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Gay Bars & Old Men

I think I’m just going to stay home.

They opened up a new gay bar and cafe near where I live, so I went in the other afternoon to give it a look over. All they serve is health food and juice drinks. That’s fine with me; I’m not much of a drinker outside of an occasional beer anyway. But the real odd thing about this place is that there were no chairs. When I asked the guy at the counter about this, he said that was what the owner wanted. So I guess it’s not really a gay bar… It’s more of a fruit stand.

I was over at a friend’s house and he had a straight friend of his from work over and they were having a couple of beers. The straight guy was trying to fit in and mentioned that his uncle was gay. We started talking about how there are a lot of gay people in the world, blah, blah, blah. Then he mentioned that his brother was gay. We talked a little bit longer and he tells us that his son told him last week that he was gay. My friend finally spoke up and said” doesn’t anyone besides you in your family like women?” he said, “well, I just found out that my wife does”.

I went to the neighborhood dive last night and one of the regulars there is this old guy who’s about 80 or so and he was cussing a little bit and crying a little bit over his beer. When I asked him what was wrong, he said his boyfriend who is about 40 years younger than he is “wakes me up for sex every morning and then he makes me a huge breakfast. Then he makes me a sandwich with homemade bread for lunch and has my favorite tea ready and then we have sex again. Then for dinner he makes me a steak with sautéed mushrooms and my favorite dessert and then we have sex again.”

Finally I asked him “What in the hell are you crying about?” And he said: “I can’t remember where I live!”

And how was your week?


One Response to “Gay Bars & Old Men”

  1. Threes Company Says:

    […] I can hear the sad and judgmental laughter now, “three months, jesus what are you a couple of monks?” No my dear homos we are much worse then monks; we are, brace you’re selves now, sexually unadventurous! Vanilla for you hipster types. Matt and I are basically two dull fucks, more likely to do it with the lights off then a fat chick at a man brothel. From what I have been hearing from my far too nosey friends this is a recipe for monogamous disaster; akin to the unholy coupling of two power tops. Apparently, and this is first hand advice from my harem of daytime talk show “experts”; in a relationship you need to have two people whose sexual interests balance each other out. That is to say for every top there must be a bottom, every queen needs a butch, and cute little vanilla boys have to be coupled with a big leather daddy, kind of like Newton’s gay laws of motion. I’m not ready to go out and buy my very own riding crop; however I’ll put one on my Christmas list to shut them up. […]

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