#crip fashion

[whatshouldwecallchronicillness]

When someone complements my wheelchair decorations...

[lextheydom]

Honestly I just want to pay someone to make me clothes like Grandma Aggie in Halloween Town,

and Kes in Star Trek Voyager minus the leggings and long sleeves bc I get hot due to the AUDHD bc I have huge bazooma boobs and I'm agender and I can't find a bra to fit me in all of Jacksonville, FL no this is not an exaggeration I haven't had a bra that fits in 4 years since Bryant's Bloomers closed on Park Street due to rent hikes bc of Covid. I've got who knows what size bazonga zongazongas maybe 28H prolly bigger bc no one can size me and I just want to live in either:

-flowey vaguely top clingy dresses with short sleeves that aren't too long so they don't tangle in my walker

-Jean/Cloth Overalls that aren't too heavy bc my shoulders and neck hurt all the time and they have to be ACTUALLY be big enough to go OVER my large breasts and not be too tight on top, also have some cute patterns, patches, colors, designs, fabrics

-Literally every single look of Kes's from Star Trek Voyager was a certified BANGER and I'll die on that hill. She slayed the game every day and the clingy dress with the interesting top piece edwardian sleeves, with the PUFFS like GIIIIIIRL go off I could NOT BELIEVE! I was gagged. I just can't do them long sleeves and leggings bc it's just too hot on this here planet Earth now mhmhmhm no okay not no more not with this ozone with this administration no ma'am. My tism be tisming when you try to put this body in long sleeves my Momma could not KEEP me in a jacket/sweater I would yank that shit off as SOON as her back was turned like YEET THIS BITCH EMPTY!

See this marvelous article where someone had done the amazing work of cataloging EVERY look worn by Kes on the show, thank you so much for your labour!!!!

https://www.manicpixiedust.com/kes-fashion-project-index/

So yeah those are my top three disabled agender/nonbinary/genderqueer pansexual fashion desires. Pls. I beg of those handy with the needle thread and sewing machine. Help me. I am in the hell hole that is Jacksonville, FL and I'm a size 20/22 266 lbs and struggle desperately to find something to put on that doesn't hurt my body. I'm less worried about the looks, more concerned with it aggravating my Chronic Migraines and my Chronic Fatigie Syndrome. I have so little energy, so little spoons to accomplish what I want in the day I don't want to have to spend an hour trying on clothes bc I put something on only to realize I can't wear it that day bc my body won't allow it bc all my clothes were purchased when I was still working, before I was what I like to call, 'fully disabled'. I want my wardrobe to be full of disability friendly clothing I can wear everyday, even on high pain days. I am housebound and on SSI Disablity due to my disabilities, and I'm super isolated bc of it. I'm an artist, and I love making jewelry, writing, reading, and fashion. I want to engage more with others yet I get so exhausted just getting dressed and checking the mail a lot of days.

Having disability friendly clothes would improve my life exponentially and open up so many doors for me. If anyone knows any brands or is a creator themselves, pls comment or share.

Note: (When I say 'fully disabled' I am referring to how I have had headaches all my life and started having chronic migraines when I was in the fifth grade, but did not get chronic fatigue syndrome and have to completely leave work until 2018).

[spearmint333]

The trash armor 🔥😤💯💪

The sticks on the sides are my crutches

Also yes there are knee braces buried under there

[only-knives]

as a poor punk cripple, it's hard for me to straddle the line between needing/wanting clothes and not wanting to be another cog in the fast fashion machine. i can't drive, i have no income, i'm "petite plus-size," and i have sensory issues... so thrifting isn't really ideal or possible a lot of the time. i really want it to be, because i love reusing things and getting things for cheap. but alas. i am simply too crippled and outside standard fashion sizes for it to be realistic.

so all i have left is to buy cheap things when i need them, thrift when i can, and wear my cheap clothes to death. and sometimes, i buy things when i want them, because... shocker, it makes sense to want things. unfortunately, making and upcycling things isn't really in my cards either. i do it sometimes, and the times i have done it have made me happy. but it's also put me in excruciating pain and takes ages just to do one tiny thing.

