Authorities from the Society To Regulate Abnormal Impulses and Gay-Homo Temptation (S.T.R.A.I.G.H.T.) have confirmed that even a passing glance at the flaccid penis of another male makes you homosexual. Yep. You’re a certified butt pirate. Don’t try to deny it. Don’t pretend that your friend’s dong just swept in to your field of view because you were looking down to where you threw a towel. You’re queer. You’re a rump ranger. Now, avoid eye contact, tell a racist joke, bitch about how your wife has been a total cooze lately, and talk about how you want to nail that hot new aerobics instructor. Make sure you make these declarations at a distractingly loud volume. Several of the other guys are using hair dryers (which is kind of gay itself) and you need to be forceful in your fidelity to absolute heterosexuality. As you leave the locker room, shout out that you’re heading to the lounge for a cold one . . . like it makes any difference you major-league, mincing swish. You might as well just drop the soap and tell everyone showering that you’re open for business. Fruitcake.

Written by Rev. Gary Wayne Lee