COOKIE ABORTIONS

It’s that time of year again.


It's Christmas, although that is the cause of my troubles. Let me just start by telling you about this party I went to last year over at my friends Carl's house. Well it's not a house, its really a warehouse full of art and weird bits of junk. Carl planned one of those "cookie exchange" parties. Please keep in mind that we're a group are 30-Year-old gay men and not 65-year-old Methodist women.


If you've ever had the pleasure to be invited to one of these death marches with red and green sweaters you know that you spend 3 hours making 3 dozen cookies just to let your friends mock your baking abilities. When the exchange begins you are required to line up and pick up one of each of the most God awful waste of sugar and food coloring you've ever seen. You have to pick one of each or the person behind you will be offended because he spent 3 hours making candy cane shaped abortions.


I quickly got kicked out of line after starting to eat the only cookie I liked, which just happened to be the one I brought, sad as they were. Please keep in mind I had a downloaded recipe that had the first step "Locate your kitchen." The act of eating my own treats upset some of the sweater-wearing homosexuals. It did not end well, my fist step into Christmas season and I had a small group of partygoers correcting my "cookie sharing ability." Damn. It is true; I do not play well with others

THE DATG

I’m not feeling the Christmas spirit, not even a little bit. The thought of having to pull out the lights and garland makes me queasy. In my office they turned on the canned holiday music at 5AM on DATG –or- the Day After Thanksgiving as we call it here at work. Datg? Seriously? That will just get you warm and fuzzy. How can you not care about something so damn happy? Maybe that will change when I get my bonus. Nothing says Merry Christmas like a direct deposit.

Thanks-for-not-giving

I survived Thanksgiving. That is an accomplishment in it’s own right. The fact that I went the whole week and not once had to see or interact with a single member of my family is truly a blessing. Its not that I hate my kin folk. It’s just a painful experience every time. Suddenly I’m completely invisible. It’s the whole “avoid talking to or about the queer thing.”
The last time I went to a family gathering a sister went out of her way to introduce me to other guests in fear I would say, “Hi there, I fuck man ass.” She then introduced my partner as my “friend” I have a lot of friends none of which do I rim.
When people go out of their way to make sure you know that speaking about who you are will not be tolerated that’s when I’m ready to decline the next invite. That or show up with a black trannie on my arm.

Here's a pic of us hanging out at Thanksgiving

Dalton , Neil and Ernie

There really is something about the last day of work before Thanksgiving. Dalton flies in from NY tomorrow. I’m down playing this tremendously from Fuzzy the boyfriend. Dalton is my ex but, he really is an amazing friend. I don’t really know if constantly talking about how fucking cool your ex is to your current boyfriend is that healthy. I try not to giggle when I think of cool things Dalton and I did that Fuzz I have not as of yet.

So, I see Dalton tomorrow, wow. Giggle. It would take way to long to decipher why Dalton and I aren’t together. Mostly it has to do with me being a jerk and since this is my blog I’m not going into it. If you want the truth go read Dalton ’s blog. He doesn’t have one but if he did I’m sure it would be mostly about me. Or not. I’m sure it would have nothing to do with the great life he has in Brooklyn .

So Turkey day is just two days away, Every year I get up and watch the thanksgiving day parade. When I was a kid I dreamed of being there in Harold’s square. Now that I’ve been outside of Macy’s and have seen the square. Not so much. The best part of the parade last year was Doogie Howser or Neil Patrick Harris being a HUGE QUEEN out on the street. Girl was freezing and bitter’ bout it. Did this happen when I was a kid and never noticed, I hope not. Although I do remember Ernie and Bert walking hand in hand though Harold’s Square and wishing it was me holding Ernie's hand.

