Popingay

If gay were a choice, I'd choose gay

Tue, 23 Aug 2011 11:51:18 -0600

It’s well-documented that being gay is not a choice, and considering the one Xmas I received a...

Bonjour Bitches: The gayest cowboy since Brokeback Mountain

Sat, 20 Aug 2011 15:44:00 -0600

Being born and raised in a city whose main source of pride is the annual largest rodeo in the world,...

Be a lesbian. Get all the boobs! Everyone loves boobs....

Wed, 17 Aug 2011 11:46:06 -0600

Be a lesbian. Get all the boobs!

Everyone loves boobs. Whatever your sexual or gender orientation, those irresistible funbags are just a good time for everyone. Many a gay man when drunk finds himself attracted to their magical allure in a wholly non-sexual and yet still molesty way. And that says nothing about the straight men and lesbian lovers of boobs. Even straight women fall under their mammary magic and a bicurious thought or two may pass through her head.

That is why every lady should be a lesbian. Join us and keep a monopoly on boobs; a boob hoarding of epic proportions if you will. Be a lesbian, and you will have all the boobs!

—-

This has been a Public Service Announcement to inform, educate, and actively recruit new members to the queer community. We at Popingay are determined to make the world a little bit gayer one piece of propaganda at a time. Also, refer three friends and get a free ice cream cone*!

*-Offer does not imply actual offer of ice cream and in no way obligates anyone to purchase, give, or find ice cream for the referrer. The standard make-a-queer-get-a-toaster offer still applies. See store for details. Void where prohibited. No cash value.

[Original image source: Wikimedia Commons.]

Join the Gavy! More buttsex than the real Navy. (We know....

Mon, 15 Aug 2011 11:30:06 -0600

Join the Gavy! More buttsex than the real Navy. (We know. We’re surprised too.)

Thanks to the the good work of the Village People, and with enough jokes about seamen and phallic submarines to sink a ship, the Navy is as good a place to start as any to find us some new gay recruits. The Gavy offers uniforms with jaunty sailor hats and short-shorts, and offers more men than you can shake a stick at. Or penis as it were.

Duties include swabbing the deck, hoisting the sails, manning the keel, battening down the hatches (whose hatches? Who cares? We don’t judge), and other nautical-themed innuendo (jokes may require some assembly).

Join today and get a free life-jacket* because you cannot, surprisingly, fuck your way to successful ship navigation. We lost 3 ships before we figured that one out.

—-

*-Offer does not imply actual offer of life jacket and in no way obligates anyone to purchase, give, or find ice cream for the referrer. The standard make-a-queer-get-a-toaster offer still applies. See store for details. Void where prohibited. No cash value.

I am shamed by the robotic multifunctional penises of this...

Sun, 14 Aug 2011 12:00:06 -0600

I am shamed by the robotic multifunctional penises of this statue in front of the Franz Kafka museum in Prague. Although I got to visit a quite brilliant museum about one of literature’s greatest and most bizarre minds, I also realized that never would I be able to so thoroughly control my penis as to write famous and SMS quotations in a fountain, though I have been warned about pulling my junk out in public—apparently that’s not a good thing? Still, if you have a penis of this sort, please contact me immediately so that we can chat. Chat being a euphemism.

Bonjour Bitches: Mute, drunk, & disorderly conduct; or, public unconsciousness

Sat, 13 Aug 2011 11:01:06 -0600

Within two days of arriving in Montreal I lost my voice. It remains to be determined whether it was...

Fellow LGBTQ(etc.) people, isn’t it time we came out of...

Wed, 10 Aug 2011 13:01:06 -0600

Fellow LGBTQ(etc.) people, isn’t it time we came out of the closet? No, I’m not talking about coming out as LGBTQ, queer, People Who Don’t Suck™, and/or FABGLITTERs. I’m talking about coming out with the real truth about the gay/queer agenda, and it’s every bit as nefarious as those social conservatives thought.

Our rainbow-encrusted crusade began with the simple recognition of our existence. Try as they might, crazy people with nothing better to do than fret about the romantic and sexual lives of other people were never able to stamp our bright flame out. Instead they forced us to the fringes of society and pretended we weren’t there.

Driven underground, it was not until Stonewall that our struggle to be seen came to a head: we were here, we were queer, and oh my god we were lighting shit on fire.

