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I realize it has been a while since I checked in. I just find that lately I don’t have any thing to say that isn’t a whine about my stomach, how insane the political frenzy is making me, or how depressing it is to be a responsible adult who is also a gay man.
This week marked the tenth anniversary of Matthew Shepard’s murder.
It was also National Coming Out Day.
And it was announced that the Proposition 8 religious freak goons are outspending us 2 to 1 on ads. And the ads are full of disgusting lies about the “certainty that gay marriage will be taught to first graders.”
The phrase “activist judges” makes me want to vomit. Following the letter of the law and enforcing it is not activism. Insisting that civil unions are the same as marriage and forcing your religious beliefs and purportedly superior moral code on the rest of society is activism.
I fear we will lose this battle. It does not mean losing the war, but it does mean more casualties, more money, and less time for me and my friends to get back to decorating our lush apartments, styling celebrity hair, eating newborn babies, and lusting after all those ugly bald paunchy men who draw their wives closer when they walk anywhere near a Pier One.
See, there I go on a tangent. I should not have access to the internet while high on vicodin.




