and you know what? i shouldn't have to push myself. it's okay if i want to do it sometimes, as long as i take care of myself after, but it's my body. i get to decide when i am willing to risk being in severe pain, debilitated by it for hours to days, and trigger the depression my disability causes me. it's my job to care for my own disabilities, and as such, as long as i'm making my fast-fashion choices as carefully as i can, no one has any right to gatekeep or demonize me for it.

i shouldn't have to explain to you why you should care more about one disabled person managing their excruciating pain than whether one disabled person buys a new pair of jeans or a cheap ass necklace every once in a while. maybe direct criticism where it belongs: the powers that force people to make decisions like this, and the people who refuse to be better about their consumption at all.

ableism and classism isn't punk - you need to realize these two oppressions are going to intersect and cause situations that aren't ideal, or traditionally considered punk. that extends beyond fashion, too. and if you're cpunk and not in this kinda situation, just be grateful it doesn't and leave the rest of us alone. or alternatively become friends with us and make us things - you might just get something back.

[vertebraedisarray]

shout out to the punks with anxiety who still steal from big corporations

[mousefists]

i finally cleaned my filthy mirror

[consumedcarcass]

old fliccs

[luv-killian]

can't sleep and i'm really thinking of kendrick lamar's half time performance. absolutely amazing, first. second, if u didn't like it, that's bc it was actually aimed at you🙃 now onto me yapping about it:)

as someone that wanted to major in fashion design, let me say this: the outfits were so so good. simple, but they proved a point. also, there was so much symbolism and political commentary that the outfits did not need to be all that (also lots of talent there but that's a discussion for another time). the colors, the fact that everyone had a different styling of their outfit but it was all still cohesive, kendrick's outfit, sza's outfit, samuel l jackson's outfit. it all ate. honestly, not much to say about the outfits outside of that and that i loved it bc most of my thoughts are centered around the performance itself

as a musician and wannabe artist: the whole thing was so thought through. you could tell kendrick was doing it to get a point across but it wasn't like 'oh he's just trying to prove a point' yk. the stage, the outfits, the choreography and formations, samuel l jackson as uncle sam and his commentary throughout. like, there was so much going on (not like chaotic or bad though) that all had a reason to be there and was all cohesive. and the sza feature omg wonderful. she's so beautiful and her voice just scratches such an itch in my brain. serena williams crip walking. kendrick's absolutely giddy smile when going "say drake." the censorship (which i was honestly expecting for the most part)

i could go on about this single performance actually and i hope we discuss it in my class that's about music as a political device :3. i wish i could yap more but i wanna watch it again so i can analyze it more and i should be asleep rn so the words aren't wording in my brain. but i'm hoping to get a chance soon to yap about it more:)

tldr: absolutely amazing everything about that performance, and as someone that was bored during usher's performance, was absolutely blown away/pos during this one

[librarycards]

I love the idea of utopias, because they’re sites of possibility. There’s a queer theorist named José Esteban Muñoz who talked about the idea of queerness as a horizon. It’s this notion that as long as heteronormativity is present, queerness is an ideality. We may never fully be queer, but we can feel this warm illumination of queerness on the horizon. I really think about that application as a crip horizon—elsewhere and elsewhen, as Muñoz would say, in which disability is not only imagined, but embraced and dwelled in. It’s a complicated horizon because there’s a diversity of disabled folks. There’s so many different ways of thinking about access and how those identities and lived experiences come together with a tenuous throughline to create a whole disability culture. The question is, what’s the culture that can be expressed in the future? The horizon represents a place that we don’t fully know or understand, but one where we can fully be ourselves. And fashion plays such an important part in imagining what that’s like. We as disabled folks are unruly and noncompliant. We don’t fit into a lot of the structures that have been imagined for only one type of person, that state you have to behave and act in certain ways in order to be part of society. But the idea of a horizon rejects the story of disability as having no place in the future. We’re never going to be at the horizon, just as we’ll never be ‘fully accessible.’ But we’re always moving toward it.

