Burning Daylight


Not to brag, but I am so brave.

Every time I leave the house, I invariably end up having to use a public restroom (thanks giant baby that did half gainers off my bladder for months). I go in by myself.  I have never bothered to look under the stall doors to make sure that nobody has a penis. With the chutzpah of a half dozen robust titmice, I have blithely waltzed into a restroom, done my business, washed my hands (because, c’mon, don’t be gross), and left.

This is an incredible act of bravery.

No, no. Don’t argue with me. It’s apparently so brave that Texas Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick doesn’t think I should have to do it anymore, so he’s going to make sure that transgender folk don’t come in the wrong restroom and do absolutely nothing to me.

I mean, never-you-mind that women don’t get raped by transgender people in bathrooms. Forget that women get sexually assaulted by eventual presidential candidates, football players, their dates, and their significant others more than they’ve ever been assaulted by someone who is transgender.

Forget all that. Forget that Dan Patrick’s stupidity will likely cost Texas business by making a law for a problem that does not and has never existed.

And forget that there are bigger fish to fry. Our CPS system is literally losing children and/or letting them die. Our schools are woefully underfunded and we’re under the gun to figure out how to fund them equitably. Forget that you still have a budget to balance by the end of the session.

No, you go ahead and burn daylight, you odious, weak-chinned wanna-be dilettante with a single-minded and laser-accurate aim at being the worst human in the state of Texas. Go ahead.

I’ll be waiting for you at the ballot box.


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