Dec 12, 2015

Drake and Josh and Craig and Eric

Drake and Josh (2004-2007) was a Nickelodeon teencom about two high school stepbrothers.

The scheming underachiever, Drake (Drake Bell).

And the shy intellectual, Josh (Josh Peck).  He only started getting buff in the last season.

Like The Wizards of Waverly Place and The Suite of Life of Zack and Cody, the program was not shy about subtexts.  While both dated girls, Drake and Josh shared a physicality, an emotional connection, and an exclusivity that would elsewhere mark them definitively as romantic partners.

And there was an even more overt gay couple.

Network censorship forbade the nerds Craig and Eric (Alec Medlock, Scott Halberstadt) from being explicitly identified as a gay couple -- not on a program aimed at a teenage audience -- but they were as open as they could be without actually Wearing a Sign.

They danced together at a wedding.
They went on a double date with a heterosexual couple.
They bemoaned the loss of their pictures taken at Niagara Falls (a stereotypic honeymoon destination).
They broke up, realized how much they care for each other, and reconciled (while Drake sang “Beautiful Dreamer").
 In the series finale, the tv-movie Merry Christmas, Drake and Josh (2008), they were shown holding hands.

In a 2007 episode, Drake comes very close to saying the word "gay."   In a feeble, half-hearted attempt to Be Discreet, Eric tells Drake, “Girls are nothing but trouble.  That’s why we don’t have girlfriends.”

Drake stares at him for a long moment, a curious self-satisfied grin on his face.  He is obviously dying to Say  the Word.  The studio audience goes crazy with excitement.  Will they finally hear it spoken aloud?

It looks for all the world like the actor is trying to decide whether he should stick to the script or say something like "You don't have girlfriends because you're gay," and risk a reshoot.

But, in the end, he sticks to the script:  “There are a lot of reasons why you two don’t have girlfriends,” leaving the viewer the option of pretending not to know what those reasons are.

Juvenile tv programs are often loaded down with hints and innuendos -- Even Stevens, Hannah Montana, The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, and The Wizards of Waverly Place come to mind.

But we're still waiting for a program aimed at teenagers or children to break the silence.

Dec 11, 2015

Smallest Guys on My Sausage List

The Smallest Guys on My Sausage List

About 25% of the men in the U.S. are small, with 5" or less, but you rarely see them.

They hide behind a towel at the gym.

They don't go to bath houses or M4M Parties, or cruise for hookups.

Their dating profiles online say 7".

Once on the date, they'll make extra sure to win you over with their wit, money, or physique before even considering dropping their pants.

Here are the smallest guys I remember dating. graded by:
C: 4.5 to 5.5" (11.5 - 14 cm)
D: 3.5 to 4.5" (9 - 11.5 cm)
F: Under 3.5" (9 cm)

Remember, this is just one grade on their report cards.  They might have a B+ for intelligence, a B for charm, a B+ for physique, and for bedroom performance, an A+.

And, to avoid embarrassment, I'm not including anyone who I am still in contact with.


1. Joseph, from the Gay Student Union at Indiana University.  He was very popular, so we didn't actually date, but we did hook up the night we saw the ghost in his grandmother's house.  C

West Hollywood

2. Dr. Bartan, the Most Conservative Professor at USC.  It took me months to land a date with him.  C

3.  Chehay, the slim, soft survivor of the Pol Pot atrocities in Cambodia, whose drag queen Aunti Bopha cornered me at Mugi in an attempt to marry him off.  C.

4. Ryan the Dwarf, with whom I had the worst date in West Hollywood history (not for that reason). C

5. The Bondage Boy with the Sweeney Todd fetish, who lived in Long Beach.  He was into vore (fantacizing about being eaten).  But he wouldn't have made much of a meal. D.

6. Ramon from Barcelona, of Chinese ancestry, but he didn't speak Chinese.  He was, however, fluent in Catalan and a promoter of Catalonian independence.  We had quite a heady political conversation for a hookup. C.

New York

7. The Unhung Hippie who talked nonstop, mostly trivia and nonsense.  Yuri wanted to hook up with him, assuming by his height, hands, and feet that he was hung.  I tagged along to make sure the hippie wasn't an axe murderer.  Even worse: regrettable beneath the belt gifts.  D


8. The Teenage Hitchhiker that David and I picked up.  An 18-year old from Canada, he wanted to go as far south as he could before his freshman year started in the fall.  C

9.  The Guy at the Glory Hole at the Club in Wilton Manors.  In a classic bait and switch, the penis at the hole was huge, but the guy whispering "Let's go back to my room" was not.  He had rather a pencil stub.  F.

