And this is why I don’t spend much time on Facebook:


Facebook Censorship

Mohammed and Fuck Facebook


Getting in that Mood Again

Sometimes, I feel like my reputation precedes me, because someone is angry at me as soon as I say, “Hello,” and my bandanna is not that ugly. This feeling is like:

When the mood close to homeย isn’t as copacetic as the average mental health expert would like, I go hiking in a different neighborhood. Well … last week I went to Feathers for a change. There was some creep in the parking lot who mentioned Route 4, and that got me feeling like I should visit my usual parking spot where the meter maids know me. When I returned, a Bergen County police officer was waiting at the train station near Feathers. She and I had a long talk. But that’s besides the point. One of the meter maids was a bit flirtatious as I was ready to get back into my car. I looked him up and down and thought, “He’s hot, but I cannot afford the time or money for a hotel room this week, and my boyfriend is already angry at me.” I ignored his offer.

The thing is, many African-American men feel the need to express their same-sex attractions in a less than straightforward way, because there is still a significant stigma surrounding LGBT life in minority communities. It’s like the boy who puts peanut butter in a girl’s hair, because he does not have the social skills to ask her on a date properly. The loudest homophobe is often tongue-tied when given an opportunity for the type of mutually enjoyable romantic evening that he keeps daydreaming about. Closeted relationships are difficult on both parties. For his own sake, and the sake of his partners, I hope that young man takes comfort in the latest academic research.ย Until he comes to terms with his feelings, he can interpret the following pic from an old hippy newspaper however he wants:


Speaking of partial incels breaking social norms, I woke up early this morning feeling lonely, because the haters made life so difficult for me and my boyfriend over the past few years that we’re now forced to live very far apart. That’s when I did something that some people wished I did not do:


As my car was parked in it’s usual parking spot, I noticed the cockroaches in that municipality. I asked a couple of townies for more information, and they said that the entire city has suffered from cockroaches and rats for the past few years. It probably has something to do with the food people leave in the street. I had the radio on while driving back to Bergen County. It mentioned a man in his 20’s who was found deceased in the Fair Lawn home of a Giants player. The Bergen County Prosecutor’s office is looking into the matter. The news got me so distracted, that I bought the wrong thing for breakfast and had to return to my usual parking spot to see if anyone wanted it so that it would not go to waste. While I was there, someone spilled blue paint on the graffiti that was on the road near the parking spot to mark those two blocks as a gang run micronation. By the time I returned that afternoon, there were blue footprints and tire marks all over the red, green, and black graffiti. The meter maid wearing green and sporting a beard asked me for a cigarette, which confused me, because if I remember Middle Eastern LGBT etiquette correctly, they guy who wants a taste asks for a cigarette, and he did not look Ecuadorian, but I digress. The current color scheme got me thinking … the road already had yellow lines on it, the graffiti had red and green, and the blue from today means that it is only missing purple and orange. Once someone accidentally stencils purple and orange images on that road surface, the micronation will be marked by a rainbow color scheme. This can be the first step in making it the most sparkling drug den in all of New Jersey.

It just goes to show the law of unintended consequences. It’s like when Malka Red wanted to protest the objectification of women in rap videos by making her feminist response,ย Boy Booty, only to discover that it made her an icon among the LGBT community. Being LGBT isn’t always about crying over wedding cake or driving the drug dealers crazy. Sometimes, it’s about enjoying sex. So, hey, if that’s what you’re into, I won’t judge.

The Importance of Protesting

So … I took a spur of the moment trip to Israel this year, and by the end of my first ื™ื•ื ืจืฉื•ืŸ, I got banned from the Temple Mount. Now, for the rest of my life, I can tell people, “It’s OK. I’ve been banned from a better place than this.” It was really just a misunderstanding between me and the Jordanian religious police that maintain decorum there. I went up the ramp to the gate for Jews on the Temple Mount wearing a T-shirt and shorts. A similar outfit cause no objection at the Western Wall a couple of days earlier, but religious Muslim men consider my legs sexy in a way the religious Jewish men do not notice. The Jordanian religious police wanted me to wear a green skirt to cover up my sexy legs, but green is not my color, I normally only cross-dress if I’m on a date with someone I really like, and those guys were not my type.

