When Gay-Supporting Republicans Attack!

 - by Aunt Johnny


I had dinner at the McCain’s a few nights ago. Let’s just say it wasssssssss…..awkward.

It had been ages since I’d seen my good friends – so I was excited about our lovely evening of dinner and board games. You may not know this, but John is exceptionally good at Candyland. Cindy was making her world famous turkey chili, and John was [as usual] in charge of dessert – fat free coconut sorbet sprinkled with Lipitor.

Things started out normal enough. It was the usual chit chat. I was catching John up on all the goings on in my life – my on again-off again-on again-off again relationship with Kanye West, the new curl enhancing balm from KMS that has changed my life, my love of Cheetos….you know, stuff you talk about with close friends. Meghan made a batch of her delicious pomegranate mojitos. It was just like old times.

But then….well, it got weird.

We were playing a lively game of Twister…and it was down to me and John. He’s a wiry little spark plug! Who knew he could back bend and drink mojitos at the same time? I was sprawled out like mangled roadkill, and wincing in pain as I was trying to put left foot on yellow – when Cindy dropped the bomb that she (along with Meghan) had posed for the NOH8 Campaign that opposes Proposition 8.

John collapsed right on top of me.

You should know right now that I’m not one to involve myself with politics. The McCains know this about me – and it’s one of the reasons they are so endeared to me. I keep things light. So I was not very comfortable when the feuding couple put me right in the middle and forced me to take sides.

“Ok, look,” I said, “John, I get that you think that a marriage is between a man and a woman. I think it’s cool that you’ve accepted Meghan and her openly lesbian lifestyle – but at some point, you have to realize how contradictory your personal life and political agendas are – and make a decision one way or the other. This isn’t a bisexual swingers club. You can’t have it both ways.”

When I said this, Cindy just smiled triumphantly – as though she had just found a Chanel pants suit on the 70% off rack.

So I looked at her and said, “I don’t know what you’re so smug about Missy. This is an abomination, and goes against everything we Republicans believe in. You just spat in the face of all that we espouse in our politics! We support order among the people. Good Christian values. If the queers are allowed to marry, what will be next? Allowing lesbians to work at UPS? Opening up our hair salon doors to fags? Then¬† what would we have? We’d have haircuts that compliment our bone structure and packages delivered on time. It’s madness, I say. Madness!”

Cindy just sort of looked at me….stunned. Meghan didn’t seem to be paying attention. She was busy on the couch gnawing on her toes. She’s a little strange, that one. John was smiling now.

“This country doesn’t need gay marriage,” I went on to say, “In fact, I was just having this conversation with my boyfriend Kanye West while we were fitting him for a harness the other day. The deviant gay lifestyle will be the downfall of this great nation if we allow our laws to support their perversions. And when I unzipped Kanye’s leather hood so he could speak, he agreed too.”

From there, I hugged it out with Cindy – and told her she looked fierce in the photo. Because, well, she did. After dessert, John and I played our traditional game of strip poker – and then called it a night.

When I got home, I found my boyfriend Kanye West in a compromising position with Bill O’Reilly and Connie Chung. So I had to break up with him. Again.

Love ya like a little T & A with my GOP,

Aunt Johnny

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