What Does a Gay Club in a Texas High School Even Do?
A Deeply Investigative Satirical Look at Rainbow Chaos in the Cafeteria
Austin, TX — With tempers flaring at the Texas Capitol over a proposed ban on LGBTQ+ student clubs, one pressing question has confounded lawmakers, parents, and at least three rodeo clowns: What does a gay club in a Texas high school even do?
To uncover the truth, we embedded our satirical correspondents inside several Texas high schools, disguised as substitute librarians, emotional support goats, and one overly enthusiastic ukulele instructor.
Bohiney Insight into What Happens in a “Gay Club” at School
They Have Meetings.
Once a week, students gather in a portable classroom that smells faintly of Axe body spray and adolescent rebellion to discuss topics like bullying, pronoun etiquette, and whether rainbow cupcakes violate the school’s banned substance policy (they do not, unless frosted aggressively).
They… Talk.
An anonymous GSA president told us, “Sometimes we talk about stuff like mental health, safe spaces, and whether the hot English teacher is an ally or just wears tight jeans.” State Rep. Gus Flangemeyer (R-Hellfire County) responded, “Talking?! That’s how the French Revolution started!”
They Host Spirit Days.
Activities range from “Pride Pajama Day” to “Pronoun Positivity Bingo.” One teacher accidentally participated, winning a water bottle with a sticker that said “Them’s Fightin’ Words.” He now teaches in Arkansas.
They Don’t Recruit Your Kids.
Despite viral Facebook memes from ConcernedAuntPatriot89, there’s no indoctrination curriculum. We checked. The only agenda we found was a three-item to-do list:
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Bake Sale.
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Make posters.
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Remind Tyler not to wear fishnets to gym class again.
They Make the School Less of a Hellscape.
Studies show GSAs reduce bullying and increase graduation rates, but critics argue that’s just “Big Data” trying to sell them another inclusive calculator.
They Exist.
Which, let’s be honest, is the actual problem for some lawmakers. If a GSA existed quietly in the woods and no one legislated it, would it still destroy Texas values? The answer: yes, if it had a drag brunch.
What the Funny People Are Saying
“I thought gay clubs were like chess clubs but with glitter.” — Ron White
“They asked to hang a rainbow flag in the library. Texas banned books AND colors. Coincidence?” — Jerry Seinfeld
“If straight kids can have Future Farmers of America, why can’t queer kids have Future Fabulous Americans?” — Wanda Sykes
“I joined a GSA once. Turns out it stood for Guns, Steak & America. Different vibes.” — Larry the Cable Guy
Local Reactions
Coach Gary, Defensive Line Coach & Accidental Ally:
“I don’t care what club they’re in as long as they ain’t trying to turn Friday Night Lights into RuPaul’s Drag Race. Unless the uniforms are rhinestoned. That’d be sick.”
Tammy Lynn Backlot, PTA Mother and Facebook Detective:
“I just KNOW they’re grooming children. I read it on a podcast. My son said he saw glitter in the hallway and now he’s asking questions about Cher. Coincidence? I think not.”
Principal Dolores Flench:
“Honestly, it’s the only club where the kids show up on time and bring snacks. The anime club keeps summoning demons and the football team set the band room on fire last week.”
The Texas Legislature Reacts
In a fiery debate, Rep. Chester “Chuckwagon” McMullet declared:
“If we let these gay clubs keep forming, next thing you know, we’ll have bisexual bake-offs and pansexual pep rallies. Where does it end?!”
One lawmaker tried to outlaw any club that included “the word pride, a rainbow, or more than one scented candle,” prompting a rebellion from the Scented Candle Enthusiasts Society, who marched on the Capitol smelling like lavender regret and cinnamon defiance.
Meanwhile, the Student Council treasurer clarified, “We spend more on paper towels for milk spills than the GSA spends all year. Except for Prom—those up-lights weren’t cheap.”
Historical Parallels
Remember when adults panicked over rock music, Elvis’ hips, or Pokémon causing demonic possession? Same vibes. The Texas Legislature has simply updated its list of existential threats:
Helpful Satirical Advice for Texas Lawmakers
If you’re terrified of a rainbow sticker and a cupcake named “Bi-Frosting Betty,” here are some tips:
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Consider therapy. Or at least decaf.
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Read a book that isn’t banned.
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Try being in a room with teenagers without assuming they’re conspiring against you.
And if you’re truly worried about students talking to each other… maybe it’s not the club. Maybe it’s you.