Sean Lee, for Cripping the Script.

[hornkerling]

As you wish, @jadesabre301

My fics for stray gods mostly come in sapphic, particularly Calliope/Persephone because they're so angry and messy and delightful and writing Calliope soothes my inner menace. The first I ever wrote was Kore Enterprises, filling in the missing scene of Persephone visiting Calliope's apartment.

I expore Calliope and Persephone first getting together in Firewater, which probably still has one of the better opening paragraphs I've managed recently.

Calliope is used to Persephone on the edges of things. A cautionary tale for late night drinks and the bluer days of late autumn, when the city parks are full of crows fighting over the night’s scraps amongst raw and jagged trees, their final leaves are just the shed skins of their livelier, younger selves. A fragile song through tiny bones.

I wrote You caught my voice and listened as a response to @kshaar's Earworm, which is such a good drabble istg. Everything they write is incredible, whether for stray gods or dragon age, you should read all of it. But Earworm was the one that had me seeing if I could remember enough Greek to mangle some Sappho. It's also, like most of my fics for these characters, full of extravagant eidolon lore.

I have one Calliope x Grace, Calliope x Persephone, eventual ot3 everyone lives AU called Sing all your questions to sleep, which was quite fun. Comes complete with a rant about The Symposium!

The two fics I'm probably the most proud of, however, are The seed that grows without the sun (complete) and Monsters of the old world (one chapter to go).

Monsters of the old world came about because Hephaestus's fate in the game haunts me. He is one of my favourite Greek gods, and because I'm me I was tangled up on the crip potential of it all, and also the idea of Medusa on a very particular rescue mission. I'm trying to close off the final chapter, but it keeps running away from me because I get caught up in the absolute mess that is Aphrodite's choices re: Venus. But it's nearly done!

Hephaestus is blowing glass the first time he hears about the snake-haired bitch in the compound. It is only training and muscle memory that stops him from swallowing and ruining this body’s throat, and frankly the body is built more for war machines drawn up in CAD than the construction of delicate, physical parts. But Hephaestus has always worked better with a prototype, and while you can take a smith, lock him in a server room with a wall of screens, and he’ll make do, he’s always preferred to bother his captors with these specific, ‘old fashioned’ demands. A workshop. Bronze and coal where they want radium. Glass blowing, when a single wrong move would fuck his lungs beyond repair. Even he’s got to live, and showing the bastards just how much their discards can do is some extra stolen joy. When Hephaestus has to pass on, the higher ups throw the infirmary at him. Why waste an able fighter on the crippled god? Hephaestus’s eidolon tends to lead to injury, and well—that path is a dark one. But he is sure the tales of Medusa’s arrival are something he’s dreamed up in a crucible, and it’s not till he’s in the compound’s refractory and a hooded, writhing figure is shoved into a chair opposite him that he believes it can be true. Medusa stares at him, eyes hectic and flaring in a single, surprised moment before she ducks her head, the snakes around her face extending flickering tongues into the air between them. Chains hold her arms at her sides, and a corporal slams a bowl down, glaring at Hephaestus as the known quantity. “You feed her,” he snaps. “Not like the snakes will get you.” For a moment, Hephaestus and Medusa, two who have not spoken in millennia and rarely even then, meet each other’s eyes in perfect accord, amazed that this child-human thinks snakes are the problem

Seed is...it's about Persephone meeting the woman she would become in the late 1940s. It's one of the most personal stories I have ever written, despite being in a time and place I have not lived.

If you read any of them, read this one.