Our time was here, and through riots, demonstrations, and tireless work of many people, in the coming decades we came out of the closets and into the streets. The people who had hated and ignored us for so long suddenly realised that we did indeed exist, but years of false calm had left them weak, and we needed to feed. The streets ran red with blood as we sank our fangs… wait, that’s vampires. Sorry.

But we are like vampires in two ways:

People fear us (and, uh, I guess our deadly spangly pants?)
We can only grow by recruiting fresh blood.

Well, social and religious conservatives, you were right. Gold star! Unable to reproduce by ourselves, we must convert straight people to our glittery ways. I mean, gay people never come from straight people. Instead we convert good little heterosexual boys and girls, and turn them into raging queerosexuals. Although you might believe this involves some terrible sort of face-hugging alien to force eggs down your throat, that was all in the past; thanks to new technology, we have come a long way in ensuring a much more pleasant assimilation for all of you.

You see, we’ve perfected it by making any tiny, seemingly insignificant, contact with queerness to be a gateway into rampant ass-fucking, scissoring, gender-bending glory. And you didn’t even know it.

Boy gets his nails painted pink? BAM! Queer for life.
Lady walks into a Home Depot? BAM! Muff diver.
Boy takes a cooking class? BAM! The only thing he’ll be packing is fudge.

And it all starts with the little things:

Legalize gay marriage? Well, then everyone will want one. Because everyone is really gay underneath it all.
Teach kids in school about LGBT history, or worse yet tell them it’s okay to be queer? Then they’ll all be gay! Just like handing out condoms makes teens have sex against their will.
Pass anti-discrimination legislation? Without the legal right to openly hate on an entire group of people based on immutable characteristics, whom do we have left to hate? I mean, we have to hate someone. (I personally believe it should be mouth-breathers.)

So why should we come out and reveal our devious plan to turn the world into gay-land? Because it’s never been a friendlier time for queer folks. There’s gay marriage (in some places), anti-discrimination legislation, and science has come down on the side of prayer being as effective on erasing gayness as it is on willing away herpes.

And that means it’s time to introduce our final solution: open recruitment.

No longer are we satisfied to subtly recruit people through the protection of freedom and individual liberties, now we want you to join us, and we want you to know! I, and the rest of the FABGLITTER ARMY are embarking on a mission to openly change your sexuality via persuasive propaganda and the promise of a free bag of confetti.

We are coming out, and we are coming for you.

Eating ice cream in public makes me feel violated

Mon, 08 Aug 2011 12:01:06 -0600

It’s no big secret that I’m not good with heat. I don’t mind the occasional warm...

If everyone will allow me one uninterrupted moment of sheer...

Sun, 07 Aug 2011 12:17:05 -0600

If everyone will allow me one uninterrupted moment of sheer geekiness, my visit to Buda Castle left me humming Epona’s song in the hopes my trusty steed would burst out of Lon Lon Ranch and come ride off with me.

What? Ocarina of Time was one of my favourite N64 games. Oh Zelda, you’re so culturally relevant.

(Now it’s back to Prague.)

I saw this delightful contraption making its way down the street...

Fri, 05 Aug 2011 11:01:15 -0600

I saw this delightful contraption making its way down the street last night. If you can’t really tell, it’s a mobile pub in bicycle form powered by the peddling of the people sitting at the bar. The guy steering seems to be the bartender-cum-steerer.

I want one of these as soon as possible. Not only does it seem like a really convenient way to get home after the bar, but it also would be beyond my wildest dreams to just be strolling down the street and hop on the bar to my destination like some sort of alcohol-infused trolley.

Granted there’s the whole movement and pedaling thing, what with my extreme aversion to excessive movement, but I think this would help me justify my never stopping drinking by letting me believe that whatever calories I take in in alcohol must be immediately burned off by the activity of helping to move my bar around the city. Not that it’d be true, but I routinely eat a cookie after the gym thinking “good job, self!” so yeah, I’m pretty satisfied with my delusions.

—-

P.S. On a completely unrelated note, I’m sitting in the hotel lobby with a loud, drinking group of English men, they seem the same to me, and I can never really seem to tell the difference between gay and British men. Or when they’re one and the same, which would just end in an explosion of gayness even I couldn’t handle. /end racism.

I decided to make a video so you too can know what it’s...

Thu, 04 Aug 2011 11:45:05 -0600

I decided to make a video so you too can know what it’s like to be on vacation with me. It’s usually full of uncomfortable comments. Also, although I may have said that I like the sound of my own voice at the end of the video, I have a serious case of gay-voice upon review. But as though you expected anything else.

