Even gayer than the Frasier finale...

Last night my boyfriend, Stephen, and I watched a Merchant-Ivory movie called "Maurice." It was about two school chums in pre-WWI England, a cute blond and a young Hugh Grant, who fall in and out of love with one another despite society's intolerance for the love that dare not speak its name. We both agreed that despite the allure of fancy candelabras and the intrigue of confusing cricket rules, we are glad that we do not live in 1914. I do have a confession though. It took me about 60 minutes to figure out that the cute blond they referred to as "Morris" was actually the pretensious, British way of pronouncing the title character's name, Maurice. I sat there for half the movie thinking "when is this Maurice guy going to show up, shouldn't he be here by now?" I'm not very bright. All in all I've concluded that I can watch an endless amount of movies about repressed homosexuals.