The Hardy Boys were gay

Can there be just one fucking thing from my childhood that didn't lead me down the path of iniquity? Check this shit out:

"In his diaries, my father talks about having to write another of those cursed books," the author's son told one interviewer, "in order to earn another $100 to buy coal for the furnace." He'd "inject his wonderful sense of humor," McFarlane's daughter once remembered, to make the writing project "palatable."

McFarlane's magnum opus was a 1929 masterpiece of dirty double meanings called — what else — The Secret of the Caves. Within a few chapters, an elderly male shopkeeper is warning the Hardy Boys and their two male friends to stay away from the mysterious beach because "There's some queer things been goin' on down there lately." And what exactly does that mean, asks the Hardy Boys' friend — Biff.

"Nobody knows. But there's been queer lights seen down around them caves. And shootin'. Guns goin' off. Mighty queer doin's, they say..."

Chet whistled softly. "This sounds good! We may stay longer than we had intended..."

Wikipedia says the word "queer" already had sexual overtones by the late 1800s. 

The four teenagers are on summer vacation, so there's time for some sleuthing. When they buy camping supplies, the old shopkeeper re-iterated again that it's a dangerous cave full of queer doins, and Frank "smiled at this thrust."

But his younger brother Joe was even more enthusiastic.

"The one thing we're afraid of is a quiet outing. Excitement," he added slangily, "is our meat."

"Ye'll get lots of it if ye go pokin' around them caves," the old gentleman predicted.

Chapter 17 veers suddenly into startlingly unwholesome territory.

Frank halted and peered through the fog at the base of the rocks some distance ahead.

"Do you see somebody lying there, Joe...? Seems like a man sprawled on the sand...."

The boys hastened across the rocks in the direction of the figure on the shore...

They came up to the man sprawled on the sand. He was not dead. An empty bottle lying by his side told the reason for his slumber.

"He's drunk!"

"What shall we do with him?" asked Joe.

Frank groped in his pocket and produced a length of stout cord.

"We'll tie him up first!"

"What if he puts up a fight?"

"He's too drunk."

They throw hat-fuls of water into in his face to revive him — but when he wakes up, they keep throwing more water at him.

"Hey! What's this?" roared the car thief indignantly. He had just discovered that his wrists were bound.

"Just a little joke," said Frank.

Water was streaming down the man's face. He was thoroughly aroused by now.

Shit, and here I thought I enjoyed those books for so many years because they were complex and engaging. Turns out they were just clicking my fag-button.

What am I gonna lose next, 'The Goonies'? Madeleine L'Engle? I hereby refuse to read any re-examinations of 'The Neverending Story', 'The Princess Bride', Jonathan Brandis, Dino-Riders, Mega-Man, Right Said Fred, or that sitcom with the girl-robot. I don't need any more essays gaying up an otherwise wholesome childhood. 

If I ever become a porn star, though, my name is definitely going to be Queer Doin's.