Gayer Than a Stack of Lavender Pancakes

When a local emporium, what should know better, displays a book like what you see there to your right, the public of course gets to take a look at it, and I gets to comment on it.

Back when I was young, when you wanted to confuse people about which sex you were seeking to be, this was done by the expedient of guys growing their hair out in the manner of hippies, so that people could say “is that a guy or a girl?” But it was frequently just an available jab. People usually knew.

But since that time we have really upped our game on the androgynous front, and this has had two effects. First, people really don’t know anymore, and second, they are afraid to ask because hate is not a family value. They don’t want to get an answer to their question down at the Happy Joy Suitable Thoughts Reeducation Center.

Let us be frank, you and I. The central vibe of this generation is gayer than a dusky pink Anglican surplice. This whole thing is gayer than a stack of lavender pancakes. Somebody needs to tell the authorities that if we push this androgyny thing any further we are going to find the Ninth Circuit Court ice dancing to Judy Garland tunes.

Now I know that somebody is going to say that I have gone too far this time. Sometimes a woman with too much lipstick is just a woman with too much lipstick. Stop jumping to conclusions just because it could be a dude. On this account of things, I have apparently been traumatized by ostensible evangelicals trying to get permits to film episodes of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy in the streets of the New Jerusalem. I have been scarred by people trying to establish the gay mojo as the new creative center of the reformation. Because such unfortunate incidents have given me the hetero-fantods, as a result I have really started to [Breaking news! We interrupt this post to announce that a biological male has won the world championship in women’s cycling. The silver and bronze winners, both of them actual women, stood on the risers, smiling gamely, apparently wondering when the demented people running the whole world will realize that something is amiss. Now back to our regularly scheduled post] imagine things.