WHERE'S THE BEEF

We went to lunch yesterday at Subway. As we waited in line we realized that there were two Subway associates working, an under aged pregnant girl and a skateboard dude from "regular lahunga beach." Dude, dude. Dude. The wait was long, very long. When I got to the glass my sandwich was a lot for dude to comprehend. Suddenly roast beef was missing, Dude asked Pregos “Uhh where’s the beef?” Okay so anyone over the age of 35 would of laughed. Where’s the beef?
Get it? So I laughed, Dude didn’t get it, he’s 12. Pregos replied “In the cooler” in a you Idiot kind of inflection. He walks into the cooler and is gone for a while. My stomach growls.Time passes, my laptop's OS gets more out dated. He comes out, “where is the Beef?” I laugh again. Pregos says “ up on the left” the door to the freezer closes. A while passes finally Pregos goes and opens the cooler door. Dude is standing in the middle of the cooler just staring into space. Let’s just say it took awhile to get my damn beef sandwich.

JUST ANOTHER DAY

I was out at dinner last night with some friends and as conversations always go our talk came to systemic, chronic diseases. Drugs, treatments and doctors were all discussed. Keeping healthy or preventive steps was the order of the day. Two of the friends are positive with a zero viral load and one has diabetes. At one point I stopped and realized that I had nothing to add due to not having any personal experience. I thought, “How boring am I.” Then some sort of odd guilt set in, Mormons aren’t permitted to have guilt, maybe gays ones do?

I was listening to a podcast the other day and they referred to HIV – AIDS as an issue in the past. They did do this in all reverence like referring to victims in the towers on 9/11. Yet it seams odd to be in a day where the STD sirens are not blaring and we now refer this as a chronic illness. Now if you say these words “chronic illness” in front of someone who worries about the health insurance due to that the drugs they will be taking for the rest of their life’s would be three thousand a month if it where not for the “safety net” of the drug coverage of their insurance you just might get slapped. Being a HR Manager I talk to employees about health benefits. It’s very telling when medical and drug coverage is discussed.

I guess when you start to grow up everyone has choices to make and deal with the crap that’s thrust apron them, or not thrust upon them. It reminds me of the Oingo Bingo hit Just Another Day.

THE MAN IS INSANE

Last night I spoke a sentence that I never dreamed would fall from my lips. I shouted up the stairs “Well put some pants on and we’ll drive down to the Wal-marts and see if they have your aluminum Christmas tree!”

I stopped for a second when I spoke this wondering if Clinton Ford or Rupaul ever yelled this to their boy friends. Why you ask would I of all people be yelling this to my boyfriend? Me, Mr. “ I only shop at Puma and the Mac store” saying this to a former Mr. International Leather finalist? Funny you ask, see Fuzzy wants an aluminum Christmas tree. I think it’s because last year I talked him into buying a 10’ Douglas fir just to see it turn brown in about 2 days. I quietly drug it to it’s early grave on the 10th of December. Swearing that the tree preservative was Yule tide cyanide. He swears this is not the case, you know he lies. He heard that they have “real aluminum trees” at Wal-mart. I started to ask if I should bring the aluminum axe to cut it down but since it’s early November it would of started dropping foil nettles by Thanksgiving.

Off we go to the evil empire. Have you been in a Wal-Mart? It’s like the renaissance feastival sans the turkey legs but still with all the chubby couples. This one had a creepy Pat Booneish quality. We get to “Christmas land” which up to three days ago was “Patio land” to fight through screaming kids getting in touch with the Christmas Spirit to find a 6’ aluminum tree that Joseph and Mary would have given birth under had they not saw the patio furniture over on isle 4 instead. Fuzzy soon falls in love and I of course encourage him thinking “the man is insane” but what the hell. I will not have to haul this one out of his house in the middle of the night like the Eight is Enough Christmas special. As we left the tree display I saw a helpful Wal-elf and asked where the Menorahs where. She looked over at a glowing Joseph for a second and said that I she thought they were next to sporting goods. Oy vey.

