Butch Coolidge from Pulp Fiction vs. The Quartering: Happy Belated Pride Month!

 

Drag Queen Derangement Syndrome

VERSE 1

You always like to brag about being offensive

But when it’s thrown back at you, you go on the defensive

It’s never funny when it happens to you

Just your strawman drag queen gay black jew

You think of drag queens more than they think of themselves

Even though not one of them is hoarding the wealth

Then you go on a rant about men’s mental health

Calm the fuck down, Chad, you did it to yourself

 

CHORUS

Drag Queen Derangement Syndrome

The kind of disease that puts you in the happy home

From the gates of agony to the puzzle factory

All because a dress-wearer just wanted flattery

 

VERSE 2

When you’re at a drag show, you get an erection

Then all of the queens need some witness protection

When you pull out a gun bigger than your own dick

And hold down the trigger for a symphony of clicks

Now all of the sudden, you’re the next Jesus Christ

And a shoo-in for employment with the incels at ICE

Now I know why you like to wear a ski mask

‘Cause you’re drooling like a dog when you see a queen’s ass

 

CHORUS

Drag Queen Derangement Syndrome

The kind of disease that puts you in the happy home

From the gates of agony to the puzzle factory

All because a dress-wearer just wanted flattery

 

VERSE 3

Your hard drive is a treasure trove of perversion

The only sexual relief for unlovable virgins

You got pics of Kamala in leather lingerie

But they’re fake as fuck, that’s why AI has an A

Deepfakes on AOC baring her breasts

But yours are much bigger, spinal health is a mess

Pictures of drag queens eating up all your RAM

And a ten-year-old girl posing naked on web cams

 

CHORUS X2

Drag Queen Derangement Syndrome

The kind of disease that puts you in the happy home

From the gates of agony to the puzzle factory

All because a dress-wearer just wanted flattery

 

OUTRO

You honestly think Michelle Obama is a man?

That must be the reason why you’ve got your dick in your hand!

James Somerton: His Favorite Football Team Is the Stealers (Not a Typo)

 

Alan Harper vs. Lee Greenwood: One and a Quarter Men

 

Mr. Green from Clue vs. Toad from Super Mario Brothers 2: The Key to Victory Is...the Key to Victory!

Vic Mackey from The Shield vs. Milo Yiannopoulos

 

Dave Rubin

 

Carlos Maza vs. Steven Crowder

 

"Theft By Finding" by David Sedaris

BOOK TITLE: Theft By Finding

AUTHOR: David Sedaris

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Nonfiction

SUBGENRE: LGBT Memoir

GRADE: Pass

From 1977 to 2002, David Sedaris keeps a personal diary of growing up as a working class gay man, traveling all over America and Europe to make ends meet. He comes in contact with all sorts of wacky characters, publishes many pieces of writing, puts on multiple plays, teaches classes full of ungrateful students, and takes classes of his own whether it’s learning to speak French or putting together an artistic sculpture. There’s never a shortage of weird moments in this memoir. In fact, if the book had been completely wholesome, it wouldn’t have been as entertaining as it was. Thank you, David Sedaris, for living through these strange experiences so that the rest of us don’t have to!

Speaking of strange experiences, the crazy people David describes in this book remind me a lot of anyone I would have to share public transportation with during my college days. Sometimes he’d cross paths with belligerent beggars who’d relentlessly swear at him whenever he refused to give them change. Sometimes he’d work with blatant bigots whether they were homophobes, racists, or sexists (this is not-so-shockingly frequent during his time in North Carolina in the 70’s and 80’s). And then there are just people who want to talk to nothing or have a good scream, also at thin air. No matter where in the world he goes, he can’t seem to get away from all the madness. He could go to heaven itself and it would still be full of awkward and uncomfortable people. These are not memories I necessarily want to relive, but I’m also grateful that I’m not alone in experiencing such discomfort.

The one part of the book that really got my blood boiling though was when David studied French overseas and had an overly aggressive teacher. This woman was a hybrid between the Scottish teacher from Pink Floyd the Wall and Gunnery Sergeant Hartmann from Full Metal Jacket. She yelled at her students, humiliated them, and did it all in the name of a “good education”. The only thing that angered me more than her attitude was that David Sedaris and many of his fellow students actually praised her for her tough love approach. Folks, I’ve had my fair share of bad teachers and if you ever caught me praising them, just do me a favor and shoot me in the head. The tough love approach doesn’t do anything except breed contempt. I’ll never understand why people say that they learn better from tough teachers. Again, this is not a memory I enjoyed reliving, but I’m also grateful to know that I’m not wrong in feeling the way that I feel.

One more thing I want to touch on. I know David Sedaris’s writing is supposed to be categorized as humor, but I can count on one hand how many times I’ve laughed throughout reading Theft By Finding. These weren’t even hyena laughs either, they were just casual chuckles. Granted, it doesn’t take away from the passing grade I’m giving this book, but a little true advertising would have helped. If anything, this memoir depressed me rather than made me believe in laughing out loud. It makes me appreciate my comfortable life even more, so at least I can be thankful for that. One of the lines that made me laugh though was that a gun store in New York was having a “blowout sale”. Oh, the irony!

Despite the minimal laughter I got from this book, it was still an entertaining read that I would recommend to anybody looking for good nonfiction. If nothing else, it’s a sobering look into the darkest parts of American and international life, especially North Carolina during the Reagan years. The bigotry that went on during those times was heartbreaking and overwhelming. The sad part is, we’re repeating all of that in today’s world in the age of Trump. A passing grade will got to this dark, dystopian piece of nonfiction!

"A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo" by Jill Twiss

BOOK TITLE: A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo

AUTHOR: Jill Twiss

YEAR: 2018

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: LGBT Children’s Book

GRADE: Extra Credit

In the stuffiest room in the white house, there lived Marlon Bundo, a lovable bunny rabbit whose grandpa is the dull and boring Vice President Mike Pence. Feeling lonely in his little room, Marlon hops out into the garden and meets another beautiful male bunny named Wesley. The two rabbits fall in love and decide to get married so that they can hop everywhere forever. The only thing stopping them is the strict rule of Mr. Stink Bug (an obvious Mike Pence parody), who says that boy bunnies can only marry girl bunnies. Only when the creatures of the garden come together for a democratic vote can Marlon and Wesley show Mr. Stink Bug that love trumps hate.

If you’re a regular viewer of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver like I am, you’ll know exactly why this book was published: to screw with hard-right homophobe Mike Pence. Anytime that the LGBT community gets to shine its brightest colors is a good day for the world at large. There’s too much bullying and hatred against these poor folks, so any victory they achieve in the name of social justice should be celebrated. What better way to celebrate than with a cute and cuddly gay wedding between two sweethearted bunny-pies?

Speaking of things that are cute and cuddly, that’s another aspect of this book that will earn critical acclaim. Your smile will get bigger and goofier when you see Wesley and Marlon hopping around together like sweet little bunnies should. The other garden animals from the puppy-duppy to the turtle will also steal your heart. And then when the wedding finally happens, you’ve got little mice and porcupines dressed up in their Sunday best, which always looks adorable. You’ll be saying “aww” throughout the entire book. Not even the inner ugliness of Mr. Stink Bug will ruin your experience because once again, love trumps hate and his hateful ways won’t last forever.

