Yr Wonkette is pleased to bring you a special guest bloogpost by longtime commenter ElviouslyQueer. And congratulations, EQ!
What has your intrepid correspondent, the beloved Elviouslyqueer, been up to this weekend? GLAD YOU ASKED! I was in Minnesota, at the Mall of America, getting my very gay ass™ very officially gay married on Saturday (there was a chapel! There were beads! There was booze galore, and delicious cake!). I even rode a mechanical bull, because I am classy and shit. My newly minted hubby and I continued celebrating the next day by going to Twin Cities Pride and laughing at the many, many scantily clad tweens for whom the “Dick Pocket” seemed to be this years’ de rigueur clothing accessory, before heading back to Mississippi. And, you also ask, was there a honeymoon? There was NOT a honeymoon because we are not richer than fuck and cannot afford a two-week long vacay to Mykonos or The Pines or wherever it is where all good gays go (we shopped, also too, so we are now officially the best-dressed poors in the Mid-South).
I did, however, take an extra day off so I could drive down to Tupelo andyell at bigotspay a “respectful and peaceful” visit to Bryan Fischer and the AFA. Tuesday was the first day of Mississippi’s brand-spanking-new Keep Out the Gays law, the same measure considered even too extreme for Jan Fucking Brewer to sign into law in Arizona. But our idiot governor, who is big friends with Bry-Bry, had zero problem rubbing his gubernatorial goodie bits all over the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, and so I (along with about 12 other folks from GetEqual Mississippi) decided to pay our respects to Mr. Fischer in person.
Our “respectful and peaceful” visit started at 10am, and it was hot! And not sweaty ripped bodies sexytime hot. Jungle heat and humidity hot. People from the AFA offered us bottled water, which we politely declined (we are queers; we brought our own bottled water. We are also not stupid enough to accept religious wingnut cootie water. They don't want our stamps, we don't want their liquids). We also talked to people! Yours truly engaged the AFA legal counsel in conversation, during which time he compared my newly minted marriage to going out for football. Quoth he: “Everybody can try out, but only certain people should be selected.” I am an English person, and I gave this analogy an F-minus. He also mentioned that he was happy that my husband and I had a 21-year friendship (shut up, we are old) but we most certainly did not have a marriage. Whereupon I replied, “Well, I don’t give a fuck what you think, because the state of Minnesota AND GOD say that I do in fact have a marriage.” In short, he was A Idiot.
Another AFA cretin then came up and invaded many peoples’ personal space. He was a mighty big girl, open-mouthed-munching popcorn, and he smelled bad. Which seemed appropriate, since he tried to mansplain evolution (“it’s never been proven to be a fact”) and astronomy (“how do you explain Mars?”) to us. He was also A Idiot, bless his heart. Finally, at 11: 30, we saw Bryan Fischer in person! He wished us a blessed day as he scuttled across the street to his studio, and he explained that he had to go and do his daily radio Letters From Batshit Corner. We had a sad that he did not mention throat-cramming or butt-plugging or anything like that. But it did give us the perfect excuse to say “fuck this noise” and adjourn for frozen margaritas and a tasty Mexican food buffet. Because seriously, in Mississippi, it’s not the heat, it’s the stupidity.
This has been your intrepid EQ, signing off for now. Mama needs another margarita and a nearby fainting couch.
It doesn't fucking NEED an explanation, it's just THERE!
Now, now. Football is totes gay.