Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Five Reasons Why I Wish Tim Tebow Were Gay

For some reason I started thinking about the episode of Sex in the 90's I mention in this essay and here is what became of that random thought. I swear I'm not gay.




I remember back in the nineties MTV ran a series of specials about sex called, appropriately, Sex in the 90's. It was the usual claptrap produced by MTV News to enlighten and inform youngsters to the perils of disease and the like. They still try and do this today, but I wish they'd stop because I think that people who watch MTV regularly nowadays should be forced to get some sort of painful disease just for keeping that network in business. I mean have you seen A Shot At Love? It is just about the worst show in the world. It was bad enough that Tila Tequila was on the show. Despite her obviously lack of charisma and the fact she looks like Wile E. Coyote after the chunk of cliff rips off and flattens his head, she is a least somewhat well-known. But who the fuck are the Ikki Twins? Am I supposed to know who these whores are? Don't even get me started on The Hills. God, I want to put a boot on their program director's throat and just stomp away like Michael Flatley, but I digress.

Sex in the 90's, for some reason, ran a special focused solely on masturbation. For two thirds of the special, it was just like the history of masturbation in society. Then for some reason, it took a weird Red Shoe Diaries turn. It became the youth of America talking about their celebrity self-pleasure fantasies. They did it in this really creepy voice over way, where they would show clips of the celebrity while people talked about various scenarios they'd think about when they got down. It was, um, odd.

They did the standard five angles I think we all fall into while we take care f business: guy-thinking-about-a-girl, girl-thinking-about-a-guy, girl-thinking-about-a-girl, guy-thinking-about-TLC, and guy-thinking-about-guy. When they got to guy-thinking-about-a-guy, it started off with "I'm not gay and I don't think Henry Rollins is gay, but..." This always seemed weird to me. I always thought, "Henry Rollins is cool, but I only fantasize about doing guy stuff with him, like watching boxing and talking about chicks and riding BMXs and stuff. If you're thinking about Rollins while you whack it, well then, you're probably gay." I never understood that "I'm not gay, but I would nail Henry Rollins," mindset. Sure I've used it as the crux of several jokes (oddly enough, most of them starring noted child murderer Chris Benoit, but only before he was a child murderer.) (Okay also a couple of times after he was a child murderer.), but I never actually meant it. That was until I saw Florida Quarterback Tim Tebow.

I'm not gay and I don't think Tim Tebow is gay, but here are five reasons why I wish we were.

Reason #1: He is a pretty handsome guy.

Again, I'm not gay, and I don't think Tebow's gay, but if I were to be seen on the arm of some dude, I would want it to be some studly beefcake. Not one of these spindly boytoys like Orlando Bloom. I want some meat on those bones. I mean if the picture above doesn't do it for you, take a look at this one:



See he has that muscle that goes from his hip down into his shorts. That's pretty neat.

Reason #2: He seems like a very gentle lover.

Despite all the muscles. I bet he would be very gentle and giving. He spends a lot of time overseas, helping the poor and doing charity work in underprivileged countries. He cares so much for other people. He probably would only worry about my satisfaction were we to hook up. I imagine candles and maybe some wine. He would tell me stories about the Florida Locker Room and all their monkeyshines. I would tell him about my day, and he would listen and actually care about what I was saying. Then he would start with a back rub and then make me a bubble bath. We would share the bath and cuddle. Then I would make him wear like three condoms because, well, he spends a lot of time in underprivileged countries not to mention in the Florida Locker Room. Seriously, you step on a bar of soap in that shower and you probably just got Chlamydia.

Reason #3: He is way into The Bible.

I'm not into The Bible, personally, but this isn't just about me. I want Tebow to be gay to help the whole world. While I'm not into The Bible, it seems like a lot of people are. It also seems that a large portion of Bible loving people also don't like gay people. There are literally a million (I counted) straight athletes who love The Bible. Tebow would just be another athlete cliche. But if Tebow were gay, he could be all, "I love The Bible, and I'm gay so suck it." And since everyone loves Tebow they would all take note. And then maybe other people who like The Bible could be all "Oh, Tebow's gay, so gay people are cool." Then people will live in harmony. Tebow could change the world if he were gay.

Reason # 4: His (alleged) girlfriend could get that breast reduction surgery she so sorely needs.

Here is Tebow's (alleged) girlfriend:



Now what is the first thing you see? It's the pain she is clearly in. Her smile is crooked, her eye is partially hidden by her hair. She is trying way too hard to keep her shoulders straight. She clearly has a look of torment. Like she is in intense pain. Like her back is screaming at her all the time. She even appears to be getting a back rub from Tebow, just to help alleviate the pain (something that may be unknown but Doane's Lower Back Pain Relief is just a little lighter version of Tebow's Massage in pill form. His hands, literally, are a pain killer. If you were to concentrate it, it would be heroin).

Now, take a look at her chest. Her breasts are abnormally large (I bet you didn't even notice until I pointed it out, right?). I would imagine the pain that radiates off her face would go away if somehow, she could just get those things reduced. I mean, you strap two midgets to your chest and see if your back doesn't hurt after a while. She must be in constant pain. However, she must think that since she is dating Tebow, she must have the largest breasts in the world just to satisfy him. Which would be true, if he were straight. If Tebow were gay, she wouldn't have to keep those unsightly and potentially dangerous funbags. She could finally get the relief she needs. And I think it's important for her to have a comfortable life.

