On Homosexualist Fashion
I have been inadvertently groomed.
DISCOVERED while watching the popular television programme “Q— E—” that I have been inadvertently groomed by homosexualists for a number of years. In each episode of this programme — which appeared on my television quite by accident — a gang of men, known as the “Fabulous Five” break into an individual's home and begin turning their life inside out. Each of these homosexual men has a special power which range from more impressive skills like painting and decorating, to the more banal act of preparing a sandwich. Most impressive of the group is the larger, cross-dressing homosexual, known only as the “dress monster”, whose childlike nature, juxtaposed with his capacity for indiscriminate violence, makes for captivating, if terrifying, viewing.
More unnerving than this is the finished product of the transformations; each target of the show is subjected to a “makeover” in which the homosexuals craft them into an image which pleases them. In every one of these cases in which the participants are male, they are transformed into a clone of myself.
This is done with remarkable consistency. Irrespective of the victim's age, height, race or bone structure, they are consistently turned into another William, with the same Oxford shirt, glasses, comfortable cream-coloured trousers, and sensible dress shoes.
Some meditation on this rarity has produced the following conclusion: My whole adult life, and a part of my adolescence has been, not guided by my own volition, but dictated by homosexual fashionistas. Giving little importance to clothing, my modus operandi has always been to purchase whatever the mannequin had on, but I had failed to consider that the mannequin was bait. Anticipating my apathy, the homosexuals who control the fashion industry, had planted the image that most pleased them, knowing that the laziness and indifference of men like myself would make us perfect hosts for its propagation.
Once you realise this you cannot fail to see what I do now: That we perfectly heterosexual men, adorned with garments chosen by the Fabulous, have voluntarily made ourselves the mere objects of the homosexualists' aesthetic pleasure. I don't mind them myself, but I thought you ought to know.
