Gay death!

old and gay

I’m ill.

Terminally ill.

It’s creeping up in me.

In three years I will be dead.

There is no cure.

You don’t have to grieve for me.

No one will even care.

You see….

I will be….



Isn’t that when it happens?

When the gay universe ceases to recognise your existence?

You will, for sexual purposes, be dead.


But salvation is at hand.

I can be reborn.

I can come back.

Be reincarnated as a hot daddy.

Hairy chest.

Big muscles.

Bigger wallet.

Twinks will love me.

Only thing is, I’m not that into twinks.

Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers.

I must take what I’m offered.


So with forty creeping up on me, do I feel forty?

I don’t have any wrinkles.

Just a smattering of rugby scars.

And they make me look distinguished.

OK the hair line is long gone, but I’m in great shape.

I’m up with popular culture.

Dress snazzy.

I listen to spotify.


I don’t wanna die!

I want to be thirty-something forever!


Suck it up Pat!

Keep it together.

Change is a good thing.

Change should be embraced.

The forties are the new thirties.

Yes, that’s right.

You heard it here first.

I’ll get that spotty guy in the gym to inject me with steroids and pop a few blue ones.

Sure I will be grand like.

15 thoughts on “Gay death!

  1. Sigh. Forty is not the end of the world. Take it from someone who is 41, a lives to tell the tale. You are not going to suddenly lose all your hotness. In fact, many people fell men get better with age. I am not an ageist, but I prefer a man that is 40 over a man that is 20 every time. Yes, it is true that I am NOT a gay man, I do not believe all gay men are completely lacking in taste. So fear not, I am confident that you will remain the flavor of the month for many many years to come.

  2. Just live like it’s the last 3 years of your life…then look back when the big day arrives and say to yourself ‘I was a awesome feckin ride wasn’t I’.
    LIFE BEGINS AT 40 (so I’m told) So you get to start all over again!….ride like the wind my friend 😉

  3. Oh please, Darcy. Climb out of that pity pool, Pull up your big boy pants and deal, you poof! What the hell you gonna do when you pass the big 50? Remember who pulled your iron out of the fire in Bristol!

    1. I am with you on this, Max. I asked Patrick if he was born with some kind of diva gene. “Pull up those big boy pants and deal, you poof”! I will repeat this as a mantra from now on!

  4. Be like my Mom … plenty-nine forever! Age is just a number … youth is in your head! 39 can last several years til you see that 40 is an OK number. Love you from Alaska

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