While in town yesterday, having a wander round the poky shops in the back streets, a rather cool looking woman handed me a flyer for a club!! Imagine my delight – me, who usually gets passed over by the flier-ati for those less likely to break a hip or drop their Sanatogen on the dancefloor – handed a flier! in the street!

Eager to find out just what sort of hip young toe-swinging joint I was being considered for, I read the leaflet.

A classic rock/metal club with it’s own lap dancing lounge.

Apparently, I look like the sort of Dude who’d Rawk out to Deep Purple then pay a young lady to gyrate in front of me. These moments of excitement are so short lived.

On to the Gay Pride parade. Lorry loads of The Gays having a whale of a time if I’m any judge. Being somewhat uneducated when it comes to the gaysexual scene, I was both intrigued and downhearted by the “Bear Lovers”. Apparently neither zoologists nor fey teenagers with Winnie-The-Pooh t-shirts, but a group of gay men dedicated to the admiration of furry blokes with ample bellies. In short, men who look a bit like me. If only there were a group of such admirers whose members were solely heterosexual women. Real Ale and Deep Fried Pizza would become an aphrodisiac. My life would be complete.

I’ve never had cause to question my sexuality before but the sight of a spectacularly attractive bikini-clad lesbian on stilts stirred some deeply impure thoughts within me. Does this mean that deep down I may actually be An Lesbian? I shall ask one of my gay lady-friends for an application form.