A trap is a man who dresses up like a woman and has sex with other guys, right? That’s everyone keeps telling me. Yet everyone who does tell me, follows up with the inevitable question, “are traps gay?” Of course, they’re gay. Gay means you like people that are the same sex as you. They’re men, they fuck men. They’re clearly into men. They’re not being coerced into it. They’re gay. I don’t see what the concern is. Why don’t they want to be called gay? They are so obviously, adamantly gay, that I can hardly entertain it as a debate topic.
Even if you get a “sex change” like Blaire White, you’re still gay, and so is your “heterosexual” partner. Traps are guys. Guys who fuck other guys, are gay. Get over it.
There’s no secret fourth or twelve hundreth sexual orrientation out there that means, “Oh, I totally like pussy, man. But I’m not gonna lie, I accidentally sucked a dick once.” That’s called bi-sexuality. Get out of the closet, you fucking child. Grow up and accept yourself the way you are, for fuck sake.
I have no problem with what traps do by the way, even if they actually somehow manage to pass as a woman all the way through sex. Sex is between two consenting adults. If you’re having sex with someone and haven’t found out they have a dick, that’s your problem, not there’s. However, I will draw the line when they start expecting not to be called gay, when they are in fact—homosexuals. Never mind that this is a free country and that if you don’t like labels, you can just ignore them. But you’re literally an openly gay man getting upset because someone called them gay! That’s borderline insanity. That’s like if I exploded if you called me a sperg. I wouldn’t care, because I am one. Sawreh. Hate bringing up the burgers. But I had to mention something I have that I don’t necessarily need, but don’t mind. Something that yes might make life a little harder for me, but nevertheless more interesting than perhaps it would be for others. That’s the mindset I feel that closeted gays should acquire. This being openly gay but not accepting the label shit—has got to stop. Either accept that you’re gay, or join the LGBTQ+123ksdjkLK;3K circus if you must. Just know that if you choose the later, conversing with me in the future may be difficult—for you.
I’m not calling you a she, a her, zim, zer, zoobitty bop. None of that shit matters to me. I know that you’re a guy because you’ve told me. You also physically look like a man, and inevitably get a rush of testosterone when you do anything that makes you feel good. You’re a man. Get over it.