Friday, July 13, 2007

The Bares and the Bees

Report from Gay Pride Day in Denver:

So I get a call, some weeks ago, from my friends Aimee and Earl. Although it's hard to hear, what with all the screaming in the background, I eventually come to understand that they--dutiful correspondents to The Year of Magical Painting--are reporting in from Gay Pride Day in Denver.

Which is odd because I didn't think either of them even knew anybody who was gay.

Anyway, Earl mentions something about wanting to hang out with a group of people called The Bares. Because he was slurring his words quite a bit, I don't fully understand the term. I assume he is talking about men with absolutely no body hair. Which he finds fascinating. Neat, even (honk!).

Makes a guy want to wax philosophic (honk!).

I hope his wife doesn't read this blog, although maybe I've got it all wrong. There was a lot of background noise. Maybe they said Penn State.

As for me?

Don't get me wrong--I'm a guy who's as in touch with his inner woman as anyone who ever strolled barechested down 7th Avenue. That said, I can nonetheless assure you that I'm as straight as a ruler. An arrow. A beam of light. The shortest distance between two points. I'm straighter than George W. Bush.

Which, upon reflection, isn't saying much. I mean, you know that guy's overcompensating for something.

Anyway, do you know how I can tell?
I can tell I'm straight because whenever I watch a carefully tivoed episode of "So You Think You Can Dance" I fast forward through the dance sequences but linger in super-slo-mo on all the Cat Deeley footage. She, of course, would be the host of the show.

I usually watch each of her segments about three times, sometimes taking notes, then I go back and watch at regular speed a couple more times so I can listen to her speak. She's British, so I mean... c'mon.

Ms. Deeley also seems like someone who can open her mouth really wide. I mean, really wide. Cantelope wide. Which, I must tell you, I find compelliing on a number of levels.

The problem with super-slo-mo, as anyone will tell you, is that there's no audio. You'd think that in this day and age they could reprocess the audio, modify the pitch, and have it come out sounding normal... just really slow.

Do you watch "So You Think You Can Dance?" It's the most disfunctional television show currently on the air. Which, I must tell you, I find compelling on a number of levels.

But hey, enough about me. How do you like my suit, Butchie?


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