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Why I think Santa is Gay
I hate to be the one to defy
sacred myths, but I believe Santa is gay. Christmas is a big,
organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time
believing a straight man could possibly pull it all off!
For starters, think about the
planning that goes into an event like Christmas. Even Martha Stewart
is envious. Straight men have day jobs, so they wouldn't have time to
stand at the local shopping malls and ring a bell all day. But if
you're a gay, out-of-work Actor/Dancer/Waiter, it's the perfect gig
until you get your big break.
Also, if he were straight he
would have picked a more masculine animal than the reindeer to get him
around, like horses or oxen, but the reindeer just happens to appeal
to Santa's inherent sense of grace and beauty. And those names:
Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen? Fill in the blanks.
Mrs. Clause has been married to
him for eons and he's never fathered a child with her, she's
over-weight and still content. Can you say "Fag-hag"?
Ever thought about the Rudolph
story? He's gay too! "All of the other reindeer used to laugh and
call him names. They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer
games." As if he wanted to. Isn't Rudolph really a metaphor for
the gay child in a straight society anyway?
Ever ask yourself why fruitcake
is the traditional dessert at Christmas time? Well, now you know. And
stop pretending you don't like it. Deep down inside, you've always
liked fruitcake.
Other reasons why Santa can't
possibly be a straight man:
Look at the size of the bag he
packs for a one night trip!
Red velvet, fur collar, black
engineer boots. Think people!!!
Physically he's a wet dream for
the Girth and Mirth club and the perfect poster model for Bear Poster
Child!
Gay men have long been using
stockings to hide their candy.
Toys, toys, toys.
HoHo / Homo. A little too
similar if you ask me.
That long over-night flight
around the world taps into the flight attendant gene.
And one more thing, did you
ever know a straight man named Nicholas? Oh, straight society has
tried to butch up his image by calling him St. Nick, but we know
better. It's Nicholas, damn it! . . . or Ms. Claus if you're nasty.
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