I thought I was gay as I could possibly get. I mean, what with the orgies, the knitting, the cucumber and mud masks, and the general super-homosexuality—I would provide links to various posts detailing these and other illustrations of my entertaining if occasionally excessive fagginess, but I can’t work the new Blogger interface—I figured I’d gone as far as I could go.
I figured wrong.
On August 17, I will reach the zenith of my queerness; I will achieve, if you will, my gaypotheosis.
I’m taking the test to be certified as an aerobics instructor.
No need to crowd to kiss my hand or touch the hem of my robe; there’s enough of me for everybody to share.
I know this from experience.
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