Skip navigation

Category Archives: faggotry

The following paragraph from AO Scott’s review of Bruno says more about AO Scott than it does about Bruno, Sasha Baron Cohen, satire, or homosexuality:

The film demonstrates, at a fairly high level of conceptual sophistication, that lampooning homophobia has become an acceptable, almost unavoidable form of homophobic humor, or at least a way of licensing gags that would otherwise be out of bounds. An early sequence that graphically shows Brüno and his lover exerting themselves in various positions and with the assistance of, among other things, a Champagne bottle, a fire extinguisher and a specially modified exercise machine, derives its humor less from the extremity of their practices than from the assumption that sex between men is inherently weird, gross and comical. The same sequence with a man and a woman — or for that matter, two women — would play, most likely on the Internet rather than in the multiplex, as inventive, moderately kinky pornography rather than as icky, gasp-inducing farce.

HMMMMMMMM. Because I think the use of such objects during heterosexual copulation would be icky and gasp-inducing but mostly hilarious. That’s just me though! Maybe I’m heterophobic?! Because I kind of don’t find that sort of thing as kinky as AO Scott does, who would find it icky in homosexual context. Well well, is this a hall of mirrors I see?

I’m sure the movie is funny but of course I am a little suspect as far as the intention of some of its comedic setpieces but mostly I won’t be seeing it because I don’t really like humor based on cringe-worthy situations laughing at other people’s stupidity, a syndrome dating all the way back to America’s Funniest Home Videos. Because more than dildo-equipped bicycle sex, that kind of comedy is icky to me.


Oh good grief, Sam the Wurzelplumber:

At a state level, it’s up to them. I don’t want it to be a federal thing. I personally still think it’s wrong. People don’t understand the dictionary—it’s called queer. Queer means strange and unusual. It’s not like a slur, like you would call a white person a honky or something like that. You know, God is pretty explicit in what we’re supposed to do—what man and woman are for. Now, at the same time, we’re supposed to love everybody and accept people, and preach against the sins. I’ve had some friends that are actually homosexual. And, I mean, they know where I stand, and they know that I wouldn’t have them anywhere near my children. But at the same time, they’re people, and they’re going to do their thing.

UHHHHHHHHHH. “People” “don’t understand” “the dictionary”? I think we understand the dictionary just fine, guy. Let’s break it down for this craptard, shall we?

a) “Queer,” in “THE DICTIONARY,” means strange and unusual. Okay, point for you, Sam the Wurzmule. Never let it be said that I’m not being fair in our one-sided discourse.
b) “Queer” is “not a slur,” O RLY?! Why do you think gay people were originally called “queer” in the first place, hmmm???? For kicks?
c) You are the honkiest cracker that has ever lived.
d) You know how black people took the slur “nigger” and started using it? That’s kind of what happened with “queer,” you asshat.

Joe the Bacherspondent doesn’t really understand the reappropriation of language that has been of historical import in the identity politics of marginalized groups but oh, maybe that kind of thinking is too abstract and complex for poor widdle ole Joe perhaps. So maybe we should let him off the hook for not understanding COMPLICATED ISSUES, considering he thought he made $250,000 in his nonexistent plumbing business. DON’T CONFUZZLE SAMUEL.

I would like to know who these gay friends of his are. Like the gay people Sarah Palin said she knew, but that one is more obvious I mean she played basketball in Alaska for Chrissake, of course there was a lesbian or two there. But I mean…his name isn’t Joe, he isn’t actually a plumber, does this guy even HAVE kids? If he does, I can safely speak for the gay community and say, “We don’t want them around us either.” Look at Sam and the queers, coming together on this issue, ahem. And where are his kids?! Shouldn’t he be taking care of them instead of yapping to nobody?! Is that what all his jobs are for, to pay child support? TRY HARDER.

