
C'mon, you just know that
Lois is fag hag!
A strong "career girl" like Lois should be a magnet for
the kind of gay guys who hang out with gal pals (which, contrary to the impression that you get from watching teevee, is not something most gay guys do). If Lois Lane lived in our world, she and
Anderson Cooper would be
tight, man, and shop together weekly.
So Lois surely gets *snicker* "hit on" by lots of meek mild-mannered fresh off the farm types, ones who haven't quite figured out their own "secret identities". You know--
Alarm Clocks, as they're called, guys who are
wound up but haven't rung yet and awakened from their Sleep of Self-Deception. Imagine Lois Lane, Girl Reporter, repeatedly embarrassed by the relevation that (once again) her latest beau is a BOQ (editor's note:
Big
Old
Queen). Can't you hear the water cooler taunts of cosmosluts like
Cat Grant and smalltown girls who know the score like
Lana Lang?
"So, Lois, how was your, um, 'date' with Blue Devil? *snort*! Are you bringing him to the office Christmas Party?"
"Don't be silly, Cat; he'll be too busy sliding down chimneys! *tee hee* Besides, he wouldn't want to clash with the holiday decor ... say, Lois, I bet Mr. Scarlet or the Red Bee is available!"The bicked witches! I'm sure it's like some cruel scene from
Sex in the City or
Desperate Housewives. Can you imagine poor Lois Lane stuck on
Desperate Housewives? Shudder!
For decades, sexist male writers have angled the Clark/Superman/Lois triangle as an ironic tragedy for Clark. Puh-lease! The real story is one of a doomed Fruit Fly, longing for a "real man" but who attracts men interested only in her brain. Then, when the total package comes along in the form of Clark Kent, all Lois can think is:
"Oh, great, another farm fag!
Well, this time I'm not falling for it!"
Oh, the comic book irony.