Lucas Lascivious

Foe of moderation, champion of excess

Month: February, 2014

The Seven Gayest Anti-Gay Members of Congress

It’s no secret that politicians are duplicitous. It goes along with the job for most part. But when it comes to the issue of gay equality, no party’s members have been quite so intolerant and sanctimonious as Republicans, particularly in the way of conservatives. Yet it seems there’s never more than a few months that go by that we don’t hear about some “family values” conservative getting caught foot tapping in a men’s room or hiring rent boys for hotel room trysts. Among members of Congress, these are the seven “straight” candidates who I believe would be most likely to either come out on their own or be caught trying to pay a guy to stuff a ball gag in their mouth and burn them with a cigarette for 100 bucks (because freaky Republicans are still fiscal conservatives).

Aaron Schock
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Why not start with the easiest target, right? The gay rumors are nothing new for Aaron Schock, given they’ve followed him his entire political career, dating back to 2004. It’s easy to look at him and aesthetically assume that because he’s well-groomed and good-looking he must be gay. As flattering a stereotype as that may be, time and time again, he’s done nothing to disprove the rumors, all the while managing to maintain a resounding zero percent rating on the HRC’s scale of gay-friendly elected officials. It’s sort of ironic, given he seemingly lacks the ability to articulate his own opposition to gay equality.

David Vitter
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Ah, David Vitter. Here’s a man who’s spoken out in favor of abstinence-only education (“…saving sex until marriage and remaining faithful afterwards is the best choice for health and happiness”), opposed amending the 2010 Defense Appropriations bill to better protect victims of sexual assault and rape at the hands of federal military contractors, and has proposed that the U.S. Constitution be amended to ban same-sex marriage (“I’m a conservative who opposes radically redefining marriage, the most important social institution in human history”). It all sounds like typical hardline conservative bullshit, until you take into consideration that, as he was saying all of this, he was a client of Deborah Jeane Palfrey’s, better known as the D.C. Madam. This is an instance of “the lady doth protest too much me thinks,” combined with hazy morals and blatant hypocrisy. There’s a thin line between cheating on your wife, abandoning your own oft-trumpeted religious beliefs, and hiring hookers, and giving handy j’s behind a dumpster in Tenleytown.

Jeff Flake
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In this instance, when I say he’s pretty gay, I mean it in a completely complimentary sense. While, yes, like a lot of his Republican counterparts, he’s voted to Constitutionally ban same-sex marriage, he’s not as bad (which really doesn’t speak volumes), given he voted to prohibit job discrimination based on sexual orientation, and was one of a handful of Republican Senators who rapidly and publicly shunned Arizona’s discriminatory SB1062 bill, and asked it be vetoed. By congressional standards, he’s far and away one of the more handsome Senators and, most importantly, ripped:

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Yes ma’am.

Michele Bachmann
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I know what you’re thinking. “But Lucas, she’s notoriously anti-gay and has the highest rate of LGBT youth suicides in the country within her district, which she refused to publicly condemn or even speak about. She’s not anti-gayly gay, she’s just unabashedly anti-gay.” While that may be true, let’s be honest: the girl looks good, albeit a bit deranged in the eyes. You don’t get hair and makeup like that unless there’s a gay somewhere on your team, and I’m not just talking about her closet case of a husband. While we’re on that subject, though, you’ve got to applaud her dedication to being a top-notch beard. She’s deluded herself so much that the notion her husband is a flaming homo has never even crossed her mind, making her the only person to lay claim to that distinct feat.

James Lankford
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James Lankford has an abhorrent voting record when it comes to civil liberties in general and, as far as I can tell, seems to only be in politics to make money off of voting in lobbyists’ favor, but elsewhere, I’m not sure if it’s just the tinges of gay-face he’s giving or the fact that I want him to be gay to feed into my ginge fetish.

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…okay, it’s just the former. Those gelled bangs scream “repressed Midwestern homosexual.” At least his wife/lavender marriage companion is pretty.

