It’s time for me to come out of the metaphorical closet, friends. I’m afraid this secret has been weighing on me far too heavily, for far too long.

The truth is, I’ve been in bed with Harper for the past year. Literally and figuratively. It all started with this (I’m the one on the far right. And yes, I’ll be using that pun as a jumping off point):       

           

Stephen and I have so many things in common, it’s hard to know where to begin. We’re both 50-something-year-old white men, for one.

Aside from that, we both think women, the poor, and First Nations people should buck up and stop playing the victim card! I mean, come on. People have agency! We’re empowered. I saw a man just sleeping on the sidewalk the other day, and there was money in his hat! His hat. If inequality means free money and hats, count us in.

Anyway, if people want affordable housing, they can go to prison, Steve and I say (while staring longingly into each other’s eyes). Seriously, those criminals are mooches. The rest of us have to pay for our food.

Steve and I have spent hours talking about the fact that evolution is made up (just like colonialism, amiright?) and about how water is a luxery, not a right. The rest of our time together is spent planning for the apocalypse and making “science” jokes (Did you hear the one about the dinosaur? LOL).

He is literally the most exciting man I’ve ever been with — I never know whether he’s going to revoke my right to vote or put me in a chastity belt (don’t kink-shame us!).

So, there you have it. My hidden agenda is to bury my face in Steve’s silver chest hair while we sing Beatles songs, switching out all the lady-names with his: “Dear Stephen,” “Sexy Stevie,” etc.

Anyway, now that I’m out and proud about my secret life, I guess it’s only fair to let you all know that thanks to the buckets of money the religious right and the Conservative government have been funneling to me via Feminist Current (they think this blog is super-cute!), I can quit feminism for good. Ugh. That was a rough go, folks. Steve says he’ll pay off my student loan debt for me, too! Just as soon as I get back in the kitchen, that is (Steve will only eat food that looks like his face — Soooo sick of potatoes!).

Thanks for the fun, suckers!