10. Comic Book Guy, who liked to kiss on the couch, but refused to go further, until finally I insisted that I be allowed to spend the night  Resulting in the discovery of his extra-extra small beneath the belt gifts.  But that's not why I didn't see him again.  F

11. The Firefighter in Dayton.  Nicely muscular physique, disappointing beneath the belt.  He said that guys sometimes changed their minds at the end of the date. D

12. Carlos who had 3 secrets.  One, he was a superchub (his ad said "a few extra pounds").  Two, he had a hot boyfriend.  Three, his sausage was so small that I couldn't even find it.  F


13, The Transman and His Angry Inch.  Turns out that I read this Philadelphia college boy's ad wrong.  He hadn't transitioned beneath the belt yet.  What he had was lady parts enlarged by testosterone treatments into an angry inch.  F

14. My First Grindr Hookup. AKA the boy who had never been kissed.  Other things, but not kissed.  So that was all he wanted to do.  I wondered if he was another Comic Book Guy, but he was just a little small.  C.

15. Ricky with a Y, or should I say Ricky with a C.  This was just a couple of weeks ago, but I'm pretty sure I won't be introducing Ricky with a Y to my parents or asking what kind of carpet he wants to install.

Uncensored photos are on Tales of West Hollywood

Dec 10, 2015

My Date with Santa Claus

It was Christmastime, one of the years when I couldn't make it back to the Midwest, so I was even more depressed than usual.  To cheer me up, my friend David dragged me to the Bear Party (for husky guys and their admirers) held every Saturday night in a house South of Market.

As we wandering through the upstairs lounge area, where guys were chatting and eating Christmas cookies and drinking egg nog to "Jingle Bell Rock," David exclaimed "Look -- it's Santa Claus."

The guy he pointed out did look like Santa Claus, except for the jeans and red suspenders -- in his 60s, tall, thick muscular arms going to fat, a chubby belly, a white beard, his chest covered with white fur.  He was sitting on a leather couch, talking animatedly to a friend.

"Come on, let's go sit on Santa's lap!"

David was 43 years old, recently out, and anxious to try everything with everybody, but I was a little more picky,

"He's not into it!" I exclaimed.  Some guys came to the Bear Parties just to socialize with friends.  If you wanted sexual activity, you went down to the basement, where there were three rooms of mazes, mattresses, and dungeons.  "Besides, my idea of Santa Claus is a little younger, with a bodybuilder's physique."

"Don't tell me you never fantasized about Santa sliding down your chimney!"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Scrooge!"  David dragged me across the room and knelt in front of Santa like a supplicant at an altar.

The rest of the story is too risque for Boomer Beefcake and Bonding.  You can read it on Tales of West Hollywood.

Gay Neighbors in Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood

The toddler tv show Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood (1966-2001) arrived in Rock Island when we got PBS in 1971 or 1972.  I was too old for it, but my sister Tammy watched, and sometimes I caught a glimpse while waiting for Cartoon Showboat.

The live-action segments I could do without: Mr. Rogers visits a nursery school or a bakery, or tries to put things together.  But I liked the Neighborhood of Make Believe, a medieval kingdom with both puppet and real-life residents who weren't entirely maudlin.

The pompous King Friday XIII, whose rendition of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" became "Propel, Propel, Propel Your Craft," was the only resident to engage in heterosexual behavior, at least in the episodes I watched.  He fell in love with a Southern-accented commoner named Sarah, married her, and sired a son, Prince Tuesday.

The other residents didn't display any heterosexual interest, and many had gender-atypical traits which allow for a gay reading.

The feisty Lady Elaine Fairchilde, who runs a revolving museum, flies in a spaceship to Jupiter, and calls everyone "toots."

X the Owl, with a Southern drawl and an affinity for Benjamin Franklin.

Daniel Striped Tiger, a tame tiger of French ancestry, neat, tidy, fashion-conscious, who carefully points out that his middle name has two syllables.

Not a lot of beefcake, but Joe Negri was cute (early photo, left), and Chuck Aber (top photo) had a muscular physique.

A Presbyterian minister before entering show biz, Fred Rogers was apparently tolerant of gay people but an opponent of gay marriage.

