Piers: "We're here with L G.... Welcome!"
LG: "Thank you."
Piers: "Let's talk about LGBT...
Oh, I mean LGSD...
No, I actually have dyslexia, don't you see.
That's why they call me Piers Moron!
It's P T S D!"
LG: "Ok."
Piers: "It seems everyone has it.
Who knew?
Madonna, you, half the women stars, casting couch tell alls!
For child stars, it was the casting crib!
Where will it end?!"
LG: "It's real."
Piers: "Fine.
Now it's footballers, by the thousands, jumping on the band wagon! Buggered by their coaches! Fine! I don't doubt it!
So what? Everyone almost, now has PTSD!
I think it's a lot of publicity hype!
Pardon my French.
I was an Anglican choir boy meself!
I admit, I was a very naughty boy and all!
The old blighter ordered me to bend over the alter.
I thought he was giving me a spanking!
Well, that wasn't the last time!
But I don't go around now, 40 years later, crying PMSD, or whatever!
It was done to half us Anglican choir boys, for Chrissake, not just Catholic boys that the media harps on all year every year. I suppose they all have it, too! PT whatever.
Now the footballers are piling on!"
LG: "It's not as bad for boys as for girls!'
Piers: "Oh, perhaps you mean life at The Madames of the Sacred Heart Convent, where you spent all your formative years!? I'm sure the old queer mothers superior there were a barrel of fun for young girls!"
LG: "It was not like that."
Piers: "Now, you want to air some flashy rape on a roof! You're just a Madonna copycat!"
LG: "That is so unkind Piers."
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