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June 14, 2005
Andrew Sullivan, Hysterical Twat
Kausfiles continues to monitor Excitable Andy's rollercoaster mood-swings so you don't have to.
Criminy. I don't think I've dated chicks who veered between euphoria and melancholy as often (and as severely) as Excitable Andy, and they've got the excuse of, you know, menses.
As I'm just getting back to blogging again, and I've got nothin' anyway, I may have to do another one of my full-day Andrew Sullivan spoofs. This one emphasizing his "I'm vindicated! Success!/All is lost! We're doomed!" style of estrogen-charged commentary.
I've got nothing against Sullivan's homosexuality. I swear it. If I had a taste for man-pooter, I'd be the most promiscuously gay sonofabitch you ever saw.
But honestly, is it wise to combat the gay=femme stereotype by just turning it up to 11?
I know a lot of gay guys. By "a lot," I mean, like, four. And they don't seem to be forever going to pieces like Andy does.
Andy, I mean this in the most respectful way: Butch up. Please. You're embarassing your fellow gay men. They'd like to project an air of confident, if homosexually-directed, masculinity, not the scatterbrained frenzy of Lucy trying to keep up with the candy conveyer-belt.
You know how gays say that there's a little gay in every one? Well, every time Andrew flies off the handle, the little gay dude inside of me says, "Great Kylie Minogue! I don't know how I'll show my face at Restoration Hardware ever again."
Women are allowed to be inconstant. It's what we love about them. (Well, not really, but we tolerate it.) Men are supposed to be, well, kind of even-keeled, even to the point of stupid stubborness.
Just... I don't know. Calm the f' down. Have a cream soda. Do some fucking thing.