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OK this online debate about Ernie and Bert getting married is getting ridiculous and it’s up to me to be the final word on the controversy. I consider myself an expert on both Muppets and being gay so this is should end the discussion.

“Bert and Ernie are best friends,” Sesame Street producers said in a statement. “Even though they are identified as male characters and possess many human traits and characteristics (as most Sesame Street Muppets do), they remain puppets and do not have a sexual orientation.”

But we’ve been shown time and time again that puppets do indeed have sexual orientations, and so do Muppets.

Kermit and Miss Piggy have had a longtime heterosexual love affair. And heterosexual Muppets – despite being interspecies – do get married. Animal has a long history of love for WOMAN even though his passion often constitutes sexual harassment. And Gonzo has always had a strong preference for as many hens as he can get.

But it’s not always clear that Bert and Ernie are either gay or straight. They definitely have frequent roommate conflicts, but they sleep in different beds. And I’ve never seen them get it on and they rarely show affection for each other. They strike me more as adolescent roommates forced to live with each other for whatever reason. So I’m not convinced they need to get married, but they would certainly qualify for domestic partnerhood due to being longtime roommates.

This whole argument completely overlooks one Muppet pair who warrant far more attention: Statler and Waldorf. They’re totally gay and have probably been together since World War I. If any gay Muppets deserve marriage it’s these two. And all the signs of gayness are there: season ticket holders at Muppet Theatre? Check. Snazzy dressers (often coordinated)? Check. Acerbic wit? Check. They even go on horse-drawn rides in the park together.

Well well well Mr. Woofy Aaron Rodgers you’re lookin’ mighty dapper in your suit while you and the Green Bay Packers were visiting the White House last week.

I’m sad Aaron didn’t call me. I coulda rode my bike down to meet him. Sadly there doesn’t appear to be any woofy Redskins this year, with maybe an exception for an adorkable offensive coordinator Kyle Shanahan.

This weekend I went on a trip out to Virginia for some camping with friends along the banks of the Shenendoah River at the same place I went to a few years ago. It wasn’t quite as fun as before as the campground was very dusty and infested with ticks, and that one dude in the loincloth was wandering around the campground and was a bit of a buzzkill.

Yes, you read that right, a dude in a loincloth. And have you ever noticed the dude walking around in just his jockstrap and/or loincloth is the one guy who we really don’t want to see in just a jockstrap or loincloth? For example, you never, ever get to see Aaron Rodgers walking around in a loincloth, but that guy with the cottage cheese thighs is ALWAYS walking around in a loincloth.

Loincloth guy was eventually beat out by barefoot mostly-naked guy with the knee brace. The knee brace was really a nice touch. I suppose both of them had an easier time checking for ticks later on.

I can’t wait for the return of Absolutely Fabulous! SWEETIE DAHLING!

I came out of undergraduate college with two degrees and financially in the black – but just barely. In 1989-1994 your dollar went a little farther, and state colleges in Wisconsin were fairly cheap. But I received a great education that rivals some of my peers from some of the more famous universities. Out in the field I stand toe-to-toe with graduates from Cornell or Princeton with equivalent degrees.

To pay for my undergraduate education I did work-study programs working at the campus recreation center and in my natural resources college. I also received Pell Grants and other financial assistance because my dad was in the military. More recently while I was working at the University of Maryland I got graduate course tuition coverage while I took evening classes, one class every semester for about five years while I worked. Both of my brothers also have undergraduate degrees, and I believe we were the first in our family to get higher education degrees.

But we’re hearing a lot of noise from the Teatards about how evil Pell Grants are. Certainly there are horror stories about how entitlement programs can create money-sucking welfare monsters as Judge Judy illustrates here. But for the most part I think our society will benefit from programs that help support people who might not otherwise be able to financially support themselves through college.

But these days higher education costs are skyrocketing, even for “cheap” state colleges like the one I went to. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be tens of thousands of dollars in debt upon graduating. But apparently some girls in the U.S. are finding a way through “Sugar Daddies.”

This troubles me as it reminds me of when I caught some of my English language students in Kazakstan writing mail order bride personal ads for classmates. No student should have to whore themselves out in that way to get out of a bad situation.

I also remember a pensioner with a cane who went out on the streets every afternoon looking for money. But she wouldn’t beg directly. When the Soviet Union collapsed, their version of Social Security disappeared with it so she probably had nothing. Her vision wasn’t good, but she could see as far as her feet. Kazaks didn’t drop money on the ground often, only when they saw her on the street and would drop a bill or two in her path. She would slowly bend down to pick up the bill off the ground and continue on her way.

