Some of you may find this a bit hard to take, so if you’d rather not be offended by poofs, lezzies, pillow-munchers and batters for the other team, please do not click the ‘continue reading’ thingummy.
Also, my admission to being anti-gay may come as a surprise to even my closest friends, but be that as it may, I intend to use this blog to come out as it were, and tell the world what I think of my dislike of Gay Pride marches, my disappointment in non-hetero human nature, and a general feeling of despair when it comes to correct human sexual orientation.
Ah, so you want to see how I’m going to dig myself out of that hole?
Just to be straight, I really do have a serious problem with the whole gay pride movement, and places like Old Compton Street in London make me rather sad – rather, to experience an underlying feeling of disappointment with my fellow humans.
Fifty gays to leave your lover
According to current social convention, I am not ‘gay’, but my brother is. More specifically, he likes playing with other men’s willies, while I would really rather not. As far as I know that is, as to be perfectly honest, I’ve (almost) never had the opportunity. A silly addition to the few labels for sexual orientation that do exist, is the clever-but-awful ‘bi-curious’, which seems to me to have been made up by ostensibly ‘straight’ people to make it possible for them to admit to the possibility of a sexual detour, without them sliding down the slippery – or lubricated – slope to full-on gayness.
There has always been the label of ‘bisexual’ of course, but it only really makes it possible to identify a group of otherwise ‘normal’ human beings as being ‘other’ (although it must be said that just about every ‘straight’ man has at some point fantasised about striking up a relationship with a couple of bisexual females – me included, it also has to be said).
But now we’re getting to the nub (or nob) of the problem, as the more I look at it, the more ridiculous it seems that there are these very broad terms with which we attempt to herd other humans into smaller and smaller pens. As I said earlier, I have indeed been curious about what it would be like to have sex with a man (but not a bloke). My brother once said to me that only a man really knows how to do a blow-job… to which I really didn’t have a reply (although it didn’t stop me from furthering my studies with women).
The closest I came to finding out was a while before I’d had that conversation. I came to be acquainted with a guy from Thailand at a place I used to hang out in London. I say acquainted, as we only ever saw each other there, and we’d chat about this and that, along with everyone else doing some hanging. He was kind of soft without being feminine, and was obviously a very kind person. He eventually asked me out for a meal, which in my usual naiveté I took at face value – food being one of the major topics for all of us.
During the appointed repast, my naiveté was swept away by his honesty – and vice versa, as I made it very clear that I was seeing a girlie. But the meal was great, and afterwards he offered to drive me home… and I offered that he stop for a drink and stay over, as there was a spare room available.
Eventually I led him to his bedroom and bed, which he got into and had one last go at persuading me that he’d be gentle with me. I very graciously declined and left for my own bed… where I lay awake for hours, wondering if I’d let the chance of my particular lifetime pass me by.
Yes I had. I’ve had no desire to try willie-playing ever since, but I do still wonder.
Definitely not the tiniest bit gay.
Much more then that.
What I’m trying to get over here, not least to those who know me as a bird-botherer, is that I am certain that no one – NO ONE PERSON, EVER – can be labelled as being sexually-anything. We all are made up of bits of this and bits of that, in varying portions and mixes. If we could only accept and grasp that fact, we wouldn’t have to waste our time with trying to divide everybody up into tidy-yet-meaningless groupings.
Everyone would be able to marry anyone (apart from close family, natch), we could have Human Pride festivals and yet another version of bigotry will be history. And perhaps by recognising that we are all shady characters, we will also find the true potential in each of us.
I’ll give it another three thousand years or so, but that time will come.
Then again, maybe we’ll apply the same reasoning to other aspects of being human in which the rest of us have no business to be prying. I’m thinking vegetarians, or maybe followers of Croatian pop music here… it’s just that my bigotry is different from that of your average self-righteous twat.
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