TOSSING SALAD

I have to admit that I’ve been involved in an affair. This relationship has perplexed me for quite awhile. Not really knowing where I stood, I spent my Lunches trying to figure it out for a month now. My courtship with the Quiznos Subs lady started as soon as they opend the Quiznos next to my gym. Hoping to lose some weight for the next gay cruise I’ve been trying to lose some of my belly. I’m kind of muscly but you can’t really see it under my layer of insulation. I’m also a creature of habit and have been eating Cobb salads with Honey mustard several times a week. I’m now down 10 pounds.
I step up to the glass and order the same thing every other day. “Cobb to go with honey mustard.” I’ve been giving this request to my Quisnos lady, some days she has a look of appreciative sympathy. She greets me kindly, rings me up tell me to have a great day. Other days I’m a new person on a new day, unfamiliar and alien.
Today was out of the ordinary, she asked three times what I was having, four times if it was to go. Then could not remember how to ring me up. She then stopped and told me that she no longer had a short term memory “due to my age” she said to explain. My first thought was if she remembered the blue cheese on my salad. Then upset with myself for never even noticing that my Quiznos lady had to be in her early 70s. This chain of thought was interrupted however by her placing of the third of four drink cups into my hand. So this is why she’s been so hot and cold in our relationship. It all made since in that moment. I quickly told her that she was fine and not to worry about it. She smiled at me like I wish if I had a mother or grandmother they would look at me. Just as she turned to toss my credit card into the box with my salad.

Fudge covered conservative ISO unicorn lover

Have you heard the one about the gay prostitute that took down the right wing preacher Ted Haggard by outing him as a fudge packer? Then he wrote a book about it. Yes. I believe that Mike Jones did the right thing due to Ted the preacher fostering a culture of anti-gay hate and fictitious family values, and yet he was going behind his wife to pound a guy in heated fudge butt smacking. So good for Mike the gay prostitute for coming forward. Anyway, Fuzzy and I are behind Mike (sorry, no pun) in line at Das Bog this morning. He's big muscled, great arms not that I like that on a man but I would bend him over in a second. Soooo he gets to the counter and he opens his mouth to order and this huge gold lamee purse falls out, glitter and unicorns flew everywhere. Fuckity, fuck fuck!! Can we please have a gay in the news that doesn't sound like Carol Channing? Even if he does look like Colt’s Gage? I you haven’t seen Gage, check him out. I love that I have Gage from Colt is on my MySpace friends list.

THE SPORT BIKE OF DEATH

A while back I decided that I needed, not wanted needed a sport bike. Yes, I know what you just thought; He's going to kill himself. I know this because everyone I have told my dream to has said, " Ooooh- are you sure, you could kill yourself." Maybe this is because my friends have witnessed my.... physical prowess. Like this pridefest when Carl had to contain himself when I fell off a stone wall at Civic Center. Carl was nice enough to say, " I did the same thing." That's what friends do; they lie to make you feel better. Although there has been no sugar coating the motorcycle and I've come to realize that I'm just like Ralphie. Remember A Christmas Story? All Ralphie wanted was that Red Rider be-be gun with a compass in the stock. He dreamed of Christmas morning when He'd rush down stairs to find his new trusty rifle to keep the house safe from bandits. He dreamed of all the great things he'd do with his rifle. Well I have a dream just like Ralphie, a gay motorcycle dream. I'll rush down stairs to find a Yamaha R6 under the tree. I dream of taking my new bike for a spin around Cheeseman Park down then to Daz Bog. As I park right in front and all the muscle guys stare as I take off my helmet to let the wind blow through my long luxurious hair. Uh.....sorry, I don't have nor do I want long luxurious hair. That and Muscle guys don't hang out at Daz Bog. Here's a side note, what happened to all the Muscle guys in this city? Welcome to Steve off topic, I'll be your host. 
A Christmas story keeps coming back to me, I feel like I went to talk to Santa and sitting upon his lap I blurted out " I want a Yamaha R6s sport bike in cherry red. Santa shakes this head and said " You'll kill your self kid" as he pushes me down the slide with his boot (am I the only one who feels that was sort of Homo-erotic?)

