TIME TO TAKE MY PILLS

If you're wondering how folks in San Francisco are taking America's rapid slide into blinkered rightwing dingbattism, we're taking it surprisingly well. Mostly because we didn't expect much else from the rest of the country. We've always considered everything between the Oakland Hills and The East River to be Deliverance country anyway, with too many banjo players.
So this isn't any special shocking revelation to us.
Your mask slipped, that's all.


Most of it is small-minded villagers who by a process of natural selection and devolution have too few letters in their alphabet, banned all of the books in the local library, caught the clap from family members, swill crappy beer breakfast lunch and dinner, live off junkfood and carrion, and always vote the solid Christian Fundamentalist ticket, whether it's for the schoolboard, municipal trash collector, or president.
Bless their hearts.

We'll never visit there, because of the people in trailer parks outside of town who engage in cannibalism. They also vote the solid Christian Fundamentalist ticket, y'all.

But we love closet queens, all butch and hyper masculine during daylight.

If you can say 'Tom of Finland', you can say 'good ole boy'.
Our favourite music is resentful Country Western.
Well, besides Disco, that is.
And hymns.


Ooh, sexy, bitches.


Say 'hi' to Gooper and the no-neck monsters, y'all.



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