Was reading an article on Yahoo today about this town in Mississippi that canceled prom because a young woman wanted to come to prom dressed how she wanted to dress and with whom she wanted to come with.

That doesn’t sound so bad, does it? I imagine that most of you who went to prom wanted the same thing. The ability to go to prom with who you wanted and dressed how you wanted to dress.

Oh, ho! But there in lies the rub, this girl is an evil, gay agendaed lesbian! She wants to ruin the morals of everyone around her!

If you agree with the above statement I have one for you from me: Fuck you! Fuck you in the asshole with a big rubber dick then break it off and beat yourself with the rest of it. Of course if you’re so fucking anal as to agree with that… your asshole is probably clenched so tight it’d take the jaws of life to pry the damn thing open.

My god, when will these people learn. How does a girl going to a dance with another girl hurt you? How the fuck does it cause you harm? What is it the haunting fear that someone somewhere might be happy for two seconds because obviously your own life is so miserable you have to escape it by going and ruining everyone else’s!

If you don’t like the idea of girls sleeping with girls then don’t sleep with a girl who sleeps with girls! If you don’t like the idea of guys sleeping with guys, don’t sleep with one of those either! But to tell these people that they have no right to be themselves, that’s wrong!

If I remember my bible correctly it says judge not lest you be judged. By the measure to which you judge others, you too will be judged. And didn’t Jesus, big #1 in your books, say “He without sin shall cast the first stone.”?

Why is it that these people won’t live by the rules that they say are the most important? If the bible is really your go to place for how you should live your life. Why is it that treating others how you want to be treated, not judging people, and loving your neighbor like yourself fall by the wayside, so that people can chase after an agenda that doesn’t follow those things. And the worst part of all of that is: They use that good book, (which how I, personally feel about the Catholic church and a lot of Christian organizations, I feel that it is a good book. Be it the word of God or just the word of some really wise men.) they use that good book as “proof” to further their own agendas.

You wanna know something subversive? It says once: Man shall not lie with man as with woman. It has variations on: love thy neighbor as thyself permeated through the entire book. If the bible really is God’s word, which do you think is more important? Something he said once, or something he made sure to say over and over and over again?

And I went to a prom where homosexuals weren’t allowed to come together, the prom committee, many of whom went to my grandparents’ church, refused to sell tickets to the few people who were openly homosexual in our high school. One of those couples was a pair of dear friends of mine, Nate and Troy. So Sabrina and I bought tickets and Nate went with me and Troy went with Sabby.

And every dance they danced together (cause Nate danced all night and I don’t dance.) was like a finger in the eye of all of those self-righteous pricks.

I will leave you with a thought I read in a political cartoon:

Why are minorities singled out for “special rights”?

… Because they’re singled out for special wrongs…

NOBODY CARES!

Of course I immediately wonder what the hell I did to piss him off. But it turns out that it wasn’t me at all. Apparently there’s a Dateline special on the whole Tiger Woods debacle and he was yelling at the TV that nobody cares. And given my own private poll, 100% agree with that. Nobody cares. (Granted my poll was rather exclusive, considering it was me and Kellie and Juleah, but it’s a poll and I stand by my numbers damn it. Of my friends who are at home on Friday night with nothing better to do than talk to me, which I think reflects a good chunk of the population: Nobody cares!

Really the only place I care much about celebs is on Go Fug, which is like the best celebrity fashion blog ever, the Fug girls are HILARIOUS and there is not better place for your daily dose of celeb nips, sartorial missteps, and heavy sarcasm. If Tiger Woods isn’t wearing a fur stole and a pink tutu while dancing to Miley Cyrus, I couldn’t care less what he’s doing. And as when I see him he’s usually wearing a boring white polo and khakis or slacks, he wouldn’t be much fun to see on Go Fug anyway.

But really, who CARES about who–or for that matter WHAT–Tiger Woods is sleeping with. As Kellie pointed out, he’s a sports star, why do his morals even MATTER? Does sleeping with his wife directly influence his ability to sink difficult puts? Does extra side nookie take yards off a drive? Does molesting underage goats (disclaimer: I have not even heard rumors that Tiger Woods sleeps with goats, of an age or not, this is solely here for the point of effect1)  cause him to slice or hook?

Why does it matter who he’s sleeping with, and where, and when, and for how many jelly beans?! (I dibs the sour apple ones! And the Cold Stone Creamery ones if the beans in question are from Jelly Belly.)

