Tongue-In-Cheek … Foot-In-Mouth

I’m not crazy about people who are always busy telling other people what to do and what not to do. My mother is always telling me “I am too skinny, and I need to eat something.” And even though every time I go to my parent’s house and I eat enough spaghetti and meatballs to choke the entire cast of the Sopranos, it is not enough, because I am still too skinny, and she will not be happy until I eventually explode at the kitchen table. But I love my mother, because she is brandishing a rolling pin, and because she reads my columns, and because she remembers how to get to my house.

Anyway, I also don’t like people who make it their mission to judge other people, unless they don’t live in glass houses, and who doesn’t. My conservative/libertarian beliefs want EVERYONE to leave EVERYONE else alone. And if you go to my website www.billedrury.com and click on the picture of me saluting the American Flag, this will take you to my presidential points (I introduce a new one each Friday) specifically point number 10 which reads: “Leave homosexuals alone. If they want to get married then let them. Life is tough enough, and if you can find someone who you love and who loves you, great. A person can marry a potted petunia for all I care.”

Look, like it or not, same gender get-togethers are taking place at every level of society, even in the sporting world, right on the playing fields. Take for instance the recent Olympic Games, and specifically Men’s Synchronized 10-Meter Platform Diving.

Men’s Synchronized 10-Meter Platform Diving is basically a gay porn movie filmed in a pool setting, whereby a bunch of very slim very similar looking men are clad in spray-painted-on swimsuits, which leave less to the imagination than their actual birthday suits, and none of them, not a one has any body hair, whatsoever. I find this lack of body hair very interesting, because you would think that at least one of them would have some body hair. Humans without ANY body hair are hard to find, and here we have a whole flock of them. However, then there is always the possibility that maybe they do have body hair and they are purposely removing it, which is also very interesting. Look, I get the whole shaving down thing for swimmers, because they are attempting to reduce friction while they move along in the water. But why do you need less friction when you dive? If you are traveling straight down at some 40 MPH, isn’t that fast enough? And just how much less friction can you obtain by sitting around shaving your buddy’s legs? And why do these divers need to be taking cluster showers together and gently rubbing each other’s backs? I think I saw this once in a gladiator movie. I didn’t rent the movie or anything. I was channel surfing and just happened across it. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. But, anyway, I think I read somewhere about these group back massages helping to keep the divers warm. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m thinking if they are cold, perhaps they could wrap themselves in towels, or perhaps the Olympic Committee could spring for a couple of parkas.

And I don’t mean any of that in a bad way. But I’m just saying.

Let’s switch now to a more prevalent American pastime: Professional Wrestling. Now, this is a manly sport, baby, but this too has gender get-together overtones—a bunch of big rugged guys beating the ever-loving crap out of each other. Some have body hair and some don’t, but they are hitting each other, which makes shaving each other’s backs more manly, kind-a. And they sweat a lot, which is very manly, and this perspiring is because they are involved in severe physical fighting and pretending to punch each other in the faces. Okay, so lots of times they are not actually wrestling but more engaged in violently hugging each other in the center of the steel cage, but they are hugging each other in a strangle-hold type of way.

And I don’t mean any of that in a bad way. But I’m just saying.

How about Wrist Wrestling. Now, this is a killer sport—two hairy men, sweating, gnashing their teeth, veins sticking out of their foreheads in a Herman Munster-like fashion, their faces inches apart, all done with the intention to snap the other’s arm like a twig. Okay, so in order to tear the other’s arm off, they have to be holding each other’s hands. But it’s sort of cute, in a hairy, sweaty, arm-breaking sort of way.

And I don’t mean any of that in a bad way. But I’m just saying.

Then there is Rugby. This is the sport of sports, basically football without padding. Yup, a group of hairy, sweaty, guys killing each other over a foot ball. And sometime during the game, for no apparent reason, play stops, and they get into a massive group hug, and wonder around in a semicircle grunting.

And I don’t mean any of that in a bad way. But I’m just saying.

Finally, for this column, there’s the “sweat science sport” of Boxing. And once again, we find ourselves cheering for two guys, some shaved down, some not, both sweating, attempting to beat the bagezzus out of each other; however, several times during rounds, they can be seen hugging up against the ropes, sometimes holding each other’s necks, and it is not uncommon for the occasional “punch below the belt” to be thrown.

And I don’t mean any of that in a bad way. But I’m just saying.

Remember my loyal readers, whatever your viewpoint is on the same gender get-together issue: don’t judge people lest you be judged. I think I heard that said in another gladiator movie I just happened to click across.