Perfect.
From The New Yorker:
In May, 2006, Maupin and Turner were going up to the Lake District, and McKellen had hitched a ride to Grange-Over-Sands, where he was making fortnightly visits to his ninety-six-year-old stepmother, Gladys. As a teen-ager, McKellen had had a strained relationship with Gladys; in adulthood, he had grown devoted to her, the oldest witness to his life. Now senile, however, Gladys had become convinced that the only reason McKellen came to see her so often was that he was having an affair with her cleaning lady. “Ian spun it as a great source of laughs,” Maupin said. “He said, ‘She wasn’t even an attractive cleaning lady. She had an ass like the back-end of two lorries.’” McKellen tried repeatedly to disabuse Gladys of the notion, but she persisted. Finally, in frustration, he said, “Gladys, for heaven’s sake, I’m gay.”
“So they say,” she said.
(No link. I bloodied my goddamn finger typing this for you ingrates.)
