My issue with me

My issue with me

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So I was planning on writing more about all the issues…all the crises…all the grave concerns that dominate our world right now. 

But first, I have a question:

Does anybody else feel a little gay when they eat a banana? 

Or am I some sort of yellowfied-homophobic-fruit-hating-phallically-obsessed-wack-job?

Is it just me, or do other men feel that eating a banana is half a step away from the forbidden pleasures of anal delight?

I swear to God, every time I'm eating a banana and I'm standing in the kitchen, or sitting at my desk, or hiding behind the bushes at the catholic girls high school, I'm waiting for someone to walk up to me and say, "Hi. How's the banana? And are you aware that a homo is standing really close to your ass?"

I dunno. Is it just me? 

I've never really talked to anyone about it. And um, I'm not sure that I should.

"Hey Brent, did you see that Gerard Warren hit on Brunnell? How great was that! Hey, uh, by the way, when you eat a banana, do you feel like you're smoking dick?"

This is not exactly the kind of conversation you look forward to having with another man. Especially if you're the only one who knows what the hell you're talking about.

Because if you start to ask somebody if they feel like they're gay when they eat a banana, and they don't feel like they're gay when they're eating a banana, they're gonna look at you and think you're gay because you're asking them if they think they're gay when they're eating a banana.

Even though you're not. You just feel like you are. 

Or is it just me? 

But I mean, come on. Look at the friggin' thing.

Tell me that one of Dole's finest doesn't looks exactly like a honkin' yellow woody. With a peel.

How can you hold a banana firmly in your hand…grab the top…peel it open, and then put it in your mouth and not feel a little uncomfortable?

I can't. I don't.

How can you stand in front of a group of guys, open your mouth nice and wide, and stick that yellow shlong right in there?

"Hey guys, check this out. Remind you of anything?"

How can you stand in front of a group of women, open your mouth nice and wide, and stick that lemon-colored one-eyed worm right in there?

"Hey honey, doesn't this look exactly like last night?"

I dunno. Is it just me? 

Y'know, I've never seen gay porn. And I pray to the dear lord in heaven above that I never do. But I have reason to believe it looks a lot like me eating a banana.

Except for the throwing away the outer skin part. Which would hurt a lot.

And the me being in the gay porn movie part. Which would hurt a lot worse.

I dunno. Is it just me? 

Don't get me wrong. It's not like I take a bite out of a banana and say, "I love Will and Grace!"

It's not like I take a bite out of a banana and say, "It's here! I've been waiting so long for the soundtrack to Oklahoma!"

It's not like I take a bite out of a banana and say, "Does this dress make me look fat?"

No no no. It's not like that at all.

It's more like I take a bite out of a banana and, at that exact moment, I kinda feel like how Mr. Brady must have felt when he was hugging Mrs. Brady. 

And then Greg walked by.

Of course, every time I'm eating a banana and I have these horribly inappropriate sordid homosexual thoughts, I feel the need to suppress them immediately with some sort of verbal confirmation of my masculinity. 

Typically, this consists of something along the lines of, "Hey, check out the ass on that chick over there."

Which, in case you're wondering, is a really bad thing to say while your wife is standing there.

I dunno. Maybe it's just me. 

Even when another guy is eating a banana, I try not to look. 

Because if there's one thing worse than feeling kinda gay while you eat a banana, it's kinda watching another guy eating a banana. 

Which, if you ask me, leaves the "kinda gay" category and immediately plunges into the "elbows on the table…NOW!" category.

I dunno. Maybe it's me. 

I realize that the solution to this whole problem, of course, is to stop eating bananas.

The only problem with that solution to this problem is that I like bananas.

If I hated them, it would be a hell of a lot easier to get over. I'd just eat strawberries. Or apples. Or grapes. Or those little purple plums.

On second thought, scratch that plum thing. The seeds look too much like testicles.

Not that I've ever seen testicles. I'm just assuming that's what testicles look like based upon years of scientific research. And scratching my balls.

Yes, unfortunately, I've been blessed with the banana-loving gene.

And no matter how I try to rationalize it, there's no escaping this one simple truth: a banana looks like a dick. And no matter how much I try to deny that it does, when I put a banana in my mouth, I feel like I've got a dick in my mouth.

Even worse, I feel like I've got a dick in my mouth and I'm biting it.

I dunno. Is it just me? 

When I eat a banana now, I try to do everything and anything I can think of to not make the act seem as blatantly gay as it makes me feel.

I now try and break off smaller pieces of the banana so I don't have to make the motion of opening my mouth and leaning my head towards this edible erection.

You know the motion.

But sometimes I forget.

And there I'll be, standing in the middle of somewhere, surrounded by people…I'll peel the freakin' thing, and ram half of the goddamn banana down my throat when suddenly, I'll stop.

"Jesus Christ," I'll think, "Somebody's going to stick a dick in my ass any second now."

Please, please don't misunderstand me. I have nothing against the gay community. I sincerely respect anyone and everyone's sexual preferences. And if a man has chosen to pursue other men's groinal regions for fun and pleasure, I have no problem with it.

All I ask is that you keep your banana away from me.

Honestly, I have nothing against the gay lifestyle. This is not about them. It's about my paranoia. I really hope no one takes this the wrong way. Because the last thing I want to do right now is come across sounding like an ass.

Although I suppose it's better to sound like an ass than to have something rammed in it. 

Repeatedly. By someone with hairy knuckles.

I dunno. Maybe it's just me. 

I'm sure you've heard the old joke where a woman looks at a man and says: 

"Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" 

This joke is most often used in a situation where a man sees an attractive woman and is incapable of hiding the excitement that started with his eyes, bypassed the central portion of his body, and proceeded directly to his penis.

At which point the woman makes this statement because she's not only clearly looking at his crotch, she's also remarkably forward.

You know, the kind of woman I've never met.

I thought you should know that I'm planning on approaching the Old Joke Council of American and suggesting a slight revision to the line. 

My suggestion goes something like this: 

"Hey, is that a banana in your mouth or are you just a fag?"

I dunno. Maybe I'm way over-thinking this thing.

Maybe I need to get a life and worry about something more relevant.

Maybe I need to write about what I was originally going to write about.

Something that can offer hope and promise to a world filled with anger, confusion and frustration.

Something people can get behind and support with all their heart.

Something inspirational that can spread across all races, all socio-economic classes, and all religions.

But before I do that, would you mind if I asked you a question about cucumbers?

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