|Mr. Purple Cat Esq. |
Was he really caught jerking dudes off in parking lots?
If so thats hilarious! :D
he's got rent boy with "no rules" written all over.
THE BEAR SPECTRUM:
Bear: Gay man over the age of 35 who carries some weight and doesn’t shave body hair or beard.
Chub: Gay man who carries weight, typically shaves, proud of being heavy. No age requirement.
Gainer: Gay man who is actively seeking obesity.
Chaser: Gay man who isn’t overweight into fat men.
Cub: Gay man under the age of 35 who carries some weight and doesn’t shave body hair or beard.
Otter: Gay man over the age of 35 who cultivates body hair but isn’t overweight.
Wolf: Gay man over the age of 35 who cultivates body hair but also engages in bodybuilding.
Pig: Gay man heavily into the fetish scene, can be anywhere on the Bear Spectrum, who also enjoys sweat, piss, scat and competitive feats of anal strength such as fisting, prolapsing, rosebudding and dangerously large butt plugs.
When did the gay community and furry community start sharing naming conventions?
Or is there more overlap here than previously thought?
Just give it time. His next sermon:
How to forgive pastors that jerk off other dudes in parking lots.
Every single self-identified otter I've known was well under 30 so I call bullshit on the whole "over 35" qualifier on some of those, but otherwise that was a very educational list.
Also, while this has nothing to do with furries the earliest printed reference to gay bears I could find is a document in the Cornell Human Sexuality Collection from 1990, which would suggest that the idea o gay bears actually IS roughly contemporaneous with or newer than the early development of furry culture back in the 70s.
This article claims it's as recent as 1989!
Everyone knows Buddy Cole as played by Scott Thompson invented bears, he wrote about it in his Pulitzer Ignored book, Buddy Babylon. It remains the only book written by a gay man worth reading (I am looking at you, Gore Vidal).
I still think there's something here with the furry community.
|Oscar Wildcat |
Easiest way is to avoid using the church men's room after services.
Well, those gay waiters are just too distracting with their lisps, and their sin, and their tight shirts, and sculpted butts, and pants bulges that you can't stop dreaming about...Excuse me, I have to go outside for a moment.
Stroke on gay Walter.
And fires in his eye.
This is why Jesus only went to churches that hated him, because they deserved it.
The youtube comments include some christians who are disgusted with this guy. It was nice to see.
|Binro the Heretic |
Alternate title: "How To Get Food With Spit In It"
|Maggot Brain |
Yeah! The last thing I want to think about when I'm taking my ham beast of wife to Olive Garden is being held in the secure, muscular arms of another man while he tells me "shhhh, it's going to be allright, baby."
You know the ridiculousness is richer if his wife is pretty, right?
That foo foo waiter and his taut frame and juicy fat cock will always live in shame now. Every day he sweats over the fumes in the kitchen or answers the call of various men shouting for his attention in a room full of people eating, devouring flesh, he will think why, why, why...
Just the mere thought of that waiter, with sweat dripping down his face as he scurries around all that bustling, busy cacophony. Shouting things back and forth to the kitchen. The rush hour slides slowly away and then one day his pastor will return. Their eyes will lock briefly and Pastor Fannin will glance away furtively, mumbling something about prayer. He'll sit alone at a table looking over his menu, and wave over a waitress mustering in as masculine a voice as he can muster. A masc voice. A mask voice.
He'll wait until he's the last person there and they are closing up. He'll check his phone for the text messages. Waiting, getting more nervous. God is always watching.
Then the waiter is there telling him: "Time to go," and he doesn't say it delicately. That smile. That knowing smile. The foo foo voice is for college girls and their moms who love to tip. Next comes the voice that has an...edge.
As they walk into the night, Pastor Fannin follows behind the tall, beautiful angel as the fog rolls in and a car door opens.
"Get in, Pastor Faggot."
There's no foo foo left, and he doesn't want there to be.
Five for evil.
Pray for strength there, big guy. You won't be much use in the war at the end of days if you're this much of a crybaby.
I'll bet he's one of those guys who leaves fake tips. "Your salvation is more important than money," etc.
|Shanghai Tippytap |
sorry to put a kink in the circlejerk but its entirely possible that he just hates gays without secretly loving men
Fiiiiiiiiiiine. But is nobody going to mention the mason jar of moonshine on the pulpit?
He doesn't have to love them to piledrive them in the rectory basement.
At the least it's a sign of severe insecurity. The biggest male homophobes you'll find are also the ones that wont shut up about how manly they are.
|That guy |
I went fishing in Montana and there was a gay waiter in one of the restaurants out there, and I felt sorry for the guy.
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