Today is Obama’s birthday. He’s forty-nine. I bet the universe is handing him BUTTLOADS of cake. (Are you allowed to say “buttload” in front of the President? Are there rules about that sort of thing?) (The queen of England has rules. But she’s a monarch.)
I remember the night Obama was elected, I was super-duper-luper pumped. But then I heard something that made my tears of happiness turn to tears of fucking upset and disbelief. That’s right: Prop 8 passed. No gay marriage for all my beautiful California gays.
But today, almost two years later– and ON Obama’s birthday– I can finally have my moment of Obama/NO on Prop 8 zen. I have a bit of faith in my crazy crazy home state again.
BECAUSE PROP 8 is OVERTURNED! Ding dong, the witch is dead. YAYAYAYAY. Everybody stop reading this and go get married. Doesn’t matter if you’re not gay, or if you’re single. Just go get married. Go. Go. Go.
Did you go? Okay.
Just kidding. There’s no rush. (Until the next court case? Ughhhghghghgh.)
Marry for love, people. Let’s let everybody marry the people they love. ❤
I totally donated to EQCA, so I’m taking a little bit of credit for this one.