What began as a dare between two bored hippies suddenly became more than she could handle. Alex’s politics. Mallory’s slutty outfits. Tina Yothers. Still, she thought to herself, if living a lie is what keeps this family together, I guess I’ll just have to roll up my flannel sleeves, trim my nails with a pocketknife, and start that women’s-only storytelling collective I’ve always dreamed of…
2 Comments | 
Gay, Genre, Lesbian, You're out! | Tagged: Family Ties, Lesbian Can-Do Spirits, Lesbian Newcomers, Lesbians Wearing Jumpers, Meredith Baxter, Pink Backgrounds Used in Non-Erotic Photography, Things That Rhyme with Birney, Tina Yothers | 
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Posted by breedersdigest
Although blacking out in a heap on the living room floor has its merits, nothing feels better than crawling into bed for a good night’s sleep at the end of a long, hard day at the office or bathhouse. Unlike you straight people, however, who do everything as efficiently and ruthlessly as possible (and frequently, while wearing sweatpants), gay men have turned the basic physiological act of sleeping into an elaborate and baroque process, complete with all the bells, whistles, and high-pitched screeching noises you’ve come to know and expect from us.
In an attempt to demystify the process for once and for all, scientists at the Breeder’s Digest Institute of Gay Sleep Technology have recently classified the four stages of gay sleep:
1. Tossing and Turning
During this initial stage of sleep, the gay man settles into his nocturnal environment, languishing in alternating currents of comfort and misery. This stage is accompanied by a series of world-weary groans, dainty coughing fits, and deep sighing. As he reflects on the events of his day, the gay is likely to make his greatest verbal triumphs, crafting all the perfectly-timed, witty retorts he should have said in the moment. By the end of this stage, he has determined to compose, first thing in the morning, a restrained yet incisive letter to a father figure, ex-lover, or Ann Landers. But don’t worry, Dear Breeder: most gays can barely hold a pen, much less remember bedtime promises.
“I played Betty White in my own autobiographical mini-series!”
2. Astral Journeys
Having finally achieved a state of natural unconsciousness, the gay man’s soul breaks free from its earthly shackles and hovers near the ceiling of his bedroom or men’s shelter. From this vantage point, the gay man is truly able to admire—from within his soul—the beauty and rapture of his very existence. The gay soul whispers things like, “You really came out of your shell today, kiddo,” “You’ve got the chiseled physique of a male reality show contestant,” and, “Shh-shh, sister-soul star-child,” to its physical counterpart.
Stage 2.5: The Choreographed Ghost Ballet.
3. R.E.M. Sleep
During this most restful period of gay slumber, the sleeper is met by the ghost of still-alive singer, Michael Stipe who, having crawled in through an open window, forces the gay to account for all the music he listened to in college. “Really?” Michael Stipe has often asked, “Was Lisa Loeb ever all that good?” “No,” I explain again and again. “It was the mid-to-late 90’s! I was so confused!” Michael Stipe shakes his head in disgust, opens his mouth as if to say something, then sits on the edge of my bed and weeps. Only after coaxing him outside with the promise of soy protein and bus fare, does he actually leave. At least, I think that was Michael Stipe. . .
He sure did suck dick like Michael Stipe. . .
4. Dream State
At last, the gay has unlocked the door to his own subconscious, and is flooded with a steady stream of images, sounds, and scents—all of which hold important clues to the inner workings of the gay mind. Common themes for gay dreams include: public nudity/private dressing rooms; making love to an early-career Ted Danson; writing genre fiction; ladies’ fashion for men; improbably oversized genitalia; The Cosby Show, seasons 1-3; Classical themes; mastery of the sports metaphor; animal husbandry; dystopian societies in world literature; riding a unicorn; riding Lady Gaga through a field of unicorns; full equality in the eyes of our families, and the federal government.
“No, you can’t read my ponyface.”