Disclaimer:
This article is a human-generated work of satire created by a collaboration between the world’s oldest tenured professor and a philosophy major turned dairy farmer. No milk was spilled, but several egos were bruised during its composition.
Auf Wiedersehen, amigos.
Lawmakers Mistake Gay-Straight Alliance for Illuminati, Demand Congressional Probe
In a stunning display of alphabet-induced paranoia, Texas lawmakers mistook a local high school’s Gay-Straight Alliance (GSA) for the Illuminati after spotting a triangle in the club’s logo. Rep. Buckley Grimsnort claimed “it had rainbow beams and the all-seeing eye of Elton John.” A House subcommittee is now demanding classified documents, student agendas, and access to the cafeteria’s spice rack. Meanwhile, GSA members deny world domination plans, saying their only agenda is “making Mondays suck less.” Conspiracy theorists remain unconvinced, citing Beyoncé lyrics and a suspicious glitter spill near the guidance office as “irrefutable proof.”
Texas Bans Rainbow-Themed Anything, Including Weather and Candy
After heated debates over “moral meteorology,” Texas legislators have outlawed rainbows in all forms, including candy, children’s art, and the sky. Skittles were rebranded “Straight Sugar Pellets,” and weather channels now pixelate post-rain reflections. Students caught drawing rainbows face detention and mandatory flag etiquette seminars. The ban extends to unicorn-themed stickers and any dessert described as “whimsical.” Governor Greg Abbott praised the law as “a win for nature’s neutrality.” Meanwhile, God issued a brief statement through thunder: “Seriously? I made that for Noah, you paranoid lunatics.” Texas officials are now investigating whether sunsets count as “leftist light propaganda.”
GSA Club President Accused of Witchcraft After Explaining Pronouns to Vice Principal
Chaos erupted at Jefferson County High when GSA president Riley Quinn calmly explained the concept of “they/them” to Vice Principal Chuck Darlington, who immediately began convulsing, shouting, “Grammar blasphemy!” and demanding holy water. The school board accused Quinn of summoning “gender demons” and violating state education standards mandating all nouns be paired with “God-approved” pronouns. Local churches have since hosted exorcisms near the locker rooms. Quinn, who also leads the Dungeons & Dragons club, was burned in effigy by the yearbook committee. “It’s like Hogwarts meets The Crucible out here,” one student whispered before being handed a dictionary and suspended.
Gay Club Actually Just Group Chat with Better Snacks, Investigation Finds
Despite statewide panic, a six-month investigation into the high school GSA revealed the group is just a glorified group chat with superior snack selection. Activities include watching vintage “Glee” episodes, arguing over astrology memes, and organizing bake sales where every brownie comes with a pronoun pin. Homeland Security agents assigned to monitor “potential rainbow subversion” left disappointed, citing zero evidence of indoctrination, but “above-average Rice Krispies Treats.” “Honestly, we just wanted somewhere to exist without being side-eyed,” said treasurer Mia Fernandez while crocheting a bisexual flag. Meanwhile, the chess club expressed envy over the GSA’s superior snack-to-trauma ratio.
School Board Accidentally Approves “Pansexual Pancake Breakfast,” Sells Out in Minutes
In a bureaucratic flub of historic proportions, a Texas school board mistook a “Pansexual Pancake Breakfast” event request for a cookware fundraiser. Approving it unanimously, they were stunned to find hundreds of teens joyfully eating maple-drenched carbs while discussing identity, queerness, and syrup consistency. “We thought it was about cast iron,” said one board member, sipping orange juice in stunned defeat. By the time they realized their mistake, the event had made $2,300 and gone viral on TikTok. Evangelical parents protested outside, but secretly ate leftover pancakes labeled “gender-neutral gluten discs.” The event returns next semester with waffles.
Legislator Confuses LGBTQ With BLT, Accidentally Bans Sandwiches
During a rushed amendment vote, Rep. Denny Hargrove confused the acronym “LGBTQ” with “BLT,” proposing a ban on “all sandwich-based subversion.” The law passed before lunch. Local delis were raided. Ham was questioned. Lettuce was detained without trial. Protesters held up signs reading “I Am Bacon.” Subway franchises across Texas went silent. “This is a constitutional attack on deliciousness,” screamed one sandwich artist while tossing tomato slices into the air like protest confetti. Upon realizing the mistake, Hargrove doubled down: “Look, love who you want, but don’t put mayonnaise on ideology.” A repeal bill is now trapped between two slices of committee.