Stop me if you've heard this one...

I went to a gathering at my in-laws this weekend, & I'm not too partial to the majority of them in the first place; I was just there to keep an eye on my son (yeah, I'm over protective but so the fuck what? Too bad more Black fathers aren't). Anyhow, as soon as we get there, it was drama. You know Black folks can't get together for 15 minutes without some neck-rolling & finger-pointing. *cue the obligatory racist joke* Somebody either drank the last of the Kool-Aid or bad mouthed Tyler Perry.

The incident itself was completely irrelevant, but one aspect of it kind of made me chuckle, in a bad way. My brother-in-law's baby momma got into an argument with some bird that lived in the apartment complex. Luckily for me, my (sort of) sis-in-law had her gay lover with her. As the confrontation ensued, the gay lover jumped in, & was told by the bird, "Oh, you wanna act like a nigga, I got somebody for you!". [tony's note: bird = wild haired, bra-less baby factory] Normally I ignore those types of things, especially when it doesn't involve any of my real family members, but I couldn't help but laugh at that. It amused me well into the evening, & for a few minutes this morning when I woke up.

See, I have no real problem with gay peoples. In fact, without sounding like a bigot, they are some of the coolest folks I've come across during my travels (recovering alcoholics can be a delight as well). & God knows I prefer lesbian porn over watching some hairy-assed dude shafting poor, defenseless white girls. But, as with most things in life, there's always a boundary. Being a lesbian is one thing; attempting to actually be taken seriously as an equal counterpart to Men is another ballpark (no pun intended).

I've noticed that, at least in Los Angeles, the butch dyke has taken on a new role. What was once the female companion to a woman who's chosen to explore her sexual options has now become a pants sagging, wave-capped corn rows wearing, sports bra to hide the chi-chi's ass anti-feminist, who's wholeheartedly adamant on edging out men in their quest for empowerment. Let us not forget what James Brown said. In case you did, this is a man's world. That doesn't mean that we don't need women, but we don't if said female is insistent on awkwardly standing in front of a urinal to create the appearance of peeing while standing.

It's to the point where two girls occupying the same personal space nowadays get automatically labeled lesbians. In my younger days, it was a case of figuring out which one I'd rather have casual sex with & mostly likely it would be both. Now, it's like trying to sneak peeks at some fresh-outta-prison cat's girlfriend. When Women's Liberation spoke to equal rights, I assume they didn't mean getting knocked the fuck out like a man, but if it walks like a duck, by all means, quack quack.

Perhaps the most mystifying facet of all this is that gay women always seem to have upwards of three children in tow. So first, I'm sure they soured their kids' heads with talks of how useless their fathers are, & next, to add insult to injury, they open-mouth kiss their women friend(s) in public as if it's a normal occurrence. On top of the fact that mommy's woman friend dresses like daddy, but has a period like mommy. Only in America people. If this were the Middle East, heads we be on sticks next to curb side mailboxes. Again, I don't judge, because that God's responsibility & it would behoove me NOT to step on Jehovah's sandals, but this can't be the way it was supposed to be. I doubt my grandmother had any bisexual experiences. Yet, I have a cousin who has/does, & thats okay, too. When I met her girlfriend, I could've sworn she looked at my mustache & got mad at it. As if she doesn't get enough hair on her lips already.

It's not necessary to prove how manly one is, unless of course, they're not. It's overkill, ladies. If you want to munch carpet, feel free to do so until it gets caught in your respective throats. But, don't piss on my Air Force 1's & tell me it's drizzling. Whatever your parents did or didn't do to you can be discussed on therapy couches that span as far as the eye can see. & with this looming health care initiative, I'm sure said help isn't far off. But I beg of you, don't impose your hostilities on us real men, who father your children, kill your spiders & move your furniture. Even if we are just your cousins & uncles.

Really though, I'm just saying. Don't shoot the douche nozzle, I'm only delivering the message. Speaking of douche nozzles, I wonder how a dyke butch (see how I did that there?) keeps the pipes clean? Never mind, no I don't...