30 May 2014

On Protected Classes, and the Ghey Menace

Here it is on a bumper sticker: I can see your skin color, I can even see your borned sex/gender/whatever it's called now (Lived for decades in a neighborhood with a higher concentration of drag queens, trannies, and so on than you can imagine. I ran security for the building housing the Houston Gay Lesbian Transsexual And So On Coalition).

What I can't see is what is inside your head. I can't tell if you're “bi-curious”. And I can't be responsible for what happens in your semi-furnished brainette (thank you so much, Ambrose Bierce).

Sorry if I hurt your feelings. I mean that sincerely As an old fashioned son of a bitch, I never wish to offend unintentionally.

The difficulty as I see it is that anyone, absent history, actions, or union card, can declare oneself a member of a “possibly non-cisnormal” (read as bi-curious to us of the old school).

Presto! Protected class!

Wazza matter? You shy or something? Deal. I had a total of girls 3 dated in high school, and only one turned into girlfriend. Talk about SHY! Look it up on the dictionary and you'll see my photograph..

Lemme hep ya: if you're in a closet, your folks will still love you. Even Republicans do (Ronald Reagan had a gay son, and Rommey has a gay daughter).

Just don't think it makes you special.

Now come over here and give me a hug.

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