I don't know if you've seen it yet, but if you're like me and two thirds of America, you need to see the new video from The National Organization for Marriage. It captures so perfectly the rights that are being impinged upon by gay marriage: the right to stop gay people from getting married. But what the video shows even better is something I've been aware of for some time. Gay marriage isn't about gay people: it's about me.
See, unlike the rest of the two thirds of America who don't believe in gay marriage, I'm attractive. I'm educated, funny, well spoken, and generally a pleasure to be around. I'm exactly what the gays want, and with my background in playwrighting and my past in theater, they already know that the homosexuals have a foot in my door.
Gay marriage is about turning me gay. After all, what else outside of my fear of not being able to commit myself to another person before the eyes of the government was stopping me from gaining a love of dick? I can already feel it starting. Since the decision in Iowa, I've noticed words creeping into my lexicon like Chiraz and Emory Board. I've begun to realize that D&G is a fashion label and that Monet is not. I'm even showering more. Gay marriage is trying to take vaginas out of my life forever.
I don't know what to do. A storm is gathering, and I know what's going to happen next. It'll start Raining Men. Every spe-ci-men.