The Trashy Fag

Fags love the beaches, forests, sand dunes, the hiking trails. FuelMix gets horny too – something about summer’s vibrancy, a hot day, a cool breeze, a smouldering stud. But a curious paradox has emerged in fags: avowed tree-huggers and nature lovers on one hand, prolific garbage spewers on the other.

FuelMix has been to a number of outdoor action areas in North America frequented by fags. Without exception, fags have an eye for location. The natural and carnal scenery is stunning. But why do fags leave a nonchalant trail of urban garbage behind them? It’s the usual fag accoutrements: cigarettes, condom wrappers, used condoms, breath mint and gum packets, bottles of lube, scrunched up Kleenex fast food boxes, bottled water and pop. You get the picture.

The answer is simple. The outdoors is just another drug to fags. A scenario universe of earth and man aromas punctuated with the condiments from an overpriced, immigrant-owned convenience store. Both the summer and the condiments have an expiry date. Exploit both while you still can.

How predictable that fags can’t see beyond their tan and their genitals. They scream for the right to cruise outdoors, at all times of day and night, but leave the place looking like a Haitian slum. FuelMix has often giggled at the sight of a fag dumping his load, then dumping his pockets, only to emerge from the bushes stomping his hiking boots and carefully wiping his feet before getting into a Yuppie brand car.

And these are the same fags who’ll swear that they’re not into dirty or unclean sex.

FuelMix suspects that the fag ethos of fuck ‘em and leave ‘em is also driving their cavalier attitude of environmental arrogance.

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