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Oh Daddy

After seeing a bunch of daddies (and some rather scary ones, at that) at Folsom Street East on Sunday, I thought I should give my biological papa a ring.

It was his day, after all.

The usual pleasantries were exchanged ... his golf game, my work travel, how's Lynette (his wife of 20 years on Sunday ... happy anniversary), how's Larry, blah blah blah.

We started talking about health and fitness, choletsterol levels, etc. Somehow we got on the subject of working out and he told me about a recent visit to his neighborhood YMCA.

"You know, men's bodies don't do much for me as a general rule, but this guy in the locker room the other day ... Bobby, he was just beautiful."

I wanted to say, "You know dad, the gay thing's genetic, and you do like the showtunes," but I bit my tongue.

He overheard some other guy talking to the body beautific, who upset becasue his body fat had gone up to 9 percent.

"Why don't you send him up here?" I asked my dad. "I have much better use for him than you do. It could be a nice little Pride present for me."

Hopefully he'll be with the doorman when I get home.