Every time I see a photo or footage of Marcus Bachmann I’m reminded of the character Otho from Beetlejuice. Marcus Bachmann is Michelle Bachmann’s husband. Michelle is a U.S. Representative from the Minneapolis area who is currently the top Republican campaigner for the 2012 Presidential race. Mr. Bachmann runs a clinic where unhappy gays go to receive reparative (conversion) therapy. The irony here is that the actor who played Otho – Glenn Shadix – was openly gay and as a teenager survived electroconvulsive aversion therapy in an unsuccessful attempt to become straight.

Now all of us friends of BrettCajun know it’s no crime to be a big ‘ol nelly queen. And of course we shouldn’t assume that just because someone appears to be the love child of an orgy between Charles Nelson Reilly, Liberace and Paul Lynde that they are also gay.

But from personal experience sometimes a strong hunch turns out to be true, and let’s just say Mr. Bachmann is a prime candidate for more than just being the First Lady. And as I mentioned to a friend recently, I’m fine with gays going into conversion therapy (which doesn’t work) or even running around thinking they’re straight – as long as they don’t attack the gays who are out and trying to do their own thing. But once you start to attack or convert the gays, the gloves are off. It always seems our worst enemies are the closet cases. These days most actual heterosexuals don’t give a shit about the gay anymore. If you don’t get my point, Dan Savage clarifies what I’m trying to say better than I do.

Anyway the Bachmanns also remind me of the Salahis. Both couples are so fake yet utterly convinced of their own realness.

Speaking of fantasies and sci-fi, I’ve been a bad nerd this summer and haven’t even seen either the new X-Men or Green Lantern movies. And I totally lose nerd points for not knowing who John Carter is, but the movie looks awesome. I also need to see the last Harry Potter movie, but am willing to wait until the crowd dies down. But have y’all seen how Neville Longbottom has turned out? He was the greasy awkward buck-toothed kid in the Harry Potter movies played by actor Matthew Lewis, who has turned out to be quite a handsome woofer. And I hear tell that his character is a hero at the end of the movie [Sorry for the spoiler! But I could be wrong on that fact…].

I’m dismayed somebody thinks they need to redo the John Carpenter classic sci-fi horror flick The Thing. This time the heroine is nowhere near as beardy as Kurt Russell was. But they appear to be trying to make up for that by putting woofy Joel Edgerton into the cast. We’ll see how cold CGI ranks to good ‘ol fashioned latex and gelatin goo – I’m betting on latex and goo. Anyway even though the 1982 movie version still scares the shit out of me, it’s nice to think of freezing polar conditions this time of year.

The weekend at Darth Jersey’s was fun. The Sith Lord of the Garden State has the wrap-up here. Highlights include completely eradicating a loving family of possums, seeing 4 young bucks, 1 drunk Jersey girl, and a super-hot Jersey Fresh farmer.

Tonight I’ll be running with the shadows of the night at the Pat Benatar and Neil Giraldo concert at the 930 Club. It’s going to be hot as hell inside but I hear they put on a good show.

It is a rare moment when activism is thrust onto a person who suddenly finds themselves in just the right time and place where opportunity offers them a chance to deliver a bold message that ultimately helps solve a problem. Think Erin Brockovich, Rachel Carson or Mahatma Ghandi.

But most of the time the hard work is done by a lot of passionate people following in the wake of such icons, or some other self-appointed leader. I’m not disparaging these people, it’s just the way things turn out most of the time. Most of the time activism is a lot of thankless mundane labor accomplished by hordes of faceless people who never see or seek fame.

But there are plenty of activists who think the fame and glory part of activism is an essential component of social change. These glory whores want to desperately live those moments captured in a documentary or famous Life magazine black and white photo. And they stage pointless acts of vandalism like this or this in the name of “anarchy.” Sorry kids, but that shit ain’t gonna fly with me. I’m no fan of HRC but dropping paint or glitter on people and property isn’t the way to do it.

I know HRC could use some fire in their belly, but until then go find your own angle to push and think up a more clever way to deliver your message. And make sure there’s actually a message in there somewhere. Your message should help solve a problem, not create one. I know you can do it because you’re gay and you have the super powers to make it so. More importantly, it’s about the message that helps solve the problem, not to promote the activist. Your transparent glory whoredom is showing young angertwinks, and it’s more disappointing than seeing our movement institutionalized as it has.