In 2012, an animated sequel, Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, premiered on PBS.  Set entirely in the Neighborhood of Make Believe (which has somehow become a tropical jungle), it stars the children of the original cast.  Apparently Lady Elaine Fairchild and Daniel Striped Tiger were heterosexual after all.

But not X the Owl -- he's raising his young nephew, O the Owl.  So maybe there's still a gay neighbor in  Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood.

Dec 9, 2015

Ricky with a Y

Whenever I go on Grindr, I get these pickup lines or variants a dozen times an hour:
1. "Nice pic" (everybody gets that)
2. I love older guys"
3. "I've been a naughty boy, Daddy. "

I hate being called Daddy.  Maybe I'm 20 or 30 years older than you, but I'm not your father.

Ricky with a Y (he specified the Y even though I could see it on the screen)  wasn't physically spectacular: in his 20s, a little shorter than me, with a handsome face, a hairy chest, not particularly muscular, a little small beneath the belt.  But he stood out from the crowd by his lack of obnoxious cruising.  We talked about The Walking Dead and the musical Titanic rather than the things he wanted me to do to him.

He found out that I was a college professor without making a stupid joke about requiring special after-class tutoring, wink wink nudge nudge.

He found out that my birthday was coming up without making a stupid joke about dinosaurs.

Nor did he call me Daddy.

So of course I accepted the date, for the Saturday after my birthday. "Leave everything to me.  This is my town, so I know my way around.  I'll give you an unforgettable night."

He picked me up at 6:00 pm in a very nice black convertible.

"This is my baby -- I've had her since college.  You should have seen me tooling around Harvard Yard."

Ok, everybody I've known who went to Harvard was crazy.  I waited to find out what Ricky's eccentricity was.  Other than being Ricky with a Y.

We went to dinner at a place called Grille 26, where the prices were high and the food boring: scallops, pasta, steak.

And the craziness began.  He psychoanalyzed everything.

"What do you do for a living?" I asked politely.

"Interesting that you would start off with the financial rather than my artistic or spiritual life.  Do you feel dissatisfied with your own economic success?

"Um...I was just trying to be polite."

By the way, he helped run the family soft drink company, which was quite successful, with root beer, birch beer, and cola that was #3 in the state, after Coke and Pepsi.  He also ran a mail-order company specializing in gay pride merchandise, and in his spare time he did financial consulting.  And he wanted to talk about his artistic side?

"My favorite food is Thai," I continued, making small talk.

"Interesting.  Is the food a stand in for the people?  Fetishization of Asians is quite common in gay communities, I understand.  They're stereotyped as soft and passive, easy to dominate, particularly if you're insecure about your sexual prowess."

"I'm not...i'm not insecure about my sexual prowess!  I just like pad thai."

And on and on.

Why did I stay friends with most of my ex-lovers?  Was I reluctant to let go, let the past stay the past, because I was afraid to face the future, the inevitability of death?

Why did I call my mother every week, but not my father?

Why didn't I allow my dinner companion to try one of my scallops?

Finally, after what felt like an intensive psychotherapy session, Ricky with a Y said "This has been fascinating, but we'd better be going, or we'll be late for the theater."

He had theater tickets?  Great. Angels in America was playing at the college.  But instead he took me to A Christmas Story: The Musical, about that kid and his quest to get a gun from Santa Claus, plus the lamp shaped like a lady's leg.

"Why does the lamp shaped like a lady's leg bother you?  Is it the disembodiment, the objectification of women?  Or does it make you doubt your own sexual identity?"

Then we went to an upscale dance club -- for heterosexuals.

"Come on, there's nothing to be afraid of.  This isn't the homophobic 1980s.  Why are you afraid to admit that things have gotten better for gay people?  Does it threaten your raison d'etre?"

"Why are you Ricky with a Y?" I countered.  "Is it so people don't mistake you for Ricki with an I, a girl's name? Are you trying to draw attention to your Y chromosome? Do you think that being gay makes you a girl?"

"Good point!  But getting back to..."

By the time Ricky said "This has been great! Let's go back to my place!", I had been run through the emotional wringer a dozen times.  I wanted to go home and curl into a fetal position.

But maybe a nice peaceful wordless sexual encounter would be a good antidote.

He had a modern apartment, all steel-and-glass, with plants and abstract art and leather furniture.  We kissed for awhile on the couch, then went into the bedroom.  Where the psychoanalyzing began again.

