It’s been quite an interesting period, this one. As we recovered from whatever bliss or mayhem befell us on Valentine’s day, government hit us with news of an anti-pornography law that for the most part we held our breath in thought that it was out to ban the mini-skirt as we knew it.
Well, we still do not know whether the mini-skirt is called by another name in that law – like indecent dressing or exposure – for as your old man, I scaled through the pages and surfed the web reading this law by the letter but found nothing banishing mini-skirts. But I could be wrong.
Playing out almost in same space is this debate on whether ‘to sign or not to sign into law’ that bill on homosexuality. There is clear unity here. The word making the rounds leaves not a bit of doubt that folks here still enjoy their sex among opposites. I have not come to preach which way you should choose; I wouldn’t start, but just to wonder aloud what your reaction would be if:
You were smitten by this hot chick, made your move and realized she prefers your sister to you – sexually. This is not a what if. I know a guy, who was very good friends with a certain lesbian in town.
Their friendship was, yes and expectedly, platonic. But you may say, not quite, as this guy, knowing his friend well and the company she keeps, kept lurking in the shadows to pounce on any of the girls in the harem.
One of them, a very pretty face with a gorgeous body, went weeping to this guy. Her story was as bizarre as they come. Her ‘boyfriend’ was cheating on her and acting with disrespect. Sighting an opportunity, this guy moved quickly to offer a shoulder for her to cry on and after winning her trust and confidence, made his killer move to ‘as if’ redeem her from the scourge of lesbianism.
“How would you feel if a guy hit on you?” she asked him, during these cozy moments when he thought he was about to nail the success button. “I would puke in disgust,” he replied.
“Well, that’s exactly how I am feeling now, you hitting on me,” she said.
The fella puked in rage! Some of these homosexuals or lesbians are for real; they have passion for their ways as much as we, who are as straight as a ruler, do.
Most who passionately argue against homosexuality or in support of it will ask how you would feel if your own child turned out gay. This is the Ace card in emotional blackmail. You begin to imagine your little son, now grown with a beard being smooched by some balding chap almost your age.
I tell you, this is when contemplating murder becomes as normal as craving your favourite meal during a famine. But that’s precisely what has befallen some men in this town, where their sons return home, with the promise of bringing along a suitor and in comes a fellow man.
Indeed, what would you do? Forget this liberalizing around of ‘if they keep it in their bedroom, that’s fine’. I don’t recall seeing anyone making love to their spouse before their in-laws; but knowing that making love between man and woman is a sacred engagement for both recreation and procreation, they nod in approval and encouragement. Just the other day, a chap in the US walked a dog, not in a street but down an aisle.
What next are we left to sexually engage in? Porcupines? There must be a limit to sexual perversion and your alpha male insists, homosexuality is one such perversion.