In past columns, I’ve deceived you. Taken advantage of your provocation-seeking ear. Not only have I fabricated stories pertaining to my homosexuality, but I’ve made-up that whole thing about being gay.
Here’s the thing: Being gay is cool and all. Boys are cute and fun. And need I remind you, from column one, that “Surely I like the cock?” But truthfully, I’m in this whole gay business for me. I am a selfish, narcissistic individual, and thus, I love myself. So much that I wish to date people only like myself. And in what other sexual arena could I do that except homosexuality?
Think about it: Those few things that you like about yourself — your eyes, your hair, your hot blue shirt — I have like, a lot of those. So what do I do? I seek out those things in someone else. And sorry ladies, but I just can’t find certain traits, physical and non-physical alike, in you-all. I have to look to my own gender to find those who are most like me, and thus, most satisfying to date.
Homosexuality, then, is a grand scheme, a guise under which to love myself. Not only that, but to seek out someone like myself whom I can equally love, but all the while perpetuating the love for myself. It’s pretty cool. And there are other benefits afforded to me as a purported homosexual who’s dating himself, too.
My boyfriend and I are the same size. (Ahem, waist and inseam). Thus, we can swap clothes at will. “Hey, that shirt looks cute on you!” secretly means, “Mmmm … that shirt would look really good on me!” Plus, we look alike. So all those features of my face that I enjoy, he’s got, too. Also, I enjoy kissing someone as tall as myself. This benefit is certainly possible for heterosexuals, but I imagine that there is generally less of a height discrepancy between members of homosexual couples than between heterosexual ones. That is, if I were actually homosexual.
And get this: In dating myself, I’ve found someone who dances as well as I can, who drinks as much as I can, who likes to fool around as much as I do. All those discrepancies that exist between both heterosexual couples and between homosexuals who aren’t dating themselves don’t exist for us.
And let us not forget the point of all this: In dating each other, we fall in love — with ourselves. More than we once were! Unbelievable! If he does something cute, I like both him and me more, because I’d probably do the same thing given the opportunity. Yes friends, we faux-homosexuals have it good.
All right, maybe I am gay. (Maybe…)
But my point stands that it’s pretty fun to date someone like myself. And I didn’t plan on that happening — it’s an unexpected fringe benefit of homosexual dating. I’m all for diversity in relationships and opposites attracting and all that jazz, but in this case, I did find someone who is very much like me, and because I am a confident, self-appreciating individual, I appreciate he who is very much like me.
I’m not as arrogant as I sound (although some friends would disagree); my point is to make a point: That same-sex love can feed personal-love in a very humorous but real way.
Some homosexuals are self-deprecating, for whatever reasons. They let stereotypes or expectations get them down. Well, not this homosexual. I proudly proclaim that I love myself, and being a homosexual allows me to date others that not only love themselves, but love parts of themselves that I see in myself. I’m simply following the advice of Incubus’s Brandon Boyd: I suggest we learn to love ourselves before it’s made illegal.
I mean … have you ever dated yourself? You should try it sometime.
Steve thanks you for your continued support and/or nonsupport. You, the avid reader; you, the avid hater; you, the guy who picked up the Daily and saw I had a column for the first time today; you, facebook wife Laura Ochoa; you, whom I’ve written about repeatedly — Steve’s only hope is that you have enjoyed reading what he has so enjoyed writing. If you haven’t … well, you probably haven’t had a column in the Daily, and there’s probably a reason why. Think about that. Grazie mille a tutti! Steve can be reached at email@example.com.