… DATES! I mean DATES!

(An official, state sponsored license plate. Not only good for target practice, $26 of the purchase price goes to restoring Confederate Flags, the rest to “fighting heritage violations.” I shit you not.)

I’m sure all the black people you imprison love making these for you.

Before the first time they broke this story, I didn’t know they made lesbians in Mississippi. Turns out there is at least two, because this one chick was told she couldn’t bring her girlfriend to prom. To catch you up: Constance sued the bejesus out of Itawamba Agricultural High School because Mississippi does not exist in the 13th century. Clenched asses against the wall, the school board canceled the prom altogether, because if you’re not knocking your girlfriend up with more redneck litters, you’re not getting any on their tab. By the time the judge was like, “That was the farthest thing from OK since The Phantom Menace,” (he’s another of those Jar Jar haters, where do they all come from I wonder?) the parents of the other students were throwing another prom. So the court didn’t order the school to reinstate the official prom, because Constance and her better half were invited to this private one. With justice… not even kind of served, but whatever, everybody lived happily ever after – -

To avoid Constance McMillen bringing a female date to her prom, the teen was sent to a “fake prom” while the rest of her class partied at a secret location at an event organized by parents… Two students with learning difficulties were among the seven people at the country club event, McMillen recalls. (Advocate)

This is the plot of an ’80s comedy, right? Next comes the part where the lesbians take the retards from the classroom under the stairs to the real prom and sabotage it in hillarious, non-lethal ways, right? Where the caricatures of the worst people in the world get what’s coming to them and realize they invented a new circle of hell just by being born, and learn to be better people, or at least pick on somebody weaker that can’t fight back?

No, see the difference between this and Animal House, if I may put this in perspective, is that this is the prom of an agricultural high school in Mississippi, which means these are the kids that didn’t learn to read words in time for ninth grade, so they might as well learn how to be farmers and homemakers that don’t burn the house down making toast. These aren’t super-elite legacy jerks in letter cardigans and blond pompadours, though they are probably following in their parents’ footsteps. These are exactly the kind of people that think a pair of overalls with no shirt is restaurant fashion, that Amelia Badelia is a challenging read, that the Earth is 6,000 years old, that New York is exotic because they have all them Jews. These are the people that have the balls to go to elaborate lengths to imply they consider their lesbian population of 2 part of the mentally handicapped set, while learning how to make tires because they won’t be able to cut it as a manager of McDonald’s.

The thing of it now is that the offender is no longer some faceless bureaucrat in what the state laughably calls a school system*, it’s the parents. Real adult Mississippians that wouldn’t settle for snobbish disapproval, they had to coordinate a shaming ceremony to punish other peoples’ children for holding hands with the wrong person. Let’s get this straight, Mississippi, so there’s no confusion: we don’t need you. We don’t need your dead fetus shaming dolls, your Beauvoirs, your “War of Northern Aggression.”  And we definitely don’t need your 3 Doors Down. Seriously, take them back. You used to be the state of Elvis, Faulkner, Tennessee Williams (he wouldn’t even admit it!), and Jim Henson. Now, your living natives are Oprah, Grisham, Faith Hill, and people who don’t let lesbians do “real people things.” You’re Louisiana’s neighbor; happen to notice anything going on over there a few years ago? Yeah, thanks for the help. You suck so bad, your Wikipedia page has a section titled “litter,” in a country that historically could give two shits if you left a fully decorated and wired Christmas Tree in the middle of the highway. No seriously, look:

In 2008, The American State Litter Scorecard, presented at the American Society for Public Administration national conference, ranked Mississippi “worst” of the 50 United States for removing litter from statewide public roadways and properties.^[12]

What level of dedication does it take to annoy the crap out of slobs with your slobbiness? Seriously, get your shit together Mississippi. Otherwise, we’re going to start calling people “the fastest draw this side of the Arkansas River,” which doesn’t have the same ring to it, but doesn’t have any douchey connotations. We’ll get the living members of Mountain** to rewrite their only good song and call it “Wyoming Queen.” Think it’ll be hard? They’re from Long Island. Annoying kids without hobbies will be adding a few more letters to their shrill and asinine recitation of the spelling of your name: M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I-S-U-X. I’ll see to that. I already derive a heckuva lot of satisfaction in corrupting others’ children, and since the price of cigarettes just went up, I’ve been looking for alternatives.

Who knows, maybe they didn’t invite these girls to the prom because they were insulted they weren’t invited to the country.

*”In 2008, Mississippi was ranked last among the fifty states in academic achievement by the American Legislative Exchange Council‘s Report Card on Education, with the lowest average ACT scores and sixth lowest spending per pupil in the nation.” Not to mention the highest population of post-pubescent guys that are too dumb realize the potential of two girls that get it on regularly, at the same party as their girlfriends.

** Dude, that guy’s wife shot him in the neck!

(Why risk your child’s innocence on the dubious information in the world’s most popular reference volume when the only reference book he needs is already sitting on the shelf next to the wedding photo?)

