I was on my way back from what must be my 148th trip to Homo Depot/Target/Lowes this month pondering vehicles. My inspiration? Ming Vauze, my sassy silver 2000 Honda Civic, is experiencing her first potentially major mechanical problem just one week before I become virtually unemployed. Of course the problem is like her owner, she has decided to blow air that is exclusively hot during this heat wave that is working it like Omarosa with her last 30 seconds of fame.
Of course this isn't nearly enough to make me quit loving Ming. Rather I simply gleefully continue to refuse to let Ass-U-Vs over in traffic since it is their owners who are causing the global warming anyway, and calculate my gas savings while the wind whips through my hair (though since it is the last hair I have, I might want to protect it better than that).
It's actually turning into a lovely evening, cooling down a bit here in The Ville, and there were a few folks out watering the flora and walking their fauna now that it isn't quite so oppressive. My thoughts turned to the icy vodka & cran-grape I was planning to savor while plopping under the newly installed (by me!) ceiling fan and watching "Project Runway" when I spotted one of those damned Human Rights Campaign I-don't-want-anyone-but-other-homos-to-know-I'm-gay equal sign stickers on the back of a Jeep. Back to pondering vehicles and the people who drive them.
I could tell by the well-groomed facial hair of the driver that the passengers were boys because lesbians rarely groom their hair that well. Let me just tell you that gay boys in Jeeps annoy the bejeezus out of me. They're just trying so damn hard to be sporty frat boys, and failing so miserably.
You know these guys. Bless them, they're so terrified of being identified as gay that they drive their Jeeps, take their style queues from the mannequins from A&F, and tend to hang in male-only company. When I say male-only company, that almost always means non-girly males are excluded. Now I'm sure some of these boys really are as "straight-acting" as their Manhunt profiles claim. Good for them for being themselves (though proclaiming it as though it is a virtue is getting a bit old). But as for most of them, these guys aren't fooling anyone any more than I am. How can I make such a statement about the boys in their Jeeps?
Fix ya brows, girl! Not even Joan Rivers looks that surprised!
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
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5 comments:
This surprises me. I always thought Hondas were so reliable. When I had my wreck in April, I almost replaced my car with an Accord for that reason. I had the one I wanted all picked out and everything: Desert Mist Metallic with a sunroof and iPod cable.
But the shop was able to fix the Dodge so it wasn't necessary.
Hondas are super reliable, especially my Ming Vauze! Mine is a 2000, and this is really the first problem I've ever had with it. Until I can afford a Porsche, I'll be staying with Hondas for sure.
Christopher, my first two boyfriends had black Jeeps and while the second one was hardly what I'd call straight acting (he was a girly hairdresser) he was definitely always well groomed. But here in San Francisco, the sporty gays abound with their frayed camouflage cargo shorts, tank tops in one size too small and their silly "distressed" straw cowboy hats. These are the same 'mos who your buddy Jim described from the English gay campground but can also be spotted moving in packs at any circuit event. The big difference is that in SF, these guys WANT folks to know they are gay...
Here the sporty gays for the most part aren't actually sporty, they just dress that way because they're so afraid of looking too gay. The funny thing is, the actual sporty gays look very little like these nitwits.
2 words...Jesse Metcalf.
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