Hot Professors “Partner” Turns Out To Just Be His Wife, And More Reasons I Hate Sleepy Joe’s America

By Max Bearinger

I thought I made the right choice. I thought I chose the lesser of two evils. 

He wore tight pants that hugged his supple butt cheeks and 45-year-old crotch. He called my analysis of 1984 “clever, intuitive, and wrong.” Oh, how many nights I fantasized about him reading me love stories and tenderly kissing my neck. I thought I had a chance I thought he might want me too because he had a “partner” and everyone knows that is code for “I’m a fag.”

But then tragedy struck when I went to his office hours and saw his family portraits on the desk. A fucking wife and two little shithead kids. He was a breeder in disguise, a wolf in sheep's clothing, a monster not in the closet. 

All of this is happening because I voted for Sleepy Joe. He has enabled his legions of brainless followers to dupe the queer community and steal away the little bliss we once had. Even worse, are the numerous other atrocities he has committed.  

I tried to buy a juul pod the other day and they only had 3% pods. Literally worse than don’t ask don’t tell, they might as well make sodomy illegal again. If I can’t suck down the cool taste of 5% nicotine after a long day of majoring in humanities, I might as well be deported. Maybe he wouldn’t be so sleepy all the time if his emphysema-riddled lungs had felt the buzz of a fresh pod. 

And don’t even get me started on what he’s done to our healthcare system. I went to urgent care when I twisted my ankle the other day. While the nice young man was wrapping my foot, I naturally began to find him attractive. The I get slammed with a $60 medical bill for the ace bandage. To add salt to the wound I asked the young not-real-doctor on a date and he said “sorry I have a partner.” I played it cool, asked to see a picture. He had a GODDAMN FUCKING GIRLFRIEND. Curse you sleepy joe and your liberal agenda, my blood and the blood of tens of other gay people is on your hands. 

As I sat in English class, writing my call to order to all other gay people to vote for Trump in 2024, Professor Sexy Pants decided now would be the perfect time to strike up a conversation. He leaned over my desk in the sensual way professors do, like a 6-year-old playing on an iPad, he smelled vaguely of Old Spice, and I noticed his fly was half zipped. He asked me what I was writing and I panicked and replied “the Communist Manifesto.” His eyes lit up, “well comrade why don’t you come to my place and we can talk communism all night?” 

I pulled up to his house, wearing my cutest little gay outfit, listening to “Red Scare so as to sound educated on all things communism. When I opened the door I saw it. There he was with a shaved head, rifle, little mustache, and full-on soldier outfit. His partner wasn’t his WIFE, they were neo-nazi soldiers hiding in the US for a STING operation!!! Anyways I still had sex with them but now I’m voting for the green party.