Duncan D. Hunter
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Upon first glance, he reeks of douche. Then you read through his voting record and he is confirmed to be a douche. He’s noted for his military service, but based on his execrable stances on gay equality, he strikes me as one of those military bros who, in public, keeps the façade of a homophobic asshole going, but in private trolls Grindr for power bottoms he can call “faggot” during sex. Anyone as staunchly opposed to everything gay as he is makes me question if there’s something deeper going on there…and I’m not just talking about anal sex.

Jack Kingston
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Between Saxby Chambliss and Johnny Isakson, it’s apparent that Georgia is awful at choosing U.S. Senators, which is why it should come as a surprise to no one that Jack Kingston stands a fair shot at taking over the Senate seat Chambliss will be vacating in 2014. When he’s not telling poor schoolchildren that they should sweep floors in order to be fed a school lunch while subsequently racking up tens of thousands of dollars in personal taxpayer-funded expenses and advocating against taxpayer health subsidies while himself receiving taxpayer health subsidies, he’s diligently working to maintain his zero percent HRC score. However, what sets off my gaydar is that I can’t look at him without being reminded of Uncle Arthur from “Bewitched”.
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I hate to even sully Paul Lynde’s good, booze-soaked name by comparing him to a puritanical, hypocritical bigot, but they even sound similar. If Jack Kingston weren’t a humorless homophobe, I’d fully expect a sexual double entendre at the end of each of his floor speeches.

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Twitter’s #prayforcameron Hashtag Has Decimated My Optimism for Gen Z

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In between episodes of season two of House of Cards (side note: how brilliant is this season?), I took a break to check my social media accounts. While on Twitter, I noticed the hashtag #prayforcameron. Hashtags asking for prayer requests aren’t really abnormal on Twitter and generally I’ll click on them to see if I’ve missed something worthwhile in the news. I fully expected this Cameron person to be a cancer-stricken child or murdered civilian who had been politically martyred by the media as a representation of civil unrest in a foreign country.

The reality: he’s an Internet “celebrity” who cut his foot while filming a video. I’m being serious. Mind you, this wasn’t some minor blip on the list of the U.S.’s trending topics, it was number two:

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You may notice that ‘Venezuela’ also happens to be a trending topic. Well, most certainly, whatever happens to be going on in Venezuela can’t be nearly as important as an Internet figure’s lacerated foot, can it? Not unless you consider protests against massive inflation in Venezuela that has subsequently resulted in skyrocketing crime rates and widespread food shortages–a simplified version of a much more complex political labyrinth–to be more dire than a foot injury.

Generation Y is defined as including people born between the early 1980s and early 2000s, though I’d argue that that’s both far too broad a range of people and that it should only include those born up until the mid-90s, while Generation Z encompasses people born between the late 1990s and mid-2000s. Both groups have been stereotyped as being self-involved, narcissistic young people with a pervasive Peter Pan complex, but that image holds far truer in the case of Gen Z.

It’s easy to say that Gen Z is at a disadvantage because they’re being brought up in a world where lackluster formal education is the norm, superficiality being valued over intellect is at an all-time high, and the witless media is ubiquitous, but realistically, they’re at an advantage in terms of their access to information. The real problem lies in their lack of a want to expand their minds and understanding of the world. It’s true that the American media is notorious for whitewashing and diluting the news, particularly when it pertains to international matters, but if there is a desire to open yourself to the realities and goings-on in the world, you easily can. The Internet is infinite and practically as instinctive to Gen Z as breathing. However, if there’s no will to venture outside of what’s comfortable, people won’t.

Therein lies the problem: there’s no aspiration to self-educate or be more mindful and cerebrally vigilant.

That’s why a photo of a foot gash like this:

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Gets more attention than an image like this, of a woman who died after she was shot in the head during the Venezuelan protests:

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The unfortunate irony between the two photos is that they both highlight societal frivolity concerning human aesthetic. Strangers care about Cameron Dallas because he happens to be a generically attractive person, while the bottom photo has arguably been the most extensively shared because Génesis Carmona happened to be a Venezuelan beauty queen. The headline ‘Venezuelan beauty queen killed’ piques more interest and garners more readership because it concerns a good-looking, glamorous person.

