I can’t co-sign 99% of the hate dingles of dumb that pass through Rupert Everett’s chapped lips, but I appreciate his dedication to being a crusty, bitter old queen who sometimes pulls the stick lodged deep up in his ass to violently wave it at anything and everything.
Rupert has pissed hate on Gwyneth Paltrow (that’s 0.5% I co-signed), Jennifer Aniston’s career (that’s the other 0.5%), British soldiers and now he’s pissing hate on gay parents. Rupert told The Sunday Times (via Telegraph) that even though his mom has met his boyfriend and knows that he’s strictly dickly, she still wants him to marry a woman and have some kids. Rupert’s mom doesn’t think that as a gay dude he should have kids, because children need a father and a dad in their lives. Rupert knows that it’s been a while since he’s gotten some free attention for spewing out crazy shit, so he told The Sunday Times that he agrees with his mom:
“She thinks children need a father and a mother and I agree with her. I can’t think of anything worse than being brought up by two gay dads. I’m not speaking on behalf of the gay community. In fact, I don’t feel like I’m part of any ‘community’. The only community I belong to is humanity and we’ve got too many children on the planet, so it’s good not to have more.”
Um. I can think of a million things that are a million times worse than being raised by two gay dads. What Rupert did to his face is one of those things and being raised by THIS:
is another thing that is worse than being raised by two gay dads.
What is Rupert even saying with that “too many children on the planet” shit? Is he only talking about gay dudes who use their baby-making chowder to make a new baby? Because you know, some gay parents do this thing called “adoption,” which is a fancy word for saying that they take care of children who are already on this planet that has too many children on it.
I can not and will not co-sign this shit out of Rupert’s mouth, because I was raised by mom and my abuelita, and if my dad helped raise me, I’d be more fucked up than I already am. My dad was a compulsive gambler, so he probably would’ve lost me in a poker game with the Chinese mafia. Instead of typing words of bitchy bitterness on the Internet all day, I’d be digging ditches, working the 8-ball assembly line and dodging slaps from some Chinese gang leader’s mistress, because I squeezed her Pomeranian’s toes too hard while giving it a paw massage. Okay, the last part is kind of glamorous, but the rest of it isn’t!
What I’m saying is that Rupert is mad that the children run away from his slab of Botoxed veal face and he’s taking it out on gay parents. Well, at least his Mr. Burns heart goes with his Mr. Burns face.