#jessie'scorner

[behindtheghetto]

Jessie's Corner

Dear Society

  If there was ever a species, a kind of existence, a collection of cretins to never mess with; that would be the popper-popping, bathhouse frequenting and club dominating gays.

Before you get your fannies in a twist, this isn’t some homophobic PJA (Public Jessica Announcement); this is simply an honest offering of my wisdom and advice when it comes to the one kind of gays that you should stay clear of while trolling the night.

Now like the colours of the rainbow, there are many types of gays out there. You get the ghetto gays; they’re the ones closest to the breed of faux-human known as the Shaniqua, Tryshina and Shanaynay species. These ghetto gays are dangerous; they cut fast and slick and they run like they’ve been outed by a Russian mob. They’re loud, they’re in your face, but they aren’t the worst.

Then you get your pixie gays. I call them pixie gays because they look like they belong in a cage, where you feed them bird food and you hug them and are really careful with them because they look like they might break. They’re sweet, they’re the closest to having an actual vagina but they don’t and they’re so polite and quiet sometimes you don’t realise you’re even sitting on one (that actually happened once). They’re harmless.

Then you have the closet gays; they break my heart, but they’re a broad sub-species so not much can be said about them. Then you have the lumberjack-like gays. They’re the ones hoes cut gays for. These ones are straight-acting, they’re big, they’re strong and they’re all sex and man, but they love the bussy (the boy p#**y). Although they do some major damage, they aren’t nearly as dangerous as...the popper-popping-club-banging-gays.

This unashamed breed of gay is like a mix of all the other types. They’re skinny like the pixies, they’re ghetto and cut like the ghetto gays and they whoop ass like the lumberjacks. But they don’t just whoop your ass, they do it like it’s a Broadway audition. They fight like girls but have the strength of a full grown man. Ever been slapped by a gay guy? That crap hurts and there’s no returning from that. Clothes shred, fly and frail, glitter explodes, there’s grunting, screaming and scratching and your ass is the one on the floor after all this is done.

Forget the public humiliation, think of the scars and the aftermath. Now he’s kicked your behind, in a club, with his friends cheering him on and you have to pull yourself up, hold your head up high and walk out of there like you’re alright. No honey, you aren’t. You were just beaten up by a man that takes it up the hole and you best know that they could do it again if they wanted.

Them bitches pull out UFC moves like you don't know. It's unbelievable the kind of things they'll make you suffer through, with just their hands!!!!

Why am i saying this? Because i saw a very big, very straight man being bitch slapped and owned in public by a very gay, very loud and very skinny gay guy and it was horrific. It was like watching your grandmother fall down the stairs and fart at the same time; you want to laugh, but you also scared she might have died. It was wild.

This is a word of caution, because i think the world needs my advice and love. DON’T MESS WITH THE POPPER-POPPING-CLUB-BANGING-GAYS. You’ve been warned.

Let’s do this again, Bitches XXO

[behindtheghetto]

Jessie's Corner

Dear society

Beat up your children and do it now.

Life was so much quieter when kids used to be pulled aside by their parents and whooped into submission. Now you have these demon spawn kids fighting back when you tell them to shut up. I mean just the other day i saw a grown as man get punched in the nuts by his daughter because she didn’t want to sit down and shut up. He just smiled and pretended like he meant for that to happen.

I prayed to Asian Jesus that day and said “Asian Jesus” and he said, “Talk dirty to me” and i said “I’m going to whoop my kids’ asses raw one day. i’m going to hurt them in public and i’m going to punch them in the throats just like my mother used to do with me, because i love them” and he said “Go on with your bad self” and i stopped speaking to him.

The moral of the story is that, part of the reason why we behaved so well in public is because we lived in fear. We feared that should we step out of line, our parents would grow seven heads, whip out that fricken belt and shame us like two hobos fighting over a drumstick, in public, and we’d have to walk around with asses as hot as Jersey Shore herpes for the rest of the day as a reminder; never mess with the one with the belt.

That fear groomed us, it shaped us and we’re better because of it. Now we have to live in fear of being shamed by these kids? Hell to the no!

There is no way in hell i’m going to allow my uterus to endure that kind of torture only to give birth to Satan.

So, parents, fix your kids. Or they might grow up to be criminals and that sort of thing because they have no respect for any kind of authority because you broke them while they were younger.

You can thank me later.

Let’s do this again, Bitches XXO