Last Thursday I entered a “queer spelling bee” that was part of a fundraiser for the University of Utah’s LGBT center. Much to my surprise, I won, though there weren’t very many contestants and the words weren’t particularly difficult, just somewhat obscure. In fact, the winning word was “cootchiesnortcher.” Apparently, it’s from the Vagina Monologues and I’m just totally out of it for not knowing that. But at least I knew how to spell it.

“Queer bee” rules dictated that “queertestants” spell with a lisp, refer to the judges as “master,” and be as absolutely “gay” as possible at all times. With all the compliments I received on my exaggerated lisp and performance as an effeminate man, in retrospect it’s no wonder I won. The other contestants were distracted; they were blinded by the gay.

An excerpt from this week’s upcoming Salt Lake Metro:

Club Panini provided the backdrop for the ultimate gay spelling event, featuring family-friendly words ranging from “decoupage” to “invaginate.” Contestants had to ask for each word to be used “queerly in a sentence,” which returned such gems as “Bill and Ted had sex in the gorgonzola during Montreal’s Boyfest last winter.”

Spectators sang the “Hokie Pokie” and “queertestant” Nick was greeted with “AND AFTER!” every time the masters called out his entry number, B4.

Don’t even ask about contestants “O69″ and “G-spot.”