Glee is a Gala of Gaydom, promising to take viewers to a magical kingdom of butterfly sunshine and singing happiness, but is really just a sad storm of musical numbers drenched with the uncomfortable clamminess of homosexuality.
In a day and age where gay agenda supporters rabidly demand a right to adopt children and get married, we find this show fits a larger movement to introduce the American household to homosexual themes and lifestyles.
For every one gay, four children get molested. These scary statistics further reveal why the gay agenda violently blows against the grain of society, trying to buckle the moral umbrella our Christian tradition and our American values have long held over children, shielding their bodies from the relentless showers of seminal perversions.
Gays will huff and puff, then violently demand every child thinks it is okay to play piggly wiggly with them.
It is no surprise that even morally questionable bands like Kings of Leon have found disgust with Glee. The KoL band recently refused homosexuality and child exploitation by refusing to let one of their songs “air” on Glee and instantly, they felt the sassy, cold wrath of a furious gay.
Sashaying in calculated anger and flailing arms faster than lisping lips, an angry Ryan Murphy reportedly hissed, ““F*ck you, Kings of Leon, self centred assholes”.
Such seething fury is typical of gays who do not get their way. Much like a temperamental two-year-old surrounded by candy and toys in the store, gays want what they cannot necessarily have. And when we as society scold them, telling them they cannot feast upon our children and indulge in the joys of marriage, they angrily stamp their feet, cry and maybe even strip off their anal diapers to expose their bared contempt to the world.
Much like children, gays are also manipulative and will concoct the most nefarious plots to normalize their agenda. Enter Glee.
Are high school students to believe that a healthy part of pre- matriculation is sneaking into leather daddy bars for lunch, where bear-chested men will ply you with alcohol until you’re willing to play Pistolwhip Pete on the frontiers of gluteal horrors, all before Advanced Economics 101?
If you have allowed your child to watch Glee, this is exactly what they think. Song after song is innuendo laced, with boys and girls mixing saliva and sweat with grown men and women. Gender is not an object on the show, for the laws of nature are bent over backward and sodomized by the wildest meth-laced cacophony of homosexual symphonies and moans that break the harmonic backbone of childhood innocence and decency.
Young boys are the primary target demographic of Glee. Instead of running lead with the football team or trying to court young ladies to socials, young men are being converted into limp-wrist belly dancers. The conquering moment of Glee last year was with Mexican actor Mario Lopez.
During the 1990s, there was a show named Saved By The Bell. It was filled with childish antics and Clinton-era perversion, but still decent enough for the older,discerning child to view.
On this show, AC Slater was the school’s “jock”, a muscle-bound lad whose taut body, dimples and corporate smile glistened on and off the field. Slater was the son of a Mexican immigrant, who atoned for his genetic sins and origins by joining the US military. Cleared of his father’s sins, Slater was able to become prominent in the high school. He befriended Zach Morris, the gold ‘every boy’ and found his way into American lifestyle and popularity with athleticism and good streaks of morality. He was not perfect, but was a character to who many immigrant-children could relate and learn that even they could make their way in our great society.
With all of this in mind, imagine the symbolism of taking this strong character — AC Slater — and using him as a weapon to destroy the minds and morality of many young men, especially Mexican-Americans still trying to fit into America’s stable definitions of fatherhood and masculine responsibility.
After the Glee episode now only referred to us the “Minstrel Mariachi” (a writer’s latent play on menstrual mariachi), we saw the definition of 90s machismo, AC Slater, reduced to a homsexual’s nightjollies about children.
Dressed like a Gothic sugar plum, corset copping a grip upon his turgid masculinity, only released by the laced ruffles of untied panties and garter stockings, this vision of homosexual fantasy ripped into the eye holes of millions of males nationwide. They saw the football jock had become the bedroom sock for gay fantasies. This forced many young men and even their fathers to question their sexuality.
If AC Slater could reject the likes of Lisa Turtle, Jessie “The Stripper” Spano and Kelli Kapowski for a little gay jingle and dance, is there something truly appealing to giving homosexuality a little test drive?
This is all the gay agenda and its advocates want. They want everyone to just try a ‘hit and run’ of homosexuality, so that in secret shame the bizarre thoughts and unforgettable images can creep deeper and deeper into the hippocampus of of their minds.
If your daughter watches Glee, do not think she is free from the show’s agenda. Do not forget the first true television lesbian was Ellen DeGeneres and true to their foremother of clamdabbled broadcasting, this show remains loyal in recruiting for the Licking Legion of Degenerates, the daughters of Ellenesque perversions.
The look of an empty soul and confusion falls upon the blonde student’s face, as her loins gyrate to the rhythm of Satan’s heartbeat, his browsweat lubricating a combustible desire that churns deep within her.
The mechanisms of lesbianism and gay homosexuality run hot in modern media and Satan will do all he can to keep his tractor engines running strong, reaping row after row of our nation’s dwindling crop of decent children.
The Homogay Agenda stands hand-in-hand with the defiant defilers of nature: atheists, evolution scientists, liberal mixers and non-meat eaters. Who can be really surprised to find Satan and his liberal farmers of marijuana and homosexuality all have the same agenda: addict the children to gateway drugs.
Gays dream of the day every girl is a vaggiterian, one who only feasts at the buffet table of lesbianism. They will be happy when little Johnny finds erotica in trying to get to the tootsie roll center of Mr. Owl and every other man who “Hoo hoos!” with the sight of a child consuming a simple lollipop.
Friends, we must band together to remind all of our kids that homosexuality is a lick on a stick, that is surely guaranteed to make you sick. It only leads to a lifetime of deadly viruses that not only destroy the physical immune system, but the spiritual one as well. Just as the body cannot fight off infections when afflicted by the Gay Virus, a person can never fight off Satan when gay, because a spiritual body cannot twinkle-toe its way to heaven’s garrisons of conservatism. A gay person can never be Christian and their soul will lay in the spiritual infirmary ward, festering with gay bowel diseases and mental handicaps until it is finally released into the fire ovens of hell.
Dear parents, open your heart and realize that Glee is a gateway drug to homosexuality. Do not fall into the trap of letting the pied piper of homosexuality emanate from your television shows at home, long musical numbers luring your kids into a bath-time of lava and excrement experimentation.
It sounds like a rough, fiery mixture for a reason. The fibers of homosexuality are lined with drug raves and a mucky quagmire of fecal tarpits, ensnaring any causal passerby into a filthy, screaming fate of lube-filled lungs and sulfur suffocation. Homosexuality causes 68% of all who observed it to drown in adulterous betrayal to their true gender roles.
CPR is only performed on the shores of hell, where Baywatch Satan revives the lungs with his fiery breath and the victim realizes his fate of boobtitted, voluptuous demons demonwhacking kinkle spittles of searing sparks all over the doomed’s dairy mister meiser. We’re talking about butt rogering here, readers, and it is the agenda of Glee.
There is nothing merry about the melodies of this sick show. There is nothing funny about addiction or death, so let us close the curtains on this show by turning of the tv and shutting down its ratings.