"Why do you have an aversion to anal sex?  Is it because that's the iconic gay sexual act?  Do you think that, as long as you don't top me, you're not really gay?"

I had to work very hard to avoid making a comment about his extra-small penis and extra-big car.

The full story, with uncensored photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood.

10 Snappy Comebacks to Your Crazy Fundamentalist Relatives

Summer is coming, which means you will probably be dragged out of the safe haven of your home and family, shoved onto an airplane, and forced to spend ten days "back home" in the Straight World.

Where, inevitably, one or more of your crazy fundamentalist relatives will spend the entire 10 days hitting you with a Bible and shrieking "God hates you!", presuming that you have never heard the message of hate before.

Or, if you are not out, walking around the house muttering "God hates gay people!"

When faced with such a relative, I suggest leaving.  Get out of the house.  Go to the gym or the park.  Maybe you'll see a cute guy lifting weights.

But if you can't get away, or you are tired of the homophobic diatribes, here are 10 facts guaranteed to have an impact.  Maybe not change their mind -- haters gonna hate -- but surprise them enough to shut them up.

1. "Gay people are more likely to be religious than straights." According to a recent survey, gay people are just as likely to be religious as heterosexuals.  In fact, gay men are more likely than straight men to think that going to church is "very important" in their lives.

2. "Most churches accept gay members."  About 40% of Protestants in the United States belong to denominations that accept LGBT members.

3. "There are some gay churches." There are five Protestant denominations with a mostly gay membership.  The largest, the Universal Fellowship of Metropolitan Community Churches, has congregations in over 40 countries around the world.

4. "There are only five verses in the Bible used to claim that God is a bigot, and they aren't about gay people at all." 

5. "There was no word for gay people in ancient Hebrew or Greek."  The word "homosexual" in your Bible is a homophobic mistranslation of the Greek  arsenokoitai ("men who have sex"), and malakoi ("men who are soft").

6. " The Sodomites weren't gay." The story of Sodom and Gomorrah is about being inhospitable to strangers, a terrible sin in desert cultures.

7. "According to the Bible, eating shrimp is worse than being gay." That verse in Leviticus, "Thou shalt not lie with man as with woman," is a reference to temple prostitution, not a general prohibition.  Leviticus also states that anyone who eats shellfish, disobeys their parents, or engages in interracial marriage should be stoned to death.

8. "Most straight weddings have a celebration of a gay couple." The Bible verse often used in wedding ceremonies: "Where you go, I will go...your people will be my people," was spoken by Ruth to Naomi.  A same-sex couple.

9. "Jesus made a pro-gay statement." Jesus didn't mention gay people, but he did mention eunuchs, who often engaged in same-sex activity.  He liked them.

10.  "If God hates me so much, why didn't He say anything about it when I talked to Him this morning?"

Dec 8, 2015

8 Harvard Boys in My Bed

Whenever I'm in Boston, I try to visit Harvard University, walk down Everett and Oxford and Divinity Street, across Harvard Yard.  I go into the Widener Library and Memorial Hall, down the corridors of the Law School and the Divinity School, pretending that I belong there, that I'm a student (or, more recently, a professor).

I am always shocked by how ordinary the buildings and classrooms and students look.  This isn't a shimmering otherworld of universal wisdom.  It could be any college anywhere.  It could be Penn State.

Ok, the freshman dining hall looks a lot like Hogwarts.

However, every Harvard student and graduate I've ever known has been crazy.  No exceptions.  Some are just quirky or eccentric, some are bona fide nutcases.

I've dated or hooked up with eight Harvard boys.  Each has had a fabulous physique or superb beneath-the-belt gifts.  Each has been certifiable.

In order, from least to most insane:

1. Jermaine, the Biggest Guy on My Sausage List, with an enormous Kovbasa++++.  He was remarkably kind and unfailingly upbeat, with just a few eccentric habits.  Like asking "Who's your Daddy" during the sexual act, getting offended at the suggestion that he might be a top, and skinny dipping in the icy Atlantic Ocean with his uncle.

2. Ari, the Linguist Who Wouldn't Shut Up, born in Israel, with Hebrew as his native language.  But he didn't want to talk about that.  He wanted to talk about the pronomials of Tlingit, a Na-Dene language of British Columbia and Alaska, and the gender categories of Jingulu, an Australian aboriginal language.  Yawn.  At least he was gifted beneath the belt, #6 on my Sausage List.