I will say though, that considering this bald old whore introduced this whole NOBAMA IZ A SOSHALIST! meme, that he’s fine with states deciding on gay marriage. States like Iowa and Massachusetts and Connecticut  and Vermont and maybe New Hampshire and Maine too, eh Joe?

From the raped-of-its-humor-and-insight-by-the-Gawker-drones New Defamer:

Two New Seasons of Friday Night Lights Just Begging to Be Ignored Completely

Funny how this person thinks FNL is “laboriously-praised” (as opposed to, say Mad Men and Battlestar Galactica) while deeming it necessary to have recaps of Gossip Girl and The Real World.

In other Real World/Gays I Can’t Stand news, MTV is rolling out its Dustin Lance Black-penned Pedro movie (because a, uh, whole documentary series wasn’t enough?) tomorrow, on April Fool’s Day, because this the fooliest thing in the world and DL Black is a terrible writer as undeserving of his Oscar as Diablo Cody was. DL Black is this year’s Diablo Cody, except at least her TV thing stars Toni Collette, GEEZ. You lose, DL Black.

Hey, you know what’s fun?! Esquire‘s list of the 75 albums that every man should own. If by fun you mean shooting yourself in the face with semen. Which clearly, I do. Let us learn what it’s like to be a man from Esquire.

The Stone Roses, The Stone Roses
Brit pop’s platonic ideal.
Because when I think of manliness, I think of the British.

Lust for Life, Iggy Pop
In 1977 Iggy ran off to West Berlin with David Bowie to record an album so juiced with spleen that even cruise-line commercials can’t make it sound safe.
Because to be a man is to experience sodomy at least once.

Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, Pavement
Makes you shout and rant and cry and it surprises you and challenges you and angers you and brings you to your knees. Then it makes you hit play again.
Because there is no greater and more truthful document of the emotional struggles of American men than a glib singer jabbering nonsense about cutting your hair and beefing with grunge.

The Headphone Masterpiece, Cody Chessnut
Thirty-six R&B songs recorded on a four-track at home. Makes you wish the lo-fi approach wasn’t almost exclusively embraced by sad white kids.
Because affirmative action is a good thing! I swear! I voted for Barack Obama!

MTV Unplugged in New York, Nirvana
It’s the last time a huge band recorded a surprising album.
Because it’s important to be sad.

Woke on a Whaleheart, Bill Callahan
Because we’re all just like a bee that “tries to find purchase in a turning spoke from Memphis to Potomac never giving up hope.”
Because…I’m sorry, I can’t even figure out why this is necessary.

The Velvet Underground & Nico, Velvet Underground
Makes you think that a woman’s voice could do any rock band good. Lou Reed’s heroin-addled musical lifeblood, for so long dependent on grit and experimentation, is chastened and made beautiful.
Oh really? This is the first lady you have included in your list, guys.

Workin’ Together, Ike & Tina Turner
Because they never did anything nice… and easy. They only did it nice… and rough.
Oh look the second lady, who was beat a lot.

The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place, Explosions in the Sky
Words sometimes mess things up, fumbling, mumbling, and sometimes we need to be reminded what four super-earnest guys can do with some guitars and drums when they really care about what they leave behind. Chuck Klosterman once wrote that listening to Explosions in the Sky could make hanging drywall seem transcendental, and he was right. Make this record your soaring soundtrack to just about anything you might do – driving through snowy fields, playing with your kids after dinner, putting ink into the copy machine – and you’ll feel capable of achieving something powerful and beautiful at the same time.
Did you really need to write all that? Just say Friday Night Lights, the end.

Exile in Guyville, Liz Phair
Liz Phair can make you feel ashamed to be a man. And to want to make it up to her.
Because it’s okay to listen to girls talk sometimes, only if you want to bone her. (This is the third and final album on the list featuring a lead female singer, FYI).

Songs in the Key of Life, Stevie Wonder
Stevie Wonder can make magic in minutes, but this complex double album took him two years to produce. Gritty, funky, and lush.
Because I like soul music, really! So long as it sounds polite and polished even though I will call it “gritty” and “funky.”