I am was having a difficult time finding clear, large, high-resolution images of rugged, bearded men drenched in beer. Oh and by the way congrats to the Bruins for their win. But you Canucks fans please don’t trash beautiful Vancouver! It’s a gem of a city, please keep it that way.

[ THANKS TO SHARKEYNY FOR THE NICE READER-SUBMITTED IMAGE OF RUGGED, BEARDED HOCKEY PLAYER DRENCHED IN BEER. PLZ SEND MORE THXBY ]

Anyway, if you didn’t know it already, GOP candidate for the United States of America Michele Bachmann is absolutely insane. Seriously please read this enlightening and thorough news article about her. Journalism is rarely so detailed with an analysis, but it talks about her bizarre behavior in 2005 where she was caught watching the scary homos at Pride from the safety of nearby bushes (scroll down to see the photo). While she has said nasty things about homos in the past, it’s that hiding in the bushes part that really gets me down. Here’s why:

As many of my regular readers know, I’m not the most optimistic person on the planet. But I am fairly optimistic about how others perceive us homosexuals. I believe with time and by actually meeting homosexuals, most people will come around to be on our side, or at least percieve us as human, which is all I’m asking for most of the time. I know this from lots of personal experience.

But to hide in the bushes and look in fear at us from a safe distance is a clear sign that Michele Bachmann does not want to engage with us, and is truly frightened of us. That to me is worse than any name-calling. At least when someone is calling us names they’re willing to try to communicate with us through speech, however hateful. But Bachmann keeps us at a safe distance and watches us as if we’re animals grazing out on the savannah or something. That really gets me down. She doesn’t even see us as human beings, and is clearly unwilling to even try to communicate with us. That’s more frightening to me than any skinhead screaming at me. At least the skinhead thinks I’ll understand what he’s saying. Bachmann is simply terrified of us.

I’m back from my short trip to Wisconsin. Of course while I was there I had more than my share of cheese curds, batterfried or otherwise:

I was also introduced to a culinary monstrosity even more fattening than cheese curds: poutine. It’s a French Canadian thing I guess, but it’s basically cheese curds and french fries served together slathered in gravy. I could not eat much of it I’ll have to admit, but am told the stuff is served in MacDonald’s from Toronto to Ottawa.

While I travelled to and from my hometown in Wisconsin I wore a Green Bay Packers tee-shirt. Whenever I wear this shirt in public people from Wisconsin come up to me and start talking to me, about random things. But in a friendly way of course. This happened 3 or more times on this trip and it’s what people from Wisconsin do. Sometimes doesn’t mean a thing. But it distrubs people on the East Coast, which is why so many people here think I’m talking to them because I want to steal their souls or skin them alive – at least that’s the look they give me when I go up and talk to them. Or maybe it’s because the only time people come up to talk to you in DC is to panhandle or get your signature for some nonprofit petition. But it’s just a cultural thing that I haven’t shaken that seems to be incompatible with socializing out here. In the future I will try to remember to not socialize with people so I don’t give them the impression that I am stalking them, and can only hope such suspicious east coast types will one day be thrown in a deep pit filled with friendly, drunk Shriners from Sheboygan for 24 hours or more.

Anyway, I checked out Wyalusing State Park with a friend from high school and did some birdwatching. We sometimes talked about random things, but that didn’t mean that we wanted to steal each others’ souls. It’s just what some people from Wisconsin do sometimes.

Wyalusing is located in southwest Wisconsin just south of Prairie du Chein, right at the confluence of the Wisconsin and Mississippi Rivers. It was real purdy:

That’s how everything looks in the area where I grew up. Until I saw some of the more southern and central Mississippi cities like Davenport or St. Louis, I just assumed the Mississippi looked like that everywhere. Further south the Mississippi becomes a working river, and is not as scenic as the Upper Mississippi National Wildlife Refuge where I grew up.

2011 must be the year for orioles, as I’d never seen so many. Lots of indigo buntings too. White pelicans were soaring in circles on the warm currents of air that came off the bluffs, and I captured this neato shot with my fancy schmancy new zoom camera:

The area is known for it’s Native American burial (effigy) mounds, which are easily mistaken for a buried septic tank, often built in the shapes of animals. Tee hee…here’s a sign for “Bear Mounds”!

