29 July, 1998

Before We Start

This bit is written on 31 October, 1998 as a followup coz I've been receiving some weird email lately. A quick mini-FAQ:

Why do you hate homosexuals? God preaches love.

I don't hate homosexuals. I like homosexuals. I definitely prefer homosexuals to bigots. I'm sorry if it is not clear to you that I'm poking a bit of fun at godhatesfags.com.

You god-damned faggot, why don't you turn to Christ and stop preaching your false testament you Satan!

First of all, I'm heterosexual. Second of all, Christianity aint my style, so don't hold your breath. As for preaching ... I deliver only opinions, and haven't damned anyone to Hell. As for my identity, my Driver's License says DANIEL JOSEPH HOWARD on it, though many call me dannyman. Please seek psychiatric counseling.

Thank you for reading this brief mini-FAQ. If you have any degree of intellectual competence, you are welcome to read on and even send me email if you like.

-danny
31 October, 1998

God Hates Fags

Aren't they cute? I like that if young ladies are to spread a message of unwarranted hatred, that they should smile for the camera.

According to godhatesfags.com, gay people average twenty to 106 partners per year, whereas us heterosexuals average a mere eight in a lifetime. It also says gay people are far better educated than the average American, and make more money.

I dunno, but it seems that the universe treats them rather well, as far as godhatesfags.com can report.

Jeff Beer reports that his only irritation is that only guys hit on him, and never women. I'd say this is a problem more so for women than a problem with gay guys.

This weekend I took a walk in Grant Park with Jeongie and a friend visiting her from out of town - Carrie. Carrie had those pretty rainbow rings hanging off her neck, and later agreed strongly when Jeongie mentioned that I tended toward Asian women, agreeing with my taste in folks. There was something uplifting about that. I also saw three guys taking a picture in the park, the one guy was holding a camera, and the other two were posing, the one stroking the other's knee. It was a very pleasantly gay day, filled also with pigeons and chickadees scrabbling for food while a Christian troupe conducted skits to prosthlyetize to the rest of us in front of Buckingham Fountain, and ill-fated attempts to catch Saving Private Ryan and to make it bowling.

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