Whenever the western Left side, instinctively, with Palestine my heart says, “Jew-haters” while my mind says, “Shut the f*** up, heart.”
All over the world, socially liberal Christians would be able to say that they’d lived to see a Jewish lesbian don the pointy hat of bishopdom
I feel like Tinder is a place where lesbians play badminton and drink iced tea, while straight women trawl through skips while dodging rotten turnips that are being lobbed at their heads.
Do drink slightly warm cider, dance in public and raise your voice in support of LGBT rights. Don’t dare each other to “go up to” drag queens.
A bizarre double standard has emerged in the fashion world, where misogyny is OK, as long as it pastiches a bygone era of kitsch female subjugation.
Refusal to massage every customer with niceness is, perhaps, a sort of personal strike. Why not support them by still giving a tip?
“Who’s excited for a Bank Holiday sleep in?” tweeted some crisps, recently.
A new documentary about the American Samoa football team (who hold the world record for the biggest international defeat – 31-0 to Australia in 2001) gives hope that professional sport won’t always be prejudiced against those who are different.
How online dating has turned singles into perfectionists.
Girl crushes are 75 per cent respect, 24.999 per cent idolatry and 0.001 per cent something nebulously sexual. It’s more about wanting to be someone than wanting to do them.
Why the writer and director’s anti-Facebook film is not only trite guff; it’s a sermon against human advancement.
When you approach 25, it suddenly hits you that you’re never going to be an astronaut. Or an architect. Or a folk sensation.
This is supposed to be my tiny bit of luxury, a protective bubble sparing me, this once, the stultifying, sexist harassment of traversing London in the wee hours.
From London leather men to prostitution in American suburbia, the renamed BFI Flare offered up an eclectic programme.
If you’re a Scene Lesbian, whenever you’re abroad, you feel obligated to have a quick look at what gays do for fun wherever you are.
It didn’t go quite as he’d imagined. . .
In many countries, anti-gay legislation is an ugly colonial throwback. We have a duty to help.
I strongly recommend the occasional bout of aloneness.
Enter lesbians. Observe lesbians. Exeunt.
That there are so many other adults trying to take themselves seriously while being handed plates of fish fingers makes me want to laugh, cry and vomit at the same time.
Russia has given its Olympic volunteers a rainbow-coloured uniform. This is a country that, as of last year, has criminalised homosexuality and banned its citizens from publically brandishing the Pride flag. What's really going on here?
There will be an admissions procedure. “So, did you get into lesbianism?” Emily asks Stephanie. “No,” says Stephanie, gazing at her tiny, straight-girl feet.
Before one of them came out of my sister, the best I could hope for around babies, speech-wise, would be an awkward “Hello, small person thing.” Now, I'm having thoughts . . .
The disillusionment of plunging a fork into something that claims to be a pie, and almost immediately hitting plate, is like no other.
Let’s face it, lesbians, we’ve peaked. We’ve had our 15 minutes of sweet, hashtag-spawning fame.
Christmas is the one time of year that straight, socially conservative men unconsciously gay it up for a whole month.
Increased visibility of mentally ill people can only serve to highlight problems and break taboos, but for the most part this is a stultifying trend.
By snubbing the Sochi Games himself and picking tennis star and lesbian icon Billie Jean King to represent him, Barack Obama is effectively waving a rainbow flag in Putin's face. Three cheers for the “we’re here, we’re queer”-ness of the US Olympic delega
Coffee Guy is all, “Look at me with my nice hair and my penis,” brandishing his barista tools like a middle-class Viking.
I’ve often thought that sex is just a series of humiliations punctuated by orgasms, and this film is a confirmation of that.