From No Homo to Full Homo

Last weekend I was flying back home from Miami. I was sitting behind two middle aged women who were reminiscing about their sexy times on the beach and "in da club" when suddenly they were interrupted by quite a disturbing sight. Two men (who they assumed were, as they put, "playing for the other team") asked them for directions to their seat. After the men walked away, the women turned around to look at me, quite rattled, and confessed, "girl, I have two boys and you better believe I be prayin' every night that they ain't windin' up like dat. Oh girl, I pray." I guess they didn't get the news, but the Boy Scouts are kind of okay with the whole gay thing now... and if it's good enough for the Boy Scouts then it sure as HELL should be good enough for the rest of us.

Recently, The Boy Scouts (Cub? Eagle? Whatever the fuck you call these shit dicks) have decided to possibly revoke their blanket "no homo" policy. Boy Scouts everywhere seem to have been forced into the 21st century. An action that has most likely left most of them feeling scared, disenfranchised... and a little gay.

http://tv.msnbc.com/2013/05/26/boy-scouts-should-be-better-prepared-for-change/

The Boy Scouts of America have always fancied themselves the straightest motherfuckers on the planet. Their "no gay" policy is understandable, of course. The first rule of being a straight male is that there should be absolutely NO homosexuals present during the weekly circle jerk. Come on now, that would be just plain gay.

But now, now they can't even beat their meat in the peace and privacy of their fellow scouts. It's like nothing is sacred anymore. After a long day of camping and tying knots, (or whatever it is that these Boy Scouts supposedly do) all a dude really wants to do is wack it with his bros, but

...now he's gotta worry about gayness.

Being a former Girl Scout myself, I personally have always been biased against the Boy Scouts. From Daisy, to Brownie, to Junior Girl Scout, I worked my way up. I paid my dues bitches, or rather, my parents gave me the money to pay them. I worked my ass off for those badges. I sang to old bitches, served poor people food and even camped in the wild (well, in the Holiday Inn). During our camping trip, we learned some valuable survival methods. While the Boy Scouts were learning how to speak to animals in the wild, how to suck a dick, how to survive in the woods with just a whoopee cushion and climb trees, (again, not entirely sure about what they do exactly) we had bigger fish to fry. We learned how to order room service, file our nails and straighten our hair. A girl needs to learn how to get by in the world using only her looks, someone else's credit card and her vagina, of course. Duh.

Now I must mention the cookies. Oh my fucking god, do NOT even get me started on the cookies.

Okay, you got me started.

Now, I am a diligent business woman and like any good business woman should, I took to the mean streets of Westchester. With nothing but a cookie menu and a dream, I ventured door to door with my mom. A shrewd Girl Scout always did two things during cookie selling season: looked cute and lied out of her ass. Hey, it doesn't kill ya to throw on a little Lip smacker and squirt a little Limited Too body mist. Who wants to buy cookies from an ugly, smelly, little Girl Scout?

Answer: nobody. In short, play it safe and just try your best to look like a baby prostitute. Also, lying, is always a plus. As far as I was concerned, Thin Mints are diet cookies.

"They have negative calories... sort of like celery. You should be interested in that kind of thing."

I also, falsely informed every buyer that all of our profits went to animal shelters that care for sick and abandoned puppies. As you can see, I would have stopped at nothing to get the first place prize. The Girl Scout who sold over 500 cookies won a stuffed animal. Stakes were high, and winner took all.

Long story short, I never won the stuffed animal...or even the shitty second place prize (which was a keychain). I never really got over my loss. I never was able to really forgive myself for not coming through for all of those imaginary abandoned puppies. Ashamed, I laid my Girl Scout Sash to rest. I can not eat a Samoa cookie to this day without tasting defeat.

At the end of the day this rivalry of Boy Versus Girl Scouts can actually be settled rather simply. Boy Scout popcorn is no where near as delicious as Girl Scout cookies. This is an undeniable fact and anyone who tries to say otherwise is disgusting and selfish. And above all, they are are ignorant.

On the subject of ignorance, let me go back to the story I opened this post with. These two women who have been praying for heterosexual sons have been wasting their time. They need a lesson or two from yours truly. Pray for more important things, dammit. For example: pray that Doritos will make their 3-D chips again (fuckin' delicious), pray that Ashlee Simpson will make another album that is poignant as her first or, EVEN BETTER, pray that Justin Timberlake will let you blow him for just a few minutes (just the tip, JT? Please? The balls? Something?)

Or if you really want to pray for something worthwhile, maybe ask that one day our children will grow up in a world where there are no "other teams." Or perhaps, a world where a person does not find it appropriate to tell a complete stranger that they disapprove of someone because of who they fuck, as if it is assumed that there is some sort of camaraderie between us because we are both female and like the dick. Because, truth be told, from where I am standing, the two of us could not be more opposite.

Also, how the fuck do you know I do not like eating the puss?

We all know what happens when you assume.

To the Boy Scouts of America: in the words of my girl and singing sensation Jojo: it's just too little, too late, a little too wrong, and I can't wait.

Conclusion: your shit is weak, I can tie a knot better than all of you numb nuts and you're ignorant.

BYEEEEEEEEE.

XOXO,
Jules