Everywhere you go in this mad funhouse, thereʼs some dicky dick doing dick-like things for no other reason other than to be a dick, which makes it real hard to find a good man in town whether youʼre looking for a partner, a lover, or a friend. Most of these privileged and entitled dicks have authoritative positions of power in their lives, so why are they all so angry? Why do these asses feel the need to make so much noise? Do they understand how loud they talk, and that their idiocy can be heard from blocks away? Do they really think people want to hear what theyʼre doing every second of the blessed day?
How many piece of shit cars, trucks & crotch-rockets are there in this rabid skunk-ridden town that are mainly owned by impotent dicks who purposefully amplify their disgustingness because theyʼre either too lazy and/or broke to fix their latest hunk of junk? Worse, certain fools choose to blow cash to make their violently loud noise pollution on purpose just to prove to everyone within a square mile how much of a raging limp dick they are.
Why do we all put up with this? Is it because weʼre rightfully wary of what theyʼll do in retaliation? Thereʼs not enough room to put them all in prison, or reform school, or rehab, or anger management therapy, or non-violent retreats; and nobody wants to deal with them sanely through long overpriced legal processes in which their power and prestige will unduly get them out early with a slap on the wrist, if not a weak-assed non-apology. So, hereʼs a solution to stamp out their cocky infestation which wonʼt cost any money, heartache, or pain — free of charge — which will spare us for good from all the dicks lurking around every corner, on every block, at every store and in every house.
Ready? Drum roll, please! All dicks should have lots of hot sex with each other, just like in the roaring 30ʼs down at the docks, and in turn theyʼll be much happier and less mean because we all know this is what they really want to do when theyʼre actively recreating.
Instead of chain-sawing the Golden Heron statue down with their gang of dicks, the jock businessmen can go gang-bang in the beds of their beloved pickups. Our lakeside fields are the place where local playboys go to blow off steam and get a much needed break from their wives in the so-called ʻno-divorceʼ leagues, so rather than bust each other up with jerky challenges and oafish thuggery, they can go home painless and anger-free with tall tales about all the beautiful climaxes they had with their teammates. Each menʼs only texas hold-em game would become a strip poker love-in. Prostate health will be much better off with all the extra blown loads, and no-one gets pregnant such as the babysitter, or the barista at the yoga studio, or the squats trainer at the power gym, etc..
Perhaps all these bonus homoerotic boners will make our resident dicks better at making love, as by most accounts the male casanovas who can satisfy their local lovers are few and far between. Who among us hasnʼt heard firsthand how hard it is for an available woman to find a worthy man around here? How many times have we heard wives complaining about their husbands to their girlfriends? Whatʼs the CoNʼs percentage of marriages with no PDA? And yet, even though thereʼs an overabundance of exceptional female relationship candidates in these woods, many lone stags complain about not being able to find love. It appears as if thereʼs three ladies for every bachelor, but it still feels like weʼre surrounded by a clutch of dicks who love nothing more than to whip out their flaccid power tools, or shove ten pounds of crap into a five-pound bag, or polish a turd.
Back in the day, more than a hundred years ago, a dude could have sex with another dude and go home to his wife and nobody would bat a fake eyelash or call him homosexual. A gent could be married, religious, straight as the rod up his ass and still have rampageous sex with a random male sailor, and no-one would categorize him in any pigeonhole other than the God-loving, WASPy patriot that his mother will always love. How have we regressed this much a century later when a bro canʼt even rub his frat broʼs butt (unless itʼs hazing or football!) without being insulted as gay, even though ʻgayʼ used to be happy and merry? How confused have we become where being happy and sexually active with a stud for kicks devolves into competitively hurting your boy instead of humping him, and vice-versa, in the name of saving your marriage? Homo sex can be safe sex, when done right, just like hetero sex can be when hubby comes home!
#forstmedia #opinion #goldenheron