Homophobia, homo-hatred

My friend Michael sent me this recently. I was very moved by it, and so I am reposting it here.

Love is not defined by color, creed, or gender.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the boy who never finished high school, because I got called a fag everyday.
I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the woman who died when the EMTs stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didnt have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am a warrior for my country serving proud, but can't be my true self because gays aren't allowed in the military.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
I am the person ashamed to tell my own friends I'm a lesbian, because they constantly make fun of them.
I am the boy tied to a fence, beaten to a bloody pulp and left to die because two straight men wanted to "teach me a lesson."
This is the boy, Matthew Shepard. On October 7, 1998 Aaron McKinney and Russell Henderson lead him to a remote area east of Laramie where they demonstrated unimaginable acts of hate. Matthew was tied to a split-rail fence where he was beaten and left to die in the cold of the night. Almost 18 hours later he was found by a cyclist who initially mistook him for a scarecrow. Matthew died on October 12 at 12:53 am at a hospital in Fort Collins, Colorado. KILLED BECAUSE HE WAS GAY!!!---IF YOU BELIEVE THAT HOMOPHOBIA IS WRONG... REPOST THIS AS "HOMOPHOBIA."

Carlton Simonds died at King-Harbor Hospital E.R. just like Edith Rodriguez

Considering the recent death of Edith Rodriguez at King-Harbor Hospital's ER (formerly King-Drew Medical Center, and before that, M.L. King Hospital) as a result of apathy on the part of the hospital staff and indifference to the point of bureaucratic bullying on the part of the two 911 operators (one of which was formally disciplined for the same offensive attitude to other 911 callers in the past) I simply had to say that, along with other reports of similar deaths due to hospital personnel indifference, that I, too, had a friend who died the same way in the same E.R.
His name was Carlton Simonds. Actually, the last name may have been spelled Simons or Simmonds. I don't remember, but Carl was a dear friend of mine from back in the Youth Group days. We were both members, in the mid-1970's, of Metropolitan Community Church's Friday evening group for Gay kids, Growing American Youth. Carl, Richard (RC) Chapman, and I were very close.
Carl died in early 1996 on the waiting room floor of the King E.R., literally vomiting up blood from a perforated ulcer in much the same way that Edith recently died, and none of the staff lifted a finger to help him.
Obviously, there's a reason this place is called "Killer King."

Ocean's 13 - WARNING! Possible SPOILER!!!

Okay, I just saw Ocean's 13 yesterday. Liked it a lot. As I enjoyed the first two films, I loved this one as well.
In fact, I have a name for the caper the guys pulled.

I'm calling it... Henry Blake's Desk.

Whaddya think?