Don’t Steal Our Skinny Jeans
Why the extreme right doesn’t deserve truffle oil
Over the weekend in my home state of New Jersey, an anti-gay pastor made his way to the very LGBTQ-friendly Asbury Park to participate in the Festival of Life, an evangelical event. This butthole has called homosexuality “evil” and blamed Robin Williams’ suicide on not having Jesus in his heart.
When I heard of this nonsense, I decided I had to Google this dimwit. And what I found was truly appalling.
He looked like a Brooklyn hipster.
A plaid shirt, skinny jeans, aviator sunglass-wearing fucking hipster. His haircut was that of a bass player in an indie band you may find at Coachella. Shaved on the sides and long on the top, like he went to an old-timey barber instead of a hair salon.
I felt an anger rise in me I hadn’t felt since I lost at Scrabble. This was my breaking point. I had come to almost accept the nonstop bullshittery in this divisive climate. But skinny jeans? I draw the line there.
If you’re a nutjob with ass-backward views, you don’t get to mooch off the Hollywood elites, the liberals, the gays, and people who don’t eat gluten and then bitch that we are responsible for the downfall of society. Whole Foods is our territory, damn it! Let me explain.
You can’t go two feet in the fashion industry without tripping over a homosexual man. Gay men are designing those dark wash skinny jeans you just can’t live without. Gay men gave us the supermodels of the world that you jerked off to as a teenager. And hipsters are gay-friendly, so knocking off their look is just as bad. You can’t hate on gays and hipsters and then co-opt a style you saw in the pages of Esquire. Or on the band Kings of Leon. If there were no gays, I would look like Lois from Family Guy. It’s a horror I can’t even begin to imagine. Want to wear clothes that are gay and therefore style-free? Try a potato sack.
Between Sarah Huckabee Sanders at the Red Hen and Kirstjen Nielsen at MXDC Cocina Mexicana, you would think there are no Waffle Houses left. Gurl, there isn’t going to be a farm-to-table when our planet goes up in smoke. So no, Sarah, you don’t get to indulge in chanterelle and scape risotto! Or Trout Grenobloise! Farm-to-table is not for people who don’t believe in climate change and would gleefully watch Scott Pruitt dismantle the EPA like a cheap IKEA cabinet. And newsflash, the vast majority of the kitchen staff in any given restaurant in America is staffed by undocumented Hispanics. Sarah knows that, but I guess she just couldn’t resist that cheese board. Look I would love to eat fifteen donuts and pretend there are no calories, but there are. Denying reality is not the look. Enjoying an evening out on the backs of people you don’t want here is super lame.
As for Kirstjen — who thought nothing of unwinding at a Mexican restaurant, after a week of trying to separate said people (among other Hispanics) from their children — all I have to say is what the fuck is she smoking? Because whatever it is, I’d like some so I too can be that delusional. That’s like cheating on a boyfriend, punching him in the dick, and then asking if you can hop on it.
Go eat a Hot Pocket for fuck’s sake.
Seth Rogen recently appeared on “Late Night with Stephen Colbert” to regale viewers with the tale of the time Paul Ryan wanted a photo with him. Paul Ryan, the (soon-to-be-former) leader of a party that chastises coastal elites and Hollywood liberals more often than Donald Trump grabs pussies. And get this: Seth Rogen isn’t even American. He’s Canadian. Canadians are worse than American liberals with their socialized healthcare and handsome, articulate president.
And last but not least, if you are an orange-faced Oompa Loompa that tells black athletes they shouldn’t kneel to protest police brutality, you can’t be in your feelings when NFL and NBA teams don’t want to kick it with you and your weird hair at the White House.
Lest you think I am shading the right, I am not. There are plenty of sane people on the right, including some who happen to be gay, Asian, black, or Hispanic. They are people you don’t agree with who aren’t fundamentally batshit crazy or bigoted — who don’t think all Mexicans are rapists or that all gays are going to hell.
You can believe whatever you want. But you can’t have it both ways. You can’t get hard over freshly made guacamole and then act like Mexicans are vermin. You can’t hate gays and want to look like you were styled by one of the Queer Eye guys. And you can’t hate on black people and be angry they don’t want to meet you.
It’s become a culture war, and there are two sides. If you are going to mock and belittle people who believe in all that is farm-to-table, organic cotton, and Bloomingdales, you don’t get to partake in our shit. You also don’t get to complain about Roseanne being taken off the air when the president of ABC is a black woman, because fucking DUH. We don’t want to wear camo and go duck hunting (at least not unironically) or attend homophobic church services. Everyone knows liberals would rather go to brunch and drink mimosas on Sunday morning anyway. If you want to sit with us, you’re going to have to stop acting like a bigoted jackass.
 Not trying to shade Waffle Houses, but all I’m going to say is I went once and my stomach was never the same. Or maybe I should say my intestines.
 Roseanne’s comments are offensive to anyone with half a brain, but expecting a black woman to be okay with that is even more absurd.