I’m getting tired of alternative lifestyles.
I watched two shows yesterday about alternative lifestyles. For those of you that are unfamiliar with what an alternative lifestyle is, I suggest you hire me to redecorate that rock you reside under. Frankly, I’m getting tired of all this alternative lifestyle stuff being rammed down my throat (poor sexual analogy?)
The first show was Oprah (with 15 remaining shows left – bet you came out from under the rock for that one huh?) and her interview with “Chaz” Bono, daught… SON of Sonny Bono and Cher… just CHER. Apparently her originalness, “Chastity,” was not “happy” with her God-given body and had it surgically altered into a man… well sort of. But I ask, who IS truly happy with their own body? Hell, I want to look like Angelina Jolie, but you don’t see me running to the nearest surgeon to remove any of MY body parts. If I had lips like hers, I’d spend my day kissing myself in every mirror I passed while touching myself very inappropriately and dialing my i-phone for the nearest sitter. Who am I to judge?
The second show was GLEE. Look, I’m ALL for equality in high school, junior high school and even kindergarten, and I’m totally anti-bullying, but come on… just how real life IS this show anyway? As soon as Kurt was announced as Prom “Queen” (should have been DRAMA Queen) and after he burst into tears (sigh, again), then returned to take the stage with the homophobic closeted Prom King Pug, I totally expected a bucket of pig’s blood (ala “Carrie”) to come crashing down on their heads while the entire teen-filled auditorium broke into “Dude Looks Like a Lady” from Aerosmith. Who am I to say what real life is anyway?
I dunno… I just want to live MY life as a lifestyle without all the “alternative” that goes with it. I want to be able to barbeque big thick juicy knockwurst sausages with the best of them in my rainbow colored apron. I want to be able to do body shots off of Romeo’s abs at “Swingin’ Richards” club in Hotlanta and be able to hold my partners hand at a local Phillies game… you know, just normal stuff! Next you’ll be telling me that Presbyterian clergy are all gay!
I’m already stressing about addressing the Christmas cards I send out this year… “Mr. and Mrs., Mr. and Mr., Mrs. and Mr. now Mrs.? I’m confused already.