I had this dream that the newest iteration of “be gay, do crimes” was “Forget to be Het.“ Like, there were t-shirts made, and people would graffiti “Forget 2 B Het” all over the place. And people would just mutate the word “het,” as you do, and people would call me “heteroni” (like, pepperoni) and say “hey, do you wanna order some heteroni pizza?” and I felt like I was in some weird parody of a 70s TV show where there was a token straight character that everyone gave a nickname based on their orientation.
It was really freaking weird, but I’ll take that over nightmares reenacting my trauma for the sixth time since the quarantine started, so fuck me I guess