As you’re sleeping soundly tonight, Dear Breeder, dreaming about real or fantasy football, try to remember the plight of the homosexual sleeper. Next time you’re going on and on about your toddler’s dance recital, don’t take it so personally when I stretch my arms wide, yawn loudly, and stumble from the room in search of the perfect place to nap. I’m not bored, just exhausted. After all, I haven’t slept properly since my own gayness first began keeping me up all night. Wait, what was that you said about your wife’s cousin’s mobile home park?
Zzz. . .
2 Comments | Emotions, Gay, Health & Fitness, Social Studies | Tagged: Ann Landers, Celebrity Blow Jobs, Gay Sleep, Ghost Ballet for Beginners, Lady Gaga Videos Originate in Gay Dreams, Michael Stipe, Ponyface, Public Nudity/Private Dressing Rooms, The Chameleon-like Properties of Betty White, What You Wish You Said | Permalink
Posted by breedersdigest
Straight people love a good charity case. They love to put on their finest buckles, armor, and smug expressions and spend all afternoon feeling sorry for those they deem less fortunate than themselves. Never mind that the Native Americans—like the homosexuals before them—were doing pretty well in the first place, without the help of a bunch of straight, white people zooming around Plymouth Rock in their gas-guzzling buggies and building thatched-roof McMansions as far as the eye can see. “Oh, if I could only help them in some way,” Sally Farthington thinks to herself, “If only my fried chicken were good enough—maybe they’d learn to be more like us…” Thanks but no thanks, Dear Breeder.
Oh please, painter of group nationalistic portraits foregrounded by fuzzy buildings and trees: We know this representation is a bold-faced lie. We know, for instance, that chocolate chip cookies were not served to a seated crowd of Native Americans by a Jane Austen character. We know that it would not become fashionable to wear electric blue stockings with green velvet pants (and to cross your legs in such a manner) until 1885, the year of Boy George’s birth. And we also know that Shirley Temple and her dog Sparky most certainly were not the guests of honor at what you so artlessly hail as “The First Thanksgiving.”
I will, however, compliment you, Painter of a Thousand Inaccurate Details, on your fine rendering of male facial hair. The drag kings who read our blog are going to be ecstatic.
And isn’t that, after all, what Thanksgiving is really about?
1 Comment | Gay, Happy Halidays!, Holidays, Leave It To Breeders, Lesbian, Nation In Crisis, Social Studies | Tagged: Boy George, Drag King Emotion, Exuberant Facial Hair, Jane Austen, Plymouth Rock Soup Kitchen, Shirley Temple, Straight White Pilgrim Idiocy, The True Meaning of Thanksgiving | Permalink
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You try maintaining a steamy love life, putting up with your husband’s insecurities, and spending wisely in the ladies’ department at Lazarus, all the while raising three lesbian children…
2 Comments | Gay, Genre, Heteronormativity, Lesbian, Our Gay Crushes, You're out! | Tagged: 1980s TV, Classic Gay Sitcoms, FLEECE FLANNEL BACKWARDS HAT, Gay Television, Home Improvement, Lazarus Ladies Fashions, Lesbian Child Actors, Lesbians and Tools, Smile If You're a Lesbian! | Permalink
Posted by breedersdigest
Finally, it’s happened. The people of France have begun a love affair with Breeder’s Digest. And we, in turn, have fallen back in love with France—as we remember it from our high school textbooks. Frankly, we’d forgotten how much we have in common with one another. Thanks, France, for reminding us once again that gays and the French share a mutual admiration for the finer things in life…
Midday drinking.
Decorative plant life that may/may not be fake.
Fur collars that may/may not be fake.
Impossibly uncomfortable wrought-iron chairs.
Plexiglass windows.
Giant pant legs, tiny shoes.
Things that spurt.
Street signs that get blurry after lunch.
Dogs who are just as snobby as we are.
Pink triangles.
Bald painters who feel entitled to paint just because they’re gay/French.
Men who take up too much space.
Unrealistic hair colors on women.
Waiters in mom jeans.
Leather bags with handles.
Faceless straight couples who read in silence.