The minutia and special interests involved in the sex-ed in public schools debate are myriad and complicated, especially because some people’s heads have been so crushed by their own colons they can’t see past their own polyps. But you’d think this Foucalt’s Pendulum of a debate would have found a position somewhere closer to middle ground than the evidence over the last couple of days seems to want to indicate. We seem stagnated at the opposite ends of  “don’t tell the nine-year-old he grew out of his mom’s carrot patch” and “don’t fuck the nine year old to show him what anal sex is like.” A couple of U.S. towns aren’t even ready to decide if condoms should be referred to as “contraceptives” or “receptacles for angels’ tears,” as evidenced by the following stories.

First we go to Texas (Jesus Taintlicking Christ, Texas of all places), where a woman named Shirley Price, who overcame physical disabilities now sits on the Hitchcock school board with a doctorate, was asked to give a motivational speech at a school about over coming odds or some ghey shit like that. Instead, she asked the principal to leave the room, and the kids got treated to this:

What was supposed to be a motivation speech to a collection of sixth- through eighth-grade girls at Crosby Middle School instead turned into an explicit sex talk, including descriptions on how to perform oral and anal sex, [and several curse words] Hitchcock school officials said.

First of all, what do you mean by curse words? I understand the… Galveston County Daily News is a publication of some merit, and wouldn’t want to taint its pages with naughty words, but you live in a state in which “intercourse” is a curse word, so I’m going to need a little clarification. Also, I think if you really thought about it, Ms. Price’s speech came from a very honest and helpful place. If college taught me anything, it’s that crippled chicks totally do anal, at first because they can’t get away, but eventually they begin to love human connection that isn’t from a 90 year old doctor’s rubber glove and they get attached to it. Especially when they realize that certain concessions are the only thing between anyone seeing the point in touching them and the oblivion of numb loneliness, a factor which becomes more important depending on how annoying being home schooled and taking your mom to “living room prom” has made her personality. So the service Shirley Price was providing to the children was letting them know that overcoming adversity and becoming a functioning member of society against all odds can often be expedited with a little Anal-Eaze. And there is definitely a sliding scale in these situations; the worse off they are the farther they’ll go. When I was in high school, Terry Schiavo came to do a motivational speech. She didn’t say much, but you could tell she wanted to teach us about donkey punching.

Students apparently were told to keep the contents of the speech secret, [Hitchcock Superintendent Mike] Bergman said.

Are you sure we’re not confusing the Price case with the People vs. Clown-Priest Handing Out Candy and Cigarettes From The Back of a Panel Van With Big Bird Painted On the Side? Nobody with half a brain thinks that abstinence-only sex-ed is the perfect way to go, but Price’s approach was certainly extreme, especially considering it wasn’t even supposed to be sex-ed. Probably, she is of the mind-set (the same I employ in my own life) that every day of her life is sex-ed day, and whoever wants to gather ’round the mound is welcome to benefit from her vast knowledge of things like how to properly perform a Jelly Donut. But Price’s real mistake here was not realizing that if you tell a room-full of kids not to tell their parents about something, at least one of them is going to be smart enough to do exactly that. It was a hard lesson, but I learned it early. Hey, bubba.

“There was no motivational speech at all,” Bergman said.

Says you. I can think of a few things I’m motivated to do right now. But the extreme nature of that case can only be matched by the sphincter stretching dick-lickery coming out of Southern California, who banned The Merriam-Webster Dictionary in its public schools for including the definition of “oral sex.”

Merriam Webster’s 10th edition, which has been used for the past few years in fourth and fifth grade classrooms (for children aged nine to 10) in Menifee Union school district, has been pulled from shelves over fears that the “sexually graphic” entry is “just not age appropriate”, according to the area’s local paper.

Damn! What was the definition of oral sex, “Noun: Kissing and licking a cock, cunt, or ass-hole for the purposes of giving pleasure, with the hope of receiving monetary compensation and a face full of white leak”? Or was it the example sentence, “Susie gave a different boy oral sex on the school bus every day, because collecting colored bracelets is so rad, and the best way to be popular”?

The dictionary’s online definition of the term is “oral stimulation of the genitals”.

Burn it! I can’t tell what is more offensive and less age appropriate, “genitals” or “stimulation.” Come spelling bee time, the class clown is going home with the gold star for that 4-syllable gem. Clearly the parents of these kids don’t remember what it was like to have the classmate in the school yard talking about the shit he found under his older brother’s bed, and not even having a rudimentary understanding of what was being said. It doesn’t make for a good time, I’ll tell you what. Apparently, “age appropriate” to them means when he’s fumbling around under his prom date’s dress to find the bra strap and ends up kneeing her in the face in an incredibly embarrassing and totally avoidable tugging accident.

“It’s hard to sit and read the dictionary, but we’ll be looking to find other things of a graphic nature,” district spokeswoman Betti Cadmus told the paper.

Good. While your wrinkly, bespectacled ass is pouring over a book that’s almost harder to get through than A Tale of Two Cities looking for dirty words like “penis”, the rest of us will be having oral sex. Isn’t there some Bingo you could be losing right now? Do your grand-kids have enough home-made cookies? Whatever, it will keep your swirling vagina sand out of other people’s eyes for a few days so I say go for it. The thing is already banned, what more damage can you do? Just do me a favor and try to keep something in mind as you turn each delicate page of that reference book: when you were a kid, what motivated you to really learn how you use the dictionary? My guess is “dick.”