So now that we’ve got our LGBT pride and cuteness nailed down, the only other thing to discuss is how important democracy is, since it plays a vital role in the book’s ending. I know there are times when democracy seems dead as a doornail. I know we don’t always like our choices between candidates. I know the people in power like to make voting difficult for the less fortunate. I know it seems like elections can be bought and sold like Wal-Mart goodies. But just like in this book, the power of your vote is more urgent now than it has ever been. If you don’t vote, the Mr. Stink Bugs of the world will.

One hundred percent of the profits from this book will be donated to LGBT charities specializing in suicide prevention and AIDS research. Even if you don’t have children of your own, you’ll still enjoy this book to its fullest extent for all of the reasons I’ve listed above. If on the other hand you do have children, let them know that being different is okay and should be celebrated rather than feared. Nobody is truly alone in this world despite the negative pressure dictating otherwise. An extra credit grade will go to this beautifully crafted book with a positive message and cuddly characters.

Silent Warrior, Chapter 25

Tom Simpson dared not tread on sacred ground, otherwise known as the Xanax Pavilion, where a special kind of ceremony was being held. Instead he sat in the driver’s seat of his car and allowed the soft sound of “True” by Spandau Ballet to relax his aching soul. He closed his eyes like a dam keeping his raw tears in check. He knew what was going on in that pavilion. Cheers, screams, and general happiness, the latter of which he knew nothing about. This was the next generation of greatness…and among that generation was Scott fucking George.

The sound of that name running through his pounding head caused Tom to clutch the steering wheel with strangulating force. He could have ripped the damn thing off if he wasn’t careful. But if such hulk-like strength was possible, he could only imagine how easy it could be to disconnect Scott’s head from his shoulders. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do that. Maybe it could be a series of powerful haymakers. Maybe Tom could gouge his eyes out through the back of his skull. Maybe he could feast on Scott’s worm-infested brain like a zombie and never have to eat again. Oh shit, there he was.

The new generation of knowledge and wisdom poured out of the pavilion dressed in gowns, caps, and bright smiles. Scott led the pack with happy tears in his eyes, though Tom would be more convinced if such wetness came from a crocodile. Even more disturbing to the disgraced teacher was watching Adrienne and her mother Julie hugging it out with Scott and showering him with sugar and kisses. Julie looked beautiful in that flowery sundress and blond hair. Adrienne looked cuter than a baby bunny as she hopped up and down on her love interest’s arms. But Scott…oh, Scott…

Tom turned off the ignition and got out of his car to stare down the unsuspecting trio. His heart was frozen cold and his blood was boiling hot at the same time. Just a few punches to Scott’s jaw would make everything okay again. Daddy would come to the rescue and put the Simpson family back together again. No more would Scott become man of the house. But even in Tom’s icy heart, he knew such an outcome was only a Hollywood fantasy. A tear rolled down his cheek as he sat on the sidewalk with his head lurched forward. “What am I doing?” he quietly asked himself. He continued ranting in solitude, “This isn’t me…this isn’t me…I couldn’t…I couldn’t…uh-oh….”

The last bit came when the shadow of a rotund woman was cast over him. Tom slowly peeked upward and saw a lovely smile on the face of a high school graduate in a cap and gown. She appeared to have Down Syndrome, which still made her more beautiful than Tom could ever imagine himself being. The young lady held a tiny LGBT flag in her hand and waved it around while shuffling her sneaker-wearing feet. “It’s okay to be gay!” she sang over and over again in a cutesy-wutesy voice before handing the flag to Tom.

For the first time in a long while, Tom’s smile was genuine and heartfelt. “I guess it is okay. I guess so. But how did you…?”

“These things have a way of getting out. That’s okay, though. I still like you anyways!” said the young lady as she patted Tom on his disheveled hair. She introduced herself as Misty Keith before Tom introduced himself offered her a place to sit, which she took. Misty gently rubbed the ex-teacher’s shoulder blades and pointed at Adrienne while saying, “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“Yeah…yeah, she is. And smart too,” said Tom with solemnity. “She’s going to grow up to be quite the remarkable woman, that’s for sure. But unfortunately, I probably won’t get to see it happen. Not in my lifetime.”

“How come?”

“…You wouldn’t understand. It’s…rather complicated.”

“Try me.”

Tom took a deep breath and held his face in his triangulated hands. “I said some things to her and her mother that I shouldn’t have said. I raised my voice at them. I tried to make them something they’re not. And this is the end result of it all: a nasty divorce and a new man in their lives. I can’t even find it in my heart to be angry anymore. I’m just…” Another tear traveled down Tom’s face and Misty was there to wipe it away with a restaurant napkin. “Thank you, young lady.”

“You’re welcome,” said Misty as she ruffled Tom’s hair yet again. “Why don’t you just tell them you’re sorry?”

“Oh, Misty…I wish things were that simple. Trust me, if I knew I could make things right with a wishy-washy apology, then I would have done it a long time ago. But unfortunately, not all stories have a Hollywood ending. If I tried to apologize to Julie and Adrienne…they’d just tell me to fuck off again.”

“You don’t have to do it right now, Mr. Simpson,” said Misty as she wiped away more tears from Tom’s face. “Give them some time. Don’t rush into things. Remember: slow and steady wins the race.”

Tom smiled and shook his head. “That’s a lot of wisdom coming from an eighteen year old. I’m decades ahead of you and even I couldn’t figure that out in time. That’s amazing to me. So what are you going to do now that you’re done with high school?”

“I’m going to be an artist!” said Misty with excitement in her voice and a gleam in her eye. She even pantomimed paintbrush strokes to solidify her dreams. “I’m going to draw lots of pretty pictures and be in an art gallery someday! You want to see one of my drawings?” After Tom nodded, she pulled a folded up drawing out of her breast pocket and showed it to him.

Tom’s eyes grew wide with impressiveness as he saw a highly-detailed drawing of roses and trees, colored with unique shades of purple, orange, and teal. There was even a fairy with butterfly wings waving hi in the background. “That’s amazing, Misty. You’ve definitely worked hard on this drawing.”

“Thanks!” said Misty before she pecked Tom on his cheek, causing him to blush slightly. “So what are you going to do now, Mr. Simpson?”

Tom shrugged his shoulders and said, “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out this whole time, Misty. In the meantime, I’ve been collecting unemployment checks and dipping into my savings. I can’t live this way anymore. Something has to change. I don’t want to be a teacher anymore. If I can’t get through to my own daughter, let alone Scott George, then I don’t deserve to teach history.”

“If you don’t like teaching, you should find something you love doing,” advised Misty. “Maybe you could draw lovely pictures like me. Or maybe you can play the piano. Or you could dance!”

“Once again, you wisdom shines through, young lady. My own students and my own family have been telling me something along those lines for years. I didn’t listen to them. Now I’ve got unemployment checks and a broken heart.”

Patting Tom’s shoulders, Misty said, “It’s never too late to start over again, Mr. Simpson. You don’t have to decide what you want to do right away. Take your time. It’ll come to you. Maybe you can find yourself a nice boyfriend.”

Tom chuckled in embarrassment and shook his head. “You’re funny, Misty. You really are.” Seeing that wonderful smile on her face, he asked, “You’re serious about that last part, aren’t you?”

Misty shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?” She stood up and waved at her mom and dad in the crowd. “I have to go now, Mr. Simpson. You think about what I’ve said today. I just have one more question before I go. Are you sure you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“Yes, Misty, I’m sure,” said Tom with a sad smile. Misty waved at him and trotted happily away towards her own parents. Tom ducked his head and said, “I can’t even afford to be a good husband and father.” His legs ached as he heaved himself up and plopped down in the driver’s seat of his car, turning the stereo back on.