“—I can help with that.” Chastity wipes sweat from her eyes and blinks at the woman leaning against her gate. She’s seen her around. Hard not to, when there’s only one good place for bread in the village—though if there’s any more rationing or prices go up again, she’ll have to start making that, too, and God only knows where she’ll find the flour.  But that’s future, and presently Chastity has a stocky, slouching stranger smiling at her, and she’s got a spade. And the spade's not covered in rust like the one Chastity found in Sal’s shed. Hers has an edge to it, and Chastity, a married woman for nearly a year and imagining it cutting through the dirt she’s barely managed to scatter, is pretty sure this is what lust feels like. Turns out, Sister Immaculata was wrong.

[crippled-peeper]

Morg i have encountered my first whiner

Crip friends block @delgado-master who believes abled people getting custom wheelchairs as fashion statements is an okay thing that will actually help disabled people instead of taking precious specialized resources and craftspeople and months of time and energy away from people who desperately need them. We have been having this conversation for weeks and I'm done. How do you cope with these idiots

That’s so absurd and ableist and angering. If someone doesn’t need a wheelchair what on earth possesses them to order custom wheelchair? Why do these people act like all mobility aids exist in a vacuum and that they can collect them like toys and it won’t ever affect anyone else? when other people who need them can’t even afford them or go into massive debt for it? when we can literally read their posts about how they’re totally “not” taking resources from us when they literally, measurably, are.

I’m trying to wrack my brain and understand the logic behind that. Treating mobility aids like they are props or part of an outfit instead of a device helps nobody. wheelchairs are so expensive already too. I don’t even have a custom wheelchair despite benefiting from using it, just a mass produced one. I wish I had the money to order one but I just don’t and likely won’t for months/years

Idk that shit just disgusts me so much. Definitely go and block this person. They already had me blocked which is hilarious to me

[self-loving-vampire]

“What I’m really calling for is something like tech Zionism,” he said, after comparing his movement to those started by the biblical Abraham, Jesus Christ, Joseph Smith (founder of Mormonism), Theodor Herzl (“spiritual father” of the state of Israel), and Lee Kuan Yew (former authoritarian ruler of Singapore). Balaji then revealed his shocking ideas for a tech-governed city where citizens loyal to tech companies would form a new political tribe clad in gray t-shirts. “And if you see another Gray on the street … you do the nod,” he said, during a four-hour talk on the Moment of Zen podcast. “You’re a fellow Gray.” The Grays’ shirts would feature “Bitcoin or Elon or other kinds of logos … Y Combinator is a good one for the city of San Francisco in particular.” Grays would also receive special ID cards providing access to exclusive, Gray-controlled sectors of the city. In addition, the Grays would make an alliance with the police department, funding weekly “policeman’s banquets” to win them over. “Grays should embrace the police, okay? All-in on the police,” said Srinivasan. “What does that mean? That’s, as I said, banquets. That means every policeman’s son, daughter, wife, cousin, you know, sibling, whatever, should get a job at a tech company in security.” In exchange for extra food and jobs, cops would pledge loyalty to the Grays. ... Everyone would be welcome at the Gray Pride march—everyone, that is, except the Blues. Srinivasan defines the Blue political tribe as the liberal voters he implies are responsible for the city’s problems. Blues will be banned from the Gray-controlled zones, said Balaji, unlike Republicans (“Reds”). “Reds should be welcomed there, and people should wear their tribal colors,” said Srinivasan, who compared his color-coded apartheid system to the Bloods vs. Crips gang rivalry. “No Blues should be welcomed there.” While the Blues would be excluded, they would not be forgotten. Srinivasan imagines public screenings of anti-Blue propaganda films: “In addition to celebrating Gray and celebrating Red, you should have movies shown about Blue abuses.… There should be lots of stories about what Blues are doing that is bad.” Balaji goes on—and on. The Grays will rename city streets after tech figures and erect public monuments to memorialize the alleged horrors of progressive Democratic governance. Corporate logos and signs will fill the skyline to signify Gray dominance of the city. “Ethnically cleanse,” he said at one point, summing up his idea for a city purged of Blues (this, he says, will prevent Blues from ethnically cleansing the Grays first). The idea, he said, is to do to San Francisco what Musk did to Twitter. “Elon, in sort of classic Gray fashion ... captures Twitter and then, at one stroke, wipes out millions of Blues’ status by wiping out the Blue Checks,” he said. “Another stroke … [he] renames Twitter as X, showing that he has true control, and it’s his vehicle, and that the old regime isn’t going to be restored.”

