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November 15, 2009

There’s a brilliant episode of Seinfeld where Jerry is mistaken for being gay because he’s thin, single, and neat.

In the episode, a reporter mistakes Jerry and George for a gay couple and the false story grows and grows until it threatens to ruin their lives. And there’s a brilliant politically correct tagline used in the episode whenever they defend themselves which is, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” With that one simple line, Jerry and George could proudly defend their heterosexuality without offending anyone in the gay community.

I’d like to point out that there are a few people out there who think I might be gay as well. And these people, in most cases, are family members or people who knew me from my pre-college years. And although I’m not thin and neat – I’m actually fat and slovenly -- I assume these people assume I might be gay for these three reasons:

-I don’t like sports.

-I never had a girlfriend in high school.

-I look fabulous in hot pink.

All of those reasons are true -- except for the hot pink thing. I tried, but I couldn’t pull it off.

And it should be noted that I also like the movie “Brokeback Mountain.”

I like it, not so much for the gay love story, but more for Randy Quaid’s performance as the confused ranch supervisor who hires the two gay cowboys. The look of disgust on his face as he watches Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist through his binoculars, as they run around all naked, snapping wet towels at each other is priceless.

Anyway, because of those reasons above, some of my relatives have suspected that I might be gay. Here are a few examples:

1) My sister-in-law, the one married to my asshole brother who you can read about here:


Well the first time I met her, she made some crack about me going to Vermont to get married in some inside joke she and my brother had referencing the state’s legalization of gay marriage -- and my need to go there, apparently because I’m gay.

2) The last time I talked to my father, He abused his poor hearing for an excuse to jump in with “gay bars?” when I said I liked going to “dive bars.” That was the smallest insult from him on that trip.

3) The most fearsome accusations came from a couple of lesbian cousins I have. The younger lesbian cousin outright asked me if I was gay, while the elder lesbian chose a more subtle approach -- she invited me back to her lesbian safe-haven, deep in the woods of Maine, after a night of drinking, in what I assume was an attempt to provide a safe environment for me to come out of the closet.

In light of those gay accusations, I’d like to now take this opportunity to defend my heterosexuality. And unlike the politically correct episode of Seinfeld, I really don’t care if I’m offending anyone in the gay community. Why? BECAUSE I’M NOT GAY.

For evidence to defend my heterosexuality, I’d like to share with you something even more personal than mere hook-up stories. For this, I feel I need to open up my vault and share my most embarrassing and perverted masturbation stories. Why? BECAUSE I’M NOT GAY.


My grade school friend, fat Mikey Hayden, had a cute older sister named Julie. He also had a swimming pool which I would go swimming in all the time. The best thing about swimming in Mikey’s pool is that Julie wore this white bathing suit that you could see her pubes through when underwater.

I was constantly trying to “hold my breath” as a cover just so I could go underwater to open up my eyes and kinda, barely, vaguely see the image of Julie’s bush, And that image was more than enough to stimulate masturbation later in the day. Why am I telling you this? BECAUSE I’M NOT GAY.



When I was in junior high, I worked at a private golf club and my primary responsibility was picking up the loose golf balls on the driving range. There were many older women at the country club who I had crushes on, but there was this one woman in particular who just did it for me. She was a younger woman who had recently joined the country club with her douche bag husband. I don’t remember her name but I do remember that she had dark brown hair and enormous boobs that were constantly trying to break through the tight polo shirts she used to wear.

So this one day when I was out picking up the loose golf balls on the driving range, I went to go pick up the golf balls that got lost in the woods because I was the hardest working kid there and nobody else had the dedication that I did. Anyway, while I was in the woods, I noticed that the big breasted woman who I had a crush on was at the tee, working on her drive. She had no idea that I was in the woods watching her. She couldn’t see me at all. And because of that, I did the only natural thing I could do -- I rubbed one out to her. 

That’s true. I really spanked my monkey in the middle of the woods as a woman practiced her back swing. And why? BECAUSE I’M NOT GAY.



In my early years in Hollywood, when I was extremely broke, I had a female friend who let me use her laptop to write on when I was between computers. My female friend, who we’ll call Jane, was dating a guy on the East Coast at the time and she bought a web cam so she could take topless pictures of herself to e-mail her boyfriend.

Now the only reason I jerked off to those topless pictures of Jane was because she told me about them. I swear to god, if she didn’t say anything I wouldn’t have gone through every file on her desktop until I found them -- but because she told me of their existence, I was left with no other choice but to find them and pleasure myself.

But, why, you might ask, am I threatening to ruin a friendship by admitting to a secret that I don’t have to? BECAUSE I’M NOT GAY.

The fact is, anyone who might think I’m gay, thinks that way because I’m definitely not normal. The fact is I’m a freak. I’m a big, fat, insecure, angry, highly-functioning-autistic, hairy freak. And that’s why I moved to Hollywood, because not only are freaks welcomed here, but they’re often rewarded -- which by the way, also explains the large gay population, who also fit into the freak category. And no offense to the gay community by calling them freaks, but I don’t make up the views of society, I just understand how they work.

But more importantly, if you’re reading this, Jane, I really want to apologize about the whole web cam thing again. But FYI -- Nice pics!! Those are some really impressive boobs!!!