To be clear, this isn’t an attack on Cameron Dallas himself; I don’t know him personally (nor do 99.9 percent of his 1.16 million Twitter followers), but he seems like a nice kid. It’s also not my saying people aren’t allowed their mindless vices, which would be highly hypocritical on my part. What I am denouncing is contentedness with being uninformed. Willful ignorance is not only a self-detriment, but it stunts human progression as a whole. Amelioration will never be the result of knowing less.

The Seven Stages of a Seven-Day Cleanse

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As I’ve gotten older and can no longer put my body through the hell I could when I was 21, I’ve come to rely on juice cleanses. Usually after a particularly boozy, debauched weekend, I’ll go on a one or two day juice cleanse as a quick fix, but I’ve started making a seven-day juice cleanse a part of my monthly routine, just to flush out all of my bodily toxins and for physical rejuvenation. Downing blended fruits and vegetables for a few days sounds simple enough, but the reality is that it can be painstaking, not only to stick to the diet, but also to refrain from slapping the first person who gives you a dubiously shifty look (or at least what you perceive to be one in your malnourished state of mind). What I’ve found is that during any week-long juice cleanse, you’ll inevitably find yourself going through seven different phases.

Day One: Optimism
As with any diet, the first day is the easiest. You’re in a rose-colored haze and looking forward to seeing the results of your hard work. You’ve got your juice-comprised “meals” mapped out for the day, you’re in a chipper mood at the prospect of feeling healthier, and, to top it all off, you’ll drop a few pounds in the process.

Day Two: Coasting
Your idealistic assuredness is still in tact, though mild hunger pangs may begin to set it.

Day Three: Bitterness
The first two days were easy, but you’ve now reached the point where even seeing the people around you eating elicits an innate scowl. “Look at these people with their solid foods,” you’ll bitingly think to yourself. Alas, with the prospect of a lustrated and slimmer body, you press on.

Day Four: Temptation
Now you’ve hit a plateau and suddenly your body is channeling Oprah at the Texas state fair, where everything slathered in butter and deep-fried sounds delicious. But, you reason, the entire reason for the cleanse is to purge your body of unhealthy outside provisions and you’ve already made it this far, so you may as well keep at it.

Day Five: White-Knuckling It
Imagine you’re a heroin addict who’s been forced into detox after years of heavy use. Now envision what day five of withdrawal is like for them. Further conceptualize what resisting heroin would be like for them if they couldn’t drive more than a mile or two without seeing visually enticing establishments with drive-throughs where they could conveniently purchase and indulge in their vice. That’s what it’s going to be like every time you drive past a fast food restaurant. Resist!

Day Six: The Final Stretch
By now you’ve regained your senses and stopped breaking into a cold sweat at the sight of a heating bin full of 7-Eleven Taquitos, food (I use that term loosely) usually reserved for the drunkest and most THC-laden among us. A few more liquid meals and you’re done–solids are within sight.

Day Seven: Success!
You’ve accomplished your goal! You feel a sense of elation you mustered through it, feel better internally, and have the external results to show for it. Now if you can just limit yourself to be an alcoholic shitshow maybe three days a week instead of all seven (by far the hardest part for me) and keep yourself on a decent diet, you’ll find that not only will your unforgiving hangovers be a thing of the past, but you’ll feel better overall.

Why Kylie is (and Will Always Be) Queen

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When examining Kylie Minogue’s popularity, it’s really easy to simplify her excellence by deeming her “the fucking queen,” but in today’s world, it seems pop stars are as disposable as Sarah Palin’s political career. Few pop singers last more than a few years before fading into either mediocrity or altogether obscurity, and the ones who do last are persistently fighting to stay relevant and subject to excessive criticism. Whether it’s Beyoncé being labeled anti-feminist or Britney’s oft-demeaned lackluster vocals, the biggest so-called “divas” in the music business aren’t immune to the acerbity.

Except for, that is, Kylie Minogue.

