In my chronicle of my gay day yesterday, I clean forget the Gayest Thing of All: I mixed up a sponge for bread baking yesterday evening. I set it on the stovetop to work, and then forgot all about it. Until, that is, time came for me to knock it back and add more flour a moment ago, for another rising.So, please add to yesterday's My Gay Day chronicle the following entry:
Mixed up sponge to bake bread: Very gay. Perhaps the gayest thing of all I did all day yesterday. Well, there was the B-E-D thing after I mixed the sponge.
My ability completely to forget that activity convinces me that I have really chosen the gay lifestyle with a vengeance. So that's where it ends up, once you make that momentous choice: one minute, you're sitting belching and chugging beer as you scratch your crotch; in front of the t.v.; the next, you're in the kitchen whipping up flour, salt, water, and yeast, and totally oblivious to what you're doing.
One minute, you're line-dancing in cowboy boots. The next, you're sitting in a gilded chair with spiffy red leather slippers, telling the gays they're undermining the human rain forest.
Fascinating . . . .
