TheBunnyBlog.com - October 6, 2007

"The only solution we have to stop gays from recruiting other people is to cut off the source. They need to be taken to specialized containment centers where they will be forced to become straight and accept Jesus as thier [sic] savior and to repent from their disgusting, wicket [sic], hatful [sic?], devilish ways. Those that refuse to go can either be forced, or banished from society in other specialized communities where they have no connetion [sic] to the outside world at all. Most would die of AIDS anyway. Anyone who refused any of the answers to make them better would have to be killed or banished."

~The wisdom of "Meg," a member of the Myspace.com "Anti-gay Club", Aug-24-2007

Fundies. Ah, the fundies. How I love to read the webbings that spring forth from their illogical little minds. I have a clandestine user account on the TrueChristian.org message board--clandestine but active--the private message backlog of which makes my account over at the Death Metal message board read like a Disney script.

"If God doesn't kill all the faggots soon I think we should do it in his honore [sic]," says Xion8767.

"Ur [sic] a faggot for thinking faggots r [sic] ok [sic]," adds AngelEyes9. I thought eating the occasional pussy made me a "faggot," but clearly faggotry extends beyond the borders of my own silly definition. I thank AngelEyes9 for setting me straight--no pun intended.

I've spent a good amount of time conversing with fundies, and I say I'd rather bareback an amphetimized Renato Sobral than chill with a fundie. I think it would be safer. What if I checked out a pair of fundie tits? I'd be sent to a fundie death camp in somebody's basement, and you can be sure they wouldn't show me the decency or compassion of finishing the choke before pulling out the branding irons. At that point, I might as well be Jewish.

Man, people fucking hate gays. You'd think this would be the reason I don't come out as a big old lesbo, but its not. Everybody tells me this: they say, "Bunny, bisexuality is just a trainstop on the way to GayTown." I hate that one. You know why I hate that one? Because I'd gladly live in either one, should I fit the bill. The towns between GayTown (where everyone and everything but teal are accepted with open arms and legs) and StraightTown don't exist. It's all open territory between the two, like the hinterlands between Manhattan and Provincetown. If you aren't gay, and I'm just not, you don't relate to anyone in GayTown. If you're not straight, and I'm just not, you don't relate to anyone in StraightTown. So you strike out on your own, right? Open territory can be dangerous. Open territory is like Wyoming; scenic, but when you get upitty you get tied to a split rail fence and beaten gelatenous. There are no parades in open territory. There is no identity, no boundaries, no pride. Nothing is clear. Your sexuality is completely undefined. You like pink, but can really wield a circular saw. You Brazilian wax, yet eschew the dress. Your perfect man is hairy, and sweaty; he chops wood and has double D tits (how fucked up is that?)

I sort of intimately know this sexy lesbian--story to come--who was much younger than me, but had picked up some wisdom I missed in life. She said, "Don't be bisexual. It is confusing and sad. If you're bi, just be gay. It's easier."

Sometimes I think about that when I get ready for my day. My medicine cabinet has toothpaste, a bottle of aspirin, an almost fully unused case of eyeshadow and two bottles of scent in it. When I go for the dental floss, I'm reminded of my sexual confusion. The two bottles of scent I own are the Armani "His" and "Hers" bottles, the black and gold ones--the "His" version--cologne--sporting a tiny outcropping near the spritzer hole, suggestive of a penis, and the "Hers" version--perfume--sporting an indentation near the spritzer hole, suggestive of a vagina. If you put the bottles together, they fuck. When I go out with a woman, I put on the "His." When I go out with a man, I put on the "Hers." I think, Holy shit, this is confusing, but how can I live without cock?

You know, I could always just follow the advice of BrianOfFaith, and "kill the gay satan within [me] with prayer and love for Christ," but I've come to sort of like gay satan. I think he's very misunderstood. He brings me immense pleasure. I pray to him. I say, "Dear Gay Satan, send me a burly, sweaty man with big tits." Maybe this Christmas he'll come through. If he does, well sheesh, that's better than dying for my sins. Sorry Jesus, but it is. And really, what's the difference between the devil and a fundie? It's nominal.

Posted by The Bunny at 12:18 AM