

Oh man, I'll never forget the moment I got gay. December of '84 it was. I was just a regular garden variety heterosexual toddler, excited about this thing called "Christmas" I'd been hearing so much about in the six months I'd been able to understand human words. I knew it was going to be good. Maybe I'd get that Diaper Studz™ Baby Jonathan Taylor Thomas pin-up calendar I'd been (literally) drooling over! Oh man, I'd totally like to get to baby-first-base* with that guy. Oh man, being a straight baby was amazing. But then...then came the caroling.

As my family and neighbors trilled the words, "Don we now our gay apparel," it hit me, gayly, like gay lightning. GAY. I SHOULD BE GAY. Upon hearing the word "gay," my heterosexuality broke and fell from my being in great sheets like a melting glacier. I was gay now. The gayest. I couldn't wait to get older and, uh, touch women! Or whatever it is gay people do. I don't know—I'm just a baby! A gay baby.


Oh, wait, what? I'm still hetero? That didn't happen? To literally anyone goddamn ever in the history of figgy pudding? Yeah duh fucking duh fucking uuuuuuuugggghhhhhhhh.

Despite fact that "gay" is not a slur, everyone knows what "gay" means in the context of "Deck the Halls," and being in close proximity to the word "gay" will not turn your little children into little gay guys (not that it would matter if it did, but that would be weird as balls), the Hallmark corporation went ahead and corrected "gay" to "fun" on one of this season's Christmas ornaments.

You know, so nobody would get the wrong idea.






"Yeah, uh, we wouldn't want people to think it was like a gay ornament. For gays. It's not. This bejeweled Christmas sweater comic-sans tree ornament is HETERO AS FUCK."


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