It hasn’t been the easiest road, all things considered. I mean, it’s taken a lot of strength and personal perseverance to stay on the Straight (and Narrow?) Path. When you take into account all the exposure I had this summer, it’s kind of unbelievable that I didn’t succumb to the Gaygenda.
In June my family kicked off summer with a trip to Disneyworld. As luck would have it, we arrived on the flagship of all nationally held
conversion celebration days–the Saturday of Gay Days. The Gays–who traveled from all over the country–must have been in cahoots with the Fairies at Disney (of course!) and used some kind of pixie dust to deaden our Straighty Senses. It was challenging to be sure which people were happy and which were “Happy.” With all their walking around, standing in lines, enjoying the attractions and smiling at everyone around, it was tricky to identify, let alone resist, the Ways of the Gays. But, fortunately, we were all able to stay strong. (You can read more about how my family survived Gay Days 2013 here.)
As summer continued on, we had put Disney and the Gays behind us. Hubbinator and I began looking forward to an anniversary trip. It had been a while since we had a chance to get away, just the two of us. Selecting a location was pretty easy: we both love good beer and great food, so we had decided to head to Portland, Oregon. That awesome city has more microbreweries than any other city in the world!!
Well, well, well.
You know what else Portland has a whole bunch of? No? Here’s a hint: The Gays. Little did we know at the time, Portland was named the 12th Gayest City in the U.S. in 2012 … this year it didn’t make the cut, but there were impassioned lobbies to have it reinstated on the list of Super Gay Cities because it’s still pretty darn gay, apparently. Interestingly enough, much like The Gays who had taken over Disneyworld, the LGBT population (a.k.a. GLBT … a.k.a. GBLT … a.k.a. Gay BLT; mmmmm, bacon. Yum! I love BLTs!! Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!! Wait!!! Hey! Did you see that?! The Gays distracted me with deliciousness! That must be part of their magic–now they’re using bacon as a euphemism for a Super Gay Sandwich! Geez, Louise. The Gays will stop at nothing to get to us Heteros!). So, where was I? Oh, yes. The Portland Gays not being so easily identified. It appeared that they ate food, drank good beer, and walked around the city like Hubbinator and me. I assumed that they were all over the place–being one of the most gaytastic cities in the nation. I was expecting to see something more Village People-esque around town. But, no. The Gays were super stealthy with their Bacon and Gaygenda.
After departing the (Port)Land of the Gays, we finished our trip in Seattle visiting my best friend from college and her family. I’ve known Chicky (her nickname) for 20 years. I’ve known that she’s a lesbian for about 19 years and 11 months. She is quite probably the most genuine person I know. She’s honest, kind, generous, thoughtful and smart. She’s grounded, well-rounded and funny. And somehow she’s a lesbian. I’ve always assumed that she’s an exception to the rule of What-The-Gays-Are-Like. Then again, I know that she’s been trying to turn me gay, ruin my marriage and lead children to a life of perversion and glitter–no, wait, that’s not a lesbian thing, is it??!–because the TV preachers tell me so. I mean, if I can’t trust Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell, then who can I trust? Amiright? Or amiright??
Well, there’s another little problem. Chicky’s wife. She’s awesome. Totally. Freaking. Awesome. And, somehow, she’s also a lesbian. It’s very strange. These two people are clearly Not-Your-Typical-Gays. I couldn’t find their How To Destroy Traditional Marriage pamphlets anywhere in the house. I also didn’t come across their literature on How To Bring Hurricanes, Tornadoes, and Any Other Destructive Weather Phenomena. Their two happy daughters are clearly evidence that they’re doing it all wrong. Obviously, having two moms was wreaking havoc on those girls. I could just hear their pain and suffering through all the laughing. And the smiling. Those poor, tortured girls … growing up in a house with
two loving parents a Mama and a Mommy. Oh, the confusion and horror of living in a Homo Sweet Home.
As even more evidence that The Gays are just out to cause damage and destruction everywhere they go, one of Chicky’s ex-girlfriends (whom I had met and spent time with on a past trip to Seattle) and her BFF (another lesbian … they travel in packs, or so I’ve heard) joined us for dinner. Oh, yes … I certainly don’t want to forget. There were two other Not Gays who joined us that evening–the fabulous Frugalista and her daughter. (Fun tidbit: Frugie is BFFs with Chicky’s Wife. So, if I’m doing my math correctly … Chicky and I are BFFs, Chicky’s Wife and Frugie are BFFs, Chicky and her Wife are married, therefore, ipso facto, Frugie and I are now married! See!!! I knew they were working some kind of Gay BLT Magic!!) We were Plagued By Gays. I’m sure all the neighbors were appalled by the sound of the ArmaGaydon. All the laughing. The cackling. The hooting. I’m sure there was a snort laugh in there somewhere. Oh, the humanity!
This summer started and ended with Gays Galore. It was Our Great Gay Adventure. Living it up during The Gays of Summer. Traveling with Gay Bookends. Somehow, some way, we were able to stay strong and resist The Great Gay Way.
It’s time to wrap this up though, because suddenly I’ve got a major craving for a bacon cheeseburger!!