If Only The Anus Was A Labradoodle.

Based on this week's Phil Robertson dust-up, I've pretty much decided that the last bastion of acceptable bigotry is ENTIRELY based on Anus Terror.

To those on the right the Anus is less the "brown star" and more the "Death Star", a dark, evil maw, which might suck otherwise God fearing men down into the hell that is cock lust and matching socks and pocket squares.

If only the anus were cuddlier - like a puppy (which we DON'T eat), not a cow (which we DO) - I believe even the most religious amongst us could get over their distain for *Gay.

(*And of course *Gay means Homosexual Men, because Lesbians just equal double the vagina and what could be better than that?)

If only the anus could just sing, or juggle... if it could change colors -- green for St. Patrick's Day... pink for Valentines Day... sparkly silver for the holidays -- it would then cease to have it's evil gravitational pull.

Why, oh why, can't the Anus warm a hot pocket or balance a checkbook or, maybe, act as a charging station or a wireless router?

If it smelled like cinnamon...

If it doubled as an MP3 player...

If it could get your son or daughter into Harvard...

But it doesn't do ANY of these things and I... frankly... blame GOD.

Because if we could make straight, Christian men more comfortable with the Anus... I think we could really move this country forward.

To this end, I'm promoting a program that allows gay men to have breasts implanted in their butt cracks.