Don’t get me wrong, Kylie has experienced her fair share of criticism, but the critical pervasiveness between her and her contemporaries isn’t comparable. It’s easy enough to explain away her likeability: she’s gorgeous, amiable, and makes fantastically catchy music. That being said, those are qualities found in other big-name, mainstream pop artists as well: Lady Gaga, Christina Aguilera, Kelly Clarkson, Rihanna, Mariah Carey, etc. So what is it that seemingly makes Kylie immune to the same sorts of criticisms that these other women experience? She’s loved by men and women ranging from homos to feminists.

I think that, as with someone like Madonna, part of Kylie’s longevity has been due to her ever-morphing image; each album brings about a new era. Unlike Madonna, however, Kylie as a person has never changed. While Madonna’s progression has brought us a faux-British accent, grill, and overall aura of pretension, Kylie has never strayed from the personality that made her such a likeable public figure to begin with. Of course she’s matured in age (flawlessly so) over the years, but her cultivation hasn’t resulted in a complete loss of sense of self, as has been the case with certain other iconic musical figures.

From the beginning, Kylie’s been consciously headstrong and decisive concerning her musical career. Initially, she went the prepackaged pop star route of the 80s, but it didn’t take long for Kylie to make others realize that she was not that girl. She couldn’t just be gussied up and packaged as a pedestrian sex symbol, à la Madonna–she actually had conviction, musically and in terms of her image.

That sentiment made itself present in her third album, Rhythm of Love. It produced the infamous gay anthem “Better the Devil You Know”, but more importantly marked the transition between what was expected of Kylie by her record company and what Kylie expected of herself, which was a desire for self-artistry.

Kylie released Rhythm of Love, as well as her prior two albums, under the PWL label before transferring to Deconstruction and eventually Parlophone. From a musical standpoint, Parlophone has been where she flourished. The label has unofficially garnered a reputation for allowing for creativity among its artists, particularly in terms of its most notable and profitable artist: Kylie.

Outside of her musical genius, though, Kylie’s managed to fine-craft an image that spans a singular classification. She’s not just a pop artist, she’s a cultural figure. Her status as a pop singer would stereotypically reap aspersion, but she’s somehow managed to supersede classification, and, as such, ignominy.

The feminist argument that’s been lodged against Beyoncé and the like isn’t applicable, because Kylie has never induced herself as being one-half of a man, nor has she ever sexually pandered specifically to a straight, male audience like her counterparts; rather than using her sexuality to her advantage, she embraces her sexuality. The lack of vocal excellence isn’t applicable, as is the case with Britney, and she doesn’t have to be vocally acrobatic like Christina, because she’s proven she has the vocal chops (see: “Your Disco Needs You” live). Her longevity hasn’t driven her to desperation, like Madonna. She has nothing to prove, other than the fact that she’s perpetually paradisiacal.

Oh, did I mention she also beat cancer?

That is why Kylie is and will always be the Queen of Pop.

Five Acceptable (and Unacceptable) Gifts for Single People This Valentine’s Day

Let’s be honest: Valentine’s Day is kind of annoying, single or not. If you’re in a relationship, you have to buy gifts, go out to dinner, put out, etc. If you’re single, you have to listen to all of your taken friends counting down the days until February 14 and blustering on about their big plans (read: Olive Garden, a bottle of André, and de rigueur copulation). However, I think it’s about time single people start using Valentine’s Day as a holiday to congratulate ourselves for not being in a relationship. Therefore, I’ve compiled a handy gift registry of viable gifts you can either gift to yourself or to your fellow single friends as we celebrate freedom from metaphorical romantic bondage, and laud the fact we’re free agents who still get to have fun and fuck whomever we want…which may, ironically, include some literal bondage.

Acceptable Gift: Booze
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Booze is a holiday staple. What better day to get loaded than Valentine’s Day? Not only is booze acceptable in celebrating your highest of highs and providing companionship in your lowest of lows, it’s liquid tolerance for when we have to hear all about peoples’ stupid Valentine’s Day plans, not only leading up to the day, but inevitably for days afterwards too. Realistically, it should be your non-single friends buying you booze, because it’s often the only thing preventing us from slapping the shit out of them. (Note: pharmaceuticals are an acceptable substitution.)

