For a self-proclaimed M-A-N man, John Laws seems a bit of a delicate little flower. First he gets cut about a loving, run-of-the-mill gay relationship on TV (remember when The Block had nice gays on it? Them were the days), and now he’s all messed up about seeing a gay guy judging women’s fashion at the Melbourne Cup. What a princess!

I personally wasn’t hurt by Lawsy’s slagging off of Queer Eye’s Carson Kressley because I’m immune, having had the misfortune of catching too many day-time taxis. Sadly, Sydney drivers always seem to have their dials stuck on John putting the boot into a minority group or flogging off some product. My own lack of hurt aside, there’s no doubting the much-publicised Carson Kressley comedy skit -“ including the incredibly hilarious pillow-biter reference -“ was offensive in the extreme.

Whether Carson is a sissy or not is not the point. He is, of course. He’s a card-carrying, fabulous, hilarious and absolutely outrageous sissy, as has been noted in this column previously. He’s also (despite some of the weird combos he comes up with for himself) more than fit to judge women’s fashion. Laws’s suggestion that he or some random co-driver would be better at judging anything other than a wet T-shirt competition is bonkers. Maybe Laws could try Googling gay fashion designers to see just how much of women’s clothing comes from gay men’s hands.

No, it’s Laws’s language that really gives me the shits. He says he’s talking on behalf of blue-collar workers, who, he assumes, call people pansy prigs and berate poof-speak regularly. And his half-arsed apology about the segment being comedy that his gay mates and household servants loved just made it worse.

Anyways, I’ve prepared a few words for John Laws in the language of the wharfies and truckies he claims to understand so well: Get stuffed, you bloody dickhead. And your so-called gay friends who think your incitement of hate against a gay man for not being butch enough is hilarious can get stuffed too.

By the way, the former Block contestants mentioned in the first paragraph are now property writers for the Star. That’s called disclosure, Lawsy.

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