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• 6 years ago
WELCOME TO MY COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET PARTY!
community » Discussions » Topic » News & Politics » Discussion » WELCOME TO MY COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET PARTY!
By:
eat-the-press-do-not-read-it
CAUTION: Big Boy language slung about "Chere"! If you are queer that way and are offended by words, but, not by deeds, please, by all means available, speed, speed away from "Chere."
- Thank you, the Management!
Friends, Romans, Countrymen, and, fellow Lesbians, you, all are INVITED to My "COMING OUT PARTY"! Finally, after all these years (76.7) I am coming out of the "closet". Won't you "come out" with me. The waters warm.
Do you know how much it stinks in there? The dirty shoes, the unwashed socks, the forgotten dry cleaning?
Stand up, turn yourself about, and shake it all out.
Do the Hokey-Pokey, and sit down on someone's lap.
Set Yourself FREE!
Get up off your bending knee.
Tell Re-Puritans to suck their own Jonson!
Set yourself free, secretive, Lefties!
I did it, you can, too.
I no longer have to hide my true feelings, my impulses, or, my longings.
Because, this day, I, Solemnly, Declare to the World, that, "I AM A LEFT LEANING LIBERAL And, Proud of It, Pumpkin."
No longer will I stand with that, lying, slimeball, "Traitor," Trump at freezing NFL games. From now on, I will, "Take a Knee" with the players. Even, in those rare moments when it is to the groin.
I will not, however, take a bullet for them! I am not Cohen!
I am free, free at last! I tell you freedom is incredible.
I should have "come out" decades ago. But, like, perhaps, you, I was afraid of what my wife, my only son, and, grandkids might think.
Gracious and lovingly, they all said that they knew that I was sleeping in the closet.
They sweetly explained to me, as I sat at the kitchen table, bawling my eyes out listening to their supportive remarks.
Even, in that awkward moment when my right eye, betrayed me, fell out of its socket and rolled across the kitchen floor only to stop at the refrigerator door, staring up at me.
"It's OK, Poppa", I heard one say, "we didn't mind that you are maligned as a LEFT LEANING LIBERAL. We had no idea what that meant. That doesn't change anything. We still don't like you.
I can honestly say the only thing that changed was, now, they ask for more money.
In my "Closeted Days", to avoid being seen, I would rush out of the house early in the morning. But, I couldn't shake the suspicion that something was amiss.
In my haste, I often forgot to remove the hanger from my shirt. It betrayed me daily, peeking out from the back of my shirt collar.
Back in those "Dark Days Of Yore," I constantly denied my "true feelings," even going, so far, as voting for "Ronnie" Reagan in 1980.
In a panic, to avoid detection, I impulsively joined the party of Lincoln, only to be assigned membership to the Log Cabin branch of the Republican party.
To prove my manhood, I got the requisite "burr haircut," bought a blue suit, white shirt, and, a solid red tie.
But, It wasn't me.
To appease my nagging conscious, I would leave my "barn door" on my trousers unzipped.
Out of intense desperation, on Friday the 13th, I finally caved in and signed up for "Conversion Therapy.
Barely literate Calcified Conservatives would read books by Goldwater,
Ayn Rand, and, BRUCE WILLIS' Tweets, 24/7.
In a matter of minutes, I started to talk like our Fake Prez, "the Donald."
I learned "cuss words," and, hurtful phrases like "meathead, liberal commie, pinko, and, worse, "fag," that I hurled like confetti as we crewed through the ghettoes shooting the place up with our AR 15s!
To fit in with my pack, I "packed" a loaded handgun, instead of a pack of "sugar-free" gum.
If truth be told, I was miserable hiding my true-self from myself, by myself.
I was getting more and more mixed up with each passing day.
I would pretend not to cry during sad scenes in movies. I went to boring baseball games with my sweaty, ill-mannered, loud, trash-talking friends.
I was forced to clapped with these Neanderthals when our team hit the ball with a stick.
Shamefully, I booed the other side, when they did not.
Slowly, incrementally, I grew tired of tripping old folks on Social Security, as they maneuvered the stadium steps.
The hollow, empty laughter of my peers, mingling with the screams of the frail, old folks ( obviously on food stamp) no longer brought me joy.
I couldn't help but feel sorry for them as their flopping bodies careened head over heels, down three flights of steps, heads banging into the hard concrete, blood splattering everywhere on the steep steps of Riverfront Stadium, home to the Cincinnati Red Legs.
There was no joy in that. No joy, either, in discovering how Cincinnati's baseball team got its nickname, "Red Legs".
Often, on the way home from the game, I tuned my companions out as we rode through some of the marginal neighborhoods "making fun of poor working class people."
These activities no longer filled me with a "sense of superiority."
I longed to be as I was in my youth, "fancy-free, sashaying back and forth with Apumb", a sexy, busty, free-spirited woman that I met at Woodstock! She taught me many things, even taught me what "Around the World" meant.
Now, thanks to LEAPING OUT OF THE CLOSET, I am free, free at long last.
I long for the day when my children's children will no longer be recognized for what political party they belonged to, but, by the contents of their skin tone.
So, F-off, bullies! You empty-headed Trump Athletic supporters. BTW, asswipes, the jock strap goes over your "Jonson," not over your head.
Might I say, also, so long, religious bigots, hope you all rot in HELL!
I was the one who took money out of the collection plate, not put money in it. Take me to Heaven and sue me there.
Wow, that felt great, was it good for you, too, liberated YOURSELF!
Embrace your "left-leaning Liberal tendencies," and, set free a "cage child," or, just beat the shit out of a Republican, whichever comes first.
