Commentary: Butt Acne and the Gay Agenda
I’ve never heard of butt acne. If it weren’t for the ad ticker in gmail I probably never would have. My curiosity was piqued, so I decided to learn more via the internet. Apparently, “Butt Acne is nothing to be ashamed of. Both men and women suffer from this condition, some more than other, but it is not gender specific.” I also learned “that acne on the buttocks is not any different than any other kind of acne”, and that “it should be treated the same as any other type of acne.” As one might assume, it also has the potential to be much more painful than acne on other parts of the body.
I struggled with acne when I was a teenager, and my self-esteem was in bloody tatters because of it. Thus, I’ve always had a high degree of empathy for anyone who suffers from it. The person who invented the drugs my dermatologist gave me at 20 years of age? They should be given the Presidential Medal of Honor and have their face planted on the 20 dollar bill. Those pro-actin commercials? Let’s just say there’s an especially warm spot in my heart for Judith Light, and that I don’t make jokes at the expense of Jessica Simpson, even if she deserves it.
Years ago I hooked up with a cute guy who looked like a young Viggo Mortensen. He was exceptionally sweet, yet shy and always at emotional arms length. Even in a crowd of people, engaging him directly produced a feeling of being pulled into a dream, if only for the moments spent speaking with him. He also had a knack of pulling all the quietness from a room and convincing it to keep his company. Mystery being an aphrodisiac, I had to sleep with him. He insisted on turning off all the lights. Bent over in front of me as I fucked him, recognition replaced mystery as I became well acquainted with what was later explained to me as “bacne.” In a moment I understood him in that way only conspirators and survivors are capable. I was empathetic, I treated him well, and while not proud of it, I never called him again.
For gay men in particular, acne is the worst and most peevish of God’s punishments, and the most worthy reason to rebuke him. Those who struggle with it would gladly burn in hell if it mean’t never suffering through another pizza rash, another Saturday night at home, another downward glance. In a tribe with a fundamentalist religion in which the creation and worship of beauty is a central tenet, the mirror is an altar and the young are its high priests. When I see a young pimple faced gay boy, I think of him standing before the altar in his crisis of faith, and it hurts my heart.
If there really is a gay agenda, there needs to be a committee that deals with this issue. That way, every gay kid that comes out of the closet is given not only a copy of the Immaculate Collection, a DVD of “The Women”, and a box of condoms, but also a buttload of free Erythromycin and Corticosteroid Injections. It just seems like the gay thing to do.
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