Bonjour Paris, je m’appelle…
3 Comments | Fashion, Gay, Lesbian, Love, Social Studies, Travel | Tagged: Being Snobby about Being Snobby, Gay Paris, High School French, Midday Drinking, Mom Jeans and Waiters Don't Mix!, Parisian Love Affairs, Textbook Gay, The Gay-French Conspiracy, Things That Spurt | Permalink
Posted by breedersdigest
As of today, our blog is officially one year old! To celebrate, we’re throwing the biggest, messiest, bloodiest GAY BASH ever! Unlike the gay bashings you’re used to taking part in, Dear Breeder, we’ll wake up from this one with all our teeth still in our heads, and without the need for a hate crime bill to protect us (eleven years after the fact)!
We hope you and the kids can’t make it, Dear Breeder, but if you can, you’ll get to meet some of our favorite personalities from blogs past!
Melissa Etheridge – We’ve definitely missed you, Missy. You got us into a LOT of trouble this year, which is why we’ll have to ask the members of your Fan Club to wait outside while you party with us, solo-acoustic-style! We really don’t want to have to offend anyone again, but between your erratic fashion choices and the catty lesbians who doggedly support your career, we can’t have our guests getting kicked off your message board all night, for flagrantly violating the terms of use! We never imagined your fan base would be so sensitive to our devil-may-care stereotyping of lesbian pop icons! Also, can you come over early and fix this wobbly table leg?
Bea Arthur – Don’t you hate giving out directions to your house, Bea? Especially since you’ve recently moved (to Heaven). How would you feel if we propped you up against a tree in the front yard, and tied a few streamers to your head? That way everyone will know which house is ours, and you’ll have the chance to reprise your career-defining role as a cold, stiff, shriveled-up harpy. Feminism may not be dead, but you sure are!
Stevie Nicks – We hate to make our guests work during a party, but how could we possibly plan a game of “Pin the Tail on the Donkey” without your help? Your shawls and petticoats and various layers of fabric will make the perfect blindfolds, and your compulsive spinning will leave every player weaving dizzily toward the giant poster of professional donkey face, Christine McVie! We’ll bring the candles, Stevie, if you bring the blow!
“I’m so high, I’m seeing spots!”
girlfriend is a homo – Sisters, please! You know you fellow bloggers are the guests of honor at our imaginary party. We don’t even care how drunk you get or how many of our exquisite gay items you accidentally break as the evening gets progressively messier, and the police are inevitably summoned. Just remember, “I was blogging about Jenny Shimizu” always makes for an airtight alibi!
Martina Navratilova – Martina, things may get a little out of hand at this party, and you’re the only person we know who has a first aid kit in her pocket knife. Would you mind keeping an eye on things tonight? For old times’ sake?
Lady Gaga – Let’s stop playing these LoveGames, Gaga. Our mutual apathy toward each other only belies the fact that we kind of adore you and you basically have no idea who we are. But that’s cool. Since you’ll probably arrive dressed as a circus clown anyway, would you mind blowing up a few balloons? Or better yet, just wearing some?
Bubbles McGaga is also available for weddings and Bar Mitzvahs.
Mr. Peanut – Seeing as how you already spend most of your free time cruising men’s rooms and rest stops, Mr. Peanut, we think you’ll make the perfect bathroom attendant at our party. You’re well-dressed, gentlemanly, and nearsighted to a fault. Still, we know you can at least make out blurry shapes and some colors through that monocle. NOW, QUIT CHECKING OUT MY JUNK!
Nancy Drew – We really hope you’ll unwind tonight and relax with us under the palm fronds, ice sculptures, and barred exits that make our parties inescapably unique. There’s no reason at all for you to follow your nose (and Stevie Nicks) into the men’s bathroom, to investigate what that white powder is. You’re off duty tonight, Nance! Instead, why don’t you put your mind to getting to the bottom of…that bottle of Wild Turkey? We swear, it’s haunted!
