I Am a Gay!

All the world loves a Kerry-lover

I blame meningitis.

And Kedric? That will teach you to ever even ponder, ever again, whether my son is anything less than perfect—at least, besides being a bit of a pussy. And only I'm allowed to say so; when faced with evidence of puss-ness, you must chuckle gently and in a nonjudgmental way.

I was going to leave you with A Review of Outfoxed by Commie Mom (me, I was home—for SIX DAYS), but except for the phrase "pulled things out of his butt," it wasn't very good. My mom's review, that is—not the movie. She recommends you see it.

Instead, I'll leave you with my gay's report on the newest gay club in Westminster, Blue, where he went Friday night while I was home; did I mention my baby was sick? I think he had encephalitis. "Great space, nice sound system, mixed crowd (what crowd there was) of lesbians and gays, guys and girls, whites, Asians, and Latinos. Empty. Would be fun if people showed up."

I'll be first in line next week. Why? How glad it makes me to say: I am a gay!

Love a gay:

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