Once upon a time when visiting Phoenix with my dear friend...

Wed, 03 Aug 2011 11:05:05 -0600

Once upon a time when visiting Phoenix with my dear friend Chelsea, I came home from a night on the town, crawled into bed with her, and immediately begin screaming for her to “let me chew on your beef jerky vagina!”.

I was completely wasted if that weren’t readily apparent. And, if you know me at all, it isn’t.

I somehow got it into my head that vaginas were made of beef jerky and that I had to EAT IT RIGHT NOW in what can only be described as the least sex-involved sexual assault in the history of humankind.

Being that my only experience with vaginas was through childbirthing videos on Youtube (note: there are a lot of these. Like a lot a lot.) and the nightmarish imaginings that make all gay men afraid of the lady-cave, it’s pretty confusing why I would ever have this idea. I mean, nowhere in my entire life had I expressed any interest in vaginas outside of medical curiosity and thinking of all the places the teeth must hide (I should probably also mention that the movie “Teeth” and the concept of the vagina dentata factor heavily into my interpretation of what is involved in a vagina), and the idea that it being made of beef jerky is both confusing and generally not appealing. I’m pretty sure telling someone their genitals are like dried, salted chewy meat that comes in BBQ and teriyaki flavors doesn’t make you their favourite person in the world. Probably quite the opposite.

However, I proceeded to attack Chelsea and at one point pulled her, legs spread, over my face as I’d seen the few times I’d ventured into lesbian-porn-land out of curiosity. (By the way, fake lesbian porn for straight men of the world, hideously long lady-claws would never be prominently featured on a real lesbian for rather obvious reasons. Just though you should know that.) I then promptly pushed her off my face screaming rape and “why would you rape me?!” as though I were the one horrifically violated in the bed I shared with a gay man who inexplicably insisted that we share a bed even though there were, not one but two, serviceable beds in the next room.

Needless to say, that our sharing a bed would never be quite the same for the rest of the trip. Though we still did. Because that’s what love is: putting up with the alcohol-induced psychosis of your platonic gay friends.

However, when I passed through the Frankfurt airport the other day, I saw this stand-up ad where you pull bags of beef jerky off a lady as though that would reveal her naked body. I firmly stand by the belief that my theory on beef jerky’s similarity to a vagina is thus vindicated.

Sexism has never been so useful.

On the road again

Tue, 02 Aug 2011 14:12:20 -0600

Just a note to clarify some things. After getting back from Montreal at the beginning of July (see:...

Bonjour Bitches: I'm Homeless

Tue, 02 Aug 2011 11:05:06 -0600

After deciding at the absolute last minute (read: 10 days before) to go to Montreal for 5 weeks, I...

The Frankfurt Airport may be gayer than anyone ever imagined. I...

Mon, 01 Aug 2011 13:26:00 -0600

The Frankfurt Airport may be gayer than anyone ever imagined. I spotted this helpful icon on every security card reader. If you look right in the middle you’ll see it’s emblazoned with “FAG”. In fact, the Frankfurt Airport company’s official abbreviation is FAG (thank you Google), so I’m pretty sure this is yet another subtle sign from the gay mafia that we’re taking over everything. Or that no one bothers to Google their acronyms to check for unintentional meanings in other languages.

Also, does this mean I get into secure airport areas with my FAG card? Because when they sent me mine the guy said something about special benefits, but I couldn’t really hear him over the sound of confetti cannons and techno music.

Bonjour Bitches

Mon, 01 Aug 2011 06:46:40 -0600

Well, internet, it’s been a while. I don’t like to stay too far away in case I start to...

Why I will never understand webcamming

Sat, 04 Jun 2011 11:48:28 -0600

Webcamming is just watching poorly-lit porn with less attractive people, and a little window in the...

Calgary's Dyke Underground Comes Out

Fri, 13 May 2011 19:27:34 -0600

Calgary's Dyke Underground Comes Out: Oh hey, what? Kris has some writing on another website? Some...

5 Reasons Why I Make A Terrible Boyfriend

Fri, 13 May 2011 13:00:53 -0600

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they’re like: I’m lactose intolerant....

6 Ridiculous Weight-Loss Schemes I've Considered

Thu, 12 May 2011 15:38:00 -0600

Every May I routinely give the impression that I’m some sort of inflatable device filled with...