Thursday, February 28, 2008

I have satellite tonight

So I raced home today to meet the Direct TV install guy. I was excited because this is the man that will return to me the world of Logo, Bravo and CNN. Well and maybe because of all the years of watching porn with the “Cable Guy coming over to work in my box.” Wow, Colt so lied to me. I know its not Colts fault. I could never be mad at Colt, but still. My install guy looks like the creepy guy from Goonies.
It’s so nice that he found work after his film career. So this dude starts to talk to me about the “bitchin” NFL channels, this is where I decide that the only thing to do while an unattractive install guy is molesting my Sony is to clean my oven. Dude as I call him is unaware that he will bring The Big Gay Sketch show into my well-appointed living room. Not that the NFL has 849 channels beamed to my dish. It took all of 2 minutes to clean my oven because I’ve used it exactly once to heat up Tater tots. Just as I start daydreaming of yummy baked tots the tunes on the Macbook changed and Cibo Matto's Sci-Fi Wasabi starts blaring. And, yes I started to dance a little, and yes I had a spatula in my hand just in time for Dude to approach me to explain all about the DVR. All chance of saving my dignity where gone. That NEVER happens in Colt not even Titan. But I have Logo and Dude has something to tell the wife. To which she’ll reply, “Didn't you tell him about the NFL?"

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Inconsequential Ramble

So accidentally ordered Direct TV tonight. I didn’t mean to, I just went on their site to check out what they had to offer. Oops, DVRing the Big Gay Sketch show. That’ll suck. So for Christmas I got Season one and Two of Dallas on DVD. For my Birthday I got seasons three and four. Thank you Carl. Yeah, I like Dallas the 70’s TV show. I’m sure there are dorky things you do. I do have to pace the watching after I was up until 3AM watching way to much on my Mac all curled up in bed. They tried to make me go to Dallas rehab and I said No, no no.

Since Fuzzy has been working late this week, Harley the Shar-Pei has been hanging out with me on the super squishy ell shaped sofa of love. We’ve been curled up watching Dallas and cruising Big Muscle Bear. I came across of all things a new song by Paula Abdul called Dance like there’s tomorrow, no I did not see it on American Idol. It is really good, Harley loves it and he has great taste in dance music. When he’s not peeing in the hallway.

Today at work was no different then any other I was horribly bored so like every day it seams I had a “conference call” with Frank and Dalton. While we were talking I also googled some new domain names. The first was Stevieb which turns into Stevie then I did one for Dalton, Dalton in New I used NY which came out “Dalto ninny” I found this hugely funny to the point that I could not breathe. Mighty mighty Dalton failed to see the humor in this.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Valentine's Day with Mr. and Mrs. Roper

So this Valentines Day Fuzzy was determined to get our heart shaped groove on. I tell anyone that will listen to my ramblings that I hate Valentines Day. It ranks somewhere between grocery shopping and getting anal probed with a traffic cone. But he actually wanted to do something. I hate it when boyfriends want to “do stuff.” So Tuesday I find out that we have reservations at the 17th avenue grill. At 6pm we meet for dinner, I even dressed up, underwear and everything. It’s one of those fancy places that stack their two tops so closes your pretty much eating with complete strangers. As I approach the table I size up our neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Roper to the left and a hip 30ish couple to the right. I think well here comes the Queers to insert our gayness right in the middle. Did I mention that Fuzzy had a huge heart shaped box of chocolates and a oversized bag with tissue fling everywhere under his arm? We slide in and Fuzzy informs me that we should have a great time and that we are going to enjoy this. Well, it’s not like we’re in the hole at the state pen. Our server who happens to be Jan Brady leans over Mr. Roper and asks us what would we like to drink, he orders a riesling I ask for her finest Diet Coke. She then tried to not roll her eyes but failed. I state to her and the Ropers “I thought it was funny” To which Mrs. Roper states, “yes, yes it was.”