>; )

Internet sensation Chris Crocker (“Leave Britney Alone!”) sagaciously explains why BrettCajun has such a problem with the Kurt Hummel character on Glee:

He raises may good points that are totally true about “straight acting” gays and why they’re so uncomfortable around “fem” gays. And I must again voice my belief that a lot of the “straight acting” and “masc” guys are putting on an act of their own. If you have to try to act in any kind of way – fem or masc – it’s lame. An act is an act and if you have to point out how butch you are it probably isn’t genuine.

Oh and here’s some superfem pop fans at the recent Kylie show in DC prepping for the show the only way they can and they’re ALL like Chris and Kurt!

I don’t know if this super-hot ginger Sean Patrick Davey is fem or butch or whatever but I don’t care. He’s unbelieveably hot and I even love his big ears.

Oh, and I’m sure you’ve heard they caught Osama bin Laden. Gotcha, fucker. My thoughts on his capture? Yeah sure there’s terrorists and unrest all over the world today but a little justice goes a long way. However, we gots money problems and as someone on Civ IV said “Never fight a land war in Asia” and we need to pull outta there. We simply cannot afford to be the world police right now.

But Pakistan you shady mother fuckers…oh I’m sure nobody there knew bin Laden was hiding there. Yeah right. For starters I’m pulling Sally Struthers out of your country. You’ll get no more tears from her again.

I used to work at Dairy Queen when I was in high school. I wish this guy had been my coworker:

But I wasn’t allowed to make cones because I could never master that perfect DQ cone tiered effect. My cones always leaned at awkward angles like the Tower of Pisa so I was only allowed to make burgers and Blizzards. I was told by a coworker who may have been pulling my leg that my boss Mr. Jones was Jim Jones‘ brother. I haven’t been able to confirm that though.

In related news, this weekend my friend BrettCajun apparently went to the biggest fempop idol performance of all time: LADY GAGA! Even I haven’t seen Lady Gaga perform live (although I did see her at Blowoff once). So because Brett stooped so low as to go to a gigantic fempop performance, that means he is a big ‘ol submissive fempop bottom.

So the big bad government shutdown did not happen. Although I was more stressed out about it than I realized. By Saturday I was kind of a mess, as work on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday was a series of maybes, what-ifs, it depends and various contingencies. I can tell you on good faith that the U.S. government probably lost 3 days of labor due to hand-wringing over the impending crisis. Calculate that loss on your own. Plus I was slated to staff an emergency position as another part of my job, but that didn’t happen either. And the uncertainty of the hot water heater at home added to the anxiety. We have a government and hot water now, all is better.

Thankfully the mentally ill folk from the Westboro Baptist Church/cult never made it to spew their foulness at Liz Taylor’s funeral as promised, possibly due to the tight security at the ceremony. Or perhaps the cultists couldn’t secure a plane ticket to show up in time before she was put into the ground (she converted to Judaism and had to be buried within 48 hours of her death)*.

Not that the Phelps cult would mind the negative attention if they had made it in time. They’ll take any attention they can get, and particularly crave threats of violence so they can perpetuate their victimhood and martyrdom – just like J.C., right?

And since they’ve started protesting at Iraq veteran funerals, the straight people are on to them now too, even though they’ve been tormenting gays for over a decade. We’re over it now and most of us are able to dismiss them as pathetic kooks.

But I think if they had made it to Liz Taylor’s funeral to protest some homo would have snapped and done something. She had done so much during such a hard time in our past, to besmirch her in death would have gone too far for some. This is all conjecture on my part. They’re gonna get theirs some day for sure, either through child protection services or somebody loosing their shit on them. Hopefully the poor brainwashed children within the family cult will have the resilience to recover by then. They seem to be America’s best known cult but I don’t know why there hasn’t been an intervention somewhere. I suppose if a government organization did then all the loonies’ accusations of government control would be affirmed and they’d just get crazier. It’s a frustrating and sad situation.

* I’m totally down with the Jewish 48-hour burial rule. If I become ruler of a continent and then die unexpectedly or due to assasination (likely), please, please don’t drag me around my nation’s capitol in a casket or put me on public display during a hot summer day. I remember when the whole gruesome Ronald Reagan display happened during a hot month (I forget which) in DC and I don’t even want to know what sort of biological activity was going on in that sweltering hot casket. Please bury me like a Jew – well within 48 hours of my death. Or even better get me cremated. NOBODY looks good embalmed!