Two seconds before I read that the New York Senate opened the door to same-sex weddings, my eyeballs inhaled these pictures of Jehovah’s sessiest witness moisturizing the ground in Montreal with his sexiness. It was the perfect pairing. You know, like a blow job and toothpaste.
Yes, I am perfectly aware that Prince once made the doves cry by saying that gay marriage is wrong (which he later took back). But even if those words trickled out of his pretty elfin mouth, I don’t believe he means it. WORDS MEAN NOTHING, fashion speaks volumes.
Would an amethyst nymph with Gladys Knight hair dress like an old Palm Springs queen at an Ishtar-themed wedding if he was against gay marriage? Absolutely not. Prince can’t fool me. Those platform flip-flops tell me that he wants to be closer to the arch in a rainbow. That purple turtleneck tells me that he doesn’t leave his kingdom without consulting the spirit of Maude first. That kaftan tells me that he does a mean Mrs. Roper impression when he’s in front of his gilded bathroom mirror. Don’t worry, girl, your secret is safe with me!