I like my beer cold,
my tv loud,
and my homosexuals faaahlaming.
– Homer Simpson

What he said.

This was a subject I was going to ignore. The cacophony has been peaking
recently, and until now I was going to ignore it from the sidelines.

How could I continue to cover my ears when something like this happens:

From Tapped

I KNOW METROSEXUALS. METROSEXUALS ARE FRIENDS OF MINE. AND GOVERNOR, YOU ARE NO METROSEXUAL. He may attract “Queer Eye for the Dean Guy” signs at rallies and boast that a gay man has called him “handsome,” but Howard Dean is no “metrosexual,” as he claimed to be at a breakfast meeting in Colorado yesterday. For the record, no man who “has been known to stuff pretzels into his pockets,” goes anywhere with “shaving nicks on his neck, uneven fingernails and wrinkles from a hanger creasing his suit at the knees” (as has been documented in The Washington Post) and still wears a 20-year-old suit he bought for $125 at J.C. Penny’s (as Dean claimed on The Tonight Show that he does) can call himself a metrosexual.

Oh, sweet jesus. This man could be my party’s nominee for president.

My natural dislike for Mr. Dean just turned to rage. The piece goes on…

Everyone following Dean closely on the campaign trail knows two things. First, the man is an unrepentant cheapskate — during the weekend before the last debate, while most other campaign staffers stayed in a Detroit skyscraper, Team Dean slept at a budget hotel. And second, he wears very old clothes.

“Everybody thinks I’m very hip, but I am really a square,” Dean told the Denver Post today, backpedaling from his initial claim.

Anyway, I’ve secretly been praying (to God, Allah and Buddha just to be safe) that the word metrosexual goes away quickly.

Looks like I lose. Metrosexual is everywhere. I suspect I’m being
punished for praying to multiple gods.

Am I being oversensitive because I might be one? Maybe. But I’m not
going to stop using Baxter of California product,
Apple computers, or wearing Kenneth Cole clothes.

I like David Beckham for his wicked swerving free kicks, not because
he paints his nails. But I guess that liking soccer could be judged
as metrosexual, negating any progress that I made.

Beckham, sporting the faux-mohawk, takes the ball from Mos Def

Now there is a quiz that you can take to determine if you are one.
I’m guessing that no one out there would be surprised to know that I easily
got 10/10.

I know that part of my distaste for this word comes from my overall
hatred for our culture’s need to classify and categorize everything. Further,
what’s with the need for classification and categorization?
Lo-Fi? Neo-Con? Micro-tech? Get a life, now please.

I blame that show on Bravo (not Inside the Actor’s Studio, that other one).
Also the advertising industry.

You will have to excuse me while I run down to Sephora for some shaving cream.