It’s obvious to everyone that Maine is a gay brothel. 

All this stuff makes me physically ill. 

I’d heard that the Governor’s Chief of Staff is “married” to someone in leadership in the House of Representatives.  I just wasted five minutes doing some searching.  It appears that Speaker Fecteau is “married” to someone named Dylan.  Maybe Dylan is the Governor’s Press Secretary, not Chief of Staff.  I’m not going to waste anymore time thinking about the lies they tell themselves and the rest of us.

A prominent Maine businessman met with me yesterday to tell me to move on.  He told me, “The gays won the war, Mike.”  We’re all gay now, whether we like it or not.  And don’t you dare think for a minute that you have any right whatsoever to interfere with the noble sexual and gender development of anyone you love.  Every individual has the right, and the responsibility, to choose well how to serve in the gay brothel.

And there’s only one rule for providing good service.  Don’t ask, don’t tell. 

Homosexuals have the exclusive right to define everything, especially the meaning of words.  There is no reality outside of what they preach.  All contradictions and criticism are forbidden.

Maine became this way by willfully choosing to believe lies.  And now we live in a darkening dystopia.  We hate our children so much that we fund clinics equipped to emasculate them supported by staff trained to obfuscate reality.

We’ve descended to such a low level of hell on earth that all we can do is look up.  I don’t think we can descend any further down wearing our skin suits.  Our souls will have to depart this world to burn in the eternal sexually oriented hell we’ve chosen.  We have created a death culture.

God weeps.

And so do I.

Amen.