More Wildlife News: Stop Feeding the Bears

Two things in so called" gay culture" that have made me want to run to the ex-gay conversion therapy with Ted Haggard are that Madonna creature (there is no excuse for 'it"; friends don't let friends listen to that Madonna creature) and "bears". The only thing more disgusting than the concept of bears is being around bears. The best way I can describe bears is that they act like a bunch of straight guys imitating lesbians aping straight male behavior. Although I'm attracted to a minor aspects of the look such as a certain amount of appropriately groomed facial and body hair, the overall package makes me want to start adopting 1950s screaming interior decorator behavior.

I recently got in trouble with a couple of friends who are self-identified bears who took me to a bear bar that I called The House of the Big Mamas. That didn't go over well. "How can you say such a thing, Junk Thief?!" "It's easy; I open my mouth and let the truth come out."

If I'm feeling fat an unattractive, the last thing I need is to hang out with a bunch of other fat and unattractive queens posturing as emotionally constipated straight guys with B.O. wearing flannel and pretending that they love the music of Steppenwolf. However, such places are a good wake up call to put down the milkshake and get back to the gym.

I would prefer using the name of my first crush as a moniker for any group that I would ever organize or seek out. So I was pleased to recently discover the Ministry of Sluggo which is run by a non-bear who is not exactly what I'd picture Sluggo to have grown up to be but will do just fine. I can even forgive him for having one song by that Madonna creature in his iPod since it's a throwaway novelty tune.

Of course, I don't think anyone could ever live up to what I thought Sluggo should be -- a slightly tough kid from the Bronx who would always be snuggly and sweet with me but could beat up anybody who insulted us or our BFF Nancy. But I'm not sure I like the idea of there ever being a group of Sluggos. I often wonder how Libertarians manage to get along since the very idea of coming together to organize a party counters their grounding ideals. Perhaps we'll someday have a Ron Paul Memorial Freeway, a patch of rock and tumbleweed strewn prairie that leads nowhere.