NOW MORE THAN EVER

If I have to hear this phrase one more time I’m climbing up the bell tower with a high powered rifle.

Now more than ever
You need a live ferret in your pants.
Now more than ever
Put Crispy Cream doughnuts on the cat.
Now more than ever
Bareback.

So why is the current economic climate a time to scare people into buying stuff? And, why are they using a Richard Nixon campaign slogan? Okay, yes I know the answer to the first question. And sorry, you'd have to be a HUGE nerd to understand the second question. But, do commercials need to use a deep baritone voice over to make you think that your 401K has tanked so now you deserve pizza.

Now more than ever,
I need a hand job. Well, whatever works.

On a related note, last night Fuzz and I got a little Bam-chike-bawm-bam on the Super-squishy-elle-shaped sofa of love. When we were done and catching our breath, Fuzz’s first words were, not “you’re amazing” it was “what do you want for dinner?”

"Now more than ever I need a towel." I calmly responded.

YOGA, DAY ONE

It’s funny how when you try to improve yourself, you’re reminded how bad off you are. I got slapped in the face with this yesterday when we tried yoga for the first time. Can I just say that I’m old and have no lateral movement what-so-ever?

One of the calmly suggested commands was “grasp your hands behind your back.” Suddenly I felt like Tiny the Dinosaur….in yoga class.

“I’ve got this big head and these tiny arms.”


Why did I go in to this thinking that it was just stretching? I have never sweat so much in my entire life. Not to mention today with all the weird muscles hurting. But, I’m ready for the next class. I won’t however do a chest workout beforehand. Bad idea.

My plan for the day

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I guess Christmas is really over….

Yesterday Fuzzy, the better half let me know that my Christmas wreath needed to go into the trash.

I know! Right! It’s not even May. I’m really going to “pine” for my wreath.




Oh, well November isn’t that far away.

Dinner with Fuzzy

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WHEN BEARS ATTACK.....YOGA

An odd thing happened early Sunday morning. As I slowly awoke to another amazing day in Colorado my first thought was of the treadmill at 24hour fitness. This has never happened before, it amazed me.

On Saturday Carl, Dalton, and I went to look for mid-century furniture. Because, we’re in our late thirties/early forties, gay, and that’s just what we do. As part of our trek, we rewarded ourselves with a trip to the DQ, I had a chocolate shake. This is probably why, after spending the remainder of the day on the elle shaped super squishy sofa of love* watching season six of Dallas with Fuzzy, I woke up on Sunday. “I needed to get my ass to the gym.“

There are some hot guys at the Alameda, 24hour fitness. This helped me reach a new level of incline and speed, Damn it hurt. But I just kept picturing standing next to the pool on a gay cruise, without a shirt on. “Run damn you! Run! I will not be seen with cruise muffin top! I found it very motivational, to randomly scream out:

“Everyone will laugh at you” they’ll see your dirty pillows!”

I’m sure that this also motivated my fellow cardio-maniacs. Several around me quickly left, I’m sure this was to go hit the weights.

Tuesday is Yoga day, the first day back to Yoga. I say “first day back” because I tried it three times in late ’02. But, tomorrow I make my return. Frank and Carl and joining in, it will be fun! And, not at all like the Bears in the big ring be trained to balance a ball on their noses. Not at all. If I’m not to sweaty, I’ll try to work my Instamatic.



Me, in yoga class.

*Also known as the ESSQSL

SLOW NEWS DAY

Thanks to FOF, or Feast of Fun podcast I’ve found a new favorite website Guys with iPhones.com*

So, my leisure pursuit of self-portraits using my shiny, black friend has validation. Now the guys on this site are a little too skinny for me, still it’s nice to be validated.

Have you noticed that Facebook has worked it's way into every conversation lately? For me anyway it's turned into a way of ignoring work by checking to see how much Pam Ann’s life is better than mine and to have 80’s song lyric wars. Just another way of passing my time until I get to bore you with another blog post. Really, I know. In fact most people have stopped reading this to go check their Facefook status. It’s okay I’m cool. Am I your friend on Facebook? Hit me up, I have a huge arsenal of 80’s song lyrics, I can go for days.

