I was nineteen when I wrote this and it's embarrassing now to look back on how presumptuous and heavy-handed it was.
I never really thought about actually ever being thirty. At the time, that was the most far-fetched part.
A Single Gay Male On His Thirtieth Birthday
(1.Doubt 2.Lonely 3.Nightmare)
Just another day on the calendar, yesh yesh
Y'all, up in the club, wearing my lavender mesh vest
Sat down next to this kid, a hung youngster
Wearing a t-shirt that said "Cum Dumpster"
I took him home, being something of a muddyfunster
And we did the monster mash, like the Munsters
It wasn't no Thing, but boy did I Lurch
When he got up in the morning, got dressed, and went to church
Just the night before he'd offered me his ass to breach
And now he had a mass to preach and a class to teach?
Damn, he's a minister - he kicks it Jesus Christ style
Now I feel like he must be judging me and my life style
For real though, a minister, I wonder what the reason is?
Where have all the cowboys gone? The drag queens and hedonists?
Come to think of it, I can hardly even remember
The last time I wore fetish gear even as late as September
Shit, am I getting old? My abs have started to soften
I'd better get down to the YMCA more often
These days I use caution, I used to be reckless
I had it eight times a week and had a straight boy checklist
Used to have coffee and sausage for breakfast, best of all
I never had a moment of concern for words like cholesterol
Testosterone was my chemical of choice, I was high on lust
Iron cock and balls, but I suppose even iron rusts
But hey, let's not go nuts, I still look damn good
And still haven't got any doubt as to my manhood
I'm down to like put it in the place where you sit on
I'm going downtown tonight and I better get hit on
Home alone again, twenty nine years and threehundredsixtyfour days
After my birth... I need another lite beer
I like my life right here, your average white queer
But looking back at my childhood, it seems like lightyears
Ostracized by my peers in school, glad that's behind me
But will anyone think I'm beautiful when I'm ninety?
Not to put it too finely, I've been so concerned with getting cuter
That I've never made any kind of plans for the future
Never learned about computers or long term investments
Blithely living hand to mouth, avoiding the big questions
Felt like I was destined to remain a swinging bachelor
But these one night stands are starting to leave me empty
I want to call my mom but she seems so uncomfortable
She never really thought my lifestyle choice was wonderful
Under all the hurt, though, I know she still cares about
Her baby boy's overall conditions and whereabouts
I should call her, it's been two years or thereabouts
'Cause last time I was so hurt when she got up in my hair about
Wasn't I over this yet? Time to be bland, average
And give her grandchildren - like what do I look like, Dan Savage?
I feel more like Buddy Cole and being a stereotype bothers me
But it's been a struggle to fit in where I go, like sodomy
Heh... it's getting late, I'm sobering up, time for beddy-bye
There'll be plenty of time for introspection when my thoughts are more steady
I know it's petty, but right now, it hurts me the worst way
To be a single gay male on his thirtieth birthday
(various samples of speeches given by Westboro Baptist Church pastor Fred Phelps, taken from their website in 1999 or 2000)
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