Feeling a little more relaxed now, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander between Misty’s talking points and what his next move was going to be. Tom learned more about the world in that one conversation than his college degree gave him credit for. Being mentally disabled nor being gay was anything to be ashamed of. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Tom Simpson was free from psychological bondage. Free from anger at the world around him. Free from a job he never loved. Free from judgment for his past sins. His body was so relaxed at that moment that he almost fell asleep in the car. A mid-afternoon nap with a creative dream: what beautiful things.

Silent Warrior, Chapter 15

The fact that Mr. Simpson didn’t get a speeding ticket or a smashed up car on the drive to his daughter’s house was nothing short of miraculous. His hands squeezed the steering wheel like it was the throat of Scott George. His eyes burned brightly like a fiery orphanage. His veins bulged and pulsated while his teeth were so tightly clamped that he could easily max out his dental insurance. When he finally pulled up to Adrienne’s house, he slammed on the brakes and nearly smashed his forehead against the windshield (another miracle that he didn’t).

The history teacher huffed and wheezed in an attempt to reason with himself. He didn’t want to go in there guns blazing (because he still loved his daughter), but that message scrawled across his blackboard did no favors for his boiling rage. It played over and over in his head like a scratchy record of cacophonic screaming. He got out of the car and slammed the driver’s door shut before marching with authority to the front door of Adrienne’s house.

Taking a few more deep breaths to steady his pulsating nerves, he noticed his ex-wife’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Adrienne must have been home alone. Or maybe not. Maybe he was with someone a little more familiar to her. Mr. Simpson clutched his agonized face and scraped his fingernails across his cheeks in a raw attempt to push that thought to the back of his mind. He opened the door without knocking and bolted straight for Adrienne’s room. A few more whirlwinds of anxiety-crushing breaths later, he barged into his daughter’s room and caught her painting her toenails bright pink.

Adrienne crab walked across her bed and allowed her nail polish to spill all over her carpeted floor. “D…Dad? What are you doing here? Don’t you know how to knock?” she stuttered.

With a sinister visage and clenched fists, Mr. Simpson took a few more hard breaths before stating his business in the house that was once his. “Your mother and I may be divorced. It may have been one of the worst experiences in the Simpson family history. But I am still your father, Adrienne. I still love you very much. That’s why I must insist that you stay away from Scott George.”

Her jaw quivering, Adrienne said, “W…why? I love him, Dad. He loves me too.”

“That’s not love!” belted Mr. Simpson, causing his daughter to jump out of her skin. “Scott George doesn’t give a damn about anybody but himself. He’s dating you to get back at me. I may be a rotten bastard at times, but at least I’d never hurt you the way he’s going to.”

Sobbing and breathing heavily at the same time, Adrienne said, “Bullshit! You’ve done nothing but hurt me and my mom ever since you married her! All the yelling, all the rules, all the arguments…I remember everything, Dad. I’ll always remember those no matter how many times I see my therapist. Yeah, Dad: you put me in therapy. That must be a proud moment in your life. So much yelling. I can still hear it in my head!”

Crossing his arms, Mr. Simpson said, “I didn’t yell at you and your mom because I wanted to cause you pain. I did it because I wanted order. That was something this household was lacking for a long time. Your grades weren’t always the best and your mother was complacent at her job. Sometimes yelling is the best way to get through to someone. You’ll understand one day when you’re a mother, hopefully not with Scott’s child.”

“Order?” cried Adrienne as she shot up from her bed and shoved her father. “I call bullshit! I had you figured out a long time ago, Dad! In fact, I want to show you something that you’ll never be able to deny.” She reached in her underwear drawer and pulled out a stack of magazines before slamming them on her computer desk for Mr. Simpson’s perusal.

The teacher’s heart thumped deafeningly in his chest as he thumbed through the magazines and saw pictures of athletically gifted men with chiseled frames. “Heh…your porn collection? Does your mom know you have this?”

“They’re not my magazines, Dad. They’re yours.”

Mr. Simpson’s blood froze into a solid block of anxiety. His nerves tingled as he took one more look at these “beautiful” men. “Where did you find these?”

“Under your bed, Dad. I’ve known about them for a long time now, but I didn’t want to say anything because I was too interested in keeping this family together,” confessed Adrienne, who held her father’s hands in hers with a tender loving touch. “Dad…” she sobbed. “I don’t care that you’re gay. I would have loved you anyways. You didn’t have to keep it locked inside you this whole time. Hell, I would have helped you find a nice boyfriend. You’re angry at everyone because you don’t feel accepted. You didn’t have to take it out on your own family. You don’t have to take it out on your students either. Dad…let me help you! Please!”

Mr. Simpson pulled his hands out of his daughter’s loving grasp and angrily whispered, “I’m beyond help, Adrienne. There’s no turning back for me or this family. And there’s certainly no turning back for Scott George. It’s like I said to him in detention this morning: I’m definitely going to hell for all of the disgusting things I’ve done. But if I’m going to hell, I’m taking the whole world with me. Every homophobe, every bigot, and everybody in between…they’re all going down in flames. I don’t know how I’m going to get back at Scott, but it’s going to happen. Detention isn’t good enough for him. I need something a little extra!”

Adrienne dropped to her knees and begged her father, “Please! Don’t hurt my boyfriend! I love him!”

Petting his daughter’s hair with fake comfort, Mr. Simpson said, “Don’t worry, my darling. I’m not going to get physical with him. I can’t even afford a pistol on my teacher’s salary. Like I said, I don’t know what I’m going to do to him yet, but when I do…I’m going to make it hurt!”

“No…no…NO!” wept Adrienne while pounding her father’s chest with clenched fists. “Don’t do it! Leave him alone! He’s mine, goddamn it! He’s mine!”

To end the assault, Mr. Simpson shoved Adrienne on her ass and caused her to bawl even louder than before. Realizing what he just did, he clutched his scalp and sighed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Adrienne. I didn’t mean to do that. Here, let me help you up.”

He offered his hand for Adrienne to grab, but instead of accepting it, she screamed, “Get out! Get out of my house and don’t come back! You’re not a father! You’re a glorified sperm donor! I hate you, Dad! I fucking hate you! Get out of my house before I call the police! Move it!”

Holding up his hands defensively, Mr. Simpson backed off and silently said, “Okay, I’m leaving. It’s okay, dear. It’s okay.”

As the teacher turned around to leave, he overheard Adrienne screaming at him some more. “No! It’s not okay! It’ll never be okay again! Get the fuck out of my house, you pig! You wanted this divorce! Now you’ve got it!” That last sentence was punctuated by Adrienne throwing a hardcover book at her dad and nailing him in the back of the neck, to which the teacher just flinched and shrugged it off. He ran out of the house and back into the driver’s seat of his car.

Mr. Simpson clutched the steering wheel tightly while tears poured from his eyes. Adrienne’s words stung him like a thousand scorpion tails. He almost considered backing off from Scott just out of respect for her. He still wanted to love his daughter. He still wanted to make things right. But she wouldn’t let him. Nobody would. He even damned his own sexual chemistry for getting in the way of what could have been a beautiful family love.

