It's Annie the Musical in My Bathroom

I'm in the middle of cleaning the house right now, and as I went to put the surface spray away I noticed that my family keeps a toothbrush with the cleaning supplies. The strange things my family do disturb and amuse me.

Why Do You Cling To the Degenerate Shreds of Your Pathetic Ideals for America, Libtards?

I've abstained from commenting on politics for a while because: 1) I felt homicidal for a while there about the whole Obamessiah-in-the-Whitehouse dealio, and 2) I wanted to explore other creative writing ideas/commentary outside of politics. However, I believe the season for shameless abuse of the liberal agenda has returned, and I intend to re-acclimate myself to the political blogging environment with gusto.

Today, I will speak about Prop 8. Yes, I too thought it was over with back in November when we passed it, but apparently the Dhimmicrats don't share our sentiment. In my travels trolling across YouTube, I've found that the most delusional and stubborn* of liberals are still dragging their diseased claws across "Equality for All," in a desperate and laughable attempt to seemingly change the course of history and render the Californian people's decision void.

Gay gossip hound blogger is just trying to make the world a better place for his queer bros and hos! See how smiley-happy and totally non-creepy stalker-esque he is?!

Before I continue, let me get a few things out of the way: 1) I do not hate gays. I certainly do not agree with the lives they've chosen to lead, but I don't go around egging the houses of homosexual neighbors, either. In fact, I've met some very pleasant and enjoyable people who are gay. We've shared laughs and have carried on normal, non-controversial conversations. 2) I believe that homosexuals are my legal equals. I believe that they (given that they are American citizens) are entitled to any constitutional right that is extended to another citizen. Although I think what they're doing is wrong, I believe that homosexual partners should be granted civil unions if they choose to receive one. I do not believe that they're homosexuality inhibits their ability to work or be functioning, contributing member of society.

That being said, I also believe that homosexuals should not be allowed to: 1) be involved in the daycare, preschool, kindergarten, elementary, and junior high school education systems, 2) adopt children, 3) be married to a member of the same sex.

The last, of course, is what this post will be about. As I mentioned above, some of the Looney Left are still prostrating themselves at the altar of "gaysarepeopletoosotheyshouldbemarried." For all the reasons this is untrue, please check out the first post this blog ever saw. For a fresher, less political view on the subject, continue with me now.

Idiosyncratic '70s homosexual band, The Village People (wearing gay fantasy costumes *cough*).

First off, marriage originated as a religious ceremony. This means that the people it really matters to are religious -- and what I mean by "matters" is that, to them, marriage is the catalyst to have sex (sorry -- unavoidable), children, and in some cases safety from the streets, a job, and respectable social standing. To many religious groups, there is no alternative way -- no "different path" -- to take to achieve these things. It's set in stone, and nothing and no one can change it without open defiance and disregard to their religion. What I'm trying to say by all this is that to a lot of people, marriage is more than just a contract of love like it is to secular humanists; it's a door opening into a new world and completely different life.

Jumping to a slightly different topic, there is not one major religion that endorses homosexuality. Not Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism . . . Do you see where I'm going with this?

See: they're just like you and me! *joke, don't lynch me*

Well, if marriage to you is what I described above, then you shouldn't be homosexual. Period. It's not judgmental, it's not exclusive, it's just the way it is. This means that if you're gay, then not getting married isn't barring you from anything (except, perhaps, a shiny state certificate as proof of marriage and a lacy white dress and/or overpriced tux) -- you won't be forced to die a childless, homeless, jobless, lower class virgin like some of us forever-singles.

So bitch and moan all you want, but you're just acting like greedy kids complaining that Robbie has a shinier firetruck than you.

I'm aware that some people would argue, "So what? So it's a rite intended for religious people, but what's it gonna hurt to let the gays in? It's not like it will take away from the weddings of any straight people." And to that I say, "Kindly STFU, sir, you clearly don't know what you're talking about."

