Stop the Presses!

There’s no way Ricky Martin is gay. No way. I refuse to believe it. I mean, the guy is basically the epitome of machismo. Just look at him!

Gays don’t like motorcycles, that’s a commonly known fact.  Also, if he’s gay, then why is he hanging out at the beach with his male friend, hmm?  They’re obviously scoping out the hot chicks and nothing else.  They’re babe watching and definitely not being gay at the same time.  Just look for god’s sake!

Someone is making him say these things.  He’s probably being blackmailed.  I mean, the next thing you’re gonna tell me is Lance Bass or Clay Aiken or Elton John are gay.  Pssh.  C’mon, guys.  You’ve gotta wake up pretty early in the morning to pull on over on this guy.

I’m so shocked that I can’t even begin to explain my ridiculously high level of shock…ed…ness.  Yeah, shockedness.  So, in order to properly do so, here are some people who are almost as shocked as I am right now:

I don’t know what I’m going to do if it turns out Ricky Martin really is gay.  I mean, what am I going to do now if I want to live la vida loca?  If he really is gay, that phrase will automatically be stricken from the straight lexicon, and jump right into the gay one.  Along with words like “leather chaps”, “accessorize”, and “Twilight”, “livin’ la vida loca” will strictly be used by The Gays.  I mean, no one will ever be able to say they just wanna dance and live la vida loca again without their sexuality being questioned.  It’s a sad, sad day when you can’t just go hang out at the beach with your male friend and practice Greco-Roman wrestling while in speedos.

I think I’ll be ok as long as we never have a black President, and Sarah Palin never has a retarded child.