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The Public Blogging of Pomosexuality, Homotextuality, Homophobiaphilia, and Drear Theory (aka Career Theory) [aka Gay4Pay]. We also read the Corner and OpJournal so the right buttock will be punished as well.
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Type #1. You've often seen them but probably never met one. That's the whole point, to be seen but not met. Preferably at the Met. Or at a fundrasider for the Met at the Central Park Zoo. All tuxed up, their noses pointed at the sky, too elegant for this world. And the next. Even human birth is beneath them, they hatch from eggs. Faberge eggs. Waddle on ice princes. Nice shoes, btw.
T'was the night before the night before Christmas as I was swept wakeward by a flood of invention. My frantic, nightlit search for pen and papyr was all to preserve these important variations on Splish, splash I was taking a bath:
Splosh, splish I was licking my dish.
Snip, Snap I was breaking your staff.
Click, Clack I'm the train you're the track
Snick, Smirk I am a mouse in a kirk.
Glim, Glom I snuck into the prom.
Wink, Wank I'm that guard at the bank.
Fosh, Fish I was Lillian Gish.
Ching, Chong I'm that Chinese man, Wong.
Tic, Tac I'm the last in the pack.
Pish, Posh I'm the late Peter Tosh.
Ring, Ring I'm a telephone thing.
Bling, Bling I just rap I don't sing.
Tip, Top I think I can't stop.
And there at the pinnacle, the reason for the season, the excuse for the goose--a wind-ripped pennant planted at the summit of Mt. Revere with this hand-stitched onscription:
This story is India's Christmas gift to the world. I can't wait till Bollywood works its magic on it. I envision a scene of 200 dancers in school girl drag circling a single similarly dressed girl and singing words I don't understand until they get to the part where they wag their fingers and and say "NO, NO, NO!"--with frowns on their faces and smiles in their eyes. This scene intercut with one featuring 200 school-boyed-out dancers carrying one of their own on their shoulders and singing verses I understand every Hindi word of.
Further updates on our hero's legal persecution here. Our spirited heroine has been spirited off to Canada, which has issued a nationwide easy action bulletin with her picture on it. Our neighbors to the north call this a Tiffany-Amber alert. So blame them. As usual.
Expect the incidence of teenage blowjobs in India to increase 100 fold in the next 6 months. I'm trying to figure out how to make a buck off this in this dead cert prediction on the commodities market. Does anyone know how it's listed on the boards? I'd speculate on the domestic market too, but that would raise questions of insider trading.
A North Carolina National Guard member thought to be the first U.S. soldier convicted of murdering an Iraqi said he "snapped" and shot the 17-year-old boy after they had consensual sex, according to court-martial records released this week.
...Maj. Neal E. O'Brien said Army rules required that most of the names be inked out, including that of the victim. The Los Angeles Times reported shortly after the court-martial that the victim's name was Falah Zaggam.
According to the records, Zaggam and Merida were on guard duty May 11 in a tower on the perimeter of an Army camp near Tikrit in northern Iraq. About 10:30 p.m., Merida shot Zaggam repeatedly with his M-4 carbine.
The "gay panic" motive was the third that Merida offered. He first told investigators that Zaggam demanded money at gunpoint. Later, he said he killed Zaggam because the boy forced him to have sex...
RIP, Falah. And maybe I'm too generous with the sympathy here, but some peace as well to Daniel Merida. Peace at least from the sex-guilt and shame (no points for guessing the sources) that tormented him unto murder.