Gay body less good than actual body

A FEW WEEKENDS AGO I spend the night with a very cute guy (pride!) who, upon removing some not-to-be-disclosed number of my garments, told me that I had a "nice body."

"Thanks!" I said, surprised as usual to be complimented, as my body dymorphia generally leads me to believe that, if knocked over by a mild breeze, I would shatter into a thousand pick-up sticks.

"Yeah," he said. "You have, like, a nice gay body."

"Well, I made it myself. Lets make out more!" Note the self-deprecation and the change of subject. I wasn't sure how to feel about having a "Gay Body," but I decided to go with "Pleased." After all, it wasn’t like he said, "You have a nice 'starved greyhound' body."

I hung out with him a week later, this time at a beach.

"The guys here are in pretty good shape," I said at a pause in our conversation.

He looked down the beach. "Yeah, but they all have gay body."

My ears pricked up. "Gay body?"

"You know, like, they look strong, but their muscles are all for show."

I could have humped him right there.

SNL – Body Fusion

"Or Penthilths!"