 years ago, my first dance with death on the roadways was obeying a yield sign. There was traffic on the road I was about to enter, so I stopped to let it pass. I then hear tires screeching behind me and I had to perform some Evel Knievel shit in my Hyundai Elantra to avoid getting ass-ended. Why? Because the yield sign in Massachusetts means to floor the gas pedal and give zero fucks in the process. In the rest of the United States a yield sign means to let the existing traffic pass THEN you enter. Not so in Boston. Also, don’t expect drivers to clear an intersection before a light changes, turn signals to be used, or to be in the correct turning lane when they turn.

Oh wait. About the lanes. Good luck finding that shit defined on the pavement. While driving in Boston, you’ll squint at the road and try to figure out, Is this one lane or two?; however, while you’re trying to figure that out don’t violate the golden rule I mentioned earlier about hesitation. Lanes will shift from one to two, or two to one, or one to three, and there’s no markings to indicate the change. You’ll only find out when someone loses their shit behind you because you’re driving in the middle of what you think is one lane when it is really two.

Lost in Boston? I would tell you to use a GPS or stop and ask for directions, but yeah you’re fucked until you can find a way to jimmy yourself to a major highway, just so you can have the opportunity to press the reset button and try again. The problem with a GPS is that it will tell you to make a slight left. BUT! Do you make a slight left? An immediate left? A slightly less slight left? or merge left? Now you’re trying to compare your GPS screen to the clusterfuck road in front of you. Furthermore, due to The Big Dig, many parts of Boston have layers, and the GPS cannot recognize what layer you’re driving on. And again, don’t forget the golden rule of hesitation while driving in Boston. This could be further exacerbated if you’re using an iPhone. Siri is a dumb bitch; just sayin’.

The problem with stopping and asking for directions, is that the locals probably a) don’t know their way around outside their immediate commute to work, and b) how the hell could they even begin to describe it?! “Oh head down Storrow Drive…”

…and another tourist just died trying to remember directions given by a local.

Parking. Just bring 20s and be ready to make it rain. Oh, and by the way, congratulations you made it to your destination without dying. You just unlocked a major achievement point in your life. Now good luck getting the fuck out.

“But the Bible Says…”: Every argument you have against gay marriage is moronic and stupid (part 1)

So gay marriage is pretty much becoming a thing in the United States. The Supreme Court of the United States will hopefully make a final decision at the end of April 2015. It’s already legal in 37 states. As news arrives for each state that has succumbed to the “gay agenda” (whatever the fuck that is) the blogosphere erupts in a shit storm of posts for and against. This article is titled “part 1” because there is just soooooo much bullshit out there that I couldn’t possibly include it all in one essay.

Let us begin with the one that pisses me off the most: “But the Bible says…”

When I read a comment on any forum, I first scan for the words: God, Jesus, Bible, Our Lord Savior, His (with a capital h). If I see any of these mentioned as a fact in a post I immediately dismiss the person as a stupid asshole. A common example of this stupidity is, “I’m against it because the Bible states that marriage is between a man and a woman.”

….except that IT DOESN’T!

Here’s a thought. Why don’t you read the goddamn book you’re always thumping. Nowhere does Jesus turn to his followers and say, “Let it be known that marriage is only between a man and a woman.” In fact, Jesus never even mentioned homosexuality. You know what he did mention a lot of? All that liberal shit about loving your neighbor as you love yourself, helping the poor, judge not lest ye be judged….you know…the shit that gets tossed out the window any time a Bible-thumping Republican talks about immigration, foreign aid, welfare, or gay marriage.

Let’s just pretend for a minute that Jesus DID specifically say to his 12 bros and favorite fag hag, “Homosexuality is wrong and my other dad is going to cast them into the pits of Hell to burn for an eternity”. You mentioning that to me as fact equates to me saying something like, “My Fairy Godmother says that you being a bitch and making shit up is wrong; therefore, she will cast you into a pit of glitter and grind your fucking face in it for eternity.” Now, if I say that with faith and conviction does it make it real for you? Probably not. Just as your faith and conviction in whatever you believe does not make it real for me. The point being, just because you believe something strongly does not make it a fact that public policy should be based upon.

I’m not saying that you can’t believe what you want. It is your American right to believe whatever bullshit you wish. However, your belief in that bullshit should not govern the lives of others, and it absolutely has no place in our government.


So how ’bout that cock fight?

So those of you who know me, understand that one of my biggest pet peeves is random strangers asking me about goddamn sports. It happened again today. I went to a local deli, and all I wanted in life at that moment was to get my enormous turkey/bacon fresh made hoagie with extra mayo. I generally don’t like striking up conversations with random people. I just don’t see the point of it. Unless you’re someone I know already, chances are you’re probably someone I genuinely don’t care about. As hard as I try to paint RBF across my face, people still always want to strike up a conversation with me about pointless shit, specifically sports. The x on the diagram below indicates my level of care for sports:

X            Don’t care [————————————————–] Care

Holy shit that’s off the charts!!

To me, watching others play sports is like watching the elderly play shuffleboard. I’m sure they’re having a great time playing the game, but I’m not playing it, so why would I care? When I attended Florida State University back in 1999, I was in the marching band and our team was undefeated. While the rest of the band was psyched to play the goddamn war chant for the one hundred ninety millionth time, I was behind the bleachers eating nachos in the shade. I couldn’t tell you what went on during any of the games. When I looked out onto the field, all I saw were these muscle-bound gnomes fighting over a flea.

Anyway, back to today. I order my sandwich at the deli, and here we go, “Did you catch the Bruins game last night?”

Now I know you’re thinking, Why don’t you just tell him you didn’t see it! Here’s the thingI’ve tried that!  If I make up an excuse, it’s like the universe conspires to fuck with me until I have to confess I have no clue what you’re talking about. Because then they’ll start telling me blow by blow about the fucking game, or how it wasn’t as good or better than another game I didn’t give a shit about. Or they’ll ask me my opinion about how the Patriots will do in the World Series. You see my problem?!

So I’ve learned to just say, “I don’t really follow sports.” Then I get this look as if I just told the man that I like to put his wife’s underwear on my head when he’s not looking….followed by awkward silence. Now I feel guilty like I have to make the situation better, so I just say something like, “I’ve never even met your wife.”




I don’t go around asking you if you saw the latest episode of Table Top, or if you watched the latest play by Faker in yesterday’s LCS match. Do you know why? Because those conversations would be awkward to the average Joe the Dumber. In fact, I don’t ask people SHIT unless I know them, because if I did, that would lead to assumptions. And we know what they say about assumptions: It makes a complete asshole out of you.


Ehr Mehr Gehrd!!! I just wrote my biography in the About Meh section. If you give a rat’s tit, then by all means read away; otherwise, stay tuned. I promise I will write some wacky articles that are fun to read and not all-about-me narcissistic essays.