I have to say Dalton was the best when he said " I really don't want to come just for your funeral" to which I stated that I was going to be cremated and have myself mailed to him so he could keep me under his sink next to the scrubbies. Can you just picture it, years from now Dalton comes home from the Gallery and his hunky bear of a lover greets him stating that he tried scrubbing out the tub after his title win of Mr. Bear NYC but the cleaner wasn't very good, to which Dalton replies "oh that's not Ajax that's my stupid Ex that bought a sport bike" then Mr. Bear says " He died on a sport bike? Didn't you tell him he'd kill himself?" They then both just shake their heads. 
Even with the threat of Mr. Bear NYC using me for Ajax I still lay in bed at night dreaming of lassoing varmints from the back of my Yamaha. Making matters worse Fuzzy and I were to get bikes together, although he is more sensible and is getting another cruiser, a Yamaha Roadliner, 700 pounds of red and chrome. Fuzzy now has his bike and I'm still sitting here like it's Christmas eve, tormented by all the dreams of my bike and yet having all the swarms of friends hovering around singing "you'll kill yourself - you'll kill yourself."

My ipod on a treadmill, Vanessa Williams and a Katana

I have found that I'm addicted to my ipod; yea the music side of things is fine. It's the TV shows. I began looking forward to doing the treadmill at the gym just to watch shows that I've down loaded from itunes. I run out to my Jeep at lunch just to watch shows on my little 3" by 3" screen. The worst is thank to Jerrod. He got me hooked on a show called Ugly Betty. 
Now I hate "broadcast stuff." I have not listened to FM radio since Sept. 12th 2001. I hate Broadcast TV, with its reality shows. Of course this does not include the news, Dalton and Carl busted me one day having 2 TVs on to CNN and NBC and walking back and forth just in case I missed something. 
Back to Ugly Betty. Have you seen this, It's fucking cute. I of course always missed it on the tube, with all its commercials and set time to make you watch when it wants you to, but I found it on itunes. I spent the 15 bucks and down loaded it to my sexy Macbook and to my ipod. This is things get scary, ME wanting to run on a treadmill?? I would never before this ipod thing just because the treadmills didn't have ashtrays. So here's when I knew I had a problem, besides wanting to keep running even after the timer runs down on the bastardized version of the Jetson's dog walker just to see if Betty keeps the Gucci bag or trades it for a huge favor to be determined later, it's because I had a night mare. 
So in this nightmare, I'm being chased by Vanessa Williams AKA Wilhelmina Slater through the streets of NY. Yeah she has that Lesbian from the Bravo show Workout to help her, but that's another download. So she's chasing me, probably for my wicked fashion sense, which we all know is a dream state (I'm always really built in my dreams.) So we do Battle for a while, that woman can fight by the way. She had a lot of ninja moves like in the House of Fling Daggers, but with an "I just got my booted from a 1983 pageant" kind of anger but in a Vera Wang suit. So I think my ninja skills were equally matched, I do remember there was a part of a "Bruce Willis" hot wiring a car to stop Vanessa from some horrible take over of NY scene. That were right in the middle of the big final fight scene were I wake up. Damn!!! Damn!!! I almost chopped off the head of the evil Vanessa Williams with a Katana and now you want me to get up and go to work as a mild mannered office worker?? Are ya fucking kidding me? So if ya see her, tell her I'm looking for her, and she'll pay. Pay dearly.