Dinner was great; they had lamb, rabbit and veal on the menu. So we celebrate Valentine’s day by eating every cute cuddly creature that Bambie might of frolicked with? As this came out of my mouth the hip girl on my right kind of choked on the bite she was putting in her mouth. I giggled a little. Then kicked under the table and sent the huge heart box fling onto their feet. When it was time to open the bag of tissue Mrs. Roper started to gush. “Oh, I hope there’s a card! That’s so nice, you’re so lucky” I then pull out an amazing silver picture frame with a shot we had done on the gay boat. Mrs. Roper takes this from my hand and holds it in her hand like the Holy Grail. Holds it up for Mr. Roper to see then shows Jan and the gaggle of lesbians in the booth over in the corner. “You look so happy.” I smile and respond, “Yeah, we were on X.” Now that I think of it I did have a great time and I did enjoy it.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Buckingham Square me

As you get to know me it will take a while but you slowly realize my deep dark secret. Now I have to admit that this takes a lot less time for some. Depending on if you’ve seen me dance. This morning it smacked me square in the face. I am in fact a flaming nerd. Under this Jeep driving muscular gay guy skin is a closeted nerd with geek tendencies. Although I don’t have an opinion on who was better Kirk or Picard. Even as a kid I was only looking at the Klingons. This morning I received notice that I’ve been published. Not in Instigator magazine as I would like, but in Let’s start from the beginning shall we.

It’s the day after Thanksgiving in 2007 and I’m driving to work. I’m listening to NPR because that’s what I do when I’m driving to work and not listening to thump, thump music with black divas screaming “Everyone is Free.” That morning NPR had a story on about the website and the decline and death of America’s malls. I immediately thought of Buckingham Square mall, this is the mall of my youth. This is where I stood in line for 2 hours to get a Max Headroom T shirt. Later that day I went to there was nothing on this chunk of my youth. This is the mall where I fell in love with acid wash form County Seat and where I first learned to deep throat men twice my age in the men’s room stalls. I know, I know “EEEEEEEWW------Acid wash!
The next 6 months brought news that Buckingham Square Mall was to be torn down for a new shopping experience. My Stevie senses started to tingle. This is where my inner nerd tendencies started to come out of the closet. I became a nerd on a mission. I wrote a “brilliant” history of this sad, dirty little mall in a third rate suburb of Denver Colorado, I.M. Pei is spinning in his grave.* I then submitted this to Deadmalls. Just this morning I found out that I’m a published author. Ms. Tracy, my English teacher who failed me 2 years in a row would be so proud.
So check it out, There's not a direct link, search under "Site Updates" then posts from 1/14. let me know what you think.

*Yes, I know he’s not dead.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008


The worst part about taking a dream vacation is coming back. Spending 7 days with all your closest friends not to mention 3,982 other gays is nothing less then incredible. But as we left that boat the realization of returning home not to mention spending 12 hours on an airplane was a pin to my big gay happy balloon. The best part of the Miami airport was sleeping on the floor, somehow it worked out that Dalton my Ex and Fuzzy my current and myself ended up on the same patch of carpet in concourse C. There were several litters of men sleeping in piles around the airport. It looked like a tasteful, gay Jim Jones had passed out the grape Kool-Aid. If you’ve never had the joy of sleeping on the floor in an airport with the Ex and your new partner I highly recommend it.
Depressurizing has been a challenge; I don’t think I like life without a bass beat. In the last week I’ve reanalyzed that I really don’t understand straight people, like last night. I’m at the Kroger, Krogering and as I am checking out I start watching the bagger wiggle. Why is he wiggling I ask my self? He then blurts out to the cashier “ Look at me I’m dancing!” to which the cashier replies, “You’re dancing like a gay guy!” My ears perk up, what did she just say? He keeps dancing as happy as can be. The cashier then repeats herself. “You’re dancing like a gay guy!” Okay, we’re on! I’m pissed. I’m gonna go off stating that…….. Then I stop and think, she didn’t say anything real derogatory. And well yeah he was sort of dancing like a gay guy would. Just not as magnificent. What should I say? Hey, he’s not dancing like a gay guy, we dance much better! Isn’t this derogatory against straights? Well it would be the truth. So I simply say, If he were dancing like a gay guy he’d have poppers in his hand.