I’m not one to make a statementnI’m anything but blatantnof life I am but a quiet membernbut I’ll never forget that daynwhen out in the open it all camenit had to be that one day in septembernwe’d lost our footy finalnso on the schoolbus we all pilednbroken, battered, bloodied and bemusednthe only consolationnfrom the complete ego deflationnwould be a hot pie from the shop we couldn’t losenTimmo got a four and twentynand Tommo he bought plentynand Simmo even got a sausage rollnbut despite the rejectionnI risked with my selectionnI couldn’t help but feel like something coldnnI bought a gaytimena golden gaytimencos this time it felt like the right timena gaytimena golden gaytimenand they give me such a hard time for what I donenI just felt like icecream wrapped in biscuit crumbsnnthe shopkeeper looked shiftynas I handed him a dollar fiftynand all around me time seemed to freezenit was like a western movienwith the villian and his groupiesndeath starin’ my iced confectionaryn‘what do you think you’re doin?’nit was Tommo he was spewin’ndirt flying off his footy spursn‘is there something you’re not saying?’n‘what’s this game you’re playing?’n‘you can’t have that for lunch, it’s absurd’nnI bought a gaytime…nnwe all got back on the busnand everyone was in a real huffnmy best mate Wade wouldn’t sit next to menTommo waas the leadernhe kept calling me ‘icecream eater’nI chose to take that literallynthere was only so much I could takenTommo’s voice was giving me an icecream headachenI didn’t know whether to scream or spewnthe only way to stop it was to point out that stain in tommo’s pocket…nnnhe’d bought a gaytimena golden gaytimencos this time it felt like the right time…nand they give me such a hard time for what I donenI just felt like icrecream wrapped in biscuit crumbsnno longer will i settle for a billabongni’m so proud to sing my gaytime eatin’ song