You knew it was the gays' fault, obviously.
Fellow gays, we have bad news, and it is that coronavirus is our fault now. Granted, it's been our fault the whole time, because of how we are always gaying, and the Bible says that wherever two gays are found gaying, they are most likely scheming to make a hurricane or a rockslide or a coronavirus. It's kind of our thing, as we all secretly know.
Now, several scientific theologians have come forward to try to assess exactly how the gays caused coronavirus, with varying levels of accuracy. Pastor Steven Andrew of the USA Christian Church in California says March is "Repent of LGBT Sin Month," and that if we do that, we will be saved from coronavirus. A rabbi in Israel named Meir Mazuz says you know how the Ay-Rab countries don't have any coronavirus? (They do.) Well that's because they don't have any gays! (They also do.) Anyway, Mazuz says coronavirus is punishing the world for its gay pride parades, which makes us wonder what hot West Virginia Pride event we've been missing this whole time that's so badass that God decided to finally coronavirus the state.
Those are just a couple examples, but those guys can back the fuck off, because world's annoying-est Canadian wingnut and sometime-Fox News guest host Mark Steyn (that delectable hairball pictured above) guest-hosted the Rush Limbaugh show — you know, the place where they freak out about Pete Buttigieg tonguing his husband right on the mouth! — and explained what is really happening with the coronavirus lockdown in San Francisco. It is such a science-y explanation you are going to feel like you are literally married to Bill Nye The Science Guy by the end of this.
Back in February, seemingly out of nowhere, Brigham Young University in Utah changed its honor code to allow gay students to date. Because in case you didn't know, Brigham Young University's honor code prohibited gay students from being involved in romantic relationships and those found to be engaging in them could be punished or suspended. Much like Bob Jones University did with interracial couples until the late '90s.
Upon this announcement, BYU finance professor Jim Brau put out a video (which has since been taken down) explaining to his students why this was a blessing, especially for those of them who did not want BYU to do this — because after they leave BYU, they will have to live and work in a world where LGBT people exist and they will lose their jobs if they are shitty about that at work.
Congrats on all the peen tugs, Aaron. Any interest in saying you're sorry?
To the surprise of absolutely everyone, former GOP congressman Aaron Schock has officially come out of the closet. No, he wasn't out out yet, he had just been photographed tuggin' peen at Coachella and was always at West Hollywood gay bars and there was that damn "Downton Abbey" office when he was a congressman and there was that belt and those pants and that hot personal photographer Jonathon with an "O" and all the other gay stuff he seemed to be using campaign cash to pay for, but he was NOT OUT.
Now he is.
Schock made the announcement on Instagram, in a NINE-SLIDE EPISTLE about his story that you do not want to read under any circumstances. Therefore we will summarize it for you now in a couple or three run-on sentences, with all the charitable feelings we are able to muster:
Next time an openly gay presidential candidate kisses their husband or wife onstage, it won't be so novel.
Pete Buttigieg dropped out of the Democratic primary on Sunday. It was the right time, and he did it for the right reasons. Earlier in the day, he and other Democratic candidates had traveled to Selma, Alabama, for the 55th anniversary of the "Bloody Sunday" crossing of the Edmund Pettus Bridge, one of the seminal events of the Civil Rights movement. We noticed how friendly Pete and Amy Klobuchar and Elizabeth Warren were all being, and wondered if something was up. We are, after all, at a certain point in the primary — it's time to winnow down, and it's time to get up and go if you don't have a path to the nomination. We have to keep our eye on the ball to beat Donald Trump in November, which is just eight months from now. Pete Buttigieg, the young whippersnapper mayor from South Bend, decided to recognize that and be the bigger person, to put the country before his ambitions, and go.
Tom Steyer technically did it first, but he never had anything remotely resembling a path. But for a minute there, it looked like Buttigieg might. He won the Iowa caucuses by the tiniest hair, and he came in a strong second in New Hampshire. For a moment, the delegate leader in the Democratic primary was a 38-year-old gay mayor who kissed his husband onstage. For millions of gay kids, and millions more gay adults who are still — as pretty much everybody is — the child they always were, cloaked in the veneer and trappings of maturity, that was a big deal, whether or not they were personally supporting Pete's candidacy. It mattered that he was there.
Mayor Pete's speech Sunday night was one of the most passionate he's ever delivered. He addressed the historic nature of his campaign, saying it "sent a message to every kid out there wondering if whatever marks them out as different means they are somehow destined to be less than." He noted that every kid like that out there has now seen a "leading American presidential candidate with his husband at his side."
A leading presidential candidate. And he was that.