Fag Hag Diary

Yay, McCain!


The Fag Hag was buzzing like my old amphetamine-addicted Nana this morning to wake up and discover that the fabulous Barry O’ Barma won the first prize in the Washington competition thingy. And so it seems were all the other peeps in London town (bar a few men who look like Brian Glover and live in Canvey Island ).

But as it can be rather yawnsville when everyone’s politically so emphatically all on the same page (unless it’s a page from Jilly Cooper’s Riders involving Gypsy Jake), the Faggy decided to throw the cat amongst the dirty ‘ole pigeons today.

‘What about Obama?’ grinned my neighbour as we ran into each other on the landing like ships that pass in the nightmare. I grimaced ruefully, ‘I know. I’m devastated. But what can you do?’ he looked at me like I’d just murdered his first born and I went on my merry way…

‘What a joyous day!’ said a text that came through at midday from a lovely Guardian-reading pal of the Fag Hag’s with feminist hair. I replied, ‘Shame about the disastrous election result though.’

She didn’t think I was joking. In fact she hasn’t replied. And I’m now about to post my Facebook status to ‘Emily is..hoping you woolly liberals get the government you deserve’. Just to see those glorious responses.

Let’s pretend to be a Red Neck for the day – my favourite game ever!

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One comment to “Fag Hag Diary”

  1. Haha! That’s an amazing way to spend the day. Wish I’d thought of it, rather than having to embrace all the smugness.

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