The other day, as I reached for an emergency pack of plain M&Ms at my local convenience store, I could have sworn I heard a Snickers bar call me a fag.  At first I thought it was just my imagination, but in light of recent events, I now know that what I heard was true.  Snickers is a homophobic candy bar.  But it’s also a closeted gay one too.

Snickers even sounds like the name of a gay candy bar.  Hell, it sounds like the name of a gay sex act.   “They snickered AND on their first date too!” or “He enjoys to get snickers while driving his convertible down the Jersey Shore.”

And isn’t snickering something that gay people are supposed to do on a regular basis? “PLEASE!!! What is SHE thinking?!!!” the nelly queen snickered.

I don’t much care for Snickers, the candy bar.  It’s too meaty for my taste, too thick.  Plus, I don’t like to mix nuts with chocolate.  Who actively pursues eating peanuts anyway?  Almonds and cashews are much better.  No, give me a Three Musketeers bar filled with a whipped, cream filling.  Now THAT is a gay bar.  Or a Milky Way if you prefer something a tad more substantial.

Even the act of eating a candy bar is gay.  You’re basically fellating a black man’s severed penis.  You might as well be Jefferey Dahmer.  I guess that makes eating those mini Snickers bars not only cannibalistic but child abuse.

What gets me most upset about the recently pulled Snickers ad is that the “gay” guy Mr. T assaults is the stereotype of a gay man.  He’s wearing shorty-short yellow shorts and is swishing for God’s sake.  Even HE would get gay bashed in Chelsea.  Those “Chelsea boys” are in fact big strapping men with biceps the size of fuel-efficient automobiles.  I’d like to see Mr. T try to assault one of those guys.  Get some nuts?  Mr. T wouldn’t have any nuts left.

By getting its collective panties in a twist, the Human Rights Campaign (HRC) is basically promoting the stereotype of a gay man.  “Don’t hate us ’cause we’re swishy.”

“PLEASE!!!” the gay expat snickered.