He screamed like a gorilla and wailed on the steering wheel with closed fists. His assault could have easily disabled his own vehicle if it hadn’t been for one lingering thought interrupting his moment of rage. He still had one more person to talk to that morning. There was somebody out there who could make things right even though they were on less agreeable terms than him and Adrienne.

Mr. Simpson smiled maniacally and breathed heavily as he said to himself, “Miss Williams…guess who’s coming to breakfast!” He laughed like a loony toon as he started his car and peeled out onto the empty suburban street, once again evading a speeding ticket through the kindness and mercy of the universe.

"Stuck Rubber Baby" by Howard Cruse

BOOK TITLE: Stuck Rubber Baby

AUTHOR: Howard Cruse

YEAR: 1995

GENRE: Graphic Novel

SUBGENRE: LGBT Fiction

GRADE: Extra Credit

Closeted gay man Toland Polk is caught in the crossfire of the civil rights era in America’s bible belt. Minorities are being killed, buildings are being bombed, the police use excessive force, and the politicians are content to just let it all happen. Being himself is something Toland struggles with throughout this graphic novel, considering the violent consequences of his sexual preference. When he starts making friends with the black and gay communities, he eventually has to let his guard down and give into his individuality. That includes trying to have a painless breakup with his folk singer girlfriend Ginger.

What’s important to me about this graphic novel is how much it echoes today’s American society despite this piece of fiction taking place in the 1960’s. Racism and homophobia never went away. In fact, with Donald Trump as president and his bigoted rhetoric emboldening his supporters into doing heinous things to minorities, the hatefulness is alive and well. It always has been. Stuck Rubber Baby is a call for the world to come together and love each other despite the violent opposition. Hate begets more hate, but love conquers everything. It’s the acts of love Toland experiences from the true friends he has that eventually bring him out of the closet.

Another thing the reader will notice is the pacing of this book. Yes, graphic novels and comic books are usually easy to blow through in about five minutes or less, but that’s not the case with Stuck Rubber Baby. In fact, the pacing encourages the reader to slow down and really think about what’s being said. There’s quite a bit of important content to mull over whether it’s the acts of violence against minorities or the love and fellowship between those who need it the most. When someone dies in this book, you have no choice but to give a damn about it.

Speaking of people to give a damn about, this graphic novel is filled to the brim with characters the reader can root for. Of course, Toland Polk is the odds on favorite as we cheer for him to find the love and acceptance he deserves in the midst of all of this destruction. Ginger is a songstress that can bring out the butterflies in everyone’s tummies and the tears in their eyes. Sammy is as wild and free-spirited as they come, which is what makes seeing him angry and depressed a vicarious experience times ten. Harland Pepper is an endless well of wisdom when he encourages his fellow protesters to use peaceful tactics rather than incite more violence. There are plenty more characters that will tear your heartstrings out, even more so when some of them get beaten and murdered. The murders are frequent, but it’s not a case of darkness-induced apathy. Not in the least.

Stuck Rubber Baby is a wakeup call to the whole world when it comes to peace, love, and unity. Without those three things, history will repeat itself over and over again like it normally does. This graphic novel is sure to drag its readers kicking and screaming over to the left wing. If you’re already there, then you have even more power to change the world for the better. An extra credit grade goes to this beautifully written story with more powerful moments than I care to count.

The Golden Angel

The Golden Angel sat hunched over on a tree stump with a fiery look in his wild eyes. His bright yellow spandex, his dazzling angel wings, his flowing blond locks, they were part of an image that was all for nothing. He kicked a stone across the dirt into a nearby lake as he thought about what Pastor Jane had said over those airwaves. All of those homophobic slurs, every suggestion of violence, every invocation of hellfire and brimstone for the LGBT community, they caused his blood to boil like a witch’s cauldron. He kicked even more stones into the lake, every shot more aggressive than the last. Goldie even pounded the side of the stump with his fist and sat there in his grumpy state.

Normally the sounds of a woman screaming for help would send Goldie into an adrenaline fueled frenzy in an attempt to be the daring superhero he once was. With super strength and the power of flight, he could have won those fights in record time. But all he did was place a fist under his chin and stew angrily. The woman’s screams were more ear-piercing by the second and Goldie’s indifference turned to irritation. “What the hell’s going on around here?” he asked rhetorically.

Sure enough, a woman in gray sweatpants and a cyan hooded sweatshirt came screaming like hell as she leapt into the Golden Angel’s hulking arms. “Help me!” she cried. “He’s after me! The Dark Paladin is after me! He wants to give me his demon baby! Dear God, help me!”

Behind the drenched tears and bubbling snot of sorrow, Goldie recognized that face as clear as day: Mia Jane, the pastor’s twenty-something daughter. Same long black hair, same dimpled face, same gray eyes, and the same silver crucifix around her neck. Goldie glared at her before dumping her on the ground and causing her to crab walk backwards into another stump. “You’ve got some serious balls asking for my help, Miss Jane. Oh wait a minute, I forgot, women can’t have balls because that’s just an excuse to shower with little girls in the locker room. That is what your father said on the radio the other day, right?”

“Listen, Goldie, I’m begging you, please!” said Mia on her knees with her hands together prayer-style. “I’m sorry for everything my dad said about you and your…people. But you have to help me!”

“My people? What do I look like to you, a fucking alien?!” snapped Goldie as he shot up to his feet. “You think gay people like me are invaders from another planet? Oh wait a minute, they’re just Satan’s creations, which is something else your genius dad said.” He approached her with more muscle in his step. “You know what else he said? He was the one who outed me on national television! He’s the reason I’m hiding out here! What good is being a superhero if I can’t live in the fucking city where all the nasty shit is going on?! In fact, how do I even know The Dark Paladin is out here?! I didn’t hear him at all!”

“He’s here, Goldie. I saw him chase me. You have to believe me!” said Mia through a stream of tears not unlike the one rolling through the forest. “I was out here on my morning run and he flew right in front of me. He said he wanted to…” Her sentence was interrupted by an even bigger storm of tears.

Goldie’s furrowed eyebrows straightened when he knelt beside Mia and placed his pink gloved hand on her shoulder. “I desperately want to be a superhero again. But as long as your dad is spreading his ignorant bullshit around, nobody will let me in. The gay bar has been burned to the ground, transgender folks are being lynched, and I’m just another piece of this puzzle. If I wasn’t for my powers, I’d be a dead motherfucker by now. Just another footnote in Paulson City history. Just another body freezing at the morgue.”

“You’re more than that,” sobbed Mia. “You were an inspiration to us all. And now you’re just going to throw it all away because your feelings got hurt?”

Goldie’s hand slowly traveled up the back of her neck before he grabbed a handful of hair and snapped, “This is more than just emotions! People are dying! People are being beaten! They’re being tortured because of your father’s work! You’re damn right my feelings are hurt! But I bet you’ll be the quintessential tough bitch when it’s a member of your family that has to suffer through the torture!”

Trying to steady her chattering teeth from both the cold morning air and her sorrow, Mia said, “People are dying anyways because you’re out here doing nothing! You’re too good for them! Not everyone in the city is like my father!”

“But you are, Mia. I know you are,” whispered Goldie angrily. “You hang on his every word. You claim to be about love and honor while casting aside those who dare to be different, those who dare to be themselves. I’ve seen a million of your kind come and go, but I’d never thought you’d give up on your city’s only superhero just because you don’t like the fact that I fuck men!”

Mia’s brow furrowed as she smacked away Goldie’s clutch on her hair. “Who’s giving up on who?”

