There is a horrible gay magazine called The Advocate and every year, they host a “Sexiest Gay of the Year” contest. I sign up with many others and protest it. They hold the judging grounds and awards in Georgia, and I have my Morality Booth setup to pass out pamphlets why these little homomarinated meatbags will all sear on Satan’s grill for eternity! But they are glib.
They saunter and sashay, rubbing each other in sexual ways as if that is normal, and continue on to their little award show. Well, this year was the raunchiest of all. It was swine pork in the mud filth. I wish I even had some Iraqi Paki terrorists with me, so they could help cast stones and it would be PC liberal correct!
I just wish this was 400 years ago, because I could do so legally and find 10o other townspeople to join to throw rocks until the enemy lays rigor with sin!
This is stage footage taken from “The Advocate”. It is stage footage from one of the sideshows at the awards. It is a gay ‘twinkie’ flavored with bacon savorings, according to the article caption.
It is all sick and you can only imagine why gays are mouth watering over this picture. They know normal men like bacon, which always excites them. Gays love children but if there is a second helping they can have on the side, it’s men who are not gay who tickle their hunger pinch. It makes gays crave to have their backside blistered or worse twaddle their dairy violator in the chocolate factory if you get my drift. Sin homos!
But the thing that takes the cake here is that they also announced the Sexiest Gay of the Year. Gays vote by gay genre and then an overall gay. The genres were all just too confusing and bizaree in classification, but the winner of them all is a very scary looking mountain man and looks like the hillbilly from Deliverance. Gays are not cultured like us and they are backwoods idiots, maybe that’s why they like to play woodcutter man so much in the backside.
Alejandro, The Compassionate Furry Seeking Gay – One Genre Award Winner Crowned by The Advocate
One would think that things could not get much worse than a Mexican with a tight body, sitting in a ruffled spread of delicate bedsheets, petting a kitty cougar over his satan scepter sinspout, but it does. There is a gay named Joe My God and he’s apparently the sexiest gay of the year.
Leather Bike Bear Tops them All
According to the article, The Leather Bike Bear is a genre of gay who is a masochist. This indicates this Joe character may be a dominatrix, like a Russian woman spy in a movie. Dressed in the deepest blacks and short hair made shorter by vast quantities of impossibly expensive hair lube of fruity scents, the masculinity of this domineering gay is spiced by cologne on the turgid, hairy brawn of the chest and jugular of the beefy neck. These types of gays are also called ‘beefcake’, as it looks like they grew up on a farm and are tough.
Make not mistake though, the only toughness they want in life is making the glute muscles quiver in shame when they enter their sin thrusts on their ‘partners’. So it is no surprise that so many girly gays scream at this Joe boy and calling him ‘their God’. Rest assured that God’s belly churns and is sickened by every mention of this sacrilege leather daddy who calls himself God and ruler.
Every day, Joe writes homosexual erotica that masquerades as journalism, on his website joemygod.com. The very name of the site is smeared in the fecality of homosexual sins, so it is no surprise that it is putridly offensive the to sensibilities of the normal folks of America.
In his younger days, the fag rag magazine journal opines, Joe opted for a bare chested ‘barrel roller’ look. Barrel roller is apparently the name of homosexuals who like to ‘roll’ their barrel in a circular pattern in their partner’s rear. It is sick and raunchy, but that’s what they say. The Advocate continues:
Hulking with the most lurid abdominal walls imaginable, the firm suprapubic region of Joe gleens in a manner of raised, straightline curves that makes your mouth drool when you think of where that crotch line leads on this fine American vehicle. It is pure steel, baby.
With a stomach of a belly dancer, the captivating musclature of Joe My God even makes a bottom yearn to be a top, if only to see the video of Joe’s firm finish give way to the thrusts of a pulsating phallus jousting its way to a glorious display of regal ecstasy. This Game of Thrones should bring a firm bone to any man who lays eyes upon it.
Now that he’s an elder gay, Joe is still delicious homo goulash. He’s dilectable in every way possible and the marinade of his cream sauce is something that can be thrown into flavor every savory Italian mix.
This year we are proud to announce that based on his LGBT writings that convince college children that hey, gay is okay and they should experiment, and his sultry good biker daddy looks with gray handlebars and brawny bosom, we induct Joe My God into the Sexiest Gay of the Year hall of fame. Congrats, Joe. Come get your award from the judges.
As you can imagine, after reading this tripe and then seeing all the homohuffer tokers going to this event, I could only jump up and down and stamp my feet in rage. How can this be allowed in this society, for these intestine dwellers to be able to write so freely and give out awards at disease pride shows.
Listen up, I got my booth and every one of you who laid eyes on it, you saw my message. You were warned so when you die and go to heaven to be judged by God and St. Peter says “Guilty Gay!” don’t try to say you were not warned. I warned all of you. You will die and roast in a ghoulash homo gumbo stew and Chef Satan will say “Bam!” like Emeril Lagasse when he throws in more lava stone to spice you up!
For Satan, sexiest gay of the year means the most juicy and well marinated. Have fun roasting in the stews of hell, homomeat!