I’m not sleeping with him! I have no intention of sleeping with him. So give me one good reason why I should give a rat’s ass WHO he’s sleeping with or why?

I figure the only people that information is important to is the people who are sleeping with him. As we’ve just established that ain’t me. And even if I were bound and determined to sleep with Tiger Woods (which the closest I’m likely to  ever come is falling asleep with the TV on while the PGA tour is on some other station than the one I’m watching.) I would only start to care about who he’s shagging when it’s very likely I’m next.

His morals do not matter. Sure, he’s yet another squeaky clean celeb (doubly so a squeaky clean BLACK celebrity) who has fallen victim to the the excesses of fame. Which is sad, because I think the world needs more celebs who don’t have sex tapes or mistresses or rape charges or beat up their girlfriends.

But do I think this whole thing is so NOT newsworthy. When Andy Warhol said that in the future everyone would have 15 minutes of fame I don’t think he meant by fucking someone. Go forth, do good things, and if fame comes, okay, great. Don’t go earning yourself a name on your back–or god forbid on a bondage machine–with some guy who earned his celebrity the hard way.

The only thing I think that is the slightest bit amusing about this whole Tiger Woods thing is the mental image, if Mr. Woods were sleeping with goats is the mental image of some newscaster in a pen with goats trying to interview the friends and family of the goat in question:

“And you, sir–er–ma’am you’ve known the goat for how long? Larry, is that a boy goat or a girl goat? Hey! Don’t chew on my microphone! Oh god, what did I just step in? Does my expense account cover getting goat smell out of my suit?! LARRY, get me outta here!”

And on that note, I shall leave you.

1. I do not want to end up on 60 Minutes as someone with inside information on Tiger’s steamy affair with a nubile young goat.

…I bet it’s not like THIS…

I was looking at Scooby Doo movies on Netflix when Juleah got on this afternoon. So I more or less spammed her upon arrival with “Scooby Doo!” to which she responded “Moose?” Because usually Moose is my nonsequiter for when I have nothing better to say… Usually hers is Banana. *shakes head* you develop some quirks after years of being friends, you know?

So then she said “Scooby Doo and the haunting of the Weremoose.” Just random thing that came to her mind. And I said “actually that could be awesome, I wonder if you could add porn to that.” Not because Scooby Doo really needs porn, I’m sure it exists, but most people don’t really spend a whole lot of time thinking about it. But because I can never write fanfiction without including some porn. It’s a… personality quirk…

So Juleah said she didn’t know, but it could work if it were well written. Which of course it would be, everything I write is well-written. *coughs* So fast forward a couple of hours and she’s decided to start coloring on the picture that I drew for my top banner. (She wanted to and I’m egotistical enough to be flattered. Heh, I take after my dad, who knew.) And I said I needed something to do–which was true, I did. And so I said “I’m torn between drawing and writing Scooby Doo Porn.” And she said “middle road? drawing Scooby Doo porn? though forget I said that.”

And my damn art muse goes *boing* instant idea. This is wrong. I love Scooby Doo, but I really never needed to see the characters in it–um–and of course I’m not one for straight porn. I like mine gayer than little Richard’s underpants…

So I ask Juleah (quite unnecessarily, I’m almost 99.999999999% positive that she is) if she was kidding, cause my muse is now inspired and she said yes, she was, but far be it for her to stand in the way of an inspired muse. (Are you fluffing kidding me? Of course you should stand in the way of me doing terrible things to poor, innocent, unsuspecting, beloved cartoon characters! I mean Smurfs are different. Smurfs are annoying and make me wanna drown them, who cares if I draw their wonder worms. But I LOVE Scooby Doo!)

So I tease and say “… But not so far from you wanting to invent a time machine and go back in time to before you suggested me drawing Scooby Doo porn?” and she tells me that Kai (Juleah’s muse of distractions and random behavior) or Luke (My muse of bad thoughts) would be there to slip her up again.

Then… sadly… *small shamed voice* I… I actually drew Scooby Doo porn… Well, technically it was just Shaggy and Fred necked as jaybirds, with happy Mr. Happys in close proximity to each other. But, it’s porny enough for practical purposes.

But out of this came a great little cartoon of Juleah’s muses with Kai tied to a chair and gagged. So, all’s well that ends well, right?