The two of them shared a moment of intense glares when the Golden Angel was blasted off his feet and into the creek, suffering a burn mark on his chest. Mia Jane screamed in horror once again and kept Goldie conscious long enough for him to pull his face out of the water to take in the view of The Dark Paladin. There he was with bulging red muscles, black metal armor, devilish horns, and yellow fangs dripping with the blood and flesh of a forest critter, potentially a squirrel.

“Miss Jane, I personally want to thank you for leading me to the Golden Angel. This couldn’t have been more perfect!” chuckled the Dark Paladin in a throaty voice.

Goldie glared evilly at Mia and whispered, “You bitch! This better not be true!”

“It’s not true! I would never do that! He’s lying!” yelled Mia. “I didn’t even know you were out here!”

“Bullshit!” roared Goldie as he leapt to his feet and took to the skies with his flapping angel wings. Every time Dark Paladin’s eyes radiated with red energy and he shot another scorching beam, Goldie would punch and kick them away like they were dodge balls. Having had enough of the demon’s laughter, the angel zoomed down upon him and threw heavy fists against his already contorted face.

Not one punch cracked bones or loosened teeth. “Is that the best you can do?” Darkie taunted. “Why don’t you try slapping me on the ass instead, lover boy?!” After throwing a mock kiss Goldie’s way, the superhero kneed Darkie in the balls and doubled him over, but only got another throaty laugh for his efforts. “Shouldn’t you take me out to dinner first?”

Dark Paladin attempted an ear clap, but Goldie ducted down and threw rapid fire punches against his stomach, each of them more powerful than the last, some of them cracking the metal armor, but not ribs like he intended. Goldie military pressed the Dark Paladin in the air and slammed him down against a gigantic stone, crumbling it into powder. The demon refused to sell his pain and instead gave a wicked grin.

“I’d say you fight like a sissy, but that’d be a little redundant, don’t you think?” said Darkie with a wink before throwing a knee against Goldie’s ribs and sending him rolling into the creek once more.

Mia Jane shouted, “No!” and ran by her would-be hero’s side. “Are you okay? Please be okay! I never wanted this to happen!”

“Get off of me!” shouted Goldie as he stood back up and attempted to dive bomb Darkie again with flying fists and feet. Instead all he got was a head butt to the skull upon landing. Dark Paladin grabbed the Golden Angel by his shin and twirled him so around so powerfully that the resulting whirlwind took Mia off her feet. Darkie slammed his nemesis against multiple trees and shattered them into beauty bark before tossing Goldie’s limp body on the ground, bloody and bruised.

Mia crab walked backwards in a shaky attempt to get away from the stalking Dark Paladin, who grunted at her, “Time to get my jollies, little lady! You’re giving birth to my child whether you want to or not! Don’t even bother going to one of those special clinics afterwards. Daddy dearest wouldn’t approve!” The last sentence was accentuated with a wink before the Dark Paladin dropped his metal pants and revealed not only his worm-infested meat, but also a familiar crucifix tattoo on his shin.

“D…Dad? Is that you? No…no, it can’t be! That’s impossible! You can’t be the Dark Paladin!” cried Mia while pounding the leaves on the ground with her fists.

“That’s right, honey! The Golden Angel ain’t going to help you this time! Not that he ever would, the little coward! Open wide, sweetheart!”

The Golden Angel’s vision was stained with blood and pieces of dirt, but he was conscious long enough to hear the entire conversation. It all made perfect sense to him now why Mia’s demonic father wanted to get rid of him. All the propaganda. All the lies. All the hate. Every one of the newly minted Dark Paladin’s dangerous words haunted Goldie’s mind like schizophrenic voices. Every time he said faggot, queer, or hell in the same sentence lit a hellish flame inside Goldie’s belly, a flame that burned brighter than the bloody pain he was feeling.

He watched Mia Jane crouch on the ground and close her legs as tightly as possible. He watched Dark Paladin’s rotten meat get harder and larger with every close step he took. The more Goldie watched, the more his heart was ready to explode in a volcanic burst. His eyes welled up with hot tears, his blood burned like acid, and his head pounded with a sledgehammer’s fury. He saw red for more reasons than Dark Paladin’s skin and the blood in his eyes.

In one swift motion ignorant of pain, Goldie flapped his wings and buzzed over to the Dark Paladin with a sharp stone in his hand. Before the demon knew what hit him, Goldie smashed the flat stone against Darkie’s groin and sliced off his monstrous genitals. Screaming agony and bloody fountains aside, no genitals meant no demonic birth, and no demonic birth meant the Dark Paladin’s plans for world conquest were ruined.

“You haven’t won shit, Golden Angel! I’ll see you in hell yet!” snarled the Dark Paladin before elbowing Goldie in the chest and sending him rolling backwards. With blood pumping out of the demon at a rapid rate, Darkie held his wound and flew away, dropping pus, maggots, and redness onto the ground below him. Mia Jane had been saved…for now.

The grateful preacher’s daughter, still bubbling with tears and snot, crawled quickly towards the downed Golden Angel and hugged him tightly, unintentionally aggravating his bloody wounds. “Thank you, Goldie! Thank you so much! I’m so sorry everything happened the way it did!”

Groaning painfully, Goldie wiped the blood off of his mouth and said, “Don’t be sorry, Mia. This isn’t over by a long shot. He’ll come back stronger than ever and we have to be ready.”

Mia gently stroked Goldie’s battered chest and said, “I’ll tell everyone the truth. The whole city will know who my father really is. I promise I will undo the damage he has done! This is not the loving priest I know! This is a monster!”

“You? You’re going to bring the people of Paulson City together? You’re going to end the hatred?!” scoffed Goldie. The two of them shared an intense stare together before the superhero said, “You’d better do it, Mia. You’re going to use your loudest voice possible. All that hellfire and brimstone crap? You’re going to use it to end this senselessness. You’re going to be the voice for positive change. You’re going to be the voice of the voiceless. Are you ready for that shit?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Goldie. Ready as I’ll ever be!” said Mia as she wiped the tears and snot from her face with her sweater sleeve.

Cemetery Gate

A vacation getaway at Stone Mountain was just what AJ Robbins and Eve Mills needed to clear their heads and recharge their batteries. For the lovely brunette Eve, kayaking down the river and hiking nature trails made her feel relaxed at the end of the day. AJ, on the other hand, always seemed jumpy at the possibility of wildlife, shivered at the thought of drowning in the river, and was winded from the long days of activity. When Eve snuggled under the covers at night in their rented cabin, she was smiling calmly. When AJ snuggled with her, he was shaky and nervous.

On the last night of their vacation, AJ was sitting at the fireplace of their cabin cooking juicy and tender steaks. It was the only time he seemed at peace with himself, the mindless activity, the warmth of the fire, and the smell of the oak.

But this was more than just a simple case of introversion vs. extroversion. Eve was watching her man from the comfort of the sofa. Judging from AJ’s nervous shaking and quick exhaustion, she knew something was bothering him. Before actually agreeing to this vacation, he was adamant about it being an alternative to going to their tenth annual high school reunion. He was keeping a secret deep down inside and Eve intended to flush it out.

The slender lady looked comfortably sexy in her navy blue college sweatpants, white T-shirt, and bare feet. She smiled her warmest smile as she approached AJ with the intention of massaging his shoulders. The minute those lovely hands touched down on his flannel shirt, the blond pony tailed boyfriend jumped nervously once again, his only means of quiet erased for the rest of the evening.

