Transgender woman finds Jesus and becomes man. People lose their shit.

Antoine is a Lebanese guy who, for the past couple of years, was living his life as a transgender female called Tino.

But on February 26, Antoine took to his Facebook page to denounce transsexuality and publicly declare that with the help of religion, he is now a man.

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In the post, Antoine mentions that he was sexually molested as a child, lost his father at four years old, and could never understand why he felt uncomfortable with his body. He underwent plastic surgery, let his hair grow, and “drowned in an illusion”.

But it all changed when Antoine met a woman who told him: “Only Jesus can save you and erase everything”. He started reading the Bible and realized that it was wrong to change his looks and become a woman. Now he’s a “reborn person” filled with happiness, thanks to Jesus.

That’s when people collectively lost their shit.

Straight people and gay people.

Christians and atheists.

2-year-olds and 74-year-olds who involuntarily lost their shit 5 minutes before reading Antoine’s testimony, voluntarily lost their shit after reading it.

Stephanie is crying so hard she might be the reason why Beirut streets clog up whenever it drizzles.

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Ramy. Just. CAN’T.

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Pamela has so much respect for Antoine that she hashtagged it.

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David lost his shit. But he kept it short and sweet.

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Joyce found the perfect answer to “Can I get an Amen?”

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Amal can’t be tamed. She tells the Christian gays they shouldn’t fall in love with boys.

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Then there’s Joy.

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People lost their shit. And Antoine listened.

He thanked his supporters but also asked them to pray for gays, lesbians, freaks, and porn addicts.

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But it’s not all love.

Yara doesn’t get it.

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Translation: “He went from being a cocksucker with a wig to a cocksucker without a wig?”

 

Adib thinks it’s sad.

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Fuck gender. Elie lost his shit over bad English.

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Mark thinks Antoine is “sickening”. And not in a “YASSSS, bitch, werk” kind of way.

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Khaled is not having it. He even brings pedophile priests into this.

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Noora agrees. She’s afraid Antoine’s rebirth might encourage homophobia.

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In a 2011 interview with The Daily Star, Antoine identified as a woman.

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He teared up when remembering his childhood abuse.

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He wanted to live as a woman.

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The above picture is how I remember Antoine as “Tino”. I would be at Bardo and Bjork’s “Crystalline” song would come on… which only meant one thing. At any moment, “Tino” would jump on one of the tables with her sexy black mini dress and dance. And although that song is utterly horrible, I would look at her in amazement. It was inspiring how confident and free she was.

Back then, Tino would get hate from straight people and gay people. And today, as a he, he’s receiving hate from gay people. And maybe that’s the whole point.

But who knows?

Maybe Antoine is a woman who is repressing her true identity just to conform. Maybe Antoine really did find Jesus and now identifies as a man. Or maybe we should all just stop losing our shit whenever people choose a gender that’ll help them sleep better at night.

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Want more posts you can love, hate, or jerk off to?

There’s the good: 4AM

The bad: Groundhog Gay (NSFW)

The miserable: My Epic Grindr Fails

The borderline tragic: Black Sabbath

And the posts you write when you’re intoxicated: The ex of your ex is your next top

 

 

NSFW: طيابك يا صبي

Sitting on the ledge of the roof.
My legs wrapped around your waist.
The wolves are howling.
Beirut is silent.
That’s our now.

Smoke in the sky.
Stars in our eyes.
Beit Mery in our lungs.
Liquid in our courage.
Tomorrow is but an option.

Two dollars in our pockets.
A thousand possibilities.
One shot.
No repeats.
The clock says 12:20 am. And that’s where it stops.

“Can we stay here all night?”.
“Only if you…”.
A whisper in my left ear.
A moan begging for mercy.
There’s no pill involved. But this is ecstasy.

All the years we sinned.
All the shadows we chased.
If I die right now,
I would have lived.

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Listen to my interview on “Life in Beirut”

So I recently met with the cool Harry Darkins, journalist and producer at RFI, and chatted with him about gay life in Beirut, as part of the “Life In Beirut” series. Check out the interview below or on the RFI website:

http://www.english.rfi.fr/middle-east/20150407-life-Beirut-Lebanon-gay-LGBT

Spoiler alert: I say Lebanese Penal Code 543 instead of 534. Sorry, Helem. “543” just sounded better.

When There’s a Lesbian…

When there’s a gay guy, there’s drama.

But when there’s a lesbian, just duck, cause it’s a fucking RIOT!

I’ve witnessed two big fights in the past 9 months. Both at gay hangouts, both loud, and both produced by lesbians.

