Oh, Datalounge, realm of wit and shade, Where threads of camp and gossip are made. A haven for queens with tongues so sharp, Each post a play, each comment an art.
From Golden Girls to Broadway lore, No topic too niche, no diva ignored. Threads ignite like sparklers in the night, Opinions clashing, but oh, such delight!
In the dim-lit corners of cyberspace, Quippy barbs land with effortless grace. “Who is she?” the eternal refrain, Mysteries linger, yet truths entertain.
Anonymous masks guard secrets so bold, Scandals revisited, tea served cold. The wit is biting, the humor grand, A digital stage, a theatrical stand.
Icons are worshipped, from Judy to Cher, The ghosts of gay culture all linger there. Yet shadows of longing, of life’s raw ache, Peek through the jest, the laughs we fake.
Datalounge, you’re messy, chaotic, obscene, A refuge for queens and the spaces between. Forever you stand, both savage and sweet, The campiest salon on the Internet street.