Wednesday, June 08, 2016
Dolly's denial
As I suspected, the rumour that Dolly Parton is a lesbian was too good to be true. An American tourist on safari told me she had frequent slumber parties with a woman called Judy Ogle, who was supposedly her lesbian lover. He also asserted that the husband she claims to have has never been seen in public. It was Dolly herself who put these insinuations to bed in the best possible way:
“If I was gay, I would have come out of the closet just a-flying!” she declared in a recent interview.
Apparently her husband is just a publicity-shy fellow who shuns the limelight, whereas Judy Ogle is a bosom childhood friend who never intentionally touched Dolly’s bosom. You can’t assume someone is a kitty-muncher just because her name is ‘Judy Ogle’. Many people are burdened with suggestive names that don’t reflect their true nature.
Of course, I wouldn’t blame the Velcro vixens for hoping that Dolly was one of their number. Anyone can see that busty lesbians are in short supply, so Dolly would have given the sisterhood some much-needed chesticular gravity. The flat-chested, short-haired, trouser-wearing stereotype isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and recruiting a well-stacked player for the A-team would have won them new fans.
Another myth that Dolly could have helped to explode is that lesbians are not especially keen on booby action. I don’t believe that anyone who is attracted to women would downplay the jahoobies – certainly, no one attracted to Dolly could do so. Maybe Ellen Degeneres should make a public statement clearing up the misconceptions on this topic.
What Dolly has clearly demonstrated is that you don’t need to be gay to be a supporter of gays. She was quick to apologise when she found out that a female visitor to her ‘Dollywood’ theme park was told to reverse a t-shirt displaying a pro-lesbian slogan. After issuing a statement on ABC news, Dolly announced her support for gay marriage rights:
“Sure, why can’t they get married?” she said. “They should suffer like the rest of us do.”
This is all well and good, but I hope Dolly checked the t-shirt slogan was appropriate for a family venue. “Lesbian and Proud” would be fine, but “Hot Dyke Action at Pussies.com” should be reserved for the bars and clubs.
It seems the queer community are solidly behind Hillary for president, although I’m not entirely sure what she’s done for them. Is there anything she could do after getting elected, besides offering the usual words of support?
If I had Madame President’s ear, I would advise her to invite the surviving members of ‘Village People’ to perform in the White House. It would be great to see them prancing about in their costumes again. It’s a little known fact that ‘YMCA’ is a beloved classic among the gorillas of the Congo, even though we have no idea what YMCA stands for. That’s the great thing about pop music – you can enjoy the songs without having a clue what the words mean.
Labels: Dolly Parton, Hillary Clinton, jahoobies, lesbian, Village People
Friday, August 05, 2011
Dreaming of Obama
A correspondent has sent me a blog post written by a strange young man who dreamt he had been raped by President Obama. If you read the post, you'll discover that the Obama of his dreams drugged his drink, raped him violently and then pinched his cheeks for good measure. What I find odd is that the fellow seems to think his dream is something to be proud of, and his readers, judging by their comments, appear to concur. Anyone would think that he’d been invited to the White House for a game of checkers and a hot dog.
My own view is that dreaming you've been raped by the President of the United States is nothing to boast about. Men have suffered greater calamities in their sleep, and in their waking hours too. I should imagine that most people could easily replicate the dream by gazing at pictures of Obama during the day and inserting a butt plug before turning in for the night. I'm not suggesting anyone should do that, of course. Any US citizen who intentionally generates a nightmare of being buggered by the president is arguably guilty of sedition. I believe there's a legal precedent involving President Ulysses Grant and the owner of the Fancy Britches Saloon in Tennessee.
I dare say this fellow's confession is the tip of the iceberg - millions of men all over the world are probably having similar rape fantasies. If Village People were re-forming today, one of the band members would certainly be an Obama lookalike. When a good-looking black man gets his finger on the nuclear button, men of ambiguous tendencies discover their inner catamite.
Anyway, I mentioned this blog post to an American man staying at the safari guesthouse in the hope of making light conversation during the rainy season. His eyebrows didn't move a millimetre.
“There's a guy in Washington DC who claims Obama raped him in real life,” he said. “He sits under a sign with the words “OBAMA RAPED ME” on it, and below the headline is a story about how Obama drugged his drink and crept into his bed on a dark and stormy night. He says he told Obama's bodyguards what happened, but they didn’t do anything.”
“What a fool!” I exclaimed. “As if it’s the job of Obama's bodyguards to console his rape victims. Alleged rape victims, I should say. He sounds like another bi-curious white boy, fantasizing about being ravished by the black commander-in-chief.”
“Actually, the man was black,” corrected the guest.
“Was he indeed?” I remarked. “The plot thickens.”
Whatever the colour of his complexion, the behaviour of this fellow annoys me. America may be the land of free speech, but you shouldn’t be allowed to accuse the president of rape without substantiating the accusation. Where is the proctologist's report? Where are the cotton swabs?
If you happen to encounter this lamentable guttersnipe on a visit to Washington DC, please pass on the following message:
Gorilla Bananas says “Put up or shut up!”
Labels: Barack Obama, Buggery, Dreams, Village People