Please excuse this poor analogy I'm about to give you: it would be like if you wrote a book, and it had your name, your thoughts, and your ideas written in it. Anyone who gave even the briefest glance would be able to see what you represented. Now say some kid comes over and scribbles his thoughts and his ideas in the margins, and writes his name on front next to yours. Yes, the book hasn't technically changed -- it holds the same purpose, and accomplishes the same function as before. But it's been marked by someone else now, and people who look at it will see not only your original ideas, but all the ideas of the punk who vandalized your property, too. It's no longer in a pure form, but being shared by someone else that you don't respect or agree with. When people see the two of you sharing the pages, they'll assume that you're in it together.

"I'm gay as a daffodil, my dear." -- Freddie Mercury

Do you understand the point I'm trying to make? People would look on homosexuals allowed to marry as religious groups accepting the gay community, which couldn't be further from the truth.

Anyway, a bit long-winded, but I'm glad I'm back in the political swing of things. I hope to have similar liberal-shredding posts up soon. Comment if you're sick of hearing about gay "rights."

It was the gayest rainbow picture I could find, okay? I did my best.

*I know that this is an especially hard condition to envision, given how concerningly detached from reality any "normal" liberal is. For the sake of example, though, I implore you to imagine Rosie O'Donnell and Michael Moore's child times a gulloopatrillion. Actually, for the sake of your sanity, don't do what I just said. Just . . . run with the basic idea. But seriously, for all that is good and holy, please don't try to visualize that coupling.

Snow White Disgusts Me

I will never ever never let my kids read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Or watch the movie. Or own the Barbie. Never.

You want to know why?

Because it's disgusting, that's why.

At first glance it seems okay, right? The seven little men living alone in the woods is, admittedly, a little weird, but who are we to judge? But that's at first glance.

The other day, my mom and I were pondering over this particular work of fiction. Why? we asked ourselves, do the dwarfs have such strange names? And why is Snow White so nice? And why did Disney deviate so far from the original story in the creation of the movie?

Then the oh-so-true truth dawned on us. The sick, horrible truth: Snow White is a commercial endorsement of drug use, psychosis, and mild disorders.

Allow me to expound:

Doc

He's the pre-med dropout/alcoholic. After showing up drunk to class for the third time, he was "let go" from his courses. And given a restraining order. When the dwarfs realized Doc couldn't act as their supplier anymore, they moved out into a secluded wood to wean themselves off their addictions. It didn't work. Doctor Dipso's constantly red nose (I mean come on -- he can't get sunburned in a mine), beer belly-paunch, and onsetting wet brain do little to disguise his addiction. (Not to mention, an alcoholic doctor. Come on, man -- spare us the irritating cliche.) Luckily for him, the A-type personality and delusional optimism that keeps his drug circle droogies in line also keeps Grumpy's knife at bay.

Dopey

It's a sad day for humanity if I have to explain this one. He's the hippie pothead, originally too scared to try anything hardcore, and now too brain damaged to care one way or another. He's the luckiest of the seven, as the forest provides a fertile environment to grow and harvest his marijuana, so he never has to go without a fix. The green-suited dope fiend is probably also sharing in Doc's booze supply (note beer belly, red nose, and vague, swimming demeanor).

Sleepy

He's the resident barbiturate addict. Ironically, he wasn't a druggie before moving out to the woods, but his brothers' compulsive and violent withdrawal behaviors sent him running for escape . . . which he found in sleeping . . . all the time . . . with the help of downers. Sleepy has been known, at times, to substitute alcohol for drugs, curling up with a bottle of Scotch (Doc's Scotch) and crying himself to sleep. It's a clinical depressive thing -- you wouldn't understand.

Sneezy

Tell me, what drug is taken through the nose, hurting the nostrils and causing uncontrollable nosebleeds and sneezing? That's right -- he's on a regular diet of Bolivian Marching Powder, this one. Unfortunately for our little cokehead, during the making of Snow White he was in the habit of blowing a rail every night, leaving him with sick hangovers right out some cliche drug movie and nasty-tasting postnasal drip during filming. (His inexplicably retarded behavior -- EXPLAINED: the man was using Doc's liquor stash to counteract splitting cocaine-induced headaches. He did fabulous considering how plastered he was.)

