owadays, queer teens have no idea how good they have it, with their lesbian-outfit Instagram accounts and their dreary homophobia movies and their JoJo Siwas (American dancer and singer). Back in my day (2003), finding something gay to be horny over was like navigating the video game . You’d have to run home from school and sit in front of the TV for hours waiting for the video to play on MTV just so you could get a sliver of gay, and that would be your only shot at seeing gay that whole day. No quietly streaming Netflix on your laptop in your room, no compilation video on YouTube. Just a single queerbait moment of the day with absolutely no idea when it would come or ability to plan for it. Just sit and wait for Britney and Madonna to flirt. , you have to go to the bathroom? What if you miss it? No, you will be fine, just go. You missed it. The flash of a moment where Britney pins Madonna against the wall and they almost kiss is gone. Sorry you ate too many snacks and got diarrhoea and blew past the only possible lesbianism you could find today. You died of dysentery. You missed the gay; try again tomorrow.