Unacceptable Gift: A Snuggie. Snuggies are a gateway to Pajama Jeans and before you know it you’re being featured on an episode of Hoarders.

Acceptable Gift: A Ryan Gosling body pillow
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Outside of the convenience of not having to be smothered by someone trying to cuddle with you or having to share your bed with another person, this body pillow allows you to tell people you slept with Ryan Gosling and/or humped his face without technically being a liar.

Unacceptable Gift: This ridiculous “kissing pillow.” It’s intended to improve your kissing skills, which in itself is creepy, but is made much worse when you realize it’s basically just a pillow with a built-in Fleshlight.

Acceptable Gift: Any chick flick where scorned lovers get revenge
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Whether you’re single by choice or not, it’s nice to have a refresher to remind you exactly why it is you’re not dating. What better way to do that than to see sassy, empowered females seeking retribution by fucking over their conniving exes and coming out on top in the end? Don’t invest in anything too heavy, though, because, as aforementioned, there’s a high probability you’ll be soaked in enough booze to warrant staying 20 feet away from any open flame, so your mind will only be able to handle films that fall somewhere within the Cameron Diaz-Reese Witherspoon spectrum of comprehension.

Unacceptable Gift: Any Tyler Perry film, because Tyler Perry

Acceptable Gift: Sex
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Ah, the joys of singledom. It means never feeling an obligation to have sex with anyone, which makes sex with casual partners so much more enjoyable. While your taken friends are busy going through the motions of a romantic evening, we singles are afforded the ability to skip past all of that bullshit and get straight to what matters: fucking. I will forgo tossed salads and doggy bags at a chain restaurant for salad tossing and doggy style in a sex swing any day.

Unacceptable Gift: STDs. Bragging about your wild Valentine’s Day sex is pointless if you end up at the free clinic with a bout of gonorrhea.

Acceptable: This 2014 calendar featuring nice, Jewish guys
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It never hurts to set goals for yourself. L’chayim!

Unacceptable Gift: Anything emblazoned with cats

The Most Hilarious Stories (and Lies) My Mom Has Ever Told Me

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She once got my grandmother sued.
In high school, my mother was so pissed that she got a B from her Home Economics teacher that she took her baking soda and vinegar “volcano” from her Science class, and purposely put it in her Home Economics teacher’s car with the intention of just being an annoyance, not knowing it would eventually get so hot in the car that it would explode. Suffice to say, it basically ruined the entire interior, so my grandmother ended up being threatened with a lawsuit (they settled out of court) and my mother was expelled.

Sinfulness makes Jesus cry.
Whenever I was unruly and it happened to be raining, my mother told me that the rain was actually God’s way of being sad because I’d sinned somewhere along the way. I’m sure she meant no harm by the notion and it was mostly just a way to get me to shut up, but I went on for years wondering what it was I’d done wrong to make God cry. That sort of burden will fuck you up.

She eloped with my father.
In Panama City, of all places. I’ve always wanted to just sporadically elope with someone for the hell of it. In retrospect, I’m sure she realizes as well as I do that being married and having a child at 19 wasn’t the best idea. However, at least she picked a sperm donor (my dad) that just happened to have a huge dick. Genetically, I see myself in both. My mother’s side has provided me with a proficient metabolism and symmetrical face, while my father’s side has pretty much been the catalyst for my carefree attitude, binge drinking, and carnality.

Boys don’t dance.
When I was younger, I used to go to church Wednesdays and Sundays with what I consider to be my second family, only on Wednesdays my friend and I would have to sit through his sister’s ballet classes. On the inside, I desperately wanted to be the dancers I kept seeing every week. Eventually, one of the instructors asked me if I wanted to be a male dancer for the company, because the singular male dancer they had at the time wasn’t sufficient. I literally wailed and begged and pleaded for my mother to let me join, but my tantrum wasn’t enough to convince her that boys do dance.