Grace, Jeff Buckley
Because I am TORTURED, won’t you SAAAAAVVVE ME??!??!! Zach Braff.

I don’t know about you, but I feel like my dick grew an inch.

The Huffington Post has named Aaron Schock the hottest freshman Congressman.


He had sex with the gay Portland mayor I think is his previous claim to fame.

I have bone to pick with the Huffington Post though. Clearly they have dropped the ball. Who cares about this gayface? Who’s THIS right next to Pelosi?!?!!?


First person to get this dude in my room chained to the radiator wearing Christina Ricci’s Long Snake Moan outfit gets a dollar.

Lady #1: J____ was so mad because we went to the Chinese thing instead of watching the Gilmore Girls.

Lady #2: Is J______, you know…

Lady #1: Yeah.

Lady #2: Really?

Lady #1: Oh, totally! Can’t you tell that he’s…?

Lady #2: I mean, did he…confirm it?

Lady #1: Yeah, which is funny.

Lady #2: I know, like he really needs to confirm it.

Lady #1: Especially after seeing him with C_____ . It was pretty obvious.

GEE LADIES, WHATEVER ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? The Gilmore Girls reference and your embarrassment at even SAYING the word has me absolutely confuzzled.

Sitting by myself in the Angelika waiting for Doubt to start and someone else walks into the theatre. I think, “oh he’s cute. I wonder if he’s gay.”

His friends walk in a few minutes later and he greets one of them, saying “Hey tranny!!”

😦 And BOOOOOOO. Reason no. 2528579 that I am single, guys.

A political sex scandal (and GAY, no less!) where both participants are INCREDIBLY GOOD-LOOKING, WHAT?!

Here is newly-elected, probably soon-to-be-ousted, Portland mayor Sam Adams:


And here is his Lewinsky, a young man with the ludicrously gay porn-ready name of Beau Breedlove:


I mean, really. This is a landmark moment in politics that could have only happened after the inauguration of a black president. So, Rick Warren aside, THANK YOU OBAMA FOR ALL THIS HOPE AND CHANGE. Yes we can have political scandals where you don’t want to vomit at the thought of the participants en flagrante delicto.

Also I get that everyone is gaga over Breedlove because a) how is that name not already used for like a Sean Cody model; and b) he is a hot piece of young ass. Okay, but really? Not anything that spectacular. Oooooh he’s skinny yawn. But look at Sam Adams! Way hotter, rowr.

I have woken up now, thank you Portland.

Caption: Who’s the daddy? The segregated penguin couple, right, are seen here in their own enclosure quarrelling with another male over stolen eggs

Gay penguins are the greatest thing. Penguins have been one of my favorite animals ever since I was in kindergarten at St. Augustine’s Catholic School in Culver City and would have chocolate milk in a Tuxedo Sam igloo thermos.

A few posts back I talked about one of my romantic archetypes, so studiously titled “Lacrosse Captain” by my roommate. This is not to say that I haven’t had others; there’s Doughy White Boy, Sardonic Asian, Homey, Bespectacled Intellectual, and Louche Douche. Louche Douche is generally some sexily mean-looking guy who would probably beat the shit out of me at a moment’s notice. I think high school was instructive in the creation of this archetype.

Good recent examples of Louche Douche would be our GOP sideshow clowns like Plumber Samuelbacher Joe and Levi Johnston (although this kid actually seems kind of nice), various athletes (punk bitch Phillies pitcher Cole Hamels comes to mind), and Scott Caan. I don’t know anything about Scott Caan except his father is James Caan, and they both seem like douches. I also have never seen any movies starring Scott Caan except for Ocean’s 11, wherein he is mute or something, and Friends with Money, wherein he is a douchebag. So, perfect.

However, while I haven’t seen Varsity Blues or Into The Blue or Bluesy Blue McBlueyton, I can now happily say that I have seen Scott Caan’s meat and potatoes.