the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: homosexuality

My Visit to the Bachmann’s Therapy Office

I’ve been feeling a little depressed lately, so last week, I decided to go see a therapist.  I read about a new therapy office that recently opened, and it was getting a lot of publicity, so I decided to take the bus over there for a meet-and-greet.

The waiting room was well-appointed, although the magazine selection was rather odd – Highlights for Homeschooled Christian Children, Modern Church Decor, Good Housekeeping, and issues of Playboys from 1968.

After a brief wait, I was called in, where I sat in a hard leather chair across from the therapist, a dapper young gentleman in his early thirties.  His name was Dr. Josephs. We exchanged a few pleasantries.

Now, I should tell you that at the time of this visit, I didn’t know much about this “Bachmann & Associates” clinic (read more here), other than it being a therapy office owned by presidential candidate Rep. Michele Bachmann and her husband Marcus.  I hadn’t been listening to the news much, too busy trying to decipher the new Google+ social media app.  But it didn’t take me long to realize that this clinic had a unique method of therapy —

“So, tell me, Neil,” said the kind-faced Dr. Josephs, “What seems to be bothering you?”

“I feel out of lately.” I replied, rather sadly. “Like I’m not my true self.  I can’t motivate myself.  I just want to sit in bed all day, mope, and eat Doritos.”

“You realize that God created our eyes so we can enjoy the bodies of beautiful women.”

“Huh?  Well, uh, yeah.  I guess so.  Anyway, I’m very confused about the direction of my life…”

“I assume you like women and their bodies, no?  Like in photographs of beautiful women?”

“Wait a minute.  Have you been looking at my instagram photos?”

“I see.  Do you also like taking photos of men?”

“Sometimes.  But anyway, I like to say I am a “writer,” but what does that really mean if I don’t feel successful…”

“Perhaps your feelings of depression come from your inner self’s own disgust at your abomination with your photographs.”

“Oh man, not again. I’m not going to ask for permission every time I take every photo!”

“Have you read the Bible? The Christian Bible?”

I’ve read the Bible. But I’m not really sure what this has to do with my depression. And I’m Jewish.  Maybe that has something to do with the guilty feelings about my marriage…”

“You’re Jewish?! And you take photos of men masturbating!”

“What are you talking about? I never said I take pictures of men masturbating.  I’m talking about my marriage and the anxiety over my future…”

“But you do think about men when you masturbate? Right? Young. hunky men, with hairless chests and arms of steel?”

“Is this what they call cognitive therapy?”

“Do you find any men attractive?”

“Well, I don’t know.  I used to think Denzel Washington was attractive.  And Mel Gibson, before… you know, he turned out to be a jerk.”

“Attractive as in you would love to feel their bodies next to yours?”

“Nah.  Just that they were in good shape.  Made me want to do push-ups.”

“Have you ever slept with a black man?”

“I’ve never slept with any man.”


“OK, once in college, I shared a bed in Las Vegas with a friend because there were five of us in the room and it was disgusting because he farted all night.”

“Homosexuality is a crime against nature. You must stop being gay. You must be cured. Stop it! Stop it! Stop being gay!”

“I’m not gay!”

“Praise the Lord. My therapy worked. That will be $300. Please pay on the way out. Thank you.”

It is a week later. While the methods of therapy at this clinic were untraditional, I do feel a lot more happier, so I can definitely recommend Bachmann and Associates for all of your therapy needs.

Truth Quotient to Avoid Lawsuit:  5% (the instagram and the need for therapy)

Keep Those Jerks Gay!

I am furious at Walmart. Livid. Let me explain.

I’m not having an easy time lately. I’m like a wounded animal away from Sophia. Yesterday, I went to the dentist, and arrived too early, so I had to sit in the waiting room for an hour and read the office’s collection of Cosmo magazines.

The trouble began with the hygienist, Natalya (another Russian chick! what is it with these Russian women?!). As she cleared my plaque, I looked into her eyes, which wasn’t difficult since the rest of her face was covered with a gauze-like mask, so I could ONLY see her eyes, and as I gazed into those watery pools of Russian soul, I wondered if she had read the same Cosmo that I just had in the waiting room.

“I wonder if her va-jay-jay is as untamed as the Siberian forest?” I said to myself.

During my wait for her, I perused much more than this one article. I also enjoyed a tutorial on how to best make love on your washing machine.

Coincidentally, washing machines had been on my mind lately, ever since I went to this mommyblogger-type Whirlpool-Maytag luncheon in Manhattan two weeks ago (I was invited! Why?!) , which I completely forgot to blog about until now.

One of the highlights of the afternoon was seeing this $2000 Whirpool washer that came with an included USB cord in the back (Twitter during the wash?).  Imagine the kinky stuff you could do with the Cosmo washing machine sex technique in combination with the USB cord. I can only imagine what is going to be on Facebook in the future.

Before you get too upset with me with the direction of this post, let me assure you that my mind is not only filled with lurid fantasies about unshaven pussies and front loading washers, although there is some funny double entendre there somewhere.

No, I also think about love. I miss being in love. Playing cards with Sophia. Even fighting over doing the dishes. But I need to be careful not to fall in love again too quickly. But that will come. I will be patient. I look to the future with optimism. I don’t need to rush. There are always women out there for me. Wonderful women.  Despite my many insecurities, I feel confident that I could effectively compete with the other men out there looking for the same thing. I understand the concept of the survival of the fittest. Like a peacock, I am readying my multi-colored plume.

And now to Walmart.  It’s simple.

The management consists of a bunch of selfish pricks.  I just read this today — Walmart is starting to stock a dopey religious-oriented book which allegedly cures gays from their homosexuality.

What the f*ck is wrong with you people? I know who you are, Walmart management. You are suburban white men, married with children, living in nice white-picketed homes. But what about me?  Clearly you forgot what it is like to be single, trying to pick up a Marissa Tomei look-alike in a short skirt at the Museum of Modern Art cafeteria during the Matisse exhibit on a Sunday afternoon, not that I would know anything about that first hand!

You ever hear of UNFAIR COMPETITION? Do you think a guy like me has any freakin’ chance with a really SMOKING HOT BABE, when she can go out INSTEAD with a cultured good-looking guy who likes to cook, clean, decorate the house — and has great six-pack-abs to boot — YES, I’m talking about the formerly gay guy who has turned straight after reading your book!

I SAY — KEEP THOSE F**KING gay dudes GAY! Who needs those arrogant assholes with their designer clothes and references to classic American musicals vying for the same women as us, clueless straight guys?  It’s like the New York Yankees playing the New York Mets!  We have no chance in hell to win the game.  Especially in a city like New York.  They even have nicer apartments!  Give these gay guys the skill — and worse — THE URGE — to f*ck our women, and the rest of us might as well just kill ourselves.

STOP WALMART FROM TRYING TO CURE GAY MEN. We do NOT want them competing for our women!  Vote now!  Please, share this on Twitter and Facebook.  Change your avatar to Dark Blue. Wear Dark Blue tomorrow.  Wear Dark Blue to Help Us Protect Straight Men from Gay Men Turned Straight.

Disclaimer: This message has been approved by Straight Men of America Afraid that the Hot Chicks Might Like the Gay Dudes Better Than Us if They Were Cured of Their Homosexuality!

Some van that almost ran me over yesterday in McDonald’s parking lot.

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