I wish that the American Family Association would boycott me. From what I’ve read about its past successes as an economic force to be reckoned with, there’s nothing quite like having these supposedly “pro family” busy bodies refuse to buy your products or services.Once upon a happiest place on earth, the American Family Association boycotted all things Disney. Now, I’ve never purchased a Disney product, although I do have a Mickey Mouse spoon and fork set from my childhood. Nor have I been to any of the various Disney lands, worlds, centers or other temporal locations where giant talking mice, dogs, and other traditionally non-verbal animals walk upright and generally behave in ways that god-fearing Christian rodents and canines absolutely should not. But it wasn’t the LSD-flashback surreality of Disney that bothered the good people of the American Family Association. No, no, no. All of that is just fine.

It was the fact that once a year the park opens its gates for something called “Gay Days,” that really stuck in their long underwear. According to the same people who claim that the Holocaust was caused by homosexuals and that Proctor & Gamble is run by fag-loving Satanists, Disney’s “Gay Days” is raunchier than a visit to Fire Island, a SF bath house, New Orleans’ Southern Decadence, and a motor oil lubed fisting shoot on a Colt studio set all rolled into one. Promo like that only makes me want to visit a Disney theme park right away in order to compare notes.

Apparently a lot of other people felt the same way because much in the same way that their outraged attention-getting bids to get people to stop watching “Cheers,” “The Johnny Carson Show,” “Saturday Night Live,” “Roseanne,” “Nightline,” “NYPD Blue,” and “Ellen,” succeeded, so did their boycott of Disney. In fact, so amazing was the boycott that, along with increasing the public’s awareness of Disney by continually mentioning the company’s name, it may well have increased the company’s financial profits by staying away in droves.

Really says something to me about how much more livable the world is when these folks stay home and do whatever it is that they do in their copious spare time.

If the American Family Association would boycott my work, which is certainly less “family friendly” than any of the above, there’s no telling how much fame and fortune might be mine. After all, my budget doesn’t currently allow me to hire a national or even regional PR machine, but one word from these protectors of all that is “decent” could rocket me to success beyond measure. Surely my writing and my events promote the “homosexual agenda” more successfully than K-Mart’s bankruptcy, which the AFA also took credit for back in 2002. While K-Mart has never been one of my favorite places to shop, mostly due to traumatic memories related to my days of being dragged there by my mother when I was very much a virgin, I think there were bigger forces at work than the American Family Association to push K-Mart toward reorganization. Nonetheless, given my public support for such social “ills” as premarital sex, legal abortion, gambling, the separation of church and state, pornography, television, unfiltered Internet access in libraries, and the absence of government supported and public school sponsored religious worship, I think I am more than qualified to be the target of their next boycott.

Consider the facts: I’m an atheist sex writer from an interfaith family who has run for office as many times as she’s been married. Just this week I watched more pornographic videos than that average man watches in a lifetime. I’ve publicly protested the Iraq war with nudity. I am responsible for untold numbers of people having sex outside of wedlock, sometimes with members of their own sex, sometimes with members of the opposite sex, sometimes with people of indeterminate sex. In fact, some of my best friends are chicks with dicks and guys with pussies. I have and continue to promote and encourage adults to explore BDSM, responsible non-monogamy, and other non-traditional forms of love, sex, and intimacy. And, perhaps most damning of all, I own a Ford. Yes, the Darkladymobile is a white Ford Taurus with subversive, even pro-porn bumper stickers plastered across its broad white butt end. Which reminds me, I’ve taken it up the ass a few times and liked it.

Surely that qualifies me as a target for righteous indignation and moral outrage. Or at least a ticket to Disneyland.