Look It's my first flip-flop day at work...






*NSFW /BTW /LMAO

GAYEST BLOG POST EVER

A gay man’s little black dress; camouflage cargo shorts. Timeless, cool and comfortable.

My thoughts have turned to spring, and the drawer of sleeveless muscle shirts in the IKEA highboy. Oh, how I’ve missed them, all taut against my shoulders. They’ve been cast aside, ignored for the winter, and like any living thing need sunlight to survive. Soon my pets, soon.

Have I mentioned how much I love spring? Soon I can wear my cargo shorts and shirts sans sleeves to zip around Cheeseman Park with the top down on the Jeep.*

*I’ve successfully made the gayest blog post ever. Girl.

I'm dating my car, but I'm having all the same problems

OK! I’ve got five words:
MY CAR IS MY LOVER.

It’s a Documentary exploring extreme relationships. It’s a film that follows two men who have sexual relationships with their cars. An uppity British film crew follows two men who are known as ‘mechaphiles’. That’s somebody who’s in love with their vehicle. And by "love" I mean blow loads of foaming man gravy on its dirty little bumper.

You can love your car; just don’t “love” your car. It’s on YouTube if you missed it on BBC America. Ever since I saw it, my Jeep’s been giving me the evil eye.

MISSING, MISSED MISSED-CONNECTIONS

It's time once again for Missed Missed-Connections from Craigslist. Oh, the human drama.


K Mart Broadway/Alameda - m4m - 44 (Denver)
Saturday afternoon in Electronics. Two way/ Three Way, maybe? I hope to hear from you.

You do know you’re trying to pick up a guy at K-Mart right?
Just checking.



Home Depot - Alameda & Santa Fe - m4m (Denver)
We were both at the customer service desk at the same time. You had a cart with a large item on it.....what was on the cart?

Uh, you just wanted to know what was on his cart? I thought the purpose of Craigslist was to hook up for sex. Cool, whatever.



You work at Target in Glendale in the Deli - m4m - 26 (Denver)
You work at Target in the Deli... I think your name might be Dave (as my friend hollered to me in front of you on purpose a few weeks back). Not sure if there's even a shot here, and even if there is if you'd be interested. I think we've exchanged glances a few times or it could be wishful thinking. This isn't the 'let's hookup' type of MC, more like hit me up and let's grab some dinner and drinks kinda post.

….and can I get two pounds of that honey ham and a half pound of smoked Gouda. Thanks!




Our last entry falls under the “I’ve tried everything but talk to him! And, I’m all out of ideas” category. Wow, I do love the attached picture, that wasn’t me. It actually had the LOLcat included. This was to make it not only sad, but pathetic. Sad and pathetic, Pathetisad.
Cue the Neal Diamond and Barbara duet…..

“You don’t bring me flowers anymore….”

Papa bear - m4m - 21 (alone)
You and I used to be so close... I don't know what happened. I was the cub, you were my bear. Was it because I grew up? Because I'm not as naive as I once was? I know you have your own problems, but I have mine too. I can still look past all of this... if you'd only look at me like you used to. Other guys are attractive to you, but you never tell me I look nice anymore. I do things FOR YOU, and I don't even get a good job. I miss you. I miss... us.
I think if you really wanted to end it, you'd just come out and say it's over. Why are you hiding your feelings from me? If you can tell me what I did wrong, I'd fix it. I got hurt, and you didn't even come to see me... Am I nothing to you anymore? I've stopped crying to myself about you. I can't hurt anymore, so I want to know... Am I still yours, or has my use finally ran out?

That is one sad kitty...bear cub....no, kitty. Pussy really.

Hey, I've found a new way to find a gym. Go to your local Craigslist and scan down the Missed Connections pertaining to "Locker room hook ups" and Viola. Your new gym. You're welcome.

SCI-NERD-FI

We went to the Sci-Fi convