Physical activity had never been my bag. Gym class was abhorrent in my nascently gay youth. Sweating, competing, keeping score, knowing what a first down was, moving: they were all atrocities to me. You can imagine my horror when I became an adult, came out of the closet, and found out that one of the central tenets of homosexuality is that all gays have gym memberships. I protested to the governing board, of course, noting that I’d seen Death Becomes Her twenty times and I owned one of those blue HRC bumper stickers with the yellow equal sign even though I didn’t own a car. Unfortunately,
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Hahahaha - I have that sticker
