I support gay marriage, and I am not a lustful cockmonster

I'm breaking from my publishing schedule to make sure you read this. Because it's fucking great.

Baltimore Ravens linebacker Brendon Ayanbadejo has come out in favor of a Maryland bill that would allow marriage equality in the state. Fair enough. Maryland legislator Emmett Burns sent a letter to Ayanbadejo's boss – the owner of the team – saying that maybe he should tell his employee to shut his mouth and just play football.

In defense of cussing »

That prompted a response from Minnesota Vikings punter Chris Kluwe that begins by reminding Burns that freedom of speech exists and as such Ayanbadejo can support whatever bill he wants to support, and then goes on to light into the legislator:

why do you hate freedom? Why do you hate the fact that other people want a chance to live their lives and be happy, even though they may believe in something different than you, or act different than you? How does gay marriage, in any way shape or form, affect your life? If gay marriage becomes legal, are you worried that all of a sudden you'll start thinking about penis? "Oh shit. Gay marriage just passed. Gotta get me some of that hot dong action!" Will all of your friends suddenly turn gay and refuse to come to your Sunday Ticket grill-outs? (Unlikely, since gay people enjoy watching football too.)

I can assure you that gay people getting married will have zero effect on your life. They won't come into your house and steal your children. They won't magically turn you into a lustful cockmonster. They won't even overthrow the government in an orgy of hedonistic debauchery because all of a sudden they have the same legal rights as the other 90 percent of our population—rights like Social Security benefits, child care tax credits, Family and Medical Leave to take care of loved ones, and COBRA healthcare for spouses and children. You know what having these rights will make gays? Full-fledged American citizens just like everyone else, with the freedom to pursue happiness and all that entails. Do the civil-rights struggles of the past 200 years mean absolutely nothing to you?

Kluwe went on to explain why he wrote the letter and used the language he did.

A tip of the hat to Matt over at Life Without Pants for sharing this story with me. I love getting my blood boiling to start the week.

If you support marriage equality, share the crap out of this story. It's important.

And they’re not married, because? Oh yeah, right…

If you're in the Central New York area, you may have caught the piece back in August about Jeff Kramer donning a Winnie-the-Pooh costume to marry couples at the New York State Fair.

I like Jeff a lot. It's not about his columns – sure, he's funny, and he knows how to stir up trouble (oh the things I'm not allowed to tell you about) – I know him personally. He's a nice guy. Calls me Justin all the time, but I've been called worse. And I'd be saying that even if his hands weren't 18 inches across and he couldn't crush my head like it was a potato chip.

But a letter-writer hit it smack on the nose. Go on, she said, look me in the eye and tell me about the sanctity of marriage.

I was at a wedding this weekend. The officiant was the first one in tears. It was under a minute, by the way. The woman who accompanied me to the wedding had never met either of the couple, and she was crying. During the 10-minute ceremony, there were two rousing ovations, plus a third, standing one.

Of course, they're not married, because this is one of over 40 states and they're both women.

Sure, they own property together, have pets, are talking kids next year, maybe livestock, too. But nope, sorry, while you (quite clearly) love each other, your families and friends are totally gaga over your relationship, and you're even planning on that stuff that's supposed to make marriage sacred, you both have the same equipment, so it doesn't count.

Horseshit.

So, on the way to their honeymoon, they're going to make a stopover and make it legal, and hopefully that will stick – and they'll both be able to do things like, say, visit each other in the hospital and do the parent-teacher conference thing.