the BLs that almost feel as good as having fries daintily dipped into a creamy white yummy goodness known as a Wendy's Frosty on a hot, summer day in June before you drive back to your apartment and then wallow in sadness while reading BL in your room, with the door locked of course, because your religious family would rip you limb by limb if they found out you have a crippling addiction to illustrated gay porn.