As Will Holmes has highlighted, individuals claiming asylum based on their LGBT identity have been asked to prove their sexuality by the UK Border Agency through demeaning and insensitive means. Here’s my guide on how to prove yourself in a much more wholesome, fabulous way:
Things you will need:
– 1 x pair of scissors
– 1 x over the shoulder man bag (NOT bought from Nike otherwise you run the risk of looking like one of those slimy little kids who use their bags to carry weed around Romford on a hot summer’s day. Also do not pair with a Barbour coat for the same reason).
– 1 x copy of the album I’m Breathless by Madonna.
– Many examples of your nude selfies that you swap on Grindr
Having filled out all necessary forms, approach your undoubtedly racist and homophobic immigration officer with a smile. Give him a Vauxhall handshake (rub his crotch) and proceed to the interview room.
This is where you’ve got to persuade them. I suggest starting gently: hum a tune from The Wizard of Oz while you’re waiting or talk about your gin-withdrawal symptoms to get things started. As they unpack your luggage don’t be remotely embarrassed about the tangle of sex toys, jockstraps and Kylie CDs which spill out onto the floor. Embarrassment is a straight trait and shows weakness.
If they’re still not persuaded, I’ve got a few more tricks. Firstly, stall by going to the toilet. Upon return, complain about the lack of mirrors of a suitable height to be able to take selfies. Explain about the ‘Golden Ratio’ (the amount of the top of your penis that you can show in a selfie before it becomes slutty) and suggest improvements. Then it’s time to move on to the big guns. Pop your copy of I’m Breathless on and skip right to the last track. Allow a couple of minutes’ listening time before pausing to explain exactly why Queen Madonna chose Astaire, Jimmy Dean, Monroe etc. as the epitome of fabulousness. If they still don’t get it, continue further to explain exactly why Petula Clark didn’t make the cut despite her obvious camp potential.
For those beefcakes, unfortunate enough to look too straight, who have failed to persuade the evil immigration officer, I have one last weapon in the arsenal. Pin the officer to the wall, reach around and loosen that belt and slide his trousers to the ground. Once you’ve peeled them off of him, take out your scissors and give them a bit of a makeover. It’s up to you whether you go Biker or Indian (personally I prefer Indian), but either way, do it with flair. I often find that singing ‘Be Our Guest’ from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast helps me achieve the level of pizazz required. Regardless, your talent will never fail to convince any man of your homosexuality. That’s a Discovery Channel fact. Try not to snip away at anything ‘too’ vital…
So there we have it – you’re a UK citizen! The process wasn’t demeaning or invasive at all AND the kind and friendly Immigration Officer is even helping you repack your suitcase. What could be a better way to show the UK’s accepting moral values!