My Coming Out Post
You go away for a few days through a potentially life changing experience like the recent Derecho that hit Virginia and come back to find out Anderson Cooper is out of the closet. Who knew, or didn't know, I guess? Whatever the case, I did notice the left is making far more of it, than the right.
Okay. Fine. I've had, I don't know, since I was maybe like about 13 years-old, or so, what I've always considered to be sexual impulses that made me feel out of the norm. And, yes, I've acted on them … repeatedly and regularly, whenever I could, anyway. It's not like I got to my age and remained single for no reason. Nudge, … nudge, know what I mean?
That's because my whole life, I've lived and loved to f*ck women. What can I say? I mean, a lot of women!! Not that I'm bragging, mind you. I'm relatively harmless, now, anyway. But in my twenties, I once decorated an entire apartment based upon how every piece of furniture … every single last decoration might get me laid. Those red Japanese silk flowers in the Mauve vase?
I mean, what kind of man buys shit like that, unless he's gay … or he wants to scr*w a lot of women? Because they ate that chit up back in the day, lemme tell ya', especially with the right music via an awesome sound system on the headboard? Maybe playing something by Phil Collins, you know? Just the right combination of masculinity, with a touch of refinement, or something?
I don't know. The Japanese silk flowers were what I thought passed for tasteful, then, anyway. What the hell do I know from decorating? Worked for me! I mean, I've always been to heterosexual what white is to rice, if you know what I mean. Yet, I have still always had these "not normal" feelings.
You know when I was always made to feel the worst, inadequate, the most different, not good enough, or "not okay," somehow?
Pardon the expression, but when the guys got together to go to what they always called "t*tty bars." Weird, huh? It just bothered me. That's when I knew I was different.
I just never got it. Those kind of places just never did and still don't "do" anything for me.
Now, you give me a skinny broad with perky t*ts – or flat-chested, ohhh. Hell, I'll bang the bejesus out of her all night long, if I can. Know what I mean? I love small-breasted women!!! And I'm tired of living a lie because I'm supposed to be a man. T*ts are not everything, guys!!
If people want to judge me, talk about me behind my back … there goes the guy who doesn't like big t*ts. Fine. Go for it. I don't care anymore.
I'm out. I like myself. The fact is, I like small breasts, always have, always will, and I couldn’t be any more happy, comfortable with myself, and proud.
I just never thought anyone really cared all that much, I guess.