Diarrhea.
My mother has the unfortunate task of teaching prekindergarten children, meaning she not only has to deal with illiterate little people all day, but also has to sometimes cope with their lack of housetraining. The most pertinent example of that I can think of is one story she told me where this boy in her class was sitting so silenty that it raised suspicion. When she asked what was wrong, it was made clear he’d just shat his pants. I honestly feel for the kid, because it’s embarrassing to shit yourself anywhere, but this kid somehow managed to subtly take major dumps all over the classroom. Once the smell finally caught up to his squatting, anywhere he could find to privately defecate, my mother was tasked with finding (fortunately, she didn’t have to clean it herself; janitors are highly underrated members of society). The worst part of the ordeal was that the entire beanbag pavilion was soaked in shit and needed to be sanitized.

Six “Dream” Destinations That Look Like Anxiety-Ridden Nightmares

As someone with a heavy interest in traveling, I spend a lot of time examining other cultures and subliminally plotting future travel locations, which has led me to find some truly incredible places that aren’t cliché tourist traps. That being said, in a cruel twist of irony, I also happen to have severe anxiety. I mean, usually two or three glasses of wine is enough to curb it to brace me for social interaction, but some places I’ve seen are enough in pictures alone to make me feel like I need a Xanax or six. That in mind, here are six supposed “dream” destinations that are actually my tribulation.

1. Conrad Maldives Rangali Island Resort, Maldives
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The bad news about this hotel: you’re trapped in what amounts to an underwater coffin with god knows how much atmospheric pressure bearing down on you. But at least you get to wake up to a fucking whale shark staring you in the face, right? The good news: they have over 20,000 different bottles of wine, which is convenient, given that’s what it would take to make me even consider stepping foot in this place.

2. Kolarbyn Eco Lodge, Sweden
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You’re probably looking at this thinking, “It looks like a hut built into a mound of dirt, but surely the inside looks better than the outside.” Sorry to break it to you, but the inside isn’t any better. Do you know what this place would do to me in terms of my claustrophobia? First of all, if I inhaled fresh air, I would probably suffocate from the purity of it. Secondly, forgive me if I don’t want to pay to sleep like a gopher or an extreme survivalist for a night.

3. First World Hotel, Malaysia
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This place has 6,000 rooms, 500,000 square feet of indoor theme parks, shopping centers, food courts, a casino, and that’s not even what leaves me teetering on the verge of a panic attack. Too. Many. Colors. Christ, it’s like an LSD dreamland, sans the LSD. Compound that with the fact it doubles as an amusement park and I’m already reaching for my imaginary inhaler.

4. The Aurora Express, Alaska, USA
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A part of me has admittedly always wanted to go on a proper train ride, which, at first, may make you think I’d find a train ride across Alaska appealing, but let’s look at it pragmatically: it’s days on end stuck inside of a train with nothing to look at other than snow and trees. After the first two hours of snow, shrubs, and saplings, I’d be either going stir crazy or cleaning the bar out in an effort to retain my sanity.

5. Hotel Parador de Ronda, Spain
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If I saw this hotel alone, I’d think, “Oh, that place looks quaint.” However, pan out and my initial acclaim becomes, “HOLY FUCK, I THINK I JUST LOST CONTROL OF MY BOWELS.” The fact the hotel is described as “a stone’s throw away from the beautiful chasm” is really just a polite way of saying, “You’re only ever a few steps away from plummeting to your death!”

6. Huvafen Fushi Resort, Maldives
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Upon first glance, this looks like a completely tranquil, idealistic vacation spot. While that may be the case with most people, in my mind, I think back to the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and subsequent tsunami. Could you imagine if a random natural disaster happened here? You’d basically just have to throw your hands up and wait to be swept out to sea, if you didn’t drown before you had the chance to be ravaged by sharks.