NOT SO BEAR

We were hanging out over at Frank and Kevin’s house last night to watch American Idol, which I hate. But I’m a lemming, so there. We were talking about on-line sites and how much I enjoy the on-line porn. I enjoy on-line porn like other guys like football, I plan my weekend around it and I could sit around and watch it for hours.
Anyway I had mentioned that I went on to a certain bear web site designed for cruising and hooking up. So I signed up or in, or what the hell-ever (all the rest of them are on this certain bear site.) I entered all the info they requested and submitted a pic or two. I then waited for the confirmation saying that I can start trolling for colon. It doesn't come. The next day I get an official E mail from this bear site saying that I'm turned down. Yeah, turned down. It read something like I might fit better at a gay / muscle site. Then they listed a few gay muscle sites. Ummmm WHAT?? Sooooooooo lets just stop there, shall we. I don’t want for this to come off wrong, Okay.
I was turned down by a bear on bear fuck feast web site Iike I was applying for a home loan?!
Ummmmmmmmm what?
Yeah, me. I can shove my finger up a hairy guys ass and find the "G spot" in about 3 seconds.
Sorry,
I have 18 biceps.
I drive a full size truck.
I have Chaps DAMN IT!
Suddenly I'm all hurt that I'm not one of the cool kids. Turned down by a gay overweight fuzzy male web site?
Do I care?
Okay, not really but it was kind of funny.
The best part was when I told this story last night; someone thought I was making it up. So I'm not bear. GRRRRR.
Not enough anyway, should I buy flannel?
I did watch Star Trek when it was on.

Road trip

So, I'm leaving on a road trip tomorrow to take my partner of 4 years to New York. He's moving to Brooklyn, this is something that he's always wanted; all his friends have ended up in the city. So I'm trying to be supportive, trying to keep his sprits up and keep him focused on what a great thing this will be (leaving his job, selling his car and moving to a strange city.) He'll finally get to live in the city with all of his friends and close to all the theater and museums that he loves.

It just hit me about an hour ago that my lover/partner and friend is leaving. He had been my very closest friend through the years since we met in Dallas and I always knew that he wanted to live in a bigger city, Dallas was to small and Denver was REALLY too small, I know that living in NY will be the very best thing that could possible happen to D. So when ya know that a friend wants something badly ya just help out however ya can.

God damn, I don't need this to be a downer. But Suddenly I'm really pissed and sad. When ya sleep next to someone for all these years then suddenly their gone. That hurts my head.

We're driving his moving van through to Brooklyn; and I've mapped out all the fast food places I want to stop at. Runza, Steak and Shake and the best White Castle. I'm pissed that there is not a single Jack n the Box on the way but HELLO White Castle. Leave it to me to be dumped by a guy, help him move across the country to get away from me, then be excited about fast food joints along the way. Go figure.

All I Want is a Room Somewhere

The lease is up on our apartment at the end on February. I'm getting some flack from friends because I've started to pack up the house. I think it makes sense to pack up all the crap you're not using and get it ready so you can keep it out of the way, but I'm crazy like that. Today's blog post; however, about trying to finding an apartment.  I think I'd rather be flogged on a 17th century sailing vessel then look for an apartment. 


I found some really cool listings on-line in the Denver central area, but find that they're with the same rental company. I go to their office and meet Nathan, a nice guy who shows me some cool places I might select. I go back to he's office and fill out the application. Now keep in mind that I'm in HR so I know about the slow process on considering an application. As soon as I drop is off that little voice starts. There sooo gonna turn your down, They are going to ask for $7000 dollars up front, what are ya thinking and my favorite do really want this apartment?


I guess it's the whole approval thing, it sucks. Nathen states he'll call me and let me know on Monday, Then all day Monday.... Nothing, I start to REALLY worry, (like I'm his whore waiting for the next time he can get away from he's wife.) I call and leave a voice mail. Nothing. So later on Tuesday he calls. "Oh yeah, Steve your fine" like I'm his bitch waiting for him to tell me he loves me. Aaaaaaaagh!! So then he gives me to Trisha, I really don't know why other then he's tired of me, who will find a time for me to see the really cool pad over on Speer Blvd. "Let me check with the resident and I'll call you back to schedule a time." That was Wednesday of last week. Now I'm Trisha's whore. I'm jumping at my phone when It rings hoping It's Trisha telling me she loves me.