She loved plaster statues, vigil lights, tabernacles decorated in gold leaf with little doors that opened, processions with strewers, the Lourdes hymn: that whole world of disappearing and comforting Catholicism […]

He wants my love; he wants the love from here and just what's between your stank-ass legs.

I know what you're thinking, but there's nothing gay about getting naked, bending over in front of your guido buddy, and offering up your balloon knot to him for a healthy waxing. There's nothing gay about a smooth anus. Right?

This move was received with a contemptuous snort from Zan Zoo. Ach, you turnip-head! You think I am afraid of you?