Stereotyping the Sochi Olympics

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There are a lot of things wrong with the Sochi Olympics, a fact that’s been well-publicized. From the get-go Russia came under fire for their notorious “gay propaganda” law, but as the Olympics inched closer, corruption, shady business dealings, and shoddy accommodations further marred the Games. Russia was even incapable of getting through the opening ceremony without glitches. Without a doubt, though, it’s been Russia’s human rights violations against gays that have received the most attention.

Throughout the Olympics so far, people have been commenting about how ironic Russia’s anti-gay laws are, given the Olympics are pretty “gay” as a whole. The Canadian Institute of Diversity and Inclusion even made what admittedly is a pretty hilarious video parodying the entire thing. Peoples’ analyses are obviously intended to be in good fun, but doesn’t it seem that the real irony lies in the fact people are condemning anti-gay rhetoric by using gay stereotypes?

By saying the Olympics are “gay,” the notion that’s being implied is that gays can be characterized by a love of bright colors, shiny things, flamboyant outfits, etc. That’s not to say that gays can’t be a campy bunch, but by pigeonholing them into what essentially amounts to a gay caricature, what’s happening is the very idea that’s trying to be dispelled and the cartoonish image many Russians have of gay people are being compounded. That’s in no way an excuse to enact violence upon gays, nor is it an espousal of the idea that gays should “masculinize” themselves to downplay their fancifulness; rather, it’s merely meant to highlight a double standard. Fighting for the gay cause while subsequently upholding antiquated characterizations of gays is counterproductive. It’s the same concept as fighting for African-American civil rights while laughing at Al Jolson in blackface without realizing the context behind it or comprehending the origin of the racial archetype. In the way the entire concept of blackface is enormously offensive to black people and pretty much every decent human being, so then should gay stereotypes be.

It’s somewhat unfortunate this subject has overshadowed the actual accomplishments of the athletes, but human equality is a much larger matter than a sporting event in the scheme of things. That’s why, while well-intentioned, it’s important to highlight what effect subconsciously promoting the stereotypes set forth by anti-gay crusaders has. Certain statements may seem innocuous enough, but could be inadvertently validating the same anti-gay bias that’s trying to be dissipated. It’s more important to emphasize the fact that gay people are human beings, not just people with minds that are only capable of comprehending glitter and men in Lycra bodysuits (though I personally object to neither).

An Open Letter to Zac Efron’s Beard

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Dear Zac Efron’s Beard (his actual beard, not his newest girlfriend):

I’ve missed you.

While I’ll inevitably go to see That Awkward Moment specifically to see Zac’s perfect, naked ass in motion on a 50×70-foot screen, it’s me who’s been left feeling naked during his press tour promoting the film. Sure, Zac Efron is literally incapable of being unattractive, but I couldn’t help but to feel that something was missing every time I’d see him in an interview or on a red carpet looking like this:

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It was you.

Granted, your presence isn’t necessary to make me want to bury my face in his ass, but you are still important. Imagine, if you will, what it would have been like if Rosa Parks had never taken a stand on December 1, 1955 or Jon Hamm didn’t let his enormous, freeballing dong have the autonomy to show itself anytime a swift gust of wind whipped across his pelvic area. You deserve your freedom, just as African-Americans and huge cocks warrant theirs!

Like an angel needs its wings, Tara Reid needs her morning vodka tonic, and Russell Brand needs shampoo, I need you. You’ve taken cherub, twinky Zac Efron from boy to man, from High School Musical to rehab, and potential Chris Hansen intervention to full-blown (legal) sex symbol. You’ve given joy to millions, like a flocculent Gandhi. Your radiance is surpassed perhaps by only that of the Aurora Borealis, your virility by John Wayne, and your wonder by the fact Courtney Stodden has a career.

That being said, I’d like to also formally issue a public forewarning that if you do decide to present yourself again, and I happen to run into you and Zac on the street, I cannot be held accountable if I lose control of my senses, rip my clothes off, and attempt to make out with him.

