So, this happened last weekend and I’m still catching flak from it, mainly from my wife, who currently refers to me exclusively as “that guy.”

My sister-in-law (let’s call her Sam) recently married her longtime girlfriend (Jess), and the reception was a beautiful, joy-filled, rainbow-saturated affair. Lots of heartfelt speeches, choreographed dancing, and vegan cupcakes. Very classy.

At one point during the night, the DJ announced they were taking requests. Fueled by exactly three vodka cranberries and the unstoppable confidence of a straight man in a rented tux, I thought, “You know what this party needs? Comedy.”

Enter: Show Me Your Genitals by Jon Lajoie. A satirical masterpiece from 2009. Iconic. Groundbreaking. Arguably Shakespearean.

I requested it. DJ raised an eyebrow, but played it.

The beat dropped. Some people laughed. Others looked like I just farted during a eulogy. My wife’s face instantly did that thing where her lips disappear and her soul leaves her body.

Her: “What. The hell. Is this?”

Me: “It’s satire! It’s funny! It’s ironic!”

Her: “You played Show Me Your Genitals…at a lesbian wedding.”

Cue Sam walking up, eyebrows higher than my GPA ever was, and asking, “Dude…why?”

I panicked and said, “I thought you’d find it empowering?”

She did not.

Jess actually did laugh, thankfully, and said she hadn’t heard it since college—but Sam was clearly annoyed and my wife now claims I embarrassed her “in front of her whole family, the gay community, and God.”

So Reddit…AITA?