I'm Gay, I'm Pregnant, and Justin Bieber Owes Me Child Support

Immaculate conception hallelujah

You cannot make this shit up. I arrived at Bieberchella a Gold Star Lesbian and left with a full-blown bun in my oven. I’ve never had intercourse with a man. And before you ask, no, I haven’t shared a hot tub with a man in months. Yet somehow, here I am: a lesbo housing a live embryo in her belly. Big Sean himself said Bieber is touched by God. That’s all the proof I need that Justin Bieber knocked me up.

Contrary to what you’d expect from me, a liberal 30-year-old single woman working a minimum wage job in Los Angeles, I’m super stoked to be pregnant. I obviously can’t abort it since this is the child of God. So since I’m keeping it, I need more money. If you give a single fuck about me, my baby, pro-life rhetoric, The Church, or humanity at large, please put your money where your faith is. Help me get in touch with Justin Bieber. He obviously needs to pay for our baby. And you KNOW this one’s gonna be high maintenance.

I know Hailey might be pissed about this, but maybe she’ll understand since she’s a follower of the Lord and knows He is in all of God‘s children, including the zygote cooking inside me.

Of course, I was asking for it since Coachella is zillennial Church. We cram together like sardines, hours before showtime, patiently waiting for Pastor Justin to mount his felt pulpit. When he finally takes the heavenly-lit stage and organs belt out All I Can Take, tears fall from congregation members’ eyeballs as we witness the miracle that is our King of Pop. We repeat what He says back to Him, sing along with Him. We throw our hands in the air and rhythmically bow down to Him. And by some miracle, during Baby, He impregnated me. Immaculate conception hallelujah.

Since I’m gay, science says the chances of the baby being gay are pretty high. Which means I’ll need cash for conversion therapy, cause I know the Church isn’t down with the queers. I want to be respectful of the Biebers’ faith if I’m gonna be spending their money. The earlier you start the kid, the more likely they’ll choose that good ol’ fashioned straight lifestyle. Though I will say, God impregnating a queer is as good an argument as any to tip the scale in our favor. We’ll see what Pope Leo thinks when he inevitably reads this.

Sorry Beliebers, he chose me. Call me a zealot, I’ll call you a heathen. Say I’m a starfucker and you better come correct: I’m actually a Godfucker. Before you hunt me down and try to hurt me and my fetus, just remember: my baby could be the next Justin Bieber.