WELCOME TO MY COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET PARTY!
community » Discussions » Topic » News & Politics » Discussion » WELCOME TO MY COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET PARTY!
By:
eat-the-press-do-not-read-it
CAUTION: Big Boy language slung about "Chere"! If you are queer that way and are offended by words, but, not by deeds, please, by all means available, speed, speed away from "Chere."
- Thank you, the Management!
Friends, Romans, Countrymen, and, fellow Lesbians, you, all are INVITED to My "COMING OUT PARTY"! Finally, after all these years (76.7) I am coming out of the "closet". Won't you "come out" with me. The waters warm.
Do you know how much it stinks in there? The dirty shoes, the unwashed socks, the forgotten dry cleaning?
Stand up, turn yourself about, and shake it all out.
Do the Hokey-Pokey, and sit down on someone's lap.
Set Yourself FREE!
Get up off your bending knee.
Tell Re-Puritans to suck their own Jonson!
Set yourself free, secretive, Lefties!
I did it, you can, too.
I no longer have to hide my true feelings, my impulses, or, my longings.
Because, this day, I, Solemnly, Declare to the World, that, "I AM A LEFT LEANING LIBERAL And, Proud of It, Pumpkin."
No longer will I stand with that, lying, slimeball, "Traitor," Trump at freezing NFL games. From now on, I will, "Take a Knee" with the players. Even, in those rare moments when it is to the groin.
I will not, however, take a bullet for them! I am not Cohen!
I am free, free at last! I tell you freedom is incredible.
I should have "come out" decades ago. But, like, perhaps, you, I was afraid of what my wife, my only son, and, grandkids might think.
Gracious and lovingly, they all said that they knew that I was sleeping in the closet.
They sweetly explained to me, as I sat at the kitchen table, bawling my eyes out listening to their supportive remarks.
Even, in that awkward moment when my right eye, betrayed me, fell out of its socket and rolled across the kitchen floor only to stop at the refrigerator door, staring up at me.
"It's OK, Poppa", I heard one say, "we didn't mind that you are maligned as a LEFT LEANING LIBERAL. We had no idea what that meant. That doesn't change anything. We still don't like you.
I can honestly say the only thing that changed was, now, they ask for more money.
In my "Closeted Days", to avoid being seen, I would rush out of the house early in the morning. But, I couldn't shake the suspicion that something was amiss.
In my haste, I often forgot to remove the hanger from my shirt. It betrayed me daily, peeking out from the back of my shirt collar.
Back in those "Dark Days Of Yore," I constantly denied my "true feelings," even going, so far, as voting for "Ronnie" Reagan in 1980.
In a panic, to avoid detection, I impulsively joined the party of Lincoln, only to be assigned membership to the Log Cabin branch of the Republican party.
To prove my manhood, I got the requisite "burr haircut," bought a blue suit, white shirt, and, a solid red tie.
But, It wasn't me.
To appease my nagging conscious, I would leave my "barn door" on my trousers unzipped.
Out of intense desperation, on Friday the 13th, I finally caved in and signed up for "Conversion Therapy.
Barely literate Calcified Conservatives would read books by Goldwater,
Ayn Rand, and, BRUCE WILLIS' Tweets, 24/7.
In a matter of minutes, I started to talk like our Fake Prez, "the Donald."
I learned "cuss words," and, hurtful phrases like "meathead, liberal commie, pinko, and, worse, "fag," that I hurled like confetti as we crewed through the ghettoes shooting the place up with our AR 15s!
To fit in with my pack, I "packed" a loaded handgun, instead of a pack of "sugar-free" gum.
If truth be told, I was miserable hiding my true-self from myself, by myself.
I was getting more and more mixed up with each passing day.
I would pretend not to cry during sad scenes in movies. I went to boring baseball games with my sweaty, ill-mannered, loud, trash-talking friends.
I was forced to clapped with these Neanderthals when our team hit the ball with a stick.
Shamefully, I booed the other side, when they did not.
Slowly, incrementally, I grew tired of tripping old folks on Social Security, as they maneuvered the stadium steps.
The hollow, empty laughter of my peers, mingling with the screams of the frail, old folks ( obviously on food stamp) no longer brought me joy.
I couldn't help but feel sorry for them as their flopping bodies careened head over heels, down three flights of steps, heads banging into the hard concrete, blood splattering everywhere on the steep steps of Riverfront Stadium, home to the Cincinnati Red Legs.
There was no joy in that. No joy, either, in discovering how Cincinnati's baseball team got its nickname, "Red Legs".
Often, on the way home from the game, I tuned my companions out as we rode through some of the marginal neighborhoods "making fun of poor working class people."
These activities no longer filled me with a "sense of superiority."
I longed to be as I was in my youth, "fancy-free, sashaying back and forth with Apumb", a sexy, busty, free-spirited woman that I met at Woodstock! She taught me many things, even taught me what "Around the World" meant.
Now, thanks to LEAPING OUT OF THE CLOSET, I am free, free at long last.
I long for the day when my children's children will no longer be recognized for what political party they belonged to, but, by the contents of their skin tone.
So, F-off, bullies! You empty-headed Trump Athletic supporters. BTW, asswipes, the jock strap goes over your "Jonson," not over your head.
Might I say, also, so long, religious bigots, hope you all rot in HELL!
I was the one who took money out of the collection plate, not put money in it. Take me to Heaven and sue me there.
Wow, that felt great, was it good for you, too, liberated YOURSELF!
Embrace your "left-leaning Liberal tendencies," and, set free a "cage child," or, just beat the shit out of a Republican, whichever comes first.