Thursday, March 17, 2011

Gay Genes or Gay Jeans? Science decides.

<-----Cartoon Quote, "Your Blood Pressure reads 120/80. Yup, you're definitely a Lesbian."

Written by my bigot cousin Stereo 

Wow, boy am I relieved. I just got back from my yearly medical check-up and it turns out...I'm not gay! I was kind of nervous at first because I had been watching a lot of Ellen DeGeneres and reading a lot of articles in Liberal magazines that said they are locating a gene for Homosexuality.

I initially thought well that's no great discovery, I've spotted those jeans with my naked eye. They are called Ed Hardy's and their bedazzled butt pockets glitter so vibrantly they trigger epileptic seizures in even the most neurologically sound observers. You don't need a microscope to spot that Mr. Scientist man!

However, I was disappointed to find the articles I read did not mention anything fabulous, fashionable or gay like I had expected. Instead
they discussed how probably Asian scientists had located DNA strands that could determine a person's sexual orientation. I imagined the gay DNA coding was written in gold-embossed calligraphy and the genetic message was a Madonna lyric, where as the Straight coding was written in something boring like Helvetica. Lesbian coding was probably in a Flannel pattern and best read aloud to the accompaniment of an acoustic guitar at a Bakersfield bonfire.

I was shocked to discover other scientists had mentioned that homosexual traits can be spotted very early on in a child's life. The article omitted any pictures of homosexual fetuses in the womb as they would be disturbing to some readers. These included Sonograms depicting fetuses who had boldly taken the liberty of wallpapering their mother's womb and outfitting it with a garden patio blooming with Begonias. Also omitted was footage of a baby boy being born already wearing a feather boa and heels, carrying a boom box blasting Cher and making his earthly entrance in a neon fog of glitter dust.

Inquisitive to my genetic sexual orientation, I asked my mother if I had any gay tendencies as a child. She said I went through a phase where I wore baggy pants and wife beaters but that could be equated to the fact that I hung out with a lot of Mexicans.

I was nervous when the Doctor took my blood pressure as I had been eating a lot of seafood and I didn't want the Doc to confuse my clam blood levels with clam-diving. Also, the doctor was a Woman which made me nervous because I kept staring at her breasts which probably seemed very lesbian. I couldn't help it, she had a ketchup stain on her smock in the exact shape of Newt Gingrich's profile. Is that a gay thing to say? Do straight-women make comments about Newt Gingrich?

Oh no, I think I may be developing Hypochondria-Homosexualia (n.), that's the clinical name for the irrational fear that you may be contracting homosexuality.

I passed the eye exam with flying colors. It consisted of me looking at a far away placed poster of a naked Megan Fox, with one hand over my eye, to which I murmured, "Eww, this makes me uncomfortable." Apparently that means I have 20/20 straight vision. If I had yelled, "Yowza, yummy yummy ta-tas" I would have tested fully gay and if I said, "Eh, I would be more turned on if it was Anne Heche" I would have tested as bisexual.

So anyways, I tested as 87% Heterosexual, which made me feel unsatisfied because that is a B and I started weeping and saying, "Nobody cares about me!" which boosted my straight-girl score to a 93! Wooh-hoo! Now I can watch Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman in Black Swan guilt free!

P.S. I can't wait for gay hospitals, where the stethoscopes are bedazzled and the doctors all perform melodramatic monologues they ripped off from Grey's Anatomy.

God bless science and GOD BLESS GAYS!!

Monday, March 14, 2011

Helena Bone-Ham Carter's Dream Outfit...


<-------the alleyway="" behind="" burton="" by="" denny="" designed="" dream="" for="" i="" inspired="" ms.="" outfit="" riverside="" s...="" span="" the="">

Thank London for Helena Bonham Carter. She is soooo the Hollywood version of the Bird Lady from Mary Poppins...minus the aggravating fact that Mary Poppins is already a Hollywood film.


 Crap, well for the sake of metaphor, Imagine Mary Poppins as a America's Most Wanted segment that is then re-enacted with Hollywood actors. In that case, Helena Bonham Carter would most definitely play the Bird Lady from Mary Poppins.

Here is Hollywood's rational for casting her as The Bird Lady: Helena is a bit less homeless looking then the actual Bird Lady and Hollywood executives know if there is one thing us Americans can't stand it is forced eye contact with another Homeless person.


God, help me, I am so sick of trying to make beautiful, karmic, soul sharing eye contact with a homeless person, only to have them crow out, "Spare some change?" Can't they see they are ruining our would be transcendental human connection with their desperation?!

 Trashcan Tom, we could have been equals! We could have played Frisbee in the park and gone Dutch on lunch at the Cheesecake Factory but nooooo someone had to make me feel superior by begging for food and shelter. 

Aye,ye,ye were is the spirit of selfless camaraderie in this country?

That is why I prefer my Homeless Bag People, Hollywoodified. Represented equally by The Olson Twins and... Helena Bonham Carter.

Ahhh, Helena, she did all the right things. She was a beautiful woman who married a gawky nerd with a lot of power and money who doesn't care if she wears trash bags as bonnets, Styrofoam cups as underwear or uses rotting banana peels as makeshift condoms.

I've personally spotted Helena wearing Dolphin flippers as household slippers and discarded toilet seat covers as bathing caps. She totally pulls it off. Mostly because she is the perfect size of plump. 


It's an age old truth that plump women can get away with almost anything because most people are too distracted trying to imagine their faces twenty pounds lighter. I have seen plump girls steal babies right off of a mom's breasts and smuggle illegal immigrants across the border under the protection of nothing more than a false mustache.

Helena gives us hope of another option. We don't have to watch our carbs or wash our underwear. We can weave whole subway sandwiches into our hair and use our dirty underwear as an eccentric scarf.

Why drop 5,000 dollars on a couture hat, when you can steal a Macaw Parrot from the local zoo and have it perched lopsided on your head shitting white goo drops into your eyes all night? Fashion is risk and nothing says risk like contracting rabbis from the still wailing feral cat you wore around your neck as a shawl.

Helena, homeless or hipster? You are oh so Dumpster Diver Chic!!!