To be expected from libertarians that they're more tolerant of conservatives, cops, and fascists than progressives.

[siremasterlawrence]

Moonlight On The High Seas

Leon Wild is a pirate on the high seas of the Atlantic Ocean well known for his bloody ire, harsh attitude and corruption consuming the world in dramatic fashion of horrific odds scenes.

He stood proud on his pirate ship using his binocular telescope reaching for it in his coat pocket he yanks it out elongating it to full form and places it on his eyes as he stares ahead on him.

Staring in to the see he can see the moon in all its glory the moonlight dances across the dark blue sea delicately free flowing for all to see and he is mesmerized unable to look away.

He is immobile at this point frozen I place his eyes growing a bit dim getting narrow he is starting to peer down seeing something very strange in the sea a wave of hand from in the ocean.

He is lost at the sight of a started looking boi well odd to him flowing in extremely high and fast speeds under the ocean as he flips upward and leaps in to the air then landing in to the ocean.

He dips down descending just a bit with his fin in the air it swings back and forth right in front of his eyes Captain Wild is in a deep like state catching his eyes their is magical glow to it.

The Captain’s eyes are now glued to the sea creature he walks forward ignoring the call of his crew closer and closer to get edge of the boat the sea man smiles so brightly at him.

He calls him using his hand to urge him to the edge of the boat he walks forward ever so closer to him and he falls absolutely in a state of love and pleasure to fully consume him.

The water suddenly rises up from the ocean in to the sky it floats in an encircling pattern on and around him changing into a colorful multiracial of arrays of covers to wave him on.

“Captain! Captain NO!” The crew screams as they race to his side trying to hold him back.

“I have to walk to him, I must be with him.” He begins to murmur a bit to himself but it only grows louder.

The crew is frighten for his life arranging on all four sides of him as they try to push him propelling him back.

Captain launches them back continuing to move to the only person that matters to him his true leader.

“Captain resist”

“Please wait for me”

“WAIT”

“Yes! I am on my way “

“Here I go”

He strips off his clothes bathing in the white light of the moon taking a plunge into the ocean and the mermaid takes his hand as they swim away.

“Yes, enter in to the void be like your ex Captain.”

The end

Debauchery Of The Night

It is a cool crips winter night in the darkness

with the air swirling as people enter the Lord of the manors Prince Leon sitting on a table awaiting the change that is happening all over the world.

He has no idea I am the young man who is bringing the massive mammoth of a wave that has brought down all of the last of the royal families and their connections in our existence.

The great hall soon fills up to the brim of the wall covering the area radius wall to wall in a great fan fair of excitement to meet the Prince himself enters with a power radiating from him.

He hops onto the chair sliding onto the main table in the great hall he starts to do a slow sweet dance so sexy he feels himself grow more confident with himself he lifts his pale hands in the air.

He pumps his fist in the air signaling for the event to commence as the trumpets sound loudly blaring through the window the whole entirety of the country shouts uniting in his and their downfall.

A few miserable hours earlier people were at work trudging around doing their daily jobs and activities exhausted from the grind of simplicity and complexes of what we truly experiment.

Barrels of lights hit including the spotlight

from the sky roof shining down on him as he is now given an aura of golden glow making him look all saintly because he is indeed a devil.

He hops off the dinner table dancing across the room as the spotlight hits him yet again as he attracts people to swoon through the hall the music addictive quickly swooping them up.

A young man takes the stage of the great room in the state picking up a microphone he begins to speak informing the crowd to keep dancing and to listen without a care of the world.

“Hey Prince Andrew! Great Party! You forgot one thing.”

“I would love to give you a gift”

“Would you like it?”

