‘Another real sadness about Gately’s death,’ reckons Jan Moir of The Daily Cunt, ‘is that it strikes another blow to the happy-ever-after myth of civil partnerships.’
Is it ’cause they had a couple of shandy boozes on the night in question and so deserve to die, m’lud? Is it because a third gent accompanied them back to their apartment for – one presumes – a little light recreational sex business and so they all deserve to die? Is the hand of the vengeful Lord visible in this whole sorry affair, while serial caners like Amy Winehouse and Pete Doherty live on? Does that mean it’s because Gately was a gay he deserved to die? Well, short answer, yes, according to the Moir that is Jan.
‘The sugar coating on this fatality is so saccharine-thick that is obscures whatever bitter truth lies beneath,’ continues Jan Moir with her highly calorific (natch) metaphors. News flash! Some gay couples like to have fun, in a very open, honest manner, and sometimes with a guest star. Better than hubby schtuppin’ the home-help as Momma innocently pots jam in the kitchen whilst whistling the theme tune to Howard’s Way, no? No? Oh.
So, listen and learn kids: if you are a gay, and you think you are going to find someone to love and live with forever then you are R-O-N-G wrong (we’re using the same proofers as The Daily Cunt today).
And should you have the temerity to want to join in an unholy union with that other gay – maybe for reasons of tax or inheritance or all the other little perks that straights have been protecting for themselves since time began, maybe just because you love him in that sleazy, dirty way that gays love each other – then, unless you live your life like a PR exercise for the gays, rest assured that your partner will sooner or later be found in the prayer position with fluid on the lung, deader than your average doornail. As sure as eggs is eggs. And that’s a good thing, remember.
So do Jan Moir and all the other Daily Cunt readers (though, to give them credit, most of the comments on the Cunt’s website are pretty damning of the Moir) a favour and just kill yourself now.
Oh, you are? At a rate of four times the national average? Well, good. Carry on as you were.