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When you meet a gay Jeph and a gay Tomi in the same week, you realize something bizarre is going on in this community.  The standard question meeting people who spell their names funny is, “were your parents hippies or something?”  But if he’s a gay man that’s never the genus of his odd name spelling – it was shortly after puberty that he changed it; the new spelling struck him as Celtic, or Southern California or something, and it just so happens that Legolas from Lord of the Rings is his Spirit Animal, so there you go.

The eternal boychild’s re-naming process was most likely facilitated by Instant Messenger, which requires you to re-spell common words when picking a screen name because the original is surely taken, and also offers the chance to introduce oneself in writing five ways in a single sitting.

So do not be taken aback meeting Mat and Keven and Jashua at Dorothei’s Diner.  Nor should you surprised to find yourself in a room (or chatroom) full of “bois” who are “sexi.”  Once, we pointed out that “str8-acting” is ironically the gayest possible way to express what these guys think they are.  Now you know what we were talking about.

If you ever happen to be in position to name a gay bar or club, there’s a certain formula to finding the word that screams drag queen cameos and ripped, shirtless bartenders, ensuring that tourist gays know that this is their gathering place in this part of town.

That formula is basically this: find an object or feature that is found in the neighborhood you are in, then spell it differently.  If you’re by the park, your club is Parque.  If you’re in the city’s old flash flood zone by the river, your club is Stormm.  If you are right smack in the middle of the gayborhood your club is Epicentre or Boispot, and if you’re on hill or surrounded by shorter buildings your new club is Skye (a formula similar to this can be used to name brands of alcohol).

The other way a gay bar or club could be named is that it will stick to standard spelling, but will be ironically named after something that is distinctly un-cool.  Most likely that thing it is something gross and unsightly found in cities: “The Alley” or “Club Industry” or “The Parking Lot.”  All of these may or may not be real gay clubs in America, we are too lazy to check and anyway who cares; we know they very well could be real because we used the formula.

Thus it is understood, little Timmi should worry no longer about his horrible failures on the third grade spelling test.  “Traintrax” really did seem a more fun way to spell that, and the C minus he received for the subject was probably just discrimination: Timmi isn’t dyslexic, he’s just gay, which is actually fantastic.  Goode job, Timmi.


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