Earlier today, Missouri DE Michael Sam became the first openly gay player selected in NFL Draft history when he was picked 249th overall by the St. Louis Rams. Sam, the reigning SEC Defensive Player Of The Year, celebrated the occasion in front of ESPN cameras with a kiss from his boyfriend. Former Sirius/XM radio host / avowed opponent of what he calls “the homosexual lifestyle”, Dino Costa, reacted thusly :
Consider the following then, an open letter to Dino’s sole podcast sponsor, Dust Cover Lemonade :
To Whom It May Concern :
I will never purchase or sample your product for as long as I live. In fact, I would sooner
drink from the toilet gargle Satan’s semen chug a Coors Light before I come within 50 yards of your dubious offerings. Admittedly, this won’t be a hard promise to keep seeing as I rarely frequent Wyoming truck stops, but in the very unlikely event your beverages ever achieve distribution beyond Dino’s rec room / faux studios, your association with this purveyor of hate fuckery will go down in history as one of the dumbest business decisions of the modern era, perhaps only surpassed by Costa’s other enablers / financial supporters, who for their own sakes, hopefully possess more money than brains.
That Costa has flipped out over the most mild display of same-sex affection is not a new thing, mind you. On his former radio program and via numerous protected/deleted Twitter accounts, he’s raged against the scourge of guys fucking each other up the ass, neglecting to consider, of course, that anal sex is also enjoyed by persons of opposite genders, and y’know, WHO FUCKING ASKED HIM?
Since we’ve now entered the realm of self-style social crusaders sharing their respective turn-ons and turn-offs, here’s mine : I find nothing in the world as creepy or repulsive as the thought of Dino Costa inserting his baloney pony into any orifice, much as it’s almost impossible to believe there’d be a consenting partner of any gender. I am doing everything in my power right this moment not to projectile vomit all over this keyboard. And while Costa considers a smooch between two dudes, “rubbing my face in it”, is that a rather precious stance from a guy who (perhaps under the influence of prescription medication) used his business twitter account to regale his phony followers with a blow-by-blow description of his beating off to a Cameron Diaz movie on Starz? I mean. what person of any orientation or age deserved to have that series of correspondence rubbed in their face?
In short, no person, let alone someone thirsty for lemonade, should tolerate this type of bigotry and hypocrisy. It is my fervent hope that your Mickey Mouse operation finds a way to disassociate itself from Costa, and perhaps after doing so you can manage to find a new name for your beverages. Because “Dust Cover Lemonade” sounds almost as stupid as throwing a shitfit over guys kissing.