Ask Francine – Death, Exorcisms, Riots — and My Shining Beauty

I’m glad you can’t see me right now. The skin around my eyes is red and swollen, my nail polish is chipped, and I’m retaining so much water that I had to sneak into my maid’s room this morning and steal a pair of her Walmart stretch pants that were made in China. The Chinese are not Christians, so I’ve strictly forbidden the staff to bring any of their heathen products into my home, but I do own a sizable amount of Walmart stock, so I shall make an exception for the young heifer.
I am sure your unplucked eyebrows are in a furrow, wondering about my emotional and physical distress. I thank you for your concern and shall present six of my dilemmas in an easy-to-read list, eighth-grade-level prose so you can easily understand:
1. In the midst of the heat wave, my pool is a torrid 94 degrees. It’s like swimming in used bath water.
2. One of my freezer units went out and melted the ice blocks in my ice sculpture studio and gallery.
3. The Stonewall Riots are celebrating their 40th anniversary. Won’t those old drag queens ever shut up and die?
4. Farrah Fawcett never returned my favorite casserole dish. It’s gone forever.
5. I’ll miss the clack-clack sound of Ed McMahon’s ill-fitting dentures.
6. Michael Jackson died without ever letting me pet his chimpanzee, Bubbles.
Quite frankly, I’m scared of old people dying. They’re the only ones who have kept our nation morally straight and on the narrow road to salvation. I read an April New York Times/CBS News poll that found that 57 percent of people under 40 said they supported same-sex marriage, compared with 31 percent of respondents over 40.
This means that if you’re under 40, you’re going to hell.
On my driver’s license, I am only 36 (I have connections), so as a member of the younger generation, I will lead a moral crusade against LGBT heathens achieving any sort of lifestyle like mine.
In case you all have forgotten, the Bible strictly states that you are worth even less than the nasty newsprint this paper is printed on. In I Corinthians 6:9-10, it says: The unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God. So do not be deceived; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor homosexuals, nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers shall inherit the realm of God.
God wrote the Bible, and according to Scripture, you have no chance of going to Heaven. Give up, folks. I am tired of you all claiming you love each other and want to settle down into monogamous families. The fact is that I can’t get over the horror of two identical genitalia getting close … even touching. It’s icky. And then my body revolts, retains water, and I get cranky. Water-weight gain is caused by gay and lesbian sex.
And speaking of Stonewall, don’t tell me that you’ve been second-class citizens for 40 years. The truth is, you’ve been scourges of humanity for centuries. If we brought back the custom of burning gays at the stake, I could convert more of your souls. I have a call in to the re-elected president of Iran for some advice on how to stage a public execution. It will come in handy, in the cases where gay exorcisms don’t work.
I recently took Apostle Patricia McKinney of Connecticut’s Manifested Glory Ministries church to dinner. She’s one of the leaders of the ministry behind the gay exorcism video with the 16-year-old boy that has been so popular on YouTube lately. I asked her how she came up with the brilliant concept of exorcising the gay demons. She smiled a big smile and slapped me on the back. “My tower of power is almighty Jesus! I scared the devil right out, I did.”
Praise Jesus.
We Christians know we’re the only ones going to the Kingdom of Heaven. I shall carry the Torch of Christ high, so that others may see my Light. My light is brighter than yours, but that doesn’t mean I’m any better — just more beautiful.
And much, much more Christian.
Here’s a call to the leaders of Missouri and Kansas: Put Jesus on our license plates, as Florida has just done! I would have preferred a live Jesus instead of a dead Jesus, though, with a bit of a suntan.
I was forced by the editors of this filthy rag to tie the deaths of Farrah and Michael to some sort of gay theme. So here’s the gay theme, you hideous editor: Las Vegas’ gay duo: Siegfried and Roy. Why anyone would want to watch homosexuals perform magic is beyond me, but I’m normal. ’Nuff said.
My new best friend, Apostle Patricia McKinney, who made headlines by exorcising the devil out of a gay boy. Both the gays and the devil are crabby with her.
This is my Jeff Koons sculpture, Michael Jackson (and Bubbles), 1988. I’ve kept it in the attic for the last few years, but am bringing it out as a tribute to Michael and his artistry. Rest well, PYT.
Francine offers her slightly skewed viewpoint on issues in the Kansas City metropolitan area’s LGBT community in each issue of Camp. And since you’re asking, yes, she’s a fictional character. Well, you asked.

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