Dear Fags…


Secret Gay Lair, San Francisco, CA

Dear Fags,

  My boys and I are on vacation right now in Tennessee, taking a scenic railway trip.  It’s very nice, except for one thing.  I looked out of the window of My private car this morning and I saw the most horrific thing it has been My unhappy lot to ever see.  A bunch of people holding up signs that said “Fags Hate Gawd“.  In bright, rainbow colors, no less.

  What I want to know is, what the hell did I ever do to you?!  You are picking a fight you can’t win.  I have smote people for much less.  In fact, I was so wroth when I saw those signs that I smote the first innocent person I saw.  Now when that nice young porter with the “Friend of Kenny” tattoo gets home he’ll find that his wife has left him and his favorite Dirty Harry movie has magicked into “Boys Don’t Cry“.  And he didn’t do anything to Me.  Just imagine what I’ll do to you!

  Dammit!  I’ve always been LGBT-friendly.  You think the angels are straight?  Hell, no!  They always had the day off on Judy Garland’s birthday.  Wow!  This really feels like a stab in the back.  I am going to cook up something especially nasty for you guys.  Some kind of Edgar Allan Poe device would…

. . .

  Huh.  Fellas?  Those signs I was talking about?  Well, Hippie Jesus just popped in to see when We were eating lunch, and He tells Me the signs said Gawd Hates Fags.  I couldn’t be more embarrassed.  I mean…  That’s just…  Well, it’s not true.  You know that, right?  I told you about the angels.  Hell, some of My best friends are fags.  Look at Archangel Michael.  Bent as a Chicago cop.  Queer as a Bonobo.  Why, the guy that styles My beard is most probably a poof.  He does a damned fine job of it, too.  I always tip him a little extra so he won’t think I’m prejudiced.

  Okay.  Look.  Now that I think about it, what would you be doing standing in front of a high school in Huntsville, TN, holding up signs that said “Fags Hate Gawd”?  It doesn’t make any sense, does it?  I mean, you’d have to be squirrel-nut, bug-eyed fucking crazy to do that, right?  Of course, that does beg the question, “Who the hell is standing in front of a high school holding up signs that say ‘Gawd Hates Fags’,”?  That’s pretty fucking nuts, too.  In 6,000-some-odd years I haven’t seen anything quite that weird, and I knew Caligula.

  So who the hell is using My name in vain?!  That kind of cheeses Me off.  I’m going to wrap this postcard up so I can find out who I ought to be smiting.  No hard feelings about the misunderstanding, right?  To make it up to you, let Me impart to you some of the accumulated Wisdom of Gawd.  This is just for you, and it’s not something I make a habit of.

  Here goes.

  The next time you’re in Austin, TX you absolutely must stay at the Hilton Austin.  There’s this pretty little concierge by the name of Jessica who always steers Me to the best restaurants.  Tell her Gawd sent you and she’ll set you up.  She’s a peach.  I can’t say fairer than that.

Wish You Were Here,



8 responses to “Dear Fags…

  1. I can’t decide which is more disturbing, this sad defeat or the photo on this postcard. 😯

  2. I’m afraid one is a symptom of the other. If people didn’t teach their children heinous, blood-dripping fairy tales, there would have been no “Yes on 8”.

  3. It makes me nuts that they even MAKE those shirts in kids’ sizes. If you want to walk around as a magnet for lightning, you’re just stupid. If you put that crap on your kids, you’re evil. (Not to mention tarting up two beautiful little faces. Cuz, y’know, to some of these bottom-feeders, “loving” your little daughters isn’t wrong. Loving another person of the same sex is wrong.)

  4. I’m afraid one is a symptom of the other. If people didn’t teach their children heinous, blood-dripping fairy tales, there would have been no “Yes on 8″.

    Depressingly true and truly depressing. 😦

  5. mutzali,
    Until you said that, I assumed the younger one had been drinking kool-aid… well, actually, I guess that’s just what she was doing.

  6. Dear Gawd,

    Thanks for setting correcting the record. Some of your brand-loyalists have been confusing the hell out of a lot of people regarding your attitudes about sex. In my role as your Chosen Chaplain, I’ve been telling people that you don’t give a damn what they do as long as they’re consenting adults. And as long as they keep your vacation fund in the black.

  7. That’s pretty much dead-on, Chaplain. Although I think He’d arrange His comments something like;

    Tithe for the vacation fund.
    Consenting adults.
    Did I mention the vacation fund?

  8. Pingback: Dear James Dobson… « “Gone Fishin’: Postcards From God”

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