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My Life Hasn’t Been the Same Since Those Fags in Canada Were Allowed to Get Married

Brannavan Gnanalingam



I made the connection the other day that the reason why my life is so terrible is because those gay people in Canada have been allowed to marry. A few months ago I didn’t get these jobs I applied for, I didn’t get an A in this test I didn’t study for, and I got the ‘flu. So it’s only natural to make the connection that all this occurred because people of the same sex in Canada have been given the right to marry each other. Iíve got a big article to write for Salient next week, and I canít even concentrate because all I can think about are those shit-shovers and cloud-chompers being allowed to get married to each other.
I read a chapter in the Bible the other day entitled ìLeviticusî which said that fags should not even be tolerated. That really spoke to me, because I also think fags should not be tolerated. Finally a religion that makes sense to the un-said bigot that we all have within us. I did read some later chapter when some dude called Jesus walked around saying “let he without sin cast the first stone”, or something like that. Now since the Bible doesn’t give any sort of moral code, I can safely say I am without sin. I can throw stones pretty good too ñ I once managed to get twelve skims on Lake Taupo. But even if I am without sin, who wants to listen to Jesus anyway? He hung around men, and all the Churches are currently telling people not to believe he ever got married. You know what he sounds like then? Gay.
But you know what disconcerts me most about gay people? They look like you and me. When I’m walking down the street I canít tell which person likes rolling around with their own kind. I walked into some bar called Dollar or Ruble or something and I couldnít tell whether that hot chick with the short skirt was a lollipop-licker or sucker. And I tried walking up to someone the other day in the street who was wearing a pink shirt and asked him if he was a ringmaster and he punched me in the face! How would I know that a well-dressed dandy could actually punch with a straight wrist? It would be easier if those kind of people walk around with some identifying feature, like black people or women. I heard pink triangles were in fashion some time ago.
But what does this have to do with Canada you say? Canada has helped create this uncertainty – if those queers can get married and you canít tell, how will we know if those queers are driving our buses, teaching our children, taking care of our stocks? How will we know if we ever travel to this gay paradise Canada, that our baggage handler won’t have handled some other guyís baggage or that our taxi driver has already taken a ride through tunnels? If you ask me, I’m never going to know whether my normal service was due to them doing their job, or whether it’s going to come at the cost of my pinkhole. In that case, I’m out.
The reason why I don’t have any gay friends is obvious. They may be hitting on you as you speak. You know how you have friends of the opposite sex because you want to sleep with them? It shouldnít work the same way with same-sex friends. What if I’m choking on a bone and I need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation? The last thing I’d be wanting is a bit of tongue from ole’ Gary the Grinder, my so-called mate.
So Canadian gays can marry each other. “So what?” you might say. What does a country of polar bears and American-derived accents mean to me? What if New Zealand, shock horror, decided to allow gay marriage? (We already have this pansy civil union thing but thatís just the government caving into those people and allowing a half-arsed marriage.) Allowing fag marriage will discriminate against all the people who legitimately get married, because I won’t be able to get married if other people can. Furthermore I donít want to consider how these marriages get consummated unless theyíre two hot chicks. Marriage will be devalued if loving ringmasters can love themselves in that way. I know my future marriage will be affected by the fact two people I have never met before got married. How can I maintain a loving and caring relationship with someone if I canít help but think that some people living in Ponsonby are doing the same thing? Marriage after all, is created solely for the purpose of children. Can Mr. Rodger and Mr. Fister have children? I donít think so. (This does not mean all childless couples shouldnít be allowed to get married – infertility is just unlucky genes.) Furthermore, all married couples have the right to beat their kids to a pulp with fan-belts. Can gay people do that?
To sum up, my life hasn’t been the same since those fags in Canada were allowed to get married.