Breeder's Digest

Really, Dear Breeder? Was it that hilarious? Why are you still laughing? Seriously, get a hold of yourself. You’re embarrassing me. I was just making a simple observation about coping with loss, and yet you’re reacting as if you’d just watched Spaceballs for the fourth consecutive time while on acid. Perhaps I should let you in on a little secret. I think you’re ready.

Gay men are funny without even trying.

“Who are you calling fag? I’m just over here trying to listen to some Lady Gaga!”

I’m sorry if your days are filled with infant care and unbearable mothers-in-law and endless trips to buy-in-bulk warehouse shopper’s clubs. Still, I have a hard time believing your life is so miserable that you can’t stop yourself from laughing at everything I say, from the moment I walk in the door and tell you my horrible news.

Some day, you’ll come to terms with the notion that gay men get together in private circles and tell outrageous, transcendent jokes to one another at the speed of light. Your poor little brain, raised entirely on old episodes of Reba, couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend the level of wit we simply take for granted. When you find something I say amusing, please believe me: I am being deadly serious.

“She thinks his name was Emma…”

Although I’ll admit, many of the things I say are indeed comic gold, not every word out of my mouth is. My impassioned plea for equality in the eyes of the state, for example, was not a joke. I wasn’t “just joshing you” when I spoke about the historical persecution of homosexuals. And I would have worn something completely different, had I known my brief dissertation on the lack of hospital visitation rights for partnered couples would result in your having done a classic, vaudeville-era spit-take all down the front of my new blouse.

I like to believe I live my life with a quiet dignity, a rich gravitas that serves to lend an air of mystery and elegance to my very presence. But when you cackle like a horse’s hind end every time I try to tell you about the horrific personal tragedy that has recently shaken me to the core, it becomes difficult to maintain the thoughtfully-crafted illusion of respectability I’ve so carefully cultivated all these years.

Next time we plan to meet up, please do us both a favor: watch a Jeff Foxworthy or two in advance and get it all out of your system. If you were paying attention, you’d realize I haven’t even gotten to the punchline yet.

Tags: Furries, Gay Gravitas, Gay Jokes, Jeff Foxworthy is dumb, Lady Gaga, Reba McEntire, Snagglepuss, Why are you faced with a gay and all you can do is laugh?

This entry was posted on April 7, 2009 at 12:00 am and is filed under Emotions, Gay, Social Studies. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.