Six Flags

I normally save these types of actual tales for Saturdays but I have to devote extra attention to tomorrow’s post. The big conclusion to the afterlife series will be a 3D entry and the technology is a little trickier than I assumed.

Before I write the story, I want to make something clear. I am not a homophobe. I believe people should live their lives as they see fit. I actually never understood how parents could disown their children for being gay—another great aspect of religion! (Religion = the ultimate separator of people!) I grew up in a Cape Verdean, Catholic, homophobic community. We always tell gay jokes because they are hilarious. In the same manner, racist jokes are funny. People need to stop being so sensitive.

One of the best pub experiences in my life happened at Mr. Dooley’s, home of Boston’s best Guinness. (If you haven’t enjoyed a glass, DO SO!) I was with several of my cousins and we had a blast, drinking the smoothest Guinness while sharing racist jokes with some Irish folk we met. It was all in good fun and everyone had a great time! (Politically correct people suck!)

To me, the funniest joke came from one of the Irish guys, who asked, “What do you call a black guy flying a plane?” After several minutes of puzzled faces and silence because we couldn’t figure out a racist answer, he blurted out, “A Pilot, you racists fucks!” Hilarious!

I understand gay jokes may be offensive to the GLBT community, but we are not trying to be mean spirited; it’s all about a laugh. Tell straight people jokes, I can guarantee you, WE WILL NOT BE OFFENDED! Here’s one: “Why are straight guys pussies?” I don’t know! “Because you are what you eat!” (Sorry I don’t know any good straight people jokes!)

Comedian Drew Carey’s book Dirty Jokes And Beer has been in my library for several years and it is a riot. (A great read, pick up a copy!) At the beginning of each chapter Carey opens with a joke. This one concerns the topic, so I’ll share.

     A guy gets put into a nursing home by his son. He doesn’t know if he’s going to like it at first, but he decides to give I a shot for his son’s sake.

     The first morning in the nursing home he wakes up with a hard-on. Out of nowhere, a beautiful nurse walks in, kneels down, and blows him without saying a word.

     The guy gets on the phone to his son and says, “”Son! I love this place! Thank you so much for putting me in this nursing home!”

     The son says, “Wow, Pop. You sound really happy. What happened?”

The old man says, “You won’t believe it. I woke up this morning with a hard-on, and the most beautiful nurse I’ve ever seen in my life came into the room and blew me. Didn’t say a word. Just blew me.”

     “Well, that sounds great, Dad. Congratulations.”

     “Well, thank you, son,” the old man says, and hangs up the phone.

     Later that day, the old man is walking down the hall in his walker. He slips and falls and can’t get up. A big hillbilly orderly comes up to him, rips his pants down, fucks him up the ass, and leaves him lying there in a heap.

     The old man crawls to a phone and calls his son. “You gotta get me out of here, Son, this place is nuts!”

     “What happened, Pop? You sound terrible!” says the son.

     “Well, I was walking with my walker and I fell down and couldn’t get up. Then this big hillbilly orderly came by, ripped my pants down, and fucked me up the ass!”

     “Well, you know, Dad,” says the son. “You got a blow job this morning. You gotta take the good with the bad…”

     “No, you don’t understand, Son!” exclaims the old man. “I only get a hard-on once a month! I fall down three, four times a day!”

**********************THE MAIN STORY************************

This Actually Happened

The episode occurred about six years ago, during the Summer. After being frustrated that the crew never gathered for a trip to six flags, Zig approached me and said, “Yo, we should just pick a Sunday and go to the park!” I thought it was a great idea. Me and Zig together is always a great time, and two people have a better chance of picking up women than a mob of guys. (Mobs scare females away!) The plan was never solidified and the weeks flew by without any trip to Six Flags. The last week of August had to be the day. Zig purchased the tickets through his job and the trip was planned; sacrifices had to be made—no drinking on the preceding Saturday! Zig arrived early on Sunday morning. The park opened at 9am so we left Boston around 7:30am. It was a quick trip and we reached our destination a few minutes before 9am. The parking fee was $26 and we drove to a spot. On the way, I noticed a group of people, males and females. One guy was flamboyant and I said, “Looks like you’re going to bag today, Zig!” We laughed. We found a spot and parked. A minute later, a car parked near us. Three girls walked out and one was extremely attractive. “Looks like it’s gonna be a good day!” Zig remarked. We mixed our own batch of Long Island Iced Tea and pre-gamed for a few minutes. I noticed more and more flamboyantly dressed guys parking in our vicinity. “Damn, they must have known you were coming, there are a lot of gay guys here today; You’re gonna have a blast.” We laughed. It was time to go to the entrance. We walked and I noticed more gay dudes on the way. “What is going on. There are a lot of gay guys here.” I said. “You think everyone is gay. Look at all the chicks.” Zig replied. We arrived at the main entrance and Zig began to notice how many gay dudes were around. “Oh shit! I think you’re right; there are a lot of gay gays here…YOU DON’T THINK…” He said. “Na. NO WAY!” I assured. We did our best not to notice what seemed to be obvious, but we had to get to the bottom of the situation. Zig spotted an attendant and we walked over to her. “Excuse me. I don’t want to seem insensitive, but is there something going on here today?” I inquired. “Yeah, It’s GAY DAY!” She informed with a laugh. “You guys didn’t know?” She continued. “No!” We yelled simultaneously. “Come on. Seriously? Then why does he have on a red shirt?” She asked, pointing at Zig. “What does that mean?” He asked. “Red is the color the gay guys chose to wear so they can identify one another.” She revealed. Long story short, we hopped back in the car and enjoyed a long, silent ride back to Boston. Waste of a day and $26. (I have nothing against gays, but we left for the same reason we don’t go to gay bars. It’s not our crowd!) When we arrived at my house, Zig said, “We can never speak of this again!” Are you kidding me! I can’t wait to tell the story! BELIEVE IT OR NOT!

@PeteTeix617