Skip to content

The Fisher of Stories


I would just like to forewarn visitors today that the post you’re about to read contains a good bit of graphic material. Not language, but stuff about the loving. Also, there is a tastefully edited picture of me without a shirt on. Ladies, control yourselves, and proceed at your own risk. 

You’ve been warned.

It was a normal Monday night, really.

We had breakfast for dinner, watched Home Alone, put the kids to bed, I had a bath, then we watched Sweet Home Alabama.

Okay, so that doesn’t happen every Monday night. Normally I yell at the kids, then The Missus yells at the kids, then they gripe about not having dinner, we throw some hot dogs at them, then yell at each other, and I spend a lot of time petting Fabulous.

But for some reason, last night went well.

As The Missus and I crawled into bed, we began the early stages of, for the courtesy of the reader, what shall heretofore be called “activities.”

All of the sudden, The Missus got a text.

She looked at her phone, said, “It’s a wrong number,” and set the phone down.

As a man, you would think at this point I’d want to pick up where we left off. Resume the activities, if you will.

“Hand me your phone.”

Thus began a series of text messages.

From the get go, Donnel seemed only interested in one thing. He sent me a picture, so I of course asked him if he wanted one back, and I also asked him if he’d like me to be topless as well.

It seemed as though I had captured the young man’s heart. I would like to say I’m ashamed of the fact that my ample bosom could inspire such lust in the heart of a young black man, but we all know I’m not.
The conversation, which I’m sure you’re keen to get back to, continued.
The boy plays football for Ohio State, or so he claims. A quick search of the Internet not only proved he wasn’t from Atlanta, he also didn’t play football for Ohio State and he was listed as “In a relationship” on the Facebook.
So I called him on it. And I also revealed to him a shocking secret.

I felt like Maury Frickin Povich.

I then sent him a follow up picture for proof.

In the interest of you maintaining your current stomach contents, I’ve done a bit of editing.

Donell never replied, which was fine, because I had “activities” to attend to. By then, The Missus and I were laughing so hard it was almost impossible, but it wasn’t. I will illustrate the union of our love with a tasteful picture.

I can literally use Kevin Hart to illustrate anything.

Upon completion of said activities, The Missus was fiddling around with her nightstand drawer.
I heard a loud crash, a half-curse, and then…
Something, I won’t say what, started going off.
It was seriously the best night I’d had in a long time.
Thanks Donell.
So it’s just gay people getting bullied now, eh?
That’s all I’ve heard about since Tyler Clementi killed himself a while back.
“The gays are being bullied, we have to stop this!”
“It’s not fair, it’s not right! We’re being targeted!”
“I think that because I’m gay, I shouldn’t get bullied at all!”
Folks, I’m here to tell you, I’m a straight male, 28 years old, 320 pounds, I’m a BIG guy, and I STILL get bullied to this day. Still. And I’m pretty sure I can beat up the people bullying me. Would I do that? No. Why? Because bullying is an absolute CERTAIN part of life, and it’s going to happen to everyone. There is always someone out there who feels they have to pick on you because they’re bigger, they’re stronger, they’re wealthier, or they are just plain jealous of you.
I was called gay from the time I started school until the time I graduated. That’s what we did. We called people gay. “You’re gay!” “Your mom is gay!” It was an insult. Was I gay? No. Is that different than a gay kid being called gay? Even I have to admit that it probably feels different for the person being “insulted.” I used quotations there because I’m honestly coming under a little bit of conviction about the whole calling stuff gay thing. Maybe I shouldn’t do it as much. Maybe it’s insulting to have your orientation used as an insult. I kind of understand that now. Does that mean I’m going to stop cold turkey? Naw, that’s gay. Also it’s hard.
When did bullying become the new thing? Did someone just realize when a gay guy threw himself off a bridge that this was a problem? The last time I heard this big of an outcry over bullying was when the video game “Bully” came out. As I recall, the makers of the game wound up toning the game way down when confronted with the massive fallout from the public. It’s like we as a nation need something else to grab on to. We got the oil spill pretty much taken care of, Obama is renaming troops overseas so it doesn’t sound as much like a war, and we are slowly but surely climbing out a recession. We need a scandal. Bullying fits the bill right now. Most of these people that are involved in the “anti-gay bullying” campaign couldn’t care less if it were gay people or tree frogs getting bullied. They just want something else to gripe about.
Also, gay people? Listen. I’ve developed an incredible amount of tolerance over the last year. If you want to be gay, be gay and be good at it. I have no problems with that. I’m not going to persecute you, I’m not going to “fuel the hate,” and I’m not going to bully you. I’m fat. America hates fat people. We are made fun of constantly, we are picked on, and we are maligned in the media all the time. You know what? I’ve never thought about committing suicide because of that. I’ve never complained about being bullied. I continue living, knowing that every time someone makes a joke about fat people, they are just wishing they could have just one piece of guilt free cheesecake. Have you ever considered that people bully gays just because they wish they could be comfortable enough with their own sexuality to admit they’d like to try something gay?
I do however, mix all this tolerance in with a belief in Christianity, and the belief that God hates homosexuality. Does He hate homosexuals? NO. No He does not. The God I worship loves everyone. I feel the same way. That’s all I’m going to say about that, because I don’t want people to think I’m coming at this from a “religious” standpoint.
In closing, if you are gay and you feel like you are being bullied, don’t kill yourself. If your roommate streams live video of you having gay sex on the internet and everyone you know sees it, don’t kill yourself. Because you know what? You are making the choice to end your life. You are causing someone else to have to feel the blame of a decision you made. You are possibly putting someone in jail for a very long time. And you are doing it because you decided that you couldn’t live in a world that thought a little differently of you because you didn’t “fit in” or you weren’t “normal.” Is there a normal person? Is there a guy named Steve Johnson that lives at 1234 South Maple Avenue in Plainstown, Nebraska that has 2.5 kids, a cat, a dog, a wife that looks okay but isn’t special, with both parents still alive and married and they all go to church on Sunday afternoon then go to Applebee’s and eat steak at exactly 12:15 then all go home and take a nap so they are rested to go to work at the Normal and Not Too Hard Work Plant at 8 AM on the nose Monday through Friday so they can have Saturday off to mow the grass and live life like it’s a 1950 TV sitcom? Is there? Because I want to meet that person, and I want to bully him. Because that guy’s a douche.
But gay people…you’re alright. No hate over here. Just live your lives, and stop worrying about being bullied. I’m pretty sure that if anyone in the nation has any right to say that they’ve been bullied, it’s black people. While we’re at it, why don’t we just all shut up about people being bullied. It’s going to happen. We as a nation bully other nations. If you can look me in the eye right now and tell me we don’t bully Canada, I will call you a liar.
Nothing in this world should be enough to make you kill yourself. No one should have that power over you. Even if you have a family that hates you, friends that make fun of you, a world that doesn’t understand why you do the things you do, or if you simply don’t understand yourself, please remember one thing before you decide to end it all.
You’ve got me, and you’ve got Jesus. Even if you don’t believe in Jesus, you’ve got me.
But we can’t date, because I love the ladies.