3. Hunter the Historian, an undergrad I hooked up with in the Widener Library while visiting Boston for a conference.  He was a history major who asked me an endless array of questions about life in West Hollywood in the 1980s.  Was I a Castro clone?  Did I go to the baths?  Did I use poppers? I kept trying to steer him toward the sexual encounter.  

4. Sammy Blowfish, the son of my old high school speech teacher, a new art history professor at a small private college in Iowa.  Other than his odd inferiority complex and his fixation on dalmatians (although he didn't own one), his only quirk was trying too hard, initiating sexual acts a dozen times in the 24 hours or so of our date.

5. Dr. Charles Bertan, professor of Restoration and Augustan literature at USC, uptight, conservative, so completely non-sexual that I couldn't imagine him with his clothes off, let alone actually having sex with anyone.  We went out on one date.

6. Ricky With a Y,  a cute twink with a hairy chest and a rather small penis, who spent our whole date psychoanalyzing me.  "Why do you think that is interesting?" "Why do you say that?"  "Tell me about your relationship with your father?"

Even in the bedroom: "Is your refusal to engage in anal really a failure to embrace your gay identity?  Do you subconsciously believe that if you don't top me, you're not really gay?"

He wasn't even a psychiatrist.  He ran a mail-order company that sold gay pride merchandise.

7.  Matt, Fred's Cute Young Thing, a recent graduate of Andover Academy and Harvard, who spoke with a nasal Boston accent, peppered his conversation with French and German, adored the opera, and complained that everything about me was bourgeois or jejune:  the Midwest, West Hollywood, USC, you name it.  Plus he gossiped about everybody and everything, providing the weird voices.

In the bedroom, he kept up a nonstop monologue of his progress: "I'm getting there...un peu plus, mon chevalier...a little vais arriver...a little more...bien, I go..."

What did Fred see in this guy?

Well, he was cute.

8. Santa Claus, aka BearnĂ¡rd with an accent, in his 60s, chubby, with a white beard and a hairy chest.  He was actually David's hookup, not mine, but I tagged along to make sure everything was ok.

BearnĂ¡rd majored in biology at Harvard, but now he wrote fantasy novels about King Arthur and lived in a completely Medievalized apartment in the Castro. There were suits of armor, tapestries, halberds,and heavy oak tables.  He offered us "mead" to drink out of golden goblets (really).

The complete list, with nude photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood.

Edward's Hookup with a Winged Man

This story happened to my roommate Edward, the art appraiser I lived with in the East Village.  When I knew him, from 1998 to 2001, he was in his late 50s and early 60s, tall, husky, tanned, white-haired, slightly feminine, and eccentric.

But back in 1958, he was Eddie, a 18-year old high school boy growing up in Houghton, on isolated Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  Not aware that he was gay yet -- not even aware that same-sex desire existed.

Until he met the naked winged man in a field in Germany.

This story is too risque to recount here. You can read it on Tales of West Hollywood.

Frank Finds What We're All Looking For

Since 1996, readers of independent comics have been treated to the adventures of Frank, a bipedal "funny animal" who looks like he escaped from a 1930s Max Fleischer cartoon. He inhabits a surreal, chaotic world called the Unifactor, surrounded by grotesque plants and animals, landforms that turn into people, monstrous god-like beings, monstrous demon-like beings, the spiritual emanations of real-world people, symbols, metaphors, and jivas (immortal essences shaped like gaudy tops).

The stories are wordless, except for an occasional cryptic remark. You are expected to find your own meanings.

It is crazy, weird, surreal fun, with lots of gay subtexts.

Frank's main nemesis is the Manhog, a naked, sweating, hedonistic hog-person,  The Manhog is often abused by his superiors in the Unifactor hierarchy, and, jealous of Frank's comfort and privilege, seeks revenge. But in one story he finds enlightenment through the ministrations of a caring friend or lover, and seeks out Frank to make amends.

One of the main sources of discord in the Unifactor is Whim, a demon-moon faced stick-being who conducts weird body-altering experiments and otherwise torments other beings.  But he, too, can be read with a gay subtext for his intensely physical interest in Frank.

So I thought.  But then I noticed some strong, almost Puritanical moralizing in Jim Woodring's comments.

Frank is "completely naive, capable of sinning by virtue of not knowing what he's really about."

Manhog is "an unholy hybrid of human ambivalence," who has sinned so much that he deserves all of the suffering he gets.

