I was checking out some funny t-shirts the other day (thanks to Biggie T for the website) and I came across this one. I think it’s just awesome, but it got me to thinking about marriage. My boyfriend and I are not married and as we’ve been living in sin lo these many years I have come to several conclusions regarding the exalted institution.

Marriage is cool, but it really has nothing to do with god. Most of my friends are married and I can tell you that many of their receptions were, well, not holy. For them and for many, many people these days marriage is that thing you do when you realize you don’t want or need what anyone but your special someone is selling. Some people will tell you that to be truly committed you have to swear your love before god. That’s retarded. Assuming that your god knows all, doesn’t he already know how you feel? Is he really waiting for an invitation before he gives you his blessing? Come on people, let’s take the g-man out of this and call it what it is: two people excited as hell about each other wanting to tell the world how they feel. Also it’s a great excuse to get shit-faced in front of your family with no apologies necessary.

Marriage is ok for everyone. What the hell do I care who you marry? The government would be better off making it illegal for you to marry that guy who calls you his bitch than making it illegal for you to marry that girl who calls you her partner. There’s no law saying you can’t marry someone with a history of domestic violence who has beat the shit out of his last three wives, so why would there be a law saying you can’t marry someone who loves you and treats you like a queen? No pun intended. It just doesn’t make any sense. If you want to use family values as a platform against same sex marriage then you need to evaluate the partnerships based on those values. The ones that hold up will no doubt be the ones where two people have carved out a nice little existence filled with equity and hopefully the same taste in movies. The only prerequisite should be whether or not you can live happily ever after.

If some folks want to marry the same person and have some kind of crazy ménage a tois lifestyle who are we to say they can’t? It’s fine with me if you think Johnny is scrumptious enough to share with one or two (or 23 in Joseph Smith’s case) other ladies. It’s your bed, people, if you don’t care, why should we?

Let me just wrap this up by saying that if you want to marry your girlfriend or you partner or even somebody else’s partner that’s fine with me, just make sure you don’t invite that cousin who wears black jeans to all the "nice" functions, he’s really an eyesore.

LCK

1. I used to have a serious Beastie Boys fetish.

2. When I was about 12, I wrote a novella about a female rock band called "Mystery." All you need to know is that the lead singer broke her leg just before the big gig, and they said no to drugs.

3. My birthday is on St. Patrick’s Day. If you can think of a better day to celebrate every year, I’m all ears.

4. I have never seen Grease or Mary Poppins.

5. When I was a kid, I used to play the hell out of Oregon Trail and Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego:



LCK

If I had 300 million dollars I still wouldn’t eat ketchup out of a jar. That’s just dumb. My friend said if he won 300 million dollars he would buy an aircraft carrier and we could all live on it. Then for at least 5 minutes we described our new, rich lives completely in terms of The Hunt For Red October. One ping only.

If I really did have 300 million dollars I would first buy a ton of shit for myself. No doubt I would pay off and or buy new and or remodel any and all of my friends’ and family’s homes, but seriously, do you know how long it would take to formalize all that shit? In the meantime, I would buy so much worthless crap! I would have awesome beers imported for lunch everyday. Who gives a shit if I get drunk? People would rather I get drunk, because when I’m drunk there’s the possibility I would do something insane like fly all of us to Trinidad and Tobago just so I could figure out why it has two names. So really, I’m just giving the people what they want.

I would certainly buy an elected official if I had 300 million dollars. Maybe a sports team. That wouldn’t really be for me, but if you’re gonna have investments, they might as well be fun. And sometimes hot. I would also buy every copy of every DVD in the world. I could never watch them all, so it would be the ultimate paradox like the time the ninja had to not stab someone in order to save his town.

I would own a NASCAR team. Motley crew. They would get paid based on how ridiculous they could make the whole thing. Mustaches for all!

If I had 300 million dollars I would be in a constant state of skipping school.

LCK

Let me start by saying that I don't particularly like poetry. Poetry is done well by very, very few people, most of whom are dead or will never be famous enough to make a splash. I don't consider myself a poet, and I certainly don't aspire to be a poet. Having said all that, I wrote this a couple of years ago for a class and thought it fitting for today. Enjoy.

LOVE

Love is the way he takes your arm
With a smile that says:
You are not an accessory.

Love is a sweater
With holes you no longer see
And warmth that sticks to your skin

Love is giggling
When you are not supposed to.
(He started it)

Love is a soft bed after a hard day
And getting out of it
Before you are ready

Love is calling all seven dwarves
By their given name.
This includes Dopey and Grumpy.

Love has ears like a priest,
A 24-hour confessional
With a neon sign blinking:
Come in, we’re open.
Come in, we’re open.

Love is not an itch you can scratch,
A dog you can housebreak,
Or a secret you can keep.

Love is not a part of you,
You are a part of it.

LCK

CORPUS CHRISTI, Texas -- Vice President Dick Cheney accidentally shot a 78-year-old man in the neck while the two were hunting together on Saturday. Harry Whittington is recovering in stable condition, but is offended that Cheney thought he was prey, a local hospital worker said.

Cheney and Whittington have been hunting minorities together for years. "The thrill of hunting people is addictive," a fellow hunter told reporters. "The Armstrong Ranch is perfect because most of the workers there are immigrants. Cheney prefers hunting blacks, but they aren’t allowed at the ranch so we had to settle for Mexicans."

During a lull in the action on Saturday, Whittington apparently snuck up on Cheney intending to give him an atomic wedgie. The Vice President didn’t hear him coming, and when he spun around to shoot what he described as a "dirty wetback," he shot Whittington instead. Whittington’s wife told reporters that this is not the first time her husband’s sense of humor has gotten him hurt while hunting. "You know, I’m just not sure he understands the rules about this sort of thing."

After being shot, Whittington apparently "freaked the fuck out," according to a local ranch hand. "He just kept screaming 'You shot me you son-of-a-bitch, you fucking shot me!'" When Cheney realized what had happened he immediately ran to his friend saying, "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t tell George, don’t tell George."

Cheney visited his friend in the hospital soon after he was admitted. The irony of the Vice President’s fruit basket gift was not lost on Whittington who immediately started yelling, "I am not a fucking Mexican!"

No charges have been filed regarding the incident. Though Whittington is still a little upset, he has said that he and Cheney will remain BFF.

by Elsie Kay