Elizabeth Taylor – We’ll put anything you want on the rocks for you, Ms. Taylor! Including all eight of your marriages! But would you mind doing us a favor, Lucky Liz? Would you be a doll and garnish everyone’s cocktails with these DIAMOND GOLD swizzle sticks and CANTALOUPE balls? You’ll be parked by the bar all night anyway!
“The bottle said Bacardi Limon, but I didn’t expect it to be THIS blond!”
Finally, we extend a VIP invitation to all the “adolescent girls who shave their pussies and have sex with horses” out there. According to our blog stats, you’re the search term that brings us the most traffic on a daily basis, even though we’ve never actually written about you. Inexplicably, those search terms link to our post on Linda Ronstadt. Guess we know what that says about her fan base!
Thanks for reading!
5 Comments | Emotions, Gay, Happy Halidays!, Lesbian, Music | Tagged: "Is this the same party where Roman Polanski raped that child model?", Bar Mitzvahs, Bea Arthur, cantaloupe balls, Elizabeth Taylor, Gay Bash, Getting High Seeing Spots, Lady Gaga, Martina Navratilova, Melissa Etheridge, Nancy Drew, Stevie Nicks | Permalink
Posted by breedersdigest
Because it is among the most significant, and most obvious, bastions of male homoeroticism in the United States, hip hop culture (like the U.S. Military and Fred Phelp’s Facebook page) is primarily composed of a delicate mixture of gay hate and woman hate. And now, the internet loves discussing hip hop’s “latest invention” which displays the genre’s constant attention to, and disavowal of, homosexuality. As you might expect given the media attention, the phrase “No Homo” is captivating to straights and gays alike, in its quiet revision of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” into something more like, “You didn’t ask but let me tell you anyway in case you were obsessing about it like I am: I’m not gay.”
Ever since hip hop became commercially viable (i.e. was white-washed into a constant drivel of black stereotypes and phallic symbolism that everyone can enjoy!), homoeroticism has been the scaffolding that props up the aggressive, ego-centric, party-hard, shoot-first-ask-questions-later masculinity that the record execs love to promote. They love artists and videos that say: “Women are nameless sex objects, gays don’t exist, good thing we homies can all hang out together. All the time. Alone. Do you want to have sex with that girl with me?”
“Ain’t no fun unless we all get some.”
Although it’s clear that “No Homo” is just a practical assertion of heterosexuality in this crazy world of mixed-up identities, Dear Breeder, I think it’s time we consider how to properly implement the phrase “NO LESBO” into our daily vocabulary, even if those words will obviously not be useful to the hip hop community (where guys get really turned on together as a group wholly focused on itself at the thought of girl-on-girl action). Here are some everyday situations where I think the phrase would be relevant:
“It seems like the underpinnings of patriarchal oppression are rooted in base-level male insecurities.” NO LESBO!
“I can’t find the muffin tin, and these cupcakes are due for delivery in three hours.” NO LESBO!
“What was the name of the weapon Xena used to kill Darphus?” NO LESBO!
“I think I might be having a miscarriage right now.” NO LESBO!
“Industrial-sized Tidy Cats were buy one, get one free at Target. And I found this cool crew neck sweater for $12.99!” NO LESBO!
“I really wish she had a more positive body image.” NO LESBO!
“Yeah, it’s sort of weird she tried to pass that off as gluten-free.” NO LESBO!
“Baby, can you run to the store to buy more Liquid Nails? I’m overwhelmed right now with re-gripping my tennis racket.” NO LESBO!
“Do you have time to talk?” NO LESBO!
“That seems like a risky song to listen to while you’re on your period. You really need to be emotionally present right now.” NO LESBO!
“I am plotting the overthrow of your racist and simple-minded gender regime.” NO LESBO!
Love from your affirmative lesbian yes-man,
4 Comments | Genre, Lesbian, Music, You're out! | Tagged: Homoeroticism in Hip Hop, It's Officially Lesbian Crew Neck Sweater Season!, Lesbians and Gluten, Lil Wayne, No Homo, No Lesbo, Xena Warrior Princess | Permalink
Posted by breedersdigest
Can you spot the 19,362 differences between these three pictures?
