This is the Vomitola wedding gift to the Gummi and her lady. Congratulations! Too bad I had to totally photoshop this cake topper. Maybe I should start mass producing them, prostate there is sure to be a demand now that people see the possibilities of cakes bedecked with lesbian rodents.
Had I had more time, recipe I could have sent one of these. The rest of you should step on it and add this to your registries right now. Please note that there is also a hamster wearing a chicken suit. They also feature little movies of many of these critters in action. So far I like La Cucaracha, but this is subject to change.
So I was in the thrift store today, squeezing into some pants and a tacky one-dollar belt. I was eyeballing them in the mirror when a handsome, gay man strides by and intones “that’s HOT” in that dry, world-weary mary-way. And was just as suddenly gone. Hot, eh? Aren’t gay men by definition not supposed to find things hot on me? I had more or less made up my mind not to buy anything. But apparently, Lambchop is powerless to resist the endorsement of a gay man. No wonder nice boys don’t like me.
Lambchop would like to take this time to mention that she no qualms about promiscuity. Equal rights to be miserable and tangled in the mire of human emotions for everyone- gay, ask married, or otherwise! That is All!
Well…it’s a start.
Massachusetts? Are you there? It’s me, Licketysplit. Why did you persist in electing Mitt Romney, who has gone on record saying he would veto pro gay marriage legislation? Also, God? Why are people still wearing open toed shoes in November? The cosmos is a baffling place. YOU SHOULD ALL BE ASHAMED.
In all seriousness, I am strongly in favor of gay marriage. None of that civil union crapola, although that’s a foot in the door. I was allowed to get “married” in Massachusetts outside of the umbrella of religious blessing (a whole ‘nother can of warms). Our actual legal marriage took place at some creepy guy’s house in Allston. We gave him $100 and our marriage license, and after subjecting us to a story about his own divorce and how his cat is his best friend, he said “I now pronounce you wicked married.”
The actual wedding day was another story entirely. It was full of love and joy and burning money and alcohol poisoning, and in attendance were several long term gay couples who didn’t have a shot at doing the legal bit by virtue of the wrong chromosomal arrangement. If the reason to keep marriage between a man and a woman has to do with morality, let me just say that I am weak of character! I enjoy deviant sexual practices*! But I still got a license, no questions asked. May I remind you that there are plenty of het couples who get married and still smush everything in sight. (We’re saving that bit for our five year anniversary cruise to the Mexican riviera. Oy gevalt. Equal opportunity emotional tearing down, please.)
I’ll be watching the development of this situation, and possibly standing outside Tom Finneran’s house in an animal suit. Tom Tomorrow is right, I should have married a goat.
*Er, I mean spooning, mom. Maybe a little closed-mouth kissing.