Sunday, July 6, 2008


I was walking down the sidewalk to our house coming home form work. As I crossed paths with my elderly neighbor she smiled and looked at the bouquet of flowers in my hand. “Making up for something?” She said knowing that Fuzzy and I live two houses down. I started to respond when she said, “ Your both still going to go the hell ya know!”

Two things went through my head at this point. One is that Fuzz feels bad that I refer to her as “the used vacuum cleaner bag.” The second being that I call our house SouthFork. Yes, after the show Dallas. No, not because it looks anything like the white ranch house that Sue Ellen pined away for. This is due to its geographical location to the city. You would have to be a Super-duper hyper gay nerd to actually know the geographical relationship of Southfork ranch to Dallas. I am just that gay.

In 2003 I convinced Dalton to go on a tour of Southfork ranch. This met with same response as if I said I wanted to cover him with blood and walk out into Galveston Bay to feel around for sharks. But at least at Galveston Bay we would get some sun. When we arrived at Southfork I casually noted that the weather was just like in Winds Of Vengeance. Dalton casually noted that if we made it out of there I should conceder myself dumped.

Just in case you didn’t already know, Southfork ranch is about 25 miles northeast of Dallas, as is our house is from Denver. Which makes it hard sometime to consider myself a gay-ghetto gay. What with the commute and all, but still if the man friend wanted us to sell our cute little bungalow and move to Castro, boystown or Chelsea it may take me about a nano-second to grab our flat screen tuck the Shar-pei and run. I was thinking of running out of this burb as the words the vacuum cleaner bag were still blurting out at me sunk in. “You need to find Jesus, young man.”
My response was “Who do you think the flowers are for?”


SharkBoy said...

Well, if you and Fuzzy end up hell, look for the "used vaccum cleaner bag", she won't be too far away...

Good answer on the flower.. hehe

Gooster said...

I have a condo reserved that overlooks the river Hades! You boys should come over for passion fruit mojito's and beef satay some Saturday! There is no pool, but it has a wonderful steam room and as always in gay hell, you either have to wear nothing or a mumu!

I hope you didn't get him pansy's!

Moby said...

Imagine every gay person that ever live in Hell. As CoCo Peru puts it, "its a party is what it would be." lol

People like your neighbor often say things like that because no one ever calls'em on it. Just a thought.

StevieB said...

BTW, we had friends over for the 4th, as they carried the cases of beer and sodomy by her house they would comment “Ewwww- who’s the creepy old lady and why is her living so badly decorated?” ( They said with a heavy lisp, and heavy sarcasm.) “Lady. Pleeeze, earth tones do not go with pale blue plush shag…… Nothing goes with pale blue plush shag.”

Kezza said...

Right, so... We're all going to hell? Fantastic, nothing but endless warm days, thousands of other shirtless sodomites and all the immoral, naughty, god-defying bum-sex you can handle.

Sounds like a great way to spend eternity to me. Meanwhile what are all the god-fearing folk going to do? You can only sit around opining wholesome virtues for so long before it starts to get boring.

And if you knew what you were doing with those flowers for Jesus, you'd have bought Poppys, he could bring them to hell and we'd all have a source of opiates!

Oh boy, I can't wait! See y'all there!

eiain said...

You were very controlled, I think I would have used language that only the Devil would know. I loved your come back. Hope it stunned her.