I’m not afraid to cry. I tell my friends that I love them. I have two teenage sons that I kiss goodnight, every single day. I am a disability support worker. I do regular mental health checks on family and friends because I know what it is to be depressed, and how one person caring can be the difference between living and dying. I hug… A lot. I am 49 years old and I am male…
… Therefore, I must be gay. Please don’t tell my wife.
Seconded. All you need is a knife, a block of wood and a box of Band-Aids (sticking plasters, or whatever your colloquial term is for small wound dressings).