in bed with the straights
Two things today. Firstly, this caught my eye. Yes, I know it’s a bit rich for the likes of me to give a published writer a hard time, but, really, is there a point to this piece? From what I can see, it seems to go like this:
- We always wanted ‘civil partnerships’ / ‘gay marriage’ / ‘whatever.’
- But then, when we realised we were actually going to get it, we began to worry that maybe what made us different was a good thing, and, anyway, the straights would never buy it.
- Then we got it, we realised that, perhaps, we’d never been all that ‘different’ to begin with - some of us want to get married, and some don’t (ooh, how like the straights of my acquiantance, vb)Â - and, worse, the straights bought it, and were keen for us to be happy.
- So, as a result of all this confusion, there are still many gay men going out to saunas (saunae?) and sex clubs, and having NSA sex (ooh, how like the straights of my acquiantance, vb), and, really, it’s not such a good thing.
- Except, it is a good thing, and we’re glad we have the opportunity.
What. The. Fuck??? I could write better than that with one eye on ‘Grand Designs‘ on T4. And, to be frank, lately, it’s been hard to do anything chez Valley-Boyz, without having one eye on ‘Grand Designs’ on T4, since D seems to have developed an unhealthy obsession with the TV show about people who buy, say, a disused slurry pit in Arsehole-on-the-ooze, and, with the help of a couple of local stone masons, an architect (who’s possibly a stoned mason), and a Polish navvy, turn it into a brick-perfect reproduction of the Taj Mahal. Honestly, one of these days I’m going to get home to discover he’s levelled the house and we’re living in a caravan whilst we construct the Hanging Gardens of Crawley on the site.
But back to the piece linked to above: I can ramble with the best. I just don’t get paid for it.
QED, I think.