“Bring it on! Bring it on”

“Everyone silence! In three…two…one”

“Drop that shit down”

“Hell yeah!”

“That is glorious”

“Magical! What a beautiful sensation”

“By the way this is for one night only”

“The moon is being roped to you “

“The cracks, the lines all a sight to behold”

“Worthy of a king”

“Indeed”

“Sure you concur”

“What are you thinking?”

“I….i….why can’t I…..hahaha”

“Because you miserable oaf! I you met the orb of doom”

“Enjoy your final thoughts”

“The fog is eclipsing it all”

“Infact all you can do it be him”

“The dumb party animal”

“Everyones favorite Prince”

“A joke”

“This my kingdom now”

The end

[otakubimbo]

Throat Goat

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Face Fucking Fingering, Profanity, No Plot , Oral (m! & f! recieving) Not a single OUNCE of fluff DID NOT PROOFREAD summary: There is literally no plot to this, just shameless sexual interactions Day 2: Face Fucking

The moan that escaped your lips could have made him cum right then. Satoru was in his favorite place, between your legs, devouring you. His tongue moved skillfully between your slit and circling around your clit.

“Fuck Satoru.” You moaned, fingers flexing beside you unable to grab onto his hair because your hands were pinned tightly to your side by the strongest sorcerer. There was no way your body could take another orgasm, but you were reaching your sixth. “ mmm. Too much baby, too much”

He chuckles into your pussy which stimulates you even more, “But you taste too good to stop, let me enough my meal.”

Even that mere pause didn’t give you enough time to catch your panting breaths before he was back devouring you. Your breath hitches and back arched as he continued to suck on your clit, sliding two of his long strong fingers into your center. His fingers worked magic in you and with the combination of his mouth, the sounds coming from your throat could only be described as incoherent animalistic noises. Your acrylics were holding on to his roots for dear life the way he was making your body quake.

Satoru could feel the way that your tight wet walls were squeezing and sucking his fingers in, you tell for an upcoming orgasm. He freed your crip from his hair, face moving from your core to look at your sex drunk face. You were so gorgeous to him, his dick pulsating at the sight of your eyes practically rolled back into your head, lower lip about to split from how hard you’re biting on it.

“Oh my pretty girl.” He cooed as his thumb went to circling around your clit as his other hand gently pressed on your lower stomach. “Give daddy one more princess, I know you can. Cum for daddy, be a good girl for me.”

And like the good girl you were, you came and you came hard. Your body shook violently as you squirted all over his hand. You were spent from so many multiple orgasms. Satoru chuckles darkly at you, standing up by the bed, pants already down. You couldn’t even look up to see what he was doing.

“We aren’t even close to done, pretty girl. Now it’s time to return the favor.”

His large hands grab your legs dragging you to the end of the bed then turning you around so that your head hangs slightly off it.  

“Open” He commanded, and your mouth reflexively obeyed without a second thought. In true Satoru fashion, he didn’t hesitate to slam his dick straight into your open mouth. Instantly you gag with the force entrance hitting immediately the back of your throat. You held back your instincts as he violated your mouth, his hands on your shoulders to fuck your face harder.

“Fuck yes princess. You take me so well. I love seeing my dick in your pretty mouth.”

His praises made your moan, throat vibrates his dick which makes him rut into your mouth. You do your best to take him and meet his thrusts with your sucks attempting to massage the bottom with your tongue. The pace he set himself was aggressive and hard to keep up with, his balls smacking against your face.

One of Satoru’s hands moves to your breast and molds the flesh under his hand, pulling more moans out of you which just encourages him more. He pitched and pulled at your nipple, fucking your mouth relentlessly.

“Princess.” His voice strained. “I’m cum, okay, and you better swallow every drop.”

With the way his dick was so far down your throat you had no other choice but to swallow all of him. You barely understood how you were able to breathe with how deep he was and how aggressive his pace was, but you moaned in understanding.

“Fuck. Yes. Princess.” His thrusts were impossibly deeper and violent as you well his dick pulse, his sign of coming to his own peak. With one hand still on your tit, another grabs you by you by your throat. A few last thrusts into your mouth and he’s spilling down your throat spasming into you. He stops thrusting which gives you the opportunity to swirl your tongue around his leaking member as you swallow all of him. He squeezes on your throat, overstimulated , getting you to stop and then slowly pulls out of your mouth. You turn over, smirking at him, licking the rest of him off your lips. His dick starts to come back alive again at the sight of that. He grabs you by the shoulders pushing you back on the bed.

“Oh we aren’t even close to done, princess.”

[sirenascelestiales]

sirenascelestiales Name's illy, about 30, usa TAGS: // architecture // art // autumn // black and white photography // blue // books // celestial motifs // coffee // the dream // dreamy // fashion // films // food // hearts // i don't even go here // interiors // jewelry // kindness // life // love // mermaids // memes // moodboards // music // news // parallels // pen pals // people // pink // purple // photography // places // poetry // pretty things // quotes // reading recs // resources // sculptures // tea // text // tv // us politics // idk how to tag this // winter // words // MORE SPECIFICALLY: asoiaf // game of thrones // house of the dragon // abbott elementary // atla (animated OG) // bridgerton // chappell roan // a discovery of witches (books and show) // florence + the machine // hozier // the good place // heartstopper // his dark materials // the hunger games // the ballad of songbirds and snakes // interview with the vampire (amc) // pride & prejudice (2005) // shadow and bone // six of crows // the cemetery of forgotten books Some charitable resources here and below:

Remember to do your daily clicks

You can donate to Gaza Funds or Sudan Funds

Donate - Connecting Gaza (esims) Crips for eSims for Gaza

Palestine Children's Relief Fund

[enbyzombies2]

I was sitting at brunch with a friend of mine. She said, “Greg, can I ask you a personal question?” and I said, “Sure,” because you know, I’m very open that way. She said, “Is the reason that you’re gay due to the fact that you’re crippled and you can’t get lucky with women, so you had no other choice but to sleep with men for sex? You know, I was just wondering.” I looked at her and was like: “Are you reading my mind? I was just thinking about that! Yes, that is exactly the reason I sleep with men. It’s a sad story, my life. You see, underneath it all I’m actually a heterosexual man, but because of my unfortunate, grotesque disfigurement I was shunned by women and polite society and forced into the depravity of the underground world of man-to-man sex. I never much cared for sucking dick, but if I wanted any action I had better get used to it . . . and all the while, in my chest beat the heart of a broken man.” My friend’s like: “That’s nice, Greg. Can you pass the butter?” I explained to her that it was a matter of economics and weighing my options at the time. Should I waste my money on expensive female prostitutes or be gay? Instead of spending my money on expensive hookers, I found I could get free sex from gay men who had a discriminating eye for fashion, but not for sexual partners. I decided that being gay was cheaper, but I had no idea about the hidden costs: the parades, the clothes, the expensive party drugs . . . not to mention the apartment in Chelsea, a pretty daunting political agenda, and the painful anal shenanigans. Ouch! I never wanted to be gay. I tried to fight it, but soon I found I’d developed a strange addiction to crack . . . a different kind of crack. You know, the sacrifices that the disabled have to make in this country today because of lack of acceptance are unbelievable! If you’re disabled, don’t make the same mistakes I did. Don’t let this happen to you. That’s why I started my own foundation called “Fuck the Disabled.” So if you’re a woman eighteen to thirty-five and you would like to “Fuck the Disabled,” call us at 212-DIS-ABLE.

Are you attracted to subservient men? Well, crippled guys can barely stand up. Have you had bizarre sexual fantasies involving a midget or several midgets? We can help. And you know what they say about mentally retarded men? Small intellect, big . . . you know what I’m talking about. So call us: 212-DIS-ABLE. Fuck the Disabled to keep the disabled from turning gay.

—Queer Crips; Disabled Gay Men and Their Stories, edited by Bob Guter and John T. Killacky