Hint: She’s on the right!
Leave a Comment » | Fashion, Gay, Genre, Lesbian | Tagged: Crocodile Dundee, George Takei, Martina NavratiLOVER, Palindromes | Permalink
Posted by breedersdigest
Nothing goes with heather gray cotton and denim quite like an outdoor walk with dogs! Talk about a walking cliché… This metrosexual family really knows how to stroll! Looks like they got their J.Crew delivery in the mail and decided to make use of it the only way anybody knows how: pair it with a black shoe, take it out to the woods, and enjoy how casual life can be. But the looks on the kids’ faces show that they’ve had it with Mom and Dad’s catalog lifestyle. They’re looking forward to an adolescence filled to the brim with rebellion, quitting things, and possible homosexuality. Cerberus, the family’s two-sometimes-three-headed dog, will be a trusty companion during those years of lackluster efforts and pointed avoidance of overpriced wash n’ wear.
Children have an inherent ability to sense danger from miles away. Scientists theorize it’s because they’re so much closer to the ground. I theorize it’s because they haven’t yet learned to deaden their feelings, to bury their emotions deep inside and then smother them with chicken casserole. Bob shouldn’t have had that second helping at dinner. And Marcia shouldn’t have served it up so readily. The children were fussy. They wouldn’t finish their meals, and all but refused to leave the house for the family’s customary after-dinner walkabout. “But kids,” Marcia had pleaded, “You love looking at the changing leaves. It’s—educational.” That was when disaster struck, hurtling toward them like a bolt from the blue. Another innocent family had fallen prey to…suburban wolf attack! The neighbors might have been able to hear their screams, if only everything in this picture wasn’t so muted.
3 Comments | Emotions, Fashion, Heteronormativity, Leave It To Breeders | Tagged: Adolescent Rebellion, American Walks as Staged Photo Ops, Casseroles and Heterosexual Sluggishness, Cerberus Will Lead You Home, Children and Danger, J. Crew Catalog Lifestyles, Suburban Wolf Attacks | Permalink
Posted by breedersdigest
We’re all familiar with the tried and true line straight people use to get out of having sex with one another: “Not tonight, honey. I have a headache.” And sure, Dear Breeder, it may have gotten you out of the occasional tight spot, literally or figuratively as the case may be. But what you probably don’t realize is that, due to the dangerously high levels of endorphins coursing through our veins and our ability to release stored-up tension with a single, well-timed bon mot, gay men and lesbians never, ever get headaches. Instead, we’re forced to come up with increasingly outlandish excuses to avoid obligatory sex with our respective loved (or despised) ones. Let’s take a little stroll through the Breeder’s Digest Gay Excuse Hall of Fame, shall we?
“Shh! You’ll make the soufflé fall!”
“How dare you spend so much time making small talk with the mail carrier!”
“I just don’t respect you anymore.”
“You know how important it is to me that the butternut squash is planted in time for the harvest celebration.”
“The dog or cat just spilled or ate all our sex lube or condoms!”
“I can feel your mother staring at me.”
“Why does everything have to be a competition with you? For god’s sake, this isn’t Wimbledon, Martina!”
“The lifestyle to which you’ve accustomed me has caused me to become spoiled and sullen.”
Next time you need an excuse to get out of giving or receiving that H, B, or R job, Dear Breeder, feel free to think outside the box! In no time, we guarantee you’ll be off doing something you really enjoy—like cheating on your spouse!
1 Comment | Emotions, Gay, Health & Fitness, I'm Never Doing That Again!, Lesbian, Love | Tagged: Dog In the Bed, Founding Members of Luscious Jackson, Gay Excuse Hall of Fame, How to Get Out of Having Sex, Lesbians: How to Make Sweaters Out of Compost, Martina NavratiLOVER, Radical Faeries R Us, Rodney Dangerfield's Stone Butch Rip-Off, Wondering about Crabs? | Permalink
Posted by breedersdigest
