LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
The Gospel According To Marc |
by Marc Acito |
Frisky Business: Closets are for Shoes, not Celebrities
"Nicole is out, you want a beer?" "Sure, thanks a lot," I said. Said Tom, "Let's drink 'em over here, and he pointed to the bed. "You have the bluest eyes," I purred as he rubbed me on my thigh. Said Tom, "Well, you just say the word." "Oh, yes, oh, yes!" said I. I gave in to his overtures as he pawed me like a pup. "Come on, Tom, my ass is yours..." And that's when I woke up. Let's face it. When it comes to gorgeous celebrities like Tom Cruise or Ricky Martin, it's hard to separate legitimate speculation from the fact that we just really, really want these guys to be queer. C'mon, admit it. Remember all those rumors back when John Travolta was as thin as the plots of his movies? Then he pulled a Shelley Winters on us and now no one seems to care who the man sleeps with. In the case of Ricky Martin, however, I think our hopes are based less on his appearance (although he does look like he was painted by Caravaggio) than on our wounded gay pride: we just don't want to believe that a leather-wearing straight man could shake his bon-bon so convincingly. The whole Tom Cruise sex scandal, however, intrigues me, particularly because the "Deep Throat" in question is porn actor Chad Slater. Is it just me, or have you ever noticed that Tom Cruise sounds like a porn name invented by Chi Chi LaRue, particularly when you consider the titles of his movies: A Few Good Men, Top Gun, All the Right Moves, Cocktail, and, lest we forget, Losin' It. Coincidence? You decide. I don't know whether Tom and Chad indulged in some risqu business or not but I'd be dead if I didn't have my fantasies. I will say, however, it's time that queer people hit closeted celebrities where it hurts them the mostno, not at the box office, but in bed. That's right, my friends, I'm calling for an international boycott on sex with closeted celebrities. Let The Great Boinking Boycott begin. Imagine if all the queer people on the planet simply refused to have sex with these Hollywood hypocrites; it would only be a matter of a few months before sweaty, pop-eyed superstars would show up on Larry King shouting, "Yes, yes, I admit it, I'm gaynow would someone please come sit on my face?" I say, let's bring these people to their kneesliterally. Make no mistake: I'm not suggesting that we out these dishonest dykes and prevaricating pansies. No, no, no. I'm just saying that if movie stars aren't mature enough to talk honestly about gay sex, then perhaps they shouldn't be having gay sex. Now I realize that celebrities hide their sexuality because they're afraid they won't get paid as much; I just want to make sure they don't get laid as much, either. Of course, getting the cooperation of the prostitutes who service these stars might prove hard (pun intended), but just because you're a whore doesn't mean you can't have scruples. I know that it won't be easy for you homo hos, but even if Tom Cruise comes sliding across your floor in his BVDs, just remind him of the box office receipts for Eyes Wide Shut and watch his weenie wilt. For the rest of you, if you're anything like me (and if you're reading this column, then you are, Blanche, you are), you've probably been boycotting celebrity sex for years now and didn't even realize you were making a political statement. That's the best part about The Great Boinking Boycott: it's so easy! You could be sitting around in a coat made out of six endangered species stitched together by Vietnamese children and still think to yourself, "Well, at least I'm not having sex with any of those Hollywood hypocrites." So spread the word: if you're going to be a starf***er, make sure that star has come out first. Who wants to have sex with a closeted celebrity, anyway? They never call you the day after or, if they do, it's to slap a $100 million lawsuit on you. I don't care if he's a toothless contortionist with a 14 inch penis, no sex is worth 100 mil. Besides, it's a well known fact that gay celebs are much better in bed. I'm sure Greg Louganis can hold his breath way longer than Kevin Spacey. And that, my friends, is The Gospel According to Marc. Marc Acito wants to hear about your celebrity sex encounters. E-mail your confessions to MarcAcito@home.com. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 11, No. 9, July 13, 2001 |