Before all the megalomania, mass deportations of citizens to Siberia, and bad mustache choices, Stalin was a just a hot otter who wouldn’t look out of place at a gay bar in Petrograd. At 5’4” and with a sexy, withered left hand, Stalin could have had a good career as the steamy young Bolshevik to some rich Sugar Papa.
Mmmm! I do like me a Ngas man from Kanke! Especially one that can move, honey! Before military coup-ing Nigeria, Gowon was a boxer, soccer goalie, and pole vaulter, so you know that man knew his way around a penis! Am I right ladies?
Richard Nixon wasn’t always a slack jowled Republican with dead eyes and a receding hairline . Once upon a time those jowls were tight and sexy, and that hair squiggled across his forehead like a question mark, asking the ladies “who’s ready for orgasmgate?”
We all know that Mahmoud was only elected for his looks, so it’s quite the surprise to find out that back in the day he was even more of a hunk. While much of Mahmoud’s post-college, pre-grad school life remains a sexy mystery, I’m betting that he was cleaning a lot of Persian carpets, if you know what I mean.
Corneliu Zelea Codreanu
While Romania later tried to play down Corneliu’s hotness by printing a postage stamp that showed him with a butt chin, this smexy fascist was quite the teenage dream. After he was deemed too young and luscious to fight in WWI, he famously claimed that the Jews were threatening the purity of young Romanian women. But Corneliu, it was you. Oh honey, it was you.
How to Pronounce 2013
Say this out loud: 1913. Now say this out loud: 2013. For those of you that said “two-thousand thirteen,” please wound yourselves with the closest sharp object. You need to stop this madness and say 2013 the way it should be said: twunny therteen. Mark my words, I am not going to go through this entire century listening to you say two-thousand thirty-three and two-thousand ninety-nine. Don’t be so two-thousand and late on this one dummies!
Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that the story I was telling was less interesting than your friend’s Tweet about cat AIDS. No, no it’s fine. I’ll just sit here in silence while you scroll through Instagram for a few minutes, then start up right where I left off about my mom having cancer. Take your time, and you know what? Take mine too.
We Don’t Need Gender Specific Words for Everything
It seems that whenever men borrow stuff from women these days, it can’t go unnoticed. So what if these tights outline my monster calves, do we have to call them meggings? What’s next? You’re going to compliment my guylashes and tell me when my bro strap is showing? It’s my right as a 21st century man to do whatever I want, and not have to be constantly reminded that yes, I’m a man, and yes, I’m wearing manties.
America Will Never Adopt the Metric System
The international science community is not going to stop me from driving a mile to the store, buying a gallon of ice cream, and weighing 327 pounds. We Americans like the standard system, and we’re good at it too. Everybody knows that it’s 73 teaspoons to a half gallon, and 29 billion inches to a mile. No one, not even every other country on earth, is going to take away my right to measure my driveway using the length of some king’s foot who died, like, a million years ago.
We Really Need to Stop Saying Amazing so Much
Guys, I know, I say it too. Amazing is just such an amazing word for describing things. I mean, it’s pretty amazing that the average person says amazing 428.5 times a day, but maybe it needs to stop. We have to admit that we have an amazing, awesome, crazy problem that even amazeballs can’t fix. We have to do something, maybe something as drastic as opening a thesaurus, to curb what some English teachers are calling “the end of civilization as we know it.”
These no-longer-ladies always knew men were sexy and women’s clothing was fabulous, but something about those real boobs never felt quite right. So after a complicated, 8-year coming out process, they finally emerged as the beehive wig-wearing, lipstick-smeared, man-loving men they were always meant to be! You go “girls”!
I looked down at the crowd of sparkling, disco-singing gay men atop the pink, Judy Garland parade float, and I knew I wasn’t gay enough. I needed something all the body hair glitter in the world couldn’t give me. I needed a lesbian life-partner-love-companion. She and I, our homosexual powers combined, would usher in a new gay age, gayer than ever before! And down the road, as we sea-horse-carried our rainbow love-baby to term, we’d know that nothing could defeat our gaysexual dreams.
Somewhere between picking sea-kale at the co-op and meditating at the pan-African yoga brunch, my heart transcended love. At that deep, life-affirming moment, I knew that my beautiful sexual being and my unending love for every human creature could never be separated. And indeed, never were. Communing with the most ancient of loves and locking eyes with that Unitarian grad student, ficus plant, and the sun, I entered and embraced urlove.
Questioning for Questioning
“I heard Anna’s experimenting with androgyny and hooked up with that bicurious Swiss exchange student last weekend!”
“That’s nothing! I heard Alex, that hottie who Googled “transitioning”, made out with Ian, that gender-confused guy at Shauntal’s party! But then Ian totally came out as gay!
“No way. You can’t just tell a horny Q4Q stud that you’ve figured it out!
“I know! I’d totally be on top of Alex if I were still into questioning guys!”
Love putting your mouth on other people’s mouths but cringe at the thought of putting it on their trouser snake or treasure cove? Have you considered that you may be a neutrosexual? Neutrosexuals are passionate about many intimate acts like macking, necking, spooning, and couples Christmas card design. However, when the pants come off, they will kindly ask you to put them back on. So, if you got turned on by Lord Varys from Game of Thrones or find yourself fantasizing about a Ken Doll-smooth lover, you might just have some personal sexploration to do.