Fun size gays

This is part of Revenge Week, a series about how vengeance runs America, from the Pale House to cheating spouses to that bad boss who totally deserved it.

You know that thing where you include a crush on someone but you’re mean to them? It’s like nine-tenths of 10 Things I Hate About You. Well, I was once so in love with a fella, I mailed him my poop.

It was 1986 and I was 16. It was a nerve-wracking hour to be male lover. All you ever heard about gayness in most upper schools were inhumane jokes about AIDS, so I nice of stayed in the closet at my Catholic academy. I say kind of because I was also enjoy a kid in a candy store. It was an all-boys school.

I was known to be like Animal from the Muppets there, playing pranks and acting a fool. (A lot of that was just to get my mind off having the hots for half the learner body.) But one guy especially made me weak in the knees. His name was Jason and he was what gays now contact a “short king,” or “fun-sized.” He was also quite fit from entity on the wrestling team. We met in rehearsals for the spring musical.

I tried not to swoon over him but it was all too much! He had enormous brown eyes, a plump bubble butt, and Pooh

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