‘That’s camp,” proclaimed my drag queen friend Vanity as we watched the T rex rip a tyre off a Jeep in the first Jurassic Park movie. It’s 2012, 2am and we’re in her bedroom playing our favourite Jurassic Park drinking game, where you swig every time you see a dinosaur.
“Is it, though?” I said, doubtfully, dipping a Walkers Sensation in some coleslaw.
“Course it is. All the gays love Jurassic Park. Don’t be an idiot, Jones.” She pointedly slapped down the lid on the coleslaw as if that were the end of the matter.
