My friend Leasey told me today that she and her girlfriends are going to take me out “on the pull” to a place where repetitive beats are played and alcoholic drinks are served. She has ordered me not to wear my “gay trousers” lest the straight women think I am not interested in them. Apparently my gay trousers are one of several pairs of black ones I own and their gayness should be obvious to me. I have not worn the leather chaparajos since the unfortunate incident in Glasgow, so she can’t mean those, but she has promised to explain.
UPDATE: If anyone comments that they believe they too might have some gay trousers, but they can’t be sure because the garments are in the closet, it will now no longer be an original joke.
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When my friend Leasey took me out clubbing in Cambridge with her friends recently, they made a point of avoi […]
[…] n person. And he isn’t my date. He’s my gay-friend-who-isn’t. Apart from his trousers obviously. Sissy: He is not a real brown person. He is has been turned by Blair, Blunkett […]
I used to have a penchant for black 501s coupled with loud shirts. I was forever being hit upon by gay men, who on occasion would refuse to believe my telling them that I was straight. Some took the view that I was merely choosing an unnecessarily cruel way of saying no. A gay friend put me right on this in the end, but added something that still strikes me – that he usually assumed that any man who could string an intelligent sentence together was at least bi.
I’ve always told you, it has very little to do with your trousers and much to do with “so good he must be gay” mentality. Ergo: You are erudite, charming, witty, reasonably neat, well-groomed, dependable and treat all the women you know with a slightly mocking respect. Which means you’re probably gay. Why can’t you be a slob like all the normal blokes then?
laura dad wears gay trousers
I like the beard. It suits you
Thank you! Long time; no hear. I hope you’re well.