I just don’t see how you could be so sure.
I want a big hairy guy to fuck me up the ass
and then I want to watch television with him
afterward and play footsies while our balls
You’re not gay. You just need a library card.
The c-a-t-s-u-p spelling of ketchup makes
me think of cats. Isn’t that weird?
How could you be gay? You grew up
wearing speedboat pajamas! I wanted you to
be a Marine!
And there aren’t any gay Marines? Come on,
Mrs. Leviticus’ first husband was a Navy
SEAL who got slaughtered for his pelt. She
says that she wasn’t surprised, that his pelt
was why she married him. That and the fact
that he could play “Pop Goes the Weasel” on
a row of little horns using just his mouth.
OK, if you plan on being welcome in this
house and to keep drinking my root beer
and eating my ketchup and being gay at the
same time, I need you to do something for
It’ll be for the good of the family.
Date Judy the Mustache.
Judy. The Mustache. She’s the shemale with
the circus that comes through every summer.
For five bucks you get to watch her through
a peephole while she makes an apple pie
from scratch and then, after she sets it into
the oven to bake, she holds nails in her
mouth and builds a birdhouse. The whole
time she’s wearing nothing but a garter belt
and a hard hat.
Mom, will you please pass me the ketchup?
Mee-owww! Cats-up! Get it?
She’s in the trailer way in the back behind all
the tents, right next to the Unidentical
Identical Twins. Damnedest things you ever
saw, those twins. They look nothing alike!
I’m not dating Judy the Mustache!
But she’s got a penis! True, it’s a little
misshapen and definitely on the maroon
side, but what do you expect with all the
goddamn pies and birdhouses she has to
make? She’s working 12 hours a day, six
days a week! Jesus frigging Christ, we
should all work half as hard as she does!