What the cat dragged in

Registries and marriage . . .
. . . go together like a horse and whip

I wish, I wish that the gay marriage debate would just go away. Why can’t poofs and dykes be more like left-handers; viz, accept that they’re/we’re in a (overwhelming) minority, and just get on with life. Providing that the inevitable inconveniences/slights upon the minority aren’t malicious or deliberate, loudly bleating about them is undignified and unproductive. In short, un-gay. So there.

However weary it may be for me to do so, I feel that I should briefly elaborate on the latest gay marriage developments. PM Howard king-hits the ACT’s civil unions thing. Whoopty-do.

If you’re actually a gay Canberran personally put out by this latest twist, you have two choices. You can move to Tasmania, where, as Rodney Croome explains, same-sex (and heterosexual) couples have been able to sign a relationship register since 2004, so granting the relationship the same protection as marriage or de facto status (same URL). Or you can move five k’s to Queanbeyan, and start lobbying for NSW to bring in the same deal as Tasmania.

But doing that takes too much effort, for not enough style/immediate-gratification, doesn’t it? (Imagine signing some tacky, 80GSM sheet of paper, in some hij-jous government office in Queanbeyan, darling! It’s more than enough to put a girl off monogamy-for-life, for life).

Welcome to world of marriage, poofs. On paper, it’s just a five km trip to Ordinary-ville, but it’s a journey that 99% of you, including me, are congenitally unable or unwilling to make.