It's Gay Pride weekend. I wish I didn't know that, but here I am. This is what happens when all your straight friends crap out kids at once. All that's left is the gays.
"I hate when you say crap out kids," a wincing Katrina always interjects at this point.
Sorry. This is what happens when all your straight friends crap out little miracles.
I think three or forty more uses, and I'll officially retire that joke.
So in the shadow of New York legalizing gay marriage and Hollywood celebrities scrambling to approve the loudest, we have Gay Pride weekend.
"I'm kind of jealous," I told Madam. You get parties and parades and floats and booze, all to celebrate your pride in who you want to have sex with. Whereas I'm ashamed of who I want to have sex with."