The beings in the Unifactor are inhabiting a spiritual realm, surrounded by myths and symbols, trying to find the ultimate reality that will explain their existence.

What is the ultimate reality?

In Congress of the Animals (2011), we find out.  Frank goes exploring, enters another realm of consciousness, and finds "what we all are looking for."  The ultimate reality.

A girl.

At first I thought I could still salvage Frank.  Maybe it wasn't a girl, maybe it was a boy, or a being of indeterminate gender.  Maybe "what we all are looking for" is a friend.

Nope, it's a girl named Fran.

Is the ultimate meaning of life creating art?  Helping people?  Exploring?  Finding God?

Nope, "what we are all looking for," is  heterosexual romance.

And erasing gay people from the world.

Dec 6, 2015

Shock-headed Peter: Castration and Gay Panic in a German Children's Story

When I was in Germany a few years ago, my friend Doc took me to a restaurant called the Struwwelpeter Apfelweinwirtschaft (The Slovenly Peter Apple Wine Tavern).

Its logo was a boy with wild blond hair and long sharp nails like Edward Scissorhands.

Nearby there was a statue of the same boy, along with some other children.

"You've never heard of Struwwelpeter?" Doc asked.  "He's a national hero, like Bart Simpson in America!"

Turns out that all German schoolchildren read Der Struwwelpeter, written and illustrated by Heinrich Hoffmann (1809-1894), about children who misbehave and get their comeuppance -- usually a violent retribution.

A girl who plays with matches burns to death.
Kaspar, who won't eat his soup, wastes away and dies.
Hans, whose "head is always in the clouds," falls into a river.
Robert, who goes outside in a storm, blows away.

Hoffmann was a psychiatrist, though he lived before Freud's discovery of the unconscious, and many of his stories have been analyzed for their psychosexual undertones

The most obvious gay connection is in the story of Konrad, der Daumenlutscher (the Thumb-Sucker).  

Though his mother warns him to not suck his thumb, Konrad persists in the bad habit.  Then he encounters the Tailor with the Scissors (in modern versions, the monstrous Scissor-Man), who cuts both of his thumbs off.  

Oral fixation, symbolic castration, gay anxiety, and a 19th-century Freddie Kruger!

The stories have been translated into several languages.  They were adapted into a 1955 movie (available on youtube), an operetta (1992) and a musical (1998).  

In 2010, Richard Mansfield filmed an explicitly homoerotic shadow-puppet version,  of the Daumenlutscher story, "Suck-a-Thumb." It made the rounds of the gay film festivals.

In an even more explicitly gay sequel, Konrad is sent to a psychiatric hospital for a brutal "cure."

Don't worry, that's a door handle, not what you're thinking.

Bible Beefcake

When I was a kid, our church forbade any books except the Bible.  My parents were more lenient, permitting comic books and Scholastic Book Club selections, but the Bible had an advantage -- you could read it anywhere, during choir practice or Sunday school or a screaming hellfire sermon, and the adults would pay no attention -- or they would think you were especially devout, as you got your quota of beefcake, bonding, and sex.  Not to mention violence.

1. Beefcake.  David looks like a veritable Conan the Barbarian, wearing only a loincloth, wielding a magic sword as he stands over the slain Goliath.  And who knew that Cain assaulted Abel by kicking him in the crotch while they were both naked?

2. Bonding.  David and Jonathan had a love "surpassing the love of women."  That is, their homoromance far surpassed hetero-romance.  If only David didn't insist on bring Goliath's head along on their dates.  And why did Joseph reject women's advances to spend all of his time schmoozing with the Pharaoh ? (Photo below is Donny Osmond in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat).

3. Sex.  After the Flood, Noah was lying around drunk when his son Ham "uncovered his nakedness."  But to "uncover" someone's "nakedness" means doing more than sneaking a quick peek, and God got so upset over the incest that He decreed that Ham and all of his descendants (the Africans) should be slaves.  The Biblical support of slavery caused the first chip in the edifice of my fundamentalism.

Fast-forward a few thousand years to the New Testament, and Philip the Apostle sees an Ethiopian eunuch on the road, invites him to spend the night in his tent, and in the morning baptizes him.  Eunuchs are castrated, unable to have sex with women.  So who do they have sex with?  Just ask Philip.  (In 1986, my roommate Alan used the story of the Ethiopian eunuch to try to get with my boyfriend.)