It’s that time of year again, the time when I need to explain the images that seem to pop up all over the internet and on the covers of supermarket tabloids. Much is made of my yearly trips to the Caribbean or other tasty coastal regions with my fabulous and interesting traveling companion the Moroccan native Jonathan the Giraffe. Just because I might dabble from time to time in homoerotic acts, doesn’t mean I am a homosexual. Sure, there just aren’t too many images of me with female giraffes but let’s face it: giraffes male or female all look the same. In fact, the only reason you know I am a man-raffe is because I choose to identify myself as such by wearing a snappy v-neck sweater or the occasional blazer—and maybe that is my point. You people wouldn’t care for a moment if Jonathan would just wear that damn boa I bought for him last Valentines.
I am also a bit offended by the insinuation that there is something wrong with two male giraffes walking side by side along a tropical beach. If more males would take the time to intimately understand the men around them, I suggest the world would be a better more carefully decorated place. But to be honest, there is this thing I’ve got for giraffe tongues…it’s not just for harvesting leaves folks! I’ve got chills just thinking about it. Good thing I choose to wear a sweater.
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