'Homosexuals intimidate me- with spiralling helical curves in body movement, podium gyrating at ‘Pussy Foots’’, ‘Glitter Bits’’ or ‘The Ball-Bag Bop Bar’’ (or which ever fluro dive they decide to regulate/grace with there kinship/glam-elite). Its all about ascendancy in the ranks of ‘bulging package brigade’’- and they feign disinterest when ether you try talking to them, as if you’re not worthy of sharing there breathing space eve though there the ones whose breath smells of too many cocks.
They would probably counter this comment with the risqué quip ‘There is no such thing as too many cocks, darling!’’
Fuck off. Repeat that when you are a dried up queen with the corners of your mouth ripped to your earlobes and the arse to the back.''