My Satanic Gay Lifestyle

The End Times are coming. When a federal judge struck down the gay marriage ban in North Carolina, Ron Baity, pastor at Berean Baptist Church in Winston-Salem, N.C., announced to his glassy-eyed congregation that the end of the world as we know it was upon us. "My friend, we are meriting, we are bringing the judgment of God on this nation as sure as Sodom and Gomorrah was destroyed, don't be surprised at the plagues. Don't be surprised at the judgment of God. You think Ebola is bad," frothed Baity, "Just wait. ...If you think for one skinny minute, God is going to stand idly by and allow this to go forward without repercussions, you better back up and rethink this situation. I want you to understand, that is raw, pure blasphemy."

In 2012 Baity was quoted as saying, "For 300 years, we had laws that would prosecute that lifestyle. We've gone down the wrong path. We've become so dumb that we have accepted a lie for the truth, and we've ...discarded the truth on the shoals of shipwreck!"

The shoals of shipwreck! I don't know what that means but it's a great name for a death-metal band. "Sodomy!" a new album by the Shoals of Shipwreck.

I often wonder if people like Baity actually know what the gay lifestyle is like and just how humdrum it is. I think my gay lifestyle is pretty typical. Here's a rundown of yesterday, a typical gay day:

I woke up about 6.30 a.m. and kicked two whores out of bed. After Philippe and Antoine left, I made myself a very limp-wristed omelet and used feng shui to position the hash browns and ketchup on the plate, so the Qi could flow freely through my kitchen and into my anus. Breakfast was followed by bathroom time: a shower, a douche, a pit-shave, hair, nails, make up, dipping my face into a bucket of wrinkle cream, then squatting over a mirror to admire my newly bleached anus. I then got dressed in my leather chaps, tu-tu and bustier and sashayed to the laundry room singing Barbra Streisand's "People." I washed my powder-blue bra and panties that I wore onstage the previous night when I performed as Columbia Cartel at Mary's Leather Butthole Suck and Fuck Me In The Ass Bar.

Later that morning, Sebastian gave me a manicure and pedicure, and Eugene, my hair stylist, worked on my Marcel wave and Brazilian. After lunch with friends at the Enculé Pâtisserie, where I ordered the delicious Christian baby au gratin, I went to the gym and gave everyone in the steam room a complimentary blowjob.

Early evening, it was dinner with friends at El Marica, a Mexican transvestite restaurant, followed by a cocaine-fueled bar crawl, where I was fisted through a glory hole by complete strangers. When I got home, about 3 a.m., I knelt by the side of the bed and prayed to Satan:

"If it pleases you Beelzebubbles, I pledge to destroy the institution of marriage as we know it and toss Christians onto the shoals of shipwreck in the land of La-La."

Now that, Pastor Ron Baity, is a typical day in the gay lifestyle.