Grumpy

Originally, Grumpy was a heroin addict. Seeing as how his dealer wasn't willing to tramp into the happy bunny forest where the dwarfs relocated to exchange the goods, though, he made the switch to methadone in hopes of coming off his dependency altogether. He failed. As a result, though he's been spared the seemingly inevitable opioid withdrawal syndrome, the methadone has left him and without any of the euphoric effects of heroin, leaving him a right crotchety old jerk (and completely stabilized, mind you, meaning he can continue his pissy behavior right up to his death).

Bashful

A chronic sufferer of social anxiety disorder, Bashful turned to self-medication within the SSRI family of drugs when Doc got his hands on some Paxil. (Side note: Bashful used to be a rather trim little thing, but as paroxetine causes serious weight gain, he's now running (no pun intended) at about forty pounds over.) His condition being so severe that the ingestion of any more pills would result in heart failure, Bashful also frequents Doc's alcohol supply -- Coors Light, to be exact, which keeps a nice buzz going without causing (too) serious an impediment to his mental faculties, and also doesn't contribute (too) heavily to any further weight gain.

(It may be worth mentioning here that most of the dwarfs are burgeoning alcoholics, courtesy of Doc. It was unavoidable, really, given that alcohol is the universal substance to abuse.)

Happy

I'm of the personal opinion that men this morbidly overweight should not even attempt cultivating facial hair, as it makes them out to be some sort of deranged Santa. And by God, I was right. Albeit, in this case, it's more of an overly-friendly a la Captain Kangaroo, potato sack shoe-wearing, strangely shaped hat-sporting deranged elf of Santa, but my point remains, nonetheless. Anyway, I think it should be clear to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that that not only is Happy a chronic overeater, but is also, not surprisingly, on "happy pills." Ecstasy. Lord knows all the symptoms match up: enhanced sense of self-confidence and energy, feelings of closeness and the desire to touch others, as well as peacefulness, empathy, and acceptance. Now if only there were medical terms to explain away that blasted horn he insists on playing, and we might actually be getting somewhere.

Snow White

If you thought the dwarfs were bad, just wait till I fill you in on Snow White. Although she doesn't participate in substance abuse (on a regular basis), Snow White does have deep and concerning psychoses. First and foremost, she displays indulgence in fantasies and escapism (through manual labor) to such an extent that she is barred from reality. We first see this shown in the beginning when she is singing that "one day her prince will come" while performing tedious and straining cleaning under the abusive jurisdiction of her stepmother. These could very well have stemmed from a desperate attempt to put up walls against her stepmother's maltreatment, having evolved in such a way that she has mentally separated herself from this plane. Another point of interest is her weak-to-the-point-of-nonexistent personal boundaries and a thwarted maternal drive that we see manifested when she joins up with the dwarfs. Perhaps these are just subsets of her fantasies (refer to her seemingly inherent need for a prince?), or another thing altogether, but we've got trouble in River City either way.

I won't even bother asking if I've converted you, because I know I have. And because I'm not quite satisfied with the low amount of potential scarring this post already contains, here:

Ms. Bowie wishes you a Merry (very belated) Christmas on behalf of myself.

Oh yeah -- and Happy Valentine's Day and all that jazz. Huzzah. (If you're cynical like me you call it Singles Awareness Day, and we should meet over coffee sometime.)

Well, Brandon, You Were Right

I'd like to consider myself a humble individual. I'd like to think that when a times comes that I am proven wrong (a rare occurrence indeed), I'm able to suppress my ego and admit it.

Now is one of those times.

Brandon: You were right and I was wrong. David Bowie really is a woman.

He (she?) was pictured here with actor Will Smith at a charity gala in NYC on Wednesday.

Well snaps and claps to you, Brandon. I never saw this one coming.

I'm just . . . stunned, really. I mean, I had my suspicions all along, of course (not that I ever admitted those to anyone), but I never expected him/her to come out even if he/she did turn out to be . . . you know . . . a female.

This is devastating and more than a little awkward.

(P.S. Is it just me or is Bowie looking a little fat?)