That bastion of masculinity, creepy policemen and P.E. teachers – the moustache. Looks so wrong, yet somehow it feels so cozy and right. Well, now you have the perfect opportunity to let that facial flourish relish as it always should’ve.
Because, somehow, the moustache is like a videogame power-up in the gay world. You’ll never quite be able to explain why, but it gets you more sex. Don’t question it, just accept it.
Photo: In Latte Veritas
They seemed like such an awesome idea when you were angrily listening to Korn and Sevendust during your university years, but the tribal tattoos which adorn your torso now look more akin to the scraps of a leather jacket which have melded with your skin.
Not to worry! You can now bandy around words like “inked”, “tatts” and “tradesman” in your online hookup profiles. Congratulations! What was once an outlet for your repressed sexuality has become a gateway to guaranteed horn and genital lice.
There’s a well-known stage most fellas in the closet arrive at in life: the sudden, explosive need to coat absolutely everything they wear – nay, they OWN – in either sequins or flannel. It’s all uphill from that point on!
These clothing styles are generally accompanied by an ongoing impersonation of the world’s most articulate lumberjack, or an animatronic pair of Kylie Minogue’s hotpants.
It’s permissable to switch between sequins and flannel once or twice in life, but only when accompanied by a dangerously volatile amount of weight gain/loss.
Photo: Louis Beche
We’ve all been in those awkward moments: a terrifying elevator ride where your stomach threatens to expel your lunchtime curry in the most vocal manner possible. You can try to hold it in, but it’ll still escape like a gaseous, nasty-streaked Houdini.
That’s where the awesomeness of being a homo comes into play. When you’ve deciphered that someone’s about to speak up about the nasty smell that’s joined you for the elevator ride, simply pipe up: “Hey, have I told you I’m gay?” Note how nobody cares about the fart anymore.
If the above method doesn’t work, and they already know you’re gay – just explain that they’ve witnessed a gay mating call.
Your regular community newspaper consists of dreary, recycled council news. Funding battles! Store openings! Shitty local theatre!
You’ll be glad to know that gay community newspapers are a delightful collection of writhing torsos advertising everything from cars to holidays. In fact, see that cover up there featuring a boxer? That’s promoting a story within the newspaper about homophobia in rural USA. You get the idea.
