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Dating in New York City – Holding Hans with Brian Hansbury: Twisted Tweed

Posted Monday, May 5th, 2008 at 5:35 pm by Brian in Social Bees. More in 10024

This week on Holding Hans, Brian counsels a young lady who has some seriously bizarre ultra-liberal parents.

Dear Brian,

My parents don’t like my boyfriend because he dresses like a Republican and they are super liberal. I try to tell them that he just likes blazers, but they refuse to accept him because they think that he’s a closet conservative. Help!

– Sarah L.

Dear Sarah L,

Are you sure your parents are just super liberal? I suspect they’re also retards. You might not want to let them boil water in the vicinity of small children. Has it occurred to your parent that they are exhibiting the type of small-mindedness and myopic thinking normally associated with Republicans? Perhaps you should tell them that. If that doesn’t work, you may want to consider divorcing them or arranging for them to be kidnapped in Thailand and framed with a drug trafficking rap. Given that they’re probably pot smoking hippies, that shouldn’t be too hard.

But if your ‘rents truly are Donkeys through and through, I have some recent life lessons whose pertinence might help me diagnose the sitch. It just so happens that since June of last year, I’ve been dressing like an uber-Wasp. There’s nothing I find more attractive than repressed New England girls, and they flock to a man in Nantucket Reds like flies to honey. I bring a chocolate lab to the mall with me and if she doesn’t paw a particular V-Neck sweater, I don’t buy it. Together, Dusty and I have bought argyle of all kinds, belts with whales and even a pair of those insane patchwork pants that J. Crew sells. Yet, the whole time I’m walking the back nine in my Sperry Top-Siders, I’m dreaming of gay marrriage, universal health care, and the salad days of affirmative action. Why, I’m more democratic than Optimum’s Triple Play. And I’m the very embodiment of the oxymoron your parents don’t understand.

My advice to you is to come to the Willie Nelson concert with me next weekend. I already invited your parents. Let me show them first hand how well a Republican looking fellow can roll a joint. I’ll light it with my inconsequential tax return. After they realize how un-Democratic they’ve been in their prejudices and what a cool guy I am, well, you’ll be that much closer to having a boyfriend your parents really get along with. Also, I’ll be your new boyfriend. I’m sorry I called your parents retarded, babe.


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