Gays and gadgetry
by Evans Yonson
(NOTE: I’m currently out of reach but I have automatically uploaded blog entries till I get back. At the same time, you can also visit my newly constructed site called LIGHT WRITING: THE LIGHT TRAVELLER’S PHOTOGRAPHS.)
Barcelona – Thanks to my latest gadget, Poday, I have discovered a lot of things that should have been a long time ago. Talk about being a laggard in technology. While I was browsing for video podcasts, I chanced upon this program called That’s Gay, a comedy show about homosexuality and stuff. I love this show because its take on gayhood is very light and straight-to-the-point-in-your-face kind of talk. In one of its shows they talk about the coming out of the closet party. Most of their ideas are ancient but mixed with modern videos and film footages. The results are simply extraordinary.
So, how does one really come out of the wardrobe before the Ice Queen could wield her icy wand and freeze you until the second coming of the redeemer? It’s always better, earlier than later. These are my friends’ stories.
Amiga numero uno is a university professor. He has always been queer to everyone but not to himself. He never had this queerest idea that he was one of the lost daughters of Olympus until he blew his 30th candle. Poor lass.
Amiga numero dos is a telecommunications professional. Tall, fair-skinned, charming, well-built and has everything in the metrosexual department. He went through college with the tough boys – fraternity, the basketball team, the swimming team, the debating society. Girls would die just to be beside him. Finally, the cabinet gave up on him before he could change into his football jersey.
Amiga numero tres is gay inside and out but sexually the whips, leathers and rubbers were left in the cupboard for decades.
So, what happened after that much talked-about parties?
Las tres amigas are all sexual perverts. They do everything just to get laid. They go to the dark corners of the cinema. Why confine yourselves in the shadowy planet when you’re out and out. Get out of there and do the catwalk in broad light of day. They go to public playgrounds at night. Parks are for dogs to pooh and the homeless to sleep on. They go online almost 24/7.
Yes, I know about the global village but dahlin’ get out and see your village first before you go global. They think they are luckiest homos in the whole wide universe because men gravitate around them endlessly. I must admit they are indeed lucky. When you’re 35 and have sex with 20 year-olds on a thrice-a-week basis is really something. But hey, it’s a been-there-done-that thing before I even turned 25 eons ago.
So , don’t tell me that I am envious and jealous and because I’m old. They talk sex, sex, and sex non-stop. I crave for that day when they would throw in drugs and rock-and-roll in their chronicles.
It’s really irritating and pathetic to listen to my amigas but what can I do? It’s hard to pretend so I just wish they just keep the sex to themselves and go on living happily and gladly. The world indeed is a lot better than to be between that door and Narnia.