Pride?

Well, here it is, Pride day or, as it seems to be officially known this year, Pride London.
Not that I’m one for a campaign or anything but, casting my mind back no too far, it was once called Gay Pride.
I would imagine that the Gay part of it has been let lapse so as to make it more “inclusive”.
My definition of inclusive, when used in conjunction with gay, means losing sight of the original concept so as to let in…….

1.Lesbians [who are gay anyway and were only self excluded [or couldn’t get in the door because of the chips on their shoulders]],
2.Transsexuals, whatever they are,
3.Transgender [errs], don’t know what they are either,
4.Bi-sexual, who are heterosexuals who have a bit of a perversion, now and again, for somebody of the same sex. You can probably guess that I don’t believe in bi-sexuality [think about it, if I had a shoe / boot fetish, it wouldn’t make me a cobbler, would it?].
5.Straight folks, or at least the Guardian reading type who think that because “some of my best friends are gay” that they are universally acceptable to any man who takes it up the shitter.
Well, count me out on all of the above.

[Bigoted rant approaching]

I hate lesbians. I don’t dislike what they do, like religion and its practices, I know it goes on but provided it doesn’t happen on the street and I don’t see it, I don’t care. Lesbians invariably want to be men except when it comes to kicking them out of the bar. No sooner have you got one by the scruff of the neck than they start squealing like a girl. [Last month I was at the sharp [literally] end of a bottle wielded by one of these men-women. I then had the honour of decorating her for her bravery with my best uppercut. She wanted to fight like a “man” so she was duly accommodated].
All this Trans-whatever, I just don’t know enough about it to rant and rave.
Bi-psuedos sorry, sexuals, already covered that one.
Straight folks. I’m so old that I cam recall the time when it was impossible to get past the clipboard nazi on the door at Heaven if they didn’t think that you were Gay.
Having done so and paid the requisite small fortune, the clientele within would be exclusively male. Not even a token female.
The rot started to set in when a small handful of wheedling mincers blagged their fag-hag into the place. Well, as sure as eggs is eggs, whereever you get straight women, you get straight men.
Straight men don’t dance, unless it’s at the family wedding, they just stand there cradling a pint and scowling at the poor doomed fags. That is unless they are the “some of my best friends are Gay” type.
Some of my friends are straight but my best friends are Gay. And if you were to inject the gay-friendly straight with a handy dose of sodium pentathol, you would get the same answer.
Just because what I do in the bedroom [and, occasionally, the public park / dark alley] is not considered to be just quite the norm, doesn’t mean that I have to involve all of my friends into a celebration of it. The more normal [straight] ones don’t have a Straight Pride Day and invite all of us degenerates.All this inclusiveness crap gets me down. The only bright spot on the horizon is the prospect of the Ku Klux Klan having a float in the Notting Hill Carnival.