A revised Four Noble Truths for Gays

Adam over at Fly Like a Crow has an awesome post about the Four Noble Truths of Parenting. His post was so inspiring – and girls you better read it! – that I had to come up with a new Four Noble Truths for Gays. True I had written about such a litany in the past, but let’s update it a bit and get a bit cheeky, shall we?

And so here they are, the Four Noble Truths for circuit partying homos and other “sexual deviants .”

Now this – all you go-go boys, bears, twinks, muscle queens, leather daddies, angora queens, closet cases, dragalicious divas, nerds and straight-acting-total-bottoms – is the noble truth of stress: body waxing is stressful, pyramid workouts are stressful, cold sores are stressful, smegma stench is stressful, Christina Aguilera is stressful, a sold-old Scissor Sisters concert when you don’t have a ticket is stressful, a Cosmo with too much lime is stressful, new leather chaps are stressful, dance floors so crowded you can’t move are stressful, finding out the dude you just hit on is underage is stressful, having your credit card rejected is stressful, not being carded at the door is stressful, learning that you can’t buy “The Pool Boy” anymore because Brent Corrigan was only 16 when he made it is stressful, finding out it wasn’t just a cold sore is stressful, genital wart removal is stressful, returning home to find out that you already have the shirt you just bought is stressful, finding out your liaison doesn’t like to kiss is stressful, worrying that you perspire too much in light clothing is stressful, waiting for your HIV test results is stressful, pushing on a Marine's bellybutton and his legs don't go up in the air is stressful, seeing your date in pleated trousers is stressful. In short, the entire glamorous life of being gay is stressful.

And this, my fellow moes, is the origination of stress: desiring a hairless body when your genes come from a gorilla, wanting a chiseled body that that will turn to flab when you retire, needing to look flawless before you go out, not paying attention to body odor before you decide to sniff the swarthy saber, not having better taste in music, waiting too long to buy your ticket, knowing the bartender doesn’t know how to make a fucking Cosmo but you order it anyway because you want to be seen with it, not knowing about Bick leather conditioner, wanting to flail about like an unhinged dancing queen, forgetting that interest in you is not always genuine, because you’re unwilling to live within your means, forgetting that yes we do get old, you should have bought “The Pool Boy” while it was still available, having a sexual appetite that overrides reason and prudence, see previous clause, you’re getting old, expecting a casual sex encounter to be the same as doing someone you really care about, failing to know how to dress, failing to accept the fact that multiple partners means multiple risks, reading too much into the repeal of Don't Ask Don't Tell, thinking you can find happiness in an online dating service. This is how you stress yourself.

And this, my brethren moes, is the noble truth of the cessation of stress: The letting go of the compulsion to be someone other than who you are, understanding that your worth as a person is not defined by how much you spend, nor is it defined by how others view you, and realizing a craving for sex is connected with your self-perceived value as a person (you are attempting to reproduce the affection you missed as a child), and a failure to pay attention to common fashion magazines like Details.

And this, my fellow queens and moes, is the path leading to the ending of all that stress, the Noble Queerfold Path which leads to inner peace and an intense orgasm: Right Spending, Right Friends, Right Self-value, Right Sincerity, Right Honor, Right Compassion, Right Love, and Right Restraint.

Oh shit, I just realized that now I will have to blog about each of these in the true Noble Queerfold Path. But you know what, I think I will have fun doing that.