“Jesus, honey, don’t ever sneak up on me like that again. You almost made me drop the steaks into the fire,” said AJ. He was cooking them on a cast iron skillet that was suspended over the cracking flames.

“I’m sorry, dear. I was just trying to give you a back rub,” said Eve with her hand on her man’s shoulder. “This is supposed to be a vacation and yet here you are looking stressed out all the time. This is supposed to be your way out of going to our high school reunion.”

“I know what it’s supposed to be!” snapped AJ as he turned his head around and stood up shortly after. Eve was beginning to backpedal in slight fear. Her boyfriend then steadied his voice and said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

Knowing the apology was genuine, Eve held both of AJ’s hands in hers and looked lovingly into his icy blue eyes with a hint of concern. “You’ve been acting funny ever since we got here. You never acted this way before. Ever since I mentioned the possibility of us going to that reunion, you’ve become a completely different person.” Eve wrapped her affectionate, slender arms around AJ’s neck and asked, “Are you hiding something from me? If you have something to say, you need to say it.”

AJ sighed and brushed his girlfriend’s arms away before dejectedly saying, “Leave me alone.” and plopping down on the hemp cushioned sofa.

Eve folded her arms and said, “Actually, no, I’m not going to leave you alone. You know why? Because I love you and I don’t want any secrets to get in the way of our relationship. Come on, AJ, admit it. You are acting strangely.”

The boyfriend shrugged his shoulders and mouthed a few indecipherable words before saying, “I don’t want to talk about it. I really don’t. I’m sorry if that’s not the answer you want to hear, but some things should just be left alone.” He pointed at his own forehead and said, “You see this? This is a cemetery gate to all the things that go on in my brain. When you bring up bad memories, you’re committing grave robbery.”

“So you admit that there’s something bothering you right now,” said Eve Mills.

Once again, AJ Robbins shrugged his shoulders and tried to put together a sentence. He finally succeeded in doing so when he said, “What difference does it make? I mean, that shit was ten years ago! Ten years! You’re going to bring up things from ten years ago?! What are you, my fucking shrink?!”

“No, AJ, I’m your girlfriend. Sometimes I have to play the role of your mother, but most of the time, I’m your girlfriend. As such, if something’s wrong with my man, I need to take care of him and make sure he’s okay. I’m going to ask you this one more time, AJ: what’s going on here?”

AJ quickly stood up and stared daggers at his girlfriend as he made his way to the fireplace to check on the steaks. He used a metal spatula to put one on each plate and then delivered Eve her meal. “You hungry? Eat up.”

Eve stared daggers right back at her boyfriend. She took her steak off the plate and never broke eye contact as she trudged to the window and tossed it outside for the squirrels and rabbits of Stone Mountain. “Actually, AJ, no, I’m not hungry. In fact, I feel kind of sick to my stomach right now.” Her voice was getting progressively louder as she spoke. “I’m sick of the fact that I’m helpless to do anything for you because you won’t open up about what’s bothering you! This isn’t just a little annoyance we’re talking about here! This is something that’s affecting both of us! We came to Stone Mountain to have a good time and to relax! You clearly haven’t been able to do either and now you’re pretty much ruining our time together! So much for that five hundred dollar deposit!”

AJ threw his steak plate against the adjacent wall and watched the drippy piece of meat slime it’s way down the oak wood. Eve jumped backwards in fear against the sofa before AJ stood over her and made his announcement: “I’m gay.”

A deafening silence stood between them with AJ’s muscles tensing and Eve’s eyes getting teary eyed and her body shaking. After a while of sharing the only peace and quiet they could get together, AJ Robbins sat down on the sofa next to Eve Mills and said, “That’s what’s been bothering me all this time. I love you, Eve, but not in that way. I probably should have told you earlier, but…I just couldn’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to end this way.”

Eve’s tears started piling up in her eyes and she could do nothing but bury her face in her hands and sob away. AJ patted her on the back and said, “That’s right, Eve. Cry it all out. Get those tears out of your system. You know who else feels like crying right now? Me. I’ve been wanting to cry since I was eighteen years old and going to high school. But men aren’t allowed to cry, you see, because that makes us weak and that reinforces the “faggot” stereotype.”

Eve breathed heavily in and out as she was sobbing. She slowly lifted her face out of her hands and looked her boyfriend in the eyes. “A whole year, AJ. You let a whole year of our relationship go by without telling me this. Why? Why would you do this to me?”

“You know what? You’re right. You’re one hundred percent right,” said AJ sarcastically as he stood up and paced around the log cabin to make his emotional oratory. “If I had just advertised my sexuality a long time ago, none of this would have happened! Because that’s what gay people like me do: we go around advertising ourselves like common whores! That way, there will be no surprises after the football team beats the shit out of us and calls us faggots and queers! Or in my case, getting sodomized by the FUCKING CAPTAIN!!”

The outburst that oozed with sarcasm and anger brought an even more powerful flood of tears from Eve Mills’ eyes. “I’m sorry, AJ! I didn’t mean it like that! I just wanted to know what was going on with you!”

“Are you happy now? Are you happy to learn that not only is your boyfriend gay, but he also got raped in high school? Does that tickle your fancy? Does that butter your bread? Come on, Eve, pull your head from your ass! Not everything has to be black and white! But then again, I think that crucifix around your neck is cutting off the blood flow to your brain!”

Eve’s shirt was stained with a million teardrops and her heart was shattered like a pot of roses. She allowed her emotional silence to speak volumes about how hurt she was. But just when it looked like she didn’t know how to react, she stood up slowly and sluggishly approached her then-boyfriend. Her face was wet, her lips were pouting, and her nose was running. But just like old times, she held AJ’s hands in hers with so much tenderness.

“Listen to me, AJ,” said Eve in a soft and tender voice. “You are who you are and I am who I am. I know this will never work between us and I’m actually glad this all came out before we had the chance to marry. But…” She was taking heavy breaths of sorrow. “If we can just put aside everything for one minute, I have one last thing I want you to do for me and then we’ll go our separate ways. AJ? I want you to hug me as tight as you can. We don’t have to kiss. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I just want a hug. You probably wouldn’t like my dad given what you’ve said about my crucifix, but the one way he would always make me feel better was by hugging me. It felt so warm.”

“That’s all you want, Eve? A simple hug?” asked AJ in a soft voice.

“Yes, AJ, that’s all I want. I still do love you and I always will. But if this is goodbye, then I want my new life to start out the right way,” said Eve in a trembling voice. A moment of hesitation stood between them. And then there it was: the all-important embrace that felt warmer than any fireplace could. Eve’s tears were drying up quickly and AJ was able to feel peace once again. A hug. A simple hug was what concluded a year of misguided romance. And it was a simple hug that started things over again.

WWE Battleground: The Prime Time Players vs. The New Day

MATCH: The Prime Time Players (Titus O’Neil & Darren Young) vs. The New Day (Kofi Kingston & Big E with Xavier Woods lurking outside) for the WWE Tag Team Championship
PROMOTION: World Wrestling Entertainment
EVENT: Battleground
YEAR: 2015
RATING: TV-PG for violence
GRADE: Pass


Ever since its inception in 2013, the Battleground pay-per-view has been cursed with negative reviews for one reason or another. For two years in a row, the Wrestling Observer Newsletter has given Battleground the award for Worst Major Show of 2013 and 2014. The event in 2014 received a lot of bad press because of two candidates for that year’s Most Disgusting Promotional Tactic that year: Lana’s offensive promo about the Malaysia Airways plane going down in The Ukraine and WWE false advertising Seth Rollins vs. Dean Ambrose.

