Yeah I kinda feel bad for 'em sometimes!! Prancing..... so wrong. lol
I've told this story before--and so if anybody's read it, ignore its repetition--but since you're new here, madam, maybe you never read it.
Back in 2000, the gay-marriage thing was on the ballot here in Nebraska.
Nobody paid much attention to it; we have gays in Nebraska, and most gays in Nebraska are just like other Nebraskans, modest, hard-working, humble, gracious, unassuming, reticent.
In 2000, Nebraska must've been the only state to have such a referendum, because it immediately attracted the attention of professional gays in New York and San Francisco.
These non-Nebraskans decided to "teach" we Nebraskans.
If they'd stayed away, the measure wouldn't have lost by the landslide it did, or perhaps it might've even narrowly won.
But no.
Much to our startled surprise, Nebraska was invaded by hordes of professional gays from New York City and San Francisco. It was odd, because such people had never paid attention to Nebraska before, and now it seemed all gay eyes were upon us.
So they came here, hordes of them, dancing and frolicking and tiptoeing and prancing and sash-shaying and wiggling and jiggling and bouncing and bumping and humping.
We've seen odd sights here in Nebraska before, so it didn't bother us.
However.
Because of their Christmas-tree-ornament-sized earrings, their flopping nose-rings, their pointy chin-rings, their bobbling navel-rings, their tinkling bracelets, all their flashy fluorescent colors, sparkling and glittering and clinking and jingling and jangling, they created noise and color and movement unfamiliar to the cattle here.
Even the Nebraskans who've lived in Omaha all their lives know you don't spook the cattle. And Nebraska politicians respect that, too; to spook the cattle is to lose an election.
Spooked cattle are a terrible sight to see, running amok panick-stricken and bawling and crying and tromping all in their way; people get hurt, even killed, trying to reassure spooked cattle, trying to get them calmed back down.
Well, that's what happened with all these professional gays from New York City and San Francisco, running around Nebraska shimmering and glittering and flouncing and flashing; they spooked the cattle.
Better for them had they stayed home and minded their own business, while we minded ours.