As an exclusively same sex attracted biological natal female (I think those words haven't been wholly mugged of all meaning yet, I used to be just a lesbian)
cake is a much, much nicer thing to be talking about than the hell of Stonewall speaking for/against/over me. Largely about how cock would do me so much good in making me a more acceptable human being that serves male interests properly.
Anyway, Beetle's reported me for hate crimes against drizzle cakes, so I might as well enjoy myself and make some cup cakes for the keystone cops and the fox botherer when they arrive panting on the drive with scolds' bridles in hand. It's not even like these days there's any ducking stools locally, you have to feel for the poor twits.