While I haven’t seen the entirety of 2015’s Battleground pay-per-view due to the WWE Network’s incompetence with Roku devices, I knew this year had to have a stacked card from top to bottom in order to break their two year curse with the WON, which is a respectable publication, by the way. When it comes to Battleground’s Tag Team Championship match between The Prime Time Players and The New Day, it’s not a bad start on breaking that curse. The buildup to this match was particularly exciting for both teams since they’ve gone through serious gimmick and alignment changes over the past year.

In the case of The New Day, the three members Big E, Kofi Kingston, and Xavier Woods were mid-card baby-face talents who were just hanging around and not really going anywhere with their careers. And then in late 2014, the three of them adopted a new gimmick of being overly positive black gospel preachers who clapped, danced, and smiled their way into every match. This was intended to be a baby-face gimmick, but the WWE Universe thought they were too much of a racist joke to be taken seriously, so all three members of The New Day eventually turned heel by cheating in their matches and insulting the crowd during their preaching promos.

While The New Day preached positivity, both members of The Prime Time Players practiced it. In 2013, Darren Young was the recipient of the Most Inspirational Wrestler of the Year award from Pro-Wrestling Illustrated due to him publicly coming out as a gay man. The best part about that? The WWE didn’t make a stereotypical gimmick out of Young’s sexuality; they just let him be himself. Titus O’Neil is inspirational in a lot of ways too. In 2015, he won the Celebrity Mega Dad of the Year award and later on in that year received national attention for taking a group of homeless people out to dinner just out of the kindness of his heart. At the Money in the Bank pay-per-view prior to Battleground, O’Neil and Young actually won the Tag Team Championship from The New Day to start this feud. The championship win marks O’Neil and Young’s first major title reign in WWE since debuting on the main roster in 2010. Five years of hard work lead to all of this: hell yeah, gentlemen. Hell yeah.

And now for the actual match itself. In one corner, you’ve got The Prime Time Players in the form of the mega-muscle Titus O’Neil and the aggressive athlete Darren Young. In the other corner, you’ve got The New Day, which consists of high-flying Kofi Kingston, ultra-powerful Big E, and though he’s not an official participant of this match, Xavier Woods will make his presence known by screaming at the desk announcers and interfering on behalf of his team.

From beginning to end, this tag team match was marked with unrelenting aggression and hard-hitting stiff moves. We as the audience got to see things like Darren Young back suplexing Xavier Woods on the edge of the ring (which is the hardest part of the whole structure), Big E giving a belly-to-belly suplex on the outside of the damn ring, all five members of the match getting tossed into the barricade, and of course, where would a New Day match be without the constant corner stomping and tagging combinations from that team in order to restart the referee’s five count?

Darren Young found himself on the wrong end of a lot of these moves and wasn’t able to get to his tag team partner for the longest time. But when Titus O’Neil was tagged in, oh damn, you’d better get off the tracks when that train is coming through. Titus clotheslined, booted, and shoulder tackled his way through The New Day and even slung Kofi Kingston around like the Ghanaian superstar was a small child.

Like I said before, this match was above all else hard-hitting. There was not a single move in this match that didn’t hurt or was badly botched. Even something as simple as a shoulder tackle from Titus O’Neil or a big splash from Big E would feel like getting hit by a transcontinental bus. Hell, Kofi Kingston had been taking abuse in his midsection throughout the match and Darren Young didn’t make matters any better when he gave Kingston the Gut Check, which is a double knee rib breaker. It got worse for Kingston when Titus finished the match with a thunderous pump handle slam to retain the WWE Tag Team Championship.

While I don’t have any idea how the Battleground pay-per-view fared in the eyes of the critics (mostly because I couldn’t watch the damn thing on my Roku), I do know that this match in particular deserves high praise, both for the buildup and for the ultra-violent performance itself. In fact, I’d even dare say that this match would go a long way in breaking the two-year curse that Battleground pay-per-view events have with the Wrestling Observer Newsletter.

Now that the brutally aggressive Prime Time Players are champions and more than willing to defend against anybody, the tag team division is wide open and goddamn there are a lot of teams. You’ve got a pair of wasteland barbarians in The Ascension, high-flying luchadors in The Lucha Dragons, high-flying matadors with a silly gimmick in Los Matadores, and The New Day is still hanging around, so don’t forget about them. Who’s going to step up and face the super-powerful and widely inspirational Prime Time Players? It’s going to take a lot to knock these two badasses off of their thrones. Then again, iron sharpens iron. The more teams they have to fight, the better they’ll become. I’m not against bringing up NXT tag teams to deal with these two warriors. You hear that, Buddy Murphy and Wesley Blake? Bring your A game, boys!

Cheryl Glenn

You’ve probably seen my posts for Devon Spirit Wolf and Constance Cable and are wondering why I have a fascination with female MMA referees. You’re already wondering if Cheryl Glenn will join the club and you’d be right in thinking so. Referees and females have something in common: they don’t get the respect and thanks they deserve for everything they do. If you’re a referee, you get criticized for every disagreeable decision you make. If you’re a woman, well, they’ll just call you things like “bitch” and “whore” while denying you the right to a safe abortion. I’d like to think of myself as someone who favors the underdogs of society.

Cheryl Glenn is somebody who is an underdog in a lot of ways. Aside from being a female MMA referee who only occasionally makes “bad” calls, she’s also in her early 50’s. She’s heard every sexist and ageist comment in the book. Since she actually is a grandmother, the sexist and ageist jokes come naturally for the ignorant masses. Mixed-martial arts is mostly watched by conservative males with a lot of energy and testosterone. If you think someone like Kim Winslow has a hard enough time being a female referee, then you can understand the plight of the fictional Cheryl Glenn as well. “Make me a sandwich, grandma!” Lovely. Just lovely.

But Mrs. Glenn isn’t one to back down from intimidation so easily. Aside from being a martial artist herself of many decades, she’s also been known to take away the ring announcer’s microphone and give the bigoted audience a piece of her mind.

Cheryl first made an appearance in a short story called “Dot Your Eyes”, where she was the referee for a lightweight main event between a gay fighter named Evan Rader and his homophobic opponent Heath Marks. Because Evan is openly gay, the audience thought it was funny to call him Evan Gay-der. Get it? Har-dee-har-har-har. My ribs are sore from forgetting to laugh. When Cheryl had her turn at the microphone, she told the audience if they didn’t stop chanting homophobic slurs, she was going to cancel the fight and declare it a No Contest due to audience distraction. They shut up pretty damn quickly after that.

Although “Dot Your Eyes” will never see the light of day due to its excessive vulgarity, there will be another time when Cheryl Glenn is used. When she has the microphone for another time, she’ll ask the lighting technicians to shine a spotlight on an certain audience member in the front row. She’ll give that audience member a speech similar to the one David Draiman from Disturbed gave at one of his concerts. It goes like this:

“Hi there! You obviously didn’t come here to watch the fights. You’ve been playing fucking videogames on your smart phone since the opening match. I’ll tell you what. Can you do me a favor? Because right now, to be honest, I can appreciate you not being a fan of the UFC. Hell, there are even times when the UFC pisses ME off. But right now, you’re being really disrespectful to the fighters who came here to perform for you. If you’d rather play videogames, then give up your seat to somebody who wants to watch the fights. So this is how this is going to work. If you want to be respectful, you can stay. If not, then security, if you see him take out his cell phone one more time, you have my permission to kick him the fuck out of here!”

