A sociological affliction. The fear of dialing that phone number found on the bathroom wall due to the fact the person who both wrote the message, and will now be answering the phone, is gay.
Sam sat on the crapper and looked at the wall to his right. "For the best BJ of your life call 555-555-5555." Sam was horny and he wanted to call, but he had a bad case of homophonia.
Lamont drank his last bottle of wine and laid down in the bus shelter. He didn't seem to care that the shelter reeked of urine or that a cockroach had been crawling on the ham sandwich he had for dinner. Instead, he closed his eyes and reveled in his hobophoria. He felt like he was floating on clouds of Wonder Bread.