I told the Jordanian religious police that I would buy one of those dresses made for the local men and come back in it to accommodate their customs. It was difficult to find a shop open in the Muslim Quarter of the Old City on a Ramadan morning, but I eventually found one merchant willing to charge me way too much for a traditional outfit that I wore for a return trip to the Temple Mount. After all, soldiers in my father’s generation made a huge sacrifice to liberate the Temple Mount. How could I balk at spending 2 days worth of net income to get access to it.

The Jordanian religious police did not recognize me when I came back in the outfit. I’ve been told plenty of times while performing naked online that I look Arab, but their enthusiasm at seeing me in traditional Arab clothing is more proof of our shared DNA. I thought they were happy to see me in the new outfit, but they thought they were looking at a Muslim who had tricked the Jews into letting him walk through the Jewish gate. They asked me where I was from, and I told them “New York City”. Then I looked them in the eye and explained that they should not take my refusal to wear the green dress personally, because I’ve got an Algerian friend in Paris who kept asking me last year to wear something red and lacy for him to no avail. I stick to the Blue Shirt Haredi colors. Then I left them speechless with a sentence about how I understand why they thought my legs were too sexy to be visible near all those religious Muslim men.

Well … as I was wondering around the Temple Mount, some of the other Jordanian religious police thought it was odd for a Muslim to not know where he was going. They asked my religion, and I told them I was Jewish as I pulled out my necklace with a Star of David on it. Between their poor English and my lack of Arabic, they gave up on communicate the rules (which I was happy to follow) and sent me to the Israeli guard. The Israeli guard waved me off the Temple Mount for questioning. As my side of the story came out, Jews and Arabs agreed that I payed way too much for the outfit and I should not return to the Temple Mount. So, I was off to enjoy the rest of my day.

As the week progressed, I found a gay bar where a man from Ecuador saw me dancing happily alone and did what men from Ecuador do. He was on his knees sucking my dick before I could say, “No, thank you.” Two glasses of wine in one night is too much for me, and the dance floor was not the best place for that to happen. Anyway, I walked him back to his hotel room in the Muslim Quarter of the old city, but I needed to sit down for a moment when I felt light headed. That’s when a bunch of teens passed us shouting, “Sharmota”. He ran off and I shrugged off the incident. Then I was stuck walking back to my hotel room alone. Uggg. Now I owe my boyfriend a nice gift. It’s like he’s the pimp for all these random whores who throw themselves at me. Fame has it’s disadvantages. Talk about your walk of shame. Anyway …ย  later, I bought a rainbow flag at the LGBT center in Jerusalem and went to the archaeological park at the base of the Temple Mount.

… by the time I flew back to America, the King of Jordan decides to replace his Prime Minister.ย (ู‡ู‡ู‡ู‡ู‡ู‡ู‡ู‡ู‡ู‡ู‡ู‡)

These events highlight the importance of protesting. I can sympathize with the young man who took over the stage at Eurovision in May, even if his action was a bit rash. The young lady singing had rights too. It was rude to interrupt her. Oh the other hand, there’s a reason the Quakers streaked during Puritan masses in colonial Massachusetts. Puritan values were the excuse for burning little old ladies accused of witchcraft. Nelson Mandela became an international hero despite his violent activities. Some of the UK lads facing prison for much less deserve the type of support he got. Europe has its share of cultural figures who paid with their lives for expressing unpopular views. It’s too late to bring them back, but a campaign to free the content producers currently imprisoned for publishing content is a good idea.

Luckily for freedom fighters everywhere, the UK has plenty of embassies and consulates where people can protest. In less than a year, Eurovision will be in Israel where there are numerous significant sites for freedom fighters to protest in defense of 1st Amendment rights. Any readers interested in making these things happen can spread the word and get the ball rolling.