Well, shit. I know for a fact that being a full-time Spinster, I’ll never get married, so if it means anything, Jim, you can have my punchcard for that Las Vegas wedding chapel with the fuzzy dice dingleballs all around the doorway and the Elvis impersonator who smells of cherry ripple and farts “love me tender” on cue. Because I’ll be damned if I ever use it.
Seriously, though: this H-8 is bullshit. Who gives a shit who you marry? It doesn’t matter if it’s man-woman, man-man or woman-woman. It’s all love.
And, no matter what the sexes, someone is still going to bitch about the other person not picking up that gallon of milk whilst on the way home from work. That’s marriage.
It is still beyond my understanding, too. It seems fear-based, that’s as far I can figure.
I like that guy.
Well, shit. I know for a fact that being a full-time Spinster, I’ll never get married, so if it means anything, Jim, you can have my punchcard for that Las Vegas wedding chapel with the fuzzy dice dingleballs all around the doorway and the Elvis impersonator who smells of cherry ripple and farts “love me tender” on cue. Because I’ll be damned if I ever use it.
Seriously, though: this H-8 is bullshit. Who gives a shit who you marry? It doesn’t matter if it’s man-woman, man-man or woman-woman. It’s all love.
And, no matter what the sexes, someone is still going to bitch about the other person not picking up that gallon of milk whilst on the way home from work. That’s marriage.