Also, I think it may actually be easier for her to get another guy. Because while we all like big boobs, eventually she is going to have to wear one of those supports that guys who work on loading docks have to wear. And speaking as a straight male, I, personally, have never been into the fat guy who unloads lawnmowers at Lowe's.

Reason #5: Sportscasters could finally just admit to being gay too.

We all know that every sportscaster is in the closet. They all dress too well, have too perfect of hair and like sports a little too much (overcompensating obviously). And they all really like Tim Tebow. Like, a lot. Maybe way too much. Here is what Thom Brennaman had to say about Tim in the most recent National Championship game:

“If you’re fortunate enough to spend five minutes or 20 minutes around Tim Tebow, your life is better for it.”

Even after Tebow earned a 15-yard unsportsmanlike conduct penalty for taunting Oklahoma’s defense, Brennaman incredulously, almost defensively stated:

“That might be the first thing he’s ever done wrong.”

He is in love with Tebow too. You can just tell. It would be nice if their love would be a little less unrequited. I mean, even if Tebow didn't reciprocate (because obviously he would be in a loving, committed relationship with me), maybe they would be able to find the love of their lives by finally admitting what they are. And that's Super Gay. All the time they talk about how great Tim Tebow is, and clearly that makes them gay. Not like me, because I am not gay and Tebow isn't gay. But sportscasters? Gay.

Hard Feelings

I got the idea for this little essay because Bonnie Raitt's 'Something To Talk About' randomly popped into my head at like two in the morning last night. It is a response as to why maybe we shouldn't give them something to talk about. Or at least that what its intent is. I reality, this is me still being pissed at my ex-girlfriend from ten years ago with some bits of just random fiction interspersed. Also, I don't think the two people in the song actually had sex. I think that's the whole point of the song. Bonnie thinks they should start doing it, right? So, anyway, I guess I'm not sure what this is exactly.

You want to know why I don't want to give them something to talk about? Well here are a few reasons.

You have poor taste in music. You listen to show tunes and Hank Williams, Jr. and acts from the nineties that I was certain were either broken up or dead. Sure, I like that "Sex and Candy" song as much as anyone, but who knew those guys made so many albums?

You have too many stuffed animals on your bed. It makes me feel like I was about to have sex with a child. That that somehow turns me on even more really freaks me out.

Your gerbil is evil. I don't like the way he looks at me. Like he's going to enter me somehow, use my heart as his exercise wheel, my intestines as that weird tunnel system he loves so much and make a bed out of the cedar chips that is my liver. I assume because of the amount of beer I drink, my liver smells like cedar chips.

Your body temperature is poorly regulated. Just because it is 3 degrees outside doesn't mean it has to be 90 degrees inside. Just put on a fucking sweater and leave the thermostat at 70. And put on some thicker socks, your feet are freezing.

Your bedroom practices are lacking. If I like something that you're doing, you'll know. If I didn't tell you to stop, it doesn't mean I like it. Maybe, I'm just trying to be nice. And unless specifically directed, stay north of the perineum.

Your parents are insane. Calling lunch "dinner" and dinner "supper"? Who does that? Also, there is no "r" in the word "wash", let your mother know, please, before someone poops in her mouth and "warshes" the poops down with their fists.

Your cat is dumb. I saw that fucker fall off the bed once while he was sleeping. What an idiot.

You drive so close to the curb I'm convinced you and your car's alignment have some long standing, personal beef and you are just looking to fuck it up. And when I point out that I am pretty terrified you are going to hit a curb, or possibly that telephone pole or that old lady walking a Schnauzer, don't over correct. Stay either to the left or right of the lane markings, not on top of them. They are not there to track where you're going, like Jeffy in The Family Circus, they are used as a tool of separation. Think of them as a wall, you wouldn't drive on top of a wall, would you? Well, you probably would.

You are bad at social situations. When someone asks if you have seen a good movie lately, do not speak. 'Failure to Launch' wasn't funny and stop telling people it was. It has Terry Bradshaw in it. Terry. Bradshaw. Seriously, stop it.

Your friends are all ugly and stupid. Can you believe Melissa wouldn't have a three-way with us, what a bitch.

In fact, I don't think I even want to be friends with you anymore. I'd like to say I hope you have a nice life, but really I hope you die. Now if you fix all of these things, maybe we can get back together. Oh what's that, you'll found someone you like better? Cool, I hope he likes devil rodents and you playing with his butt.

This Is A Test



I started a blog because I get ideas for articles or essays or stories that just really aren't that good or I just don't have any place to put them. I sometimes lie awake with dumb ideas and have decided to chronicle them. I'm not really sure why either. Really, I just want to get the dumb ideas out of my head so I don't obsess over them and then maybe I can focus on the stuff I think of that doesn't suck, which honestly rarely happens. Mostly I started this blog because I am bored at work. But this post is just to test if I can actually post pictures and stuff so pay no attention to me. Actual content to follow (or I guess is now above).