It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman, young or old, gay or straight: Cheryl Glenn doesn’t fear you. She may be a grandmother and she may be a woman herself, but she’ll still kick your ass if you cross her. It could be a well-placed kick between the legs. It could be a judo hip toss a la Ronda Rousey. It could be five fingers of death right to your glass jaw. If you’re really curious as to how much of a grumpy grandma Cheryl can be, push her limits. She’ll not only push back, she’ll push your ass over.

　

***POLITICAL QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“War doesn’t determine who is right, only who is left.”

-Bertrand Russell-

Strangers Kissing

Let’s face it, people: we live in a world where the lines of communication are open (because of smart phones and the internet), but nobody talks to each other. I’m not proud to say I’m guilty of this myself. I have god knows how many friends on Face Book, yet I can’t be bothered to talk directly to them. Part of it is because of my own shyness. I can’t get passed these barriers between myself and my friends (and family) because I don’t know how to break them down. That’s why when I watched the “20 Strangers Kiss for the First Time” video, a part of me died and went to romantic heaven. Twenty strangers means ten random couples altogether, eight heterosexual couples, one lesbian couple, and one gay couple. I can’t put enough emphasis on the idea that these people were complete strangers to each other. Naturally, they were a little shy at first when asked to kiss each other. But kiss each other they did. Some of them were pecks on the lips, others were full-on tongue kisses. Any barriers these “couples” had between them were knocked over with authority. When somebody kisses you that passionately for seemingly no reason, it doesn’t take away from the fact that they’re giving you something worth having: trust. These strangers weren’t forced into doing this. I don’t even know if they were paid for being actors in this video. With a barrier between them and a camera capturing their tender moment, they gave each other their trust. A lot of trust. That trust was well-deserved too. None of these people would have agreed to kiss each other if the other person was a sociopath or a jerk. Even though they were complete strangers, they saw something in each other’s eyes that made them want to kiss. Again, they could have opted out of the movie and they didn’t. Just watch the video on You Tube if you haven’t already. It’s a beautiful experience and will restore your faith in a humanity tainted by violence, shallowness, and evil. The video is only a few minutes long, but that’ll be long enough to melt your heart like a stick of butter. It’ll even make you want to be a part of this video. And while you’re feeling these emotions of vicarious romance, if you have any interest in preserving them, don’t read the comments underneath the video. Among the ignorant remarks include homophobic slurs toward the gay couple, accusations of the actors being hipsters, suggestions that it’s somehow fake, etc. You have to remember that You Tubers, while sometimes entertaining, are not always the sharpest bulbs in the drawer. Or is it the brightest knives? Aw, fuck, here we go again. Anyways, just go to You Tube and type “Strangers Kissing” in the search engine. It’ll make you jealous, but it’ll also break your heart. Maybe there will be a few tears in your eyes, you never know.

　

***FACE BOOK MEME OF THE DAY***

“You can’t jack off to lesbian porn hours a day and then say you’re against gay marriage.”

-Being Liberal-

Mean Businesses

It seems as though every time someone enters a job that involves celebrity status of some kind, there’s always somebody telling them that whatever they’re getting into is a “mean business”. I can understand why someone would say those words about MMA, wrestling, or any other athletic activity: there’s a lot of testosterone flying around and raging criticism is bound to happen. But why exactly would something like literature or movies be considered “mean businesses”? Let’s be honest: it doesn’t take a whole lot of hateful aggression to read a book or to watch a movie. I’ll tell you where the term “mean business” comes from. It comes from the idea that just because we live in a democratic society, it automatically grants us the right to be a verbal bully. In America, that right is documented under the first amendment of the constitution. Freedom of speech is good to have, but when the mediums we love turn into “mean businesses”, that’s when things get out of control quickly. If you need proof, just watch an episode of TMZ. They’re always getting a chuckle out of a celebrity being too fat for her bikini or saying something slightly off-color. If you need further proof, look no further than the Sunday morning newspaper, where a critic will rip a book to shreds in more ways than one. When did it become acceptable to be spiteful people? I will admit that I get caught up in the moment as well when it comes to joining the “mean business” politics. In fact, I’ve been very vocal against the Republican Party for their role in the current government shutdown going on. It’s well documented that I receive disability payments and food stamps due to my schizophrenia and autism. What everyone here may not know is that my mother works for the Environmental Protection Agency and is the biggest source of income my immediate family has. Naturally, I was furious with the Republicans, but only because lives are on the line during a government shutdown. I don’t really see how someone writing an awful book constitutes the right to be an asshole about it. I wasn’t a big fan of “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”, but I would never under any circumstances dance on Stiegg Larsson’s grave because of it. The first amendment has way too much room for abuse. Isn’t that right, Fred Phelps? All I’m asking from the celebrity sphere is, can we all just calm the fuck down for the first time in our lives? I’m not saying you have to wear yoga pants and yell out “Namaste” every time somebody passes you on the streets. I’m just saying that killing a Twilight fan for being of the wrong side of the Jacob-Edward spectrum is a TAD bit extreme.

　

***JOKE OF THE DAY***

Q: What do you call two gay Vikings?

A: Leif partners.

"Napalm and Silly Putty" by George Carlin

George Carlin had a career that spanned multiple decades of giggles and guffaws. And now you can have the best of his routines in one single book. It’s called “Napalm and Silly Putty” and reveals the dual nature in which he thrived. The napalm represents his destructive, dark, and violent side, while silly putty represents his giggly and joyful side. Put them together and you’ve got the makings of Mr. George Carlin. This book was published in 2001. Think of all the comedy routines you’ve heard before that time and jam them into this well-written book. You’ve got his jabs against pro-lifers, his love for entropy, his reasons why certain sports shouldn’t be considered as such, his hatred for euphemistic language, and many others that not only provoke thought, but also garner hyena cackling. And then you’ve got some routines and short takes that weren’t previously in his material, my favorite out of all of the unknowns being the death wishes section. If you’re feeling really suicidal, walk through Harlem dressed in a KKK robe or go to a cult sacrifice with a crucifix and a priest collar around your neck. Not only will you have more bruises on your body than hairs on your head, but you might actually pass on to the afterlife. And then you have those short takes that he bursts into every once and a while. “An art thief is someone who takes pictures”. Think about that one for a moment. Remember his routine about not giving a shit if the pandas fuck again this year? That’s in there too. He’d have to include that one, because really, can you actually get a hard-on while some loser in a green shirt is taking your girlfriend’s rectal temperature? Leave these creatures alone! Of course, a George Carlin book wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t have a list of war statistics. You know, the number of times we’ve had “enhanced interrogations”, “terrorist attacks”, “beheadings”, and “counter-insurgencies”. There are no real stories in this book. It’s basically a compilation of his greatest routines. If you’re looking for a structured story, check out “Last Words”. But if you’re in the mood for achy ribs and a crooked spine from laughing so hard, buy this book today.

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Catholics and other Christians are against abortion and they’re against homosexuals. Well, who has less abortions than homosexuals?! Leave these fucking people alone for Christ’s sake! Here’s an entire population of people guaranteed never to have an abortion! And the Catholics and Christians are just tossing them aside! You’d think they’d make natural allies!”

-George Carlin-