By Camper
At last! Queer as Folk as it's meant to be co-hosted: Ladies and Gentlemen, Harvey Fierstein...IS IN THE HOUSE. WOOHOO! Our prayers have been answered. But I can't help thinking they finally went with a co-host that made sense because they knew Brian Kinney was going to work my last damn nerve. Unfortunately, I am not easily lulled into a sense of complacency. Nice try, though. I love me some Harvey. "Got some popcorn?" He asks at the end, with a knowing nod. "Sit back." Nope, but I just picked up some Red Vines at Target, and that's good enough. I guess since Harvey's on tonight, giving the show actual gay creds, they've decided to move the disclaimer back to the beginning of the episode. This isn't meant to reflect the lives of all gay people -- just the sexy ones. Got it.
Daphne and Justin enter a tattoo parlor. The Original Tattooed Man walks out as the two teenagers walk in; as usual, Daphne gawks, and Justin acts blasé. Daphne tells Justin that he doesn't have to go through this for Brian, "just because he's [Justin's] boyfriend." Justin replies that Brian's not his boyfriend: "I don't do boyfriends." I wonder where he got that line from? Justin points out that lots of kids at school have them; a girl named Erika Jacobsen, for instance, has her belly button pierced. Predictably, Daphy replies, "Yeah, but Erika Jacobsen is a whore." How many of you out there called that? Justin wisely leaves the potential analogy alone. Daphne then recites a range of horror stories including couples getting their piercings entangled, and people getting gangrene and having to have their nose amputated. Justin ignores her. Doesn't she know she's just there to make him feel just that much more the cool rebel? Duh. Anyway, turns out that Justin's come to get his nipple pierced, and he's helped by a very nice, blonde Grrl who looks like she just stepped out of a scene from The Crow. Daphne cringes away from the needle, asking, "Is it going to hurt?" The Grrl giggles and cheerfully replies, "Well, sure!" And sure enough, Justin yelps all over the place. He got his right nipple pierced. I'm told that may or may not mean anything. It would have if it was his ear five years ago, apparently. I breathlessly await further discussion on the boards. But if Justin were really hard-core, he'd get them both pierced. Wimp.
Liberty Diner. Mike and Dave Do Dinner. Dave actually complains because other guys in the restaurant are checking them out. Then Mike voice-overs: "Everyone's always wishing that they had a boyfriend. How he'd look, how he'd sound, how nice it would be to have someone to share you life, your dreams, your dental floss --" Not the same strand though; that's gross. Mike continues, "So, how come none of us has one? That's because we're lying. None of us could commit to a houseplant. How could we commit to a boyfriend?" Oooh, that one hit a little too close to home. A home empty of pets, food with an expiration date, and, yes, houseplants. But I could take care of a boyfriend. By "take care of," I mean, you know, see occasionally, on a semi-regular basis. Cough. Um. You know, just as long as he didn't touch my stuff. Anyway, Mike tells Dave that if he thinks the attention's bad now, he should see it when Brian's there. Dave gives him the stink-eye. Mike apologizes, because he promised that he wouldn't mention Brian for at least ten minutes. Dave sighs, "I'd settle for five." Mike grins adorably. Dr. Dave sighs again and says, "And you've got to stop smiling like that. It makes me want to climb across the table and eat...you...for...dessert." Eww. You're not gay. Stop creeping me out. Mike makes a joke about Dave's wanting whipped cream with that. Ew. You're not gay, either. Dave leans across the table to kiss him (it's just not right, people), and is thankfully interrupted by Debbie, who booms, "You better stay away from the onions, honey, if you two are going to be going at it all night." Knock it off -- I'm trying to keep my dinner down! Debbie's leaning against the booth back, in all her bright and shiny P-Flag glory. Mike winces; he thought she wasn't working that evening. Dave's like, hold on, this is your mother? Mike smiles and kisses her on the cheek. Debbie tells Dave that he's "goddamn gorgeous!" which he is, but he's not gay. She subbed for someone who got sick from eating the kabobs. Dave's eating the kabobs right now, and almost chokes. Debbie cackles. Just kidding. Mike gives her the "cut it out" sign across his throat. Debbie does. She clears their table onto a big round tray, groaning as she lifts it up to her shoulder. Dr. Dave tells her to lift from her knees, instead, and shows her how. She thanks him and tells him, "You're an angel." Dave chuckles, "No, I'm a chiropractor." Every mother's dream! For their straight daughters, that is, because He's SONOTGAY! Debbie's enraptured: "You didn't tell me you were dating a doctor! How long were you planning on keeping this from me?" Mike replies, "As long as I could." Debbie invites David over for dinner. Mike tries to get out of it, but Dave agrees. Delightfully, even.