Pasta

Posted on September 30, 2013

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Hey, have you heard? Apparently the president of Barilla Pasta has said that gay people should eat someone else’s pasta because you see he likes traditional families and the gays aren’t too traditional with their same sex loving and marriage and such. And so the gays of the world are up in arms calling for a boycott expect you see, as the running joke goes, the joke is on Barilla because the gays, God bless them, would never eat pasta. It’s so funny. Haha. It’s so funny that the same exact joke was used by everyone. Absolutlely everyone. Stephen Colbert used it. Jimmy Fallon used it. Jay leno used it. It was on the Huffington Post, on CNN, on the morning shows… Even my friends used it: doctors, advertisers, professors, designers, historians, musicians.

And it’s so funny because haha of course the gays don’t eat pasta. Because the gays are obsessed with their bodies and carbs are the enemy of the six pack. What could be worse than a gay man eating carbs. Haha. So funny! Carbs is for straight people not for self-respecting gays, because, after all, if you eat carbs, then you can’t possibly have a nice body, and if you don’t have a nice body why on earth would anyone want to ever ever have sex with you. And if gays are not having sex, then what possible reason could they have for being alive. Haha! It’s so funny! I just can’t stop laughing. Every penne gets in the way of getting cock.

And now, every tortellini you eat supports the bigotry of the pasta empire of the world, and if you needed more of a reason to hate yourself, then there you go, you’re a bigot for eating spaghetti with a side of homophobia. Want some lasagna? You’re a bigot. A fat bigot. A fat bigot that will die alone, unloved, and holding on to your virginity because who could ever learn to love a beast (respect if you got that reference!).

Because, in case you didn’t know it, the day you come out, you’ve signed a lifetime membership to the gym where you need to go every day, twice a day. You’ve signed up for a lifetime for pushups, setups, leg curls, and self-hate. Your once satisfactory body will be the source of your depression, and you’ll look at yourself in the mirror every morning wondering why you’re so fat and wondering who could ever love someone who has 7% body fat.

And then, after 6 months of intense training, you’ll start taking hundreds of pictures of yourself topless. You’ll hate all of them, except for one, where the lighting is just right, where your muscles seem almost perfect. You’ll post that picture on Grindr, ManJam, GayRomeo, and Scruff, head cut off, of course. And you’ll get lots and lots and lots of people chatting you up, wanting to fuck you, wanting to be fucked by you, wanting to kiss you, lick you, use you. But none of them will want to love you and that’s fine because who has time for love. We’ve got to go the gym.

And you’ll sit there and feel bad for the other gays, the ones no one talks about, the ones who have a belly, the ones who don’t shave their chests, the ones who don’t work their biceps. Haha! They’re so funny thinking that anyone will ever love them. I’m sure they eat pasta.

And then you’ll realize that there are other boys who are hotter, with sexier bodies, and you’ll limit your diet to pure protein. And you’ll increase your time at the gym. And you’ll start drinking protein shakes. And you’ll limit your alcohol intake to 2 glasses a week (only the white stuff, of course). And you’ll cut down on your social life. And you’ll lose your friends. And you’ll die alone.

But you’ll have the hottest picture on Grindr and Scruff and so many people will want to sleep with you and you’ll feel like you’ve accomplished your life long dream of being able to get fucked whenever you want it.  

Gays don’t eat pasta. Haha! That’s so funny.

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