“God chose me for that moment. He knew that I would not only be the one to stick up for him and the truth but also he knew I was strong enough to get through all the junk I had been through.” –Carrie Prejean, runner-up Miss America 2009
Mom says God doesn’t choose anyone because we are all his chosen people no matter how fucked up we are or become. Mom says she would totally like to date you if she were a full time lesbian and if you were in to it but since she works so hard for gas these days she doesn’t have time or the patience to have a relationship with a bat. At least that is what she says. It’s a rough life, working two jobs for tips without health insurance or a real husband. She’s the demented bartender at an Irish Pub and the only thing she thinks about when she gets home is ham—and sticking up for herself.
“That fucking God,” she bitches, smashing her meaty fist against the stove. “Never gives me a fucking break.”
Mom really loves ham, barbeque, and whiskey too. I guess the beer gut is the reason why she’s never been Miss Anything. Or maybe it’s because she curses so much in church. Either way Carrie, mom says junk is a hard habit to kick. She wishes you the best of luck and wants to know what planet you are on.
Miss (or Ms.) Prejean, I would totally date you too but I haven’t decided yet if I’m into men or women, frogs or pigs. Give me some time but for now I’ve got other things on my mind. For example, I’m thinking about the spectacle you made of yourself at the Values Voter Summit this week. By the way, I adore your headshot on the home page, ooh la la, I might be gay. You really are the beauty queen that I will never be.
Miss Prejean, I want to address your address to the crowd but first I want to address your posture on stage, especially the way you faux paused and almost cried. In your speech, you mentioned that you’ve had all kinds of pageant coaches, such as a walking coach, speaking coach, and even an accent coach because people thought you were from the Midwest. I chuckled when I heard that. I thought the same too. In any case, I assume you also had an acting coach and/or a drama queen coach besides all the other coaches because you did an excellent job emoting on cue when you spoke about the offensive question posed to you at the pageant. Question posed: “Vermont recently became the fourth state to legalize same sex-marriage. Do you think every state should follow suit? Why or why not?”
Carrie, I thought you should have bawled, shed a thousand tears and ruined your mascara for everyone wronged by the idea of gay marriage, or universal healthcare, or polyps. You should have run off stage and called the cops. You should have strongly denounced the homosexual agenda for what it is or wants to be: a loving family.
It would have been absolutely fabulous.
Not as fabulous though as the applause you got when you talked about your stance against gay marriage at the Values Voter Summit. I know. It was tough for you, climbing to the top of the summit, the ladder than separates you from me. I hope you burnt it so I can’t get to you. I can’t imagine the junk you had to deal with—Perez Hilton of course, the nuclear glitter fallout, make-up and wardrobe fittings, not eating fried chicken or getting close to anything fried, like chicken, or getting fired by Donald Trump, not getting to sleep with Donald Trump, the release of your X-rated booby shots, which mom adores by the way, the Lady Gaga speaking tour, the book tour, and now your new role as the second coming for the religious right.
God chose you to speak on his behalf, you said. Alright. God chose me to speak back to you on his behalf for what you said at the Summit: “all of a sudden it’s this huge controversy because I said marriage is between a man and a woman. [I thought to myself] are you serious? It doesn’t make any sense to me, a 22-year old college student. As I began to answer the question (in my head I was thinking) ‘God, why is this question being asked?’”
God, why is this question being asked? Obviously, Carrie, because he wanted you to answer it for him otherwise he would have just answered it for himself or sent me to answer it for him, or called the Orkin Man. That gay marriage stuff’s been all over the news. You didn’t even have to study for this one. However, since you are the beauty queen and I’m just a cross between a drag queen and a pig, and since beauty always trumps reason and even science, I’ll let you answer:
I knew that God had a plan for me that night. As I was beginning to say I think it’s great that Americans are able to choose one or the other I was respecting the individual who was asking me the question. My father always taught me to be tolerant of other people, to show respect, to be civil…I was honoring him. I said in no offense to anybody out there. But that’s how I was raised. And that’s how I think it should be. Between a man and a woman! (Prejean)
Gladiator, I’ll lobster roll with it like this:
- If God had a plan for you, show me the proof. I spoke to him too and he told me you’re full of bat shit.
- If it is great that Americans are able to choose one or the other, then why can’t humans choose one or the other for real and live the illusion of happily ever after like anybody? And, in a sexy way, aren’t you basically saying that you shouldn’t have been so civil and so tolerant when Perez Hilton asked you that question?
- Furthermore, if you truly made this statement in no offense to anybody out there, then why are so many homosexuals offended? Since you didn’t intend to offend anybody, are homosexuals nobodies since only the ‘anybodies’ weren’t offended? Who is anybody anyway? Or, were you just directing your answer to anybody who is just like you?
- Mental note: You have the right to your own opinion, but you don’t have the right to your own facts. Just because you are raised and can think (just like me and the raccoons next door) don’t confuse your belief in a particular thought or idea as being right, or correct, or moral. Just because you think, or believe, doesn’t mean what you believe or think is true or a Pop Tart.
Lord knows, you now, the Lord. Have his number on your iPhone I bet or maybe you’ve got a direct link to his spaceship. I want to say he doesn’t care if you were fucking Miss America or Miss Hialeah. I want to say the Lord is a concept to grasp and not a thing to hold or behold but people would call me the anti Christ or an atheist, which is odd, because that would then make them little blasphemous christs. I want to say the Lord is just your subconscious and incessant mind chatter going haywire beneath your damn wig. Or maybe the Lord is that invisible crown on your head, that invisible crown of thorns perhaps, the same one his son supposedly wore on his final day on your behalf.
I suspect God has better things to worry about than your B.S., or runner-upship, if he worries at all, but I’m just a stupid kid. I doubt he gives a hoot about what question you were asked or what swimsuit or gown you wore at the Miss America pageant. Seriously, real people die everyday because they run into traffic or have their genitals cut off and tossed in the trash. In Iraq, as reported in the recent study conducted by Human Rights Watch titled “They Want Us Exterminated“, homosexuals (and men who appear to be homosexuals) are being systematically kidnapped, tortured, mutilated, and murdered by shadowy militias with names like Ahl al Haq, the People of Truth, under the decree of religious fatwas.
Miss Prejean, you are Miss Universe. You are the surface of the moon. You are a spoon. The One. A Person of Truth. The whole world of antibodies is watching you and your conventional wisdom. We listen to your every word because we know how much language hurts. We know how fast a flock of sheep can turn into a pack of wolves. Grrrr. That junk you’ve been going through is peanuts compared to the bricks tossed through my bedroom window.
I say in no offense to everybody out there don’t overestimate the primacy of love between humans over the power of beauty queens. Miss Prejean, what I think is irrelevant, but God says all humans are humans, anybody and nobody, e pluribus unum my friend, from here to Kingdom Come.
“She’s got camel toes,” mom shouts at the television when you were on the television. In front of crazed members with crazed eyes, they cheered your stand for truth against tolerance, bearing witless before God. In that moment mom saw right through you, literally, and understood. “Miss Tight Pants has got fucking bills to pay too. She’s just like me, but prettier.”
Carrie Prejean’s Speech to the members of the Values Voter Summit: Part 1
Almost Dorothy Reads Dear Carrie Prejean: