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Soapbox Alert
The Cure For Homosexuality
Join Our Treatment Program!

Some years ago, the demon-possessed group of octogenarians known as the Supreme Court discovered some new "Constitutional right" for married couples to purchase and use birth control. Not only was this a great distress to the chief Mary-worshipper in Rome, but whereas in the ‘60’s, husbands and wives copulated rarely, knowing that it could result in yet one more mouth to feed, today, married couples have sex at will, sometimes two, three or even four times a year! In Loving v. Virginia, they had the effrontery to suggest that interracial couples had the same legal rights as normal couples. Now, the End of Days is apparently near as "The Supremes" have decided via judicial fiat in Lawrence v. Texas that what two consenting adults do with their unmentionables in the privacy of their own bedrooms is "nobody's business, thank you very much"!

Despite the downward slide of this great country into the abyss of Satan's Colon, I, Taffy Dooright, along with several of my dear friends and sisters in Christ (including Anita Biday and Ivana Dooshe), have started a new treatment program for unhappy homos who wish to kick the demon of same-gender appreciation off their backs! Glory!

Based on the scholarly works of NARTH, our new program entitled "Weaning Homos Off Repugnant Execrable Sex" (aka, "W.H.O.R.E.S.") uses a combination of prayer and aversion therapy to cure the poor souls who come to us for assistance (very often after family and friends convince them of the absolute bliss and happiness easily attained through heterosexual Marriage©!).

Initial sessions start with a laying on of hands to the homo's forehead with cries of "Demon Be Gone!" For added effect, Sister Ivana punctuates these prayers with Godly riffs on the Hammond B3 organ which we keep in the office for improptu hymn singing. This rarely works as the gay devils are stubborn little beasts who don't appreciate being cast into a herd of swine (just as the swine rarely appreciate their newfound propensity for lisping). However, it startles them sufficiently to where a gay man is unable to apprehend an aesthetic difference between Tom Daschle and Tom Cruise.

Then comes the aversion therapy: in homage to "A Clockwork Orange", we strap the fairy's hands down and pry his lids open whilst forcing him to watch endless montages of a scantily clad Brad Pitt (the oiled and ripped version from "Fight Club", not the hirsute rendition from "Legends of the Fall"), Colin Farrell and Jared Leto and simultaneously bombarding him with sounds and odors that the gay devils find offensive. We've found that a repeated playing of Slim Whitman's "Indian Love Call" yodel-song is quite effective (it is apparently lethal to unsaved aliens according to "Mars Attacks") as is the repugnant odor of White Castle Sliders which we also force them to ingest (thought it often requires massive doses of Kaopectate soon thereafter). This often not only completely kills the demon but the desire for unpronounceable effete French foods as well. Praise!

Our success rates are very similar to NARTH's, in fact, and are thus nothing short of spectacular! We have Brother Jebediah follow our patients in an unmarked car for up to three weeks following treatment, and 33% don't step foot inside a den of iniquity (gay bar), enter a gym or purchase a Barbara Streisand album! Glory! Another 33%, while still exhibiting an inappropriate fondness for male grooming products and dance remixes, gain a sufficient degree of heterosexuality to where they can comfortably attend a rodeo. The other 33% are, alas, lost beyond hope, as is my stylist, Bernard who, doomed though he may be, can still throw together a fabulous Chanel ensemble!

Glory!
 
Imp,

Have you been watching reruns of Reverend Jerry again?

Quick everyone we'll have to find a cure for her.

Cat
 
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