Would I Be Straight If I Played Sports As A Boy? (comedy)
So I was filling my glitter gun for a trip to the drag show at the gay bar when I started to think, "What caused me to be Gay?"
Well When I was a kid for some strange reason my brother was encouraged to do sports and I was not. Instead I stayed home and did arts and crafts with my mother. My Dad would go and play hockey in the back hard with my Brother and at the same time I would be in the kitchen with Mom learning to bake.
Sure I can cook like a pro, but I wonder if I would not have liked cock so much if only Dad would have played hockey with me? After all I was not a small child and I was strong and had good coordination, so I would have been good at sports I think.
At the age of ten while my Brother was off to military camp with the army cadets I was at home watching the ballet and thinking how wonderful they looked gliding around. It was then I got the feeling for stepping lightly.
When my friends and I got into a bit of beer my one friend had taken from his dads fridge in the work shop, I asked "is there any Cabernet?" It was then I got relegated to the role of victim at school.
But eventually I ran into a few out twinkle toes in high school. We where all good at science and stuck together. This was good as we often got pushed around for sneaking a glance in the change room or something. So for revenge we would plant a smoke bomb in the cars of the jocks that did not like to be looked at.
Things improved when I got onto higher learning but there where still people who did not like the guy with the pink shirt or the unicorn backpack. They met the fate of all those who oppose the agenda of course. We painted their cars bright purple in the middle of the night and put the names and phone numbers in all the men's rooms frequented by the aggressive bears. Eventually they learned.
And all this because I was not allowed to play sports as a child. I could be out some place in my pickup right now mud bogging instead of finishing up the design for my dress I am wearing to the drag show. And don't forget the glitter gun - it will be a great end to the show.
I do have to wonder though, if my Dad had not kicked off so early in life - would he be here having a bear and trying to act straight as hell and watching me - or would he be at home watching John Wane movies and shaking his head?
I guess I will never know...
Well When I was a kid for some strange reason my brother was encouraged to do sports and I was not. Instead I stayed home and did arts and crafts with my mother. My Dad would go and play hockey in the back hard with my Brother and at the same time I would be in the kitchen with Mom learning to bake.
Sure I can cook like a pro, but I wonder if I would not have liked cock so much if only Dad would have played hockey with me? After all I was not a small child and I was strong and had good coordination, so I would have been good at sports I think.
At the age of ten while my Brother was off to military camp with the army cadets I was at home watching the ballet and thinking how wonderful they looked gliding around. It was then I got the feeling for stepping lightly.
When my friends and I got into a bit of beer my one friend had taken from his dads fridge in the work shop, I asked "is there any Cabernet?" It was then I got relegated to the role of victim at school.
But eventually I ran into a few out twinkle toes in high school. We where all good at science and stuck together. This was good as we often got pushed around for sneaking a glance in the change room or something. So for revenge we would plant a smoke bomb in the cars of the jocks that did not like to be looked at.
Things improved when I got onto higher learning but there where still people who did not like the guy with the pink shirt or the unicorn backpack. They met the fate of all those who oppose the agenda of course. We painted their cars bright purple in the middle of the night and put the names and phone numbers in all the men's rooms frequented by the aggressive bears. Eventually they learned.
And all this because I was not allowed to play sports as a child. I could be out some place in my pickup right now mud bogging instead of finishing up the design for my dress I am wearing to the drag show. And don't forget the glitter gun - it will be a great end to the show.
I do have to wonder though, if my Dad had not kicked off so early in life - would he be here having a bear and trying to act straight as hell and watching me - or would he be at home watching John Wane movies and shaking his head?
I guess I will never know...
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