Yours truly,
Lucas

The 10 Hottest Members of the 2014 U.S. Winter Olympic Team

As someone who has zero interest in sports (outside of maybe men’s diving because, hello, Speedos), the Olympics have always struck me as an overhyped institution. The winter Olympics are particularly  boring to me, seeing as how it basically consists people shuffling around on ice and snow in different variations. Sure, the Olympians have worked their asses off and devoted painstaking hours of training to perfecting their craft, but if we’re being honest, I really only watch to judge the hot athletes. This year I’ve decided to consolidate said hot athletes into a convenient top 10 list, therefore ensuring I won’t have to watch every Olympic event just to scope out the ones who could get it.

1.  Travis Ganong – Alpine Skiing
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It’s a well-known fact that scruff is an aphrodisiac. Granted, the only research behind that statement is that of my penis, but let’s go with it. I’m personally not an outdoorsy person, but find the fact that, in his private life, he is titillating. Is he a good athlete? Hell if I know. Does he look good in Spandex? Definitely.

2.  Steve Langton – Bobsledding and Skeleton
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I didn’t know what skeleton sliding was either, but apparently it’s sort of like when you were a kid and it’d snow, so you’d get your boogie board out of the garage and slide chest-first down a snow-covered hill, only he does it professionally and skillfully. Generally beefy guys don’t do it for me, but throw in that body with the fact he looks like a real life Disney prince and I am sold. I mean, you can  literally see every one of his abdominal muscles through his Spandex uniform. I’d find his dedication to his body admirable if I weren’t too busy trying not to climax looking at him.

3.  Kris Freeman – Cross Country Skiing
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Are you kidding me? Blond, ridiculous body, rosy cheeks: this is about as close to genetic perfection as you get. If his workout regimen weren’t that of an Olympic athlete, I’d be convinced he sold his soul to Satan somewhere along the way.

4. Nick Goepper – Freeskiing
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He’s part Patrick Schwarzenegger doppelgänger, part Broke Straight Boys model, and 100 percent gorgeous. I love a guy who’s sort of dangerous and freeskiing is about as recklessly perilous as it gets at the Winter Olympics. Imagine if skateboarding and skiing had a reckless love child and you have slopestyle freeskiing (and he’s got four gold medals in it!).

5. Jeremy Abbott – Figure Skating
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If nerdy twinks are more your style, look no further than Jeremy Abbott. Figure skating is one of the handful of tolerable sports to me (graceful ice dancers with sparkly costumes–I’m in!), so Jeremy’s been on my radar for a while now, both as an athlete and a total cutie.

6. Bobby Brown – Freeskiing
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He reminds me of my brother’s sexually ambiguous stoner friends who constantly talk about how much pussy they get, but then get high and hit me up for a blowjob, but it was really his flawless jawline won me over. Like Nick Goepper, he’s a scopestyle freeskier, noted for his triple corks, which is apparently some really difficult snowboarding trick, but in my mind sounds like some sort of illicit sexual act…that I want him to try on me.

7.  Zach Parise – Ice Hockey
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I’m going to look past the fact he bears an uncanny resemblance to my cousin and focus on the fact he’s a hockey player, meaning he knows how to take (and give) a hit. I can only presume his performance on the ice translates well to his performance in the bedroom.

8. Chris Mazdzer – Luge
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He could take a luge down my track (bad pun). But in all seriousness, look at that face: adorable! I don’t even like cuddling, but I feel like I could just nuzzle up to him with a big girl bottle of wine and watch First Wives Club.

9. Joey Mantia – Speedskating
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Look, I’m not trying to speculate he’s not of the heterosexual orientation, all I’m saying is he looks like some you may expect to find dancing in hot pants at XL NYC, not to mention he personified the word twink in his younger years. Conjecture aside, straight or gay, he is aesthetically exemplary and, according to Wikipedia, a fantastic athlete (bonus: he looks to have tinges of ginge, which is all but guaranteed to make me drop my pants).

10. Danny Davis – Snowboarding
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BRB, picking up the remnants of my dick because it just exploded. I have such a thing for guys with long hair, but included one with short hair for good measure, just to show he’s flawless either way. That’s it, I’m quitting life and becoming a snowboarding groupie.