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I cured my son of the Big Gay. The other day, he came home for Christmas with his new partner. I was excited to meet her (and maybe MEAT her after my son fell asleep hehe), but imagine my horror when it turned out to be another man.

I immediately started to protest, but my son said "Dad, this is who I am. Zander and I are in love."

Without missing a beat, I turned around and said, "You forgot to say no homo."

But my boy simply scoffed at me and said, "Actually, dad, I AM a homosexual. That's right, your son is in love with another man." Then my son grabbed Zander's hand and looked at me defiantly.

For a second, I was utterly devastated. But then I thought to myself What would Trump do? So I stared straight at my son, penetrating his soul with my eyes (no homo), and said, "But that's gay."

As soon as I uttered those fateful words, my son began to convulse. He dropped to floor in some sort of manic state, spit pouring from his mouth as his eyes rolled back into his head. Zander tried to help him, but I pushed that dainty little queer away with my heteronormative strength.

After a full minute, my son opened his eyes and said, "Dad, you cured me of my homosexuality." Then, with manly tears of joy in his eyes, he pointed to Zander and exclaimed, "Let's get that homo!"

After we wiped Zander's blood off our hands and threw the little fairy into the cold, my son and I sat down with a beer and watched some football.

As we watched, my son turned to me and said, "Dad, I love you. No homo."

"No homo indeed, son," I replied. "No homo indeed."

I cured my son of the Big Gay. The other day, he came home for Christmas with his new partner. I was excited to meet her (and maybe MEAT her after my son fell asleep hehe), but imagine my horror when it turned out to be another man. I immediately started to protest, but my son said "Dad, this is who I am. Zander and I are in love." Without missing a beat, I turned around and said, "You forgot to say no homo." But my boy simply scoffed at me and said, "Actually, dad, I AM a homosexual. That's right, your son is in love with another man." Then my son grabbed Zander's hand and looked at me defiantly. For a second, I was utterly devastated. But then I thought to myself What would Trump do? So I stared straight at my son, penetrating his soul with my eyes (no homo), and said, "But that's gay." As soon as I uttered those fateful words, my son began to convulse. He dropped to floor in some sort of manic state, spit pouring from his mouth as his eyes rolled back into his head. Zander tried to help him, but I pushed that dainty little queer away with my heteronormative strength. After a full minute, my son opened his eyes and said, "Dad, you cured me of my homosexuality." Then, with manly tears of joy in his eyes, he pointed to Zander and exclaimed, "Let's get that homo!" After we wiped Zander's blood off our hands and threw the little fairy into the cold, my son and I sat down with a beer and watched some football. As we watched, my son turned to me and said, "Dad, I love you. No homo." "No homo indeed, son," I replied. "No homo indeed."

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