Let’s break it down…

Fight #1: It’s an “ex versus an ex” situation. Lesbian #1 pushes (or touches the face of) lesbian #2. Lesbian dating lesbian #1 (or lesbian #2, I’m not sure, this is total gossip and hearsay at this point) comes to the rescue, and the shit hits the fan. One of the lesbians in the lesbian #1 entourage or lesbian #2 entourage gets so turnt up and takes out a fucking razor blade and goes ape shit crazy. Usually, I see this scene on TV. But I’m seeing this shit happen right in front of me. So I’m like “Yaaaasssss bitch…CUT!” and stand on a bench to get a clearer view, while my scared friend tries to drag me inside the club. Two minutes later… the fight now involves like 12 lesbos and homos, all screaming. “Sharmoutaaaaaaaa”. “Kess emmikkkkk!”. “Ya loutehhhhhhh”. Yes, now it’s more than a lesbian fight; the gays were dragged into this mess too. Even a big muscular tall guy had his shirt ripped in half by one of those nasty lil hoes. Thankfully, the bar manager steps in and the fight gets dissipated. Bass ba3d shu?! Ya di3an…

Fight #2: Picture this. You arrive at a lesbian bar in Beirut. You don’t enter cause “shefna el jaw ouw sara7a there are no cute guys”. So you stay outside, sit on a table, and wait for your lesbian to finish doing her thing. Suddenly, a seemingly straight couple gets out of the club and starts fighting: “Ana eltellik badna nfell ya3ne badna nfell!!!! Eddemeh tashuffff!!!”. Then the club door opens and we see like 15 lesbians screaming at this guy like they’re auditioning for 300. They were smelling blood and almost chopped the guy’s dick off. Even the bouncer’s like “What the fuck do I do”? Fast forward to 10 minutes later and the party’s isn’t just over, there’s a threat of the police coming and doing some late night arrests. Basically, we had to leave our chill spot. Pffff… Total buzzkill.

I guess that’s the difference between us gays and lesbians. With gays, if you really want to hurt someone, you just call them ugly, “tante”, fat, small-dick. You know, the typically offensive clichés. I’ve been called all four. They all hurt like hell. Plus with gays, muscles are for showing off, not for actually putting them to the test.

I don’t know what’s the deal with lesbians taking it to the next level.

However, if I do want to fight a bitch, I know who I’m calling.

4 AM

I see us in a cheap restaurant bathroom at 5 am. You say: “Go inside and pee while you look at the floor.” I say: “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re drunk”. You jump around like a kid: “I’m serious. Do it. It’s very trippy”. You were totally right.

I see you at grandpa’s funeral. It was the first time I see you cry. I see me wanting to steal that pain from you. I see me failing.

I see me lying alone in your bed. Young, free, late for work. I hear some weird noise getting louder and louder, getting closer and closer towards the bedroom door. You enter holding a cake singing Happy Birthday.

I see you in your swimsuit, throwing up in the bathroom. I see me patting you on the back while drinking my 10th cup of tap water. I had never felt so alive.

I see us in bed. I see you telling me “I love you”. I see me smiling, not knowing what to say.

I see us hungover, sitting on a bench at Ain Mreisseh watching the sunrise. Knowing everything. And knowing nothing at all.

I see you telling me: “I wanted to drive the car through a wall so that we both die. I would rather do that than have a son who’s gay”. I see me believing you.

I see you in drag, changing your outfit every 5 minutes. I had never seen you more free.

I see me having a smoke on your balcony. You say: “I don’t believe in God, either”. On the outside, I gently nod. On the inside, I am ecstatic.

I see me having a bad trip in the bedroom, whirling around like a Sufi dervish. “If this is death, I beg you, I don’t want to die”, I screamed inside my head.

I see you outside Bardo. Kissing someone. You looked very happy.

I see a lettuce and a cabbage lying next to each other in a sad grocery store, and I burst out laughing. No people would think it’s hilarious but you and I. I see me almost texting you. Almost.

I see you naked. Eyes closed. Flesh rotting. I see me trying to look for you. I see me thinking to myself: “I don’t understand. Where is he?”. I lean over, kiss your cold skin, and never see you again.

I see me walking under the Eiffel Tower at midnight, nine hours before my flight back home. I see people screaming. I look up at the Tower and see the sparkling lights. I see myself thinking: “You might not know shit, but you’re on the right track, kid”.

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His Epic Grindr Fails

So my friend was visiting Lebanon from the States last month. He would tell you eating at Roadster and ZwZ were the highlights of his trip, but I also know he secretly enjoyed the many facepalm moments courtesy of Grindr.

His fails put mine to shame. “Waiter at Moulin D’or”? Epicness.

Enjoy, and keep sending your epic Grindr fails to therealshit11@gmail.com. Because remember, your fail can make a difference. Well, not really. But it’ll make someone LOL. And that’s almost as awesome.

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1114

As a gay kid, I used to feel like I was the only gay kid in the world. Heck, I used to feel like the only gay human being in the world. Well that’s until I saw other “gayer” and more flamboyant gay kids at school, but that’s another story.

Sorry, I digress…

Nowadays, I feel like there are so many gay people around that I’m just another number. I don’t feel as special. And you know what? It hurts.

But again, I digress.

So ever since re-installing my Grindr Xtra (yes, I have Grindr Xtra and I’m not afraid to say it or use it) in mid-October, I’ve chatted with 1114 guys. That’s 1114 guys in 3 months! People, that’s one thousand one hundred and fourteen guys in 90 days. That’s an average of 12.37 guys for each of those 90 days. Now I’m sure there are many of you out there with higher numbers, but still, it amazes me.

First of all, I didn’t know there were this many gay people in the country. And that’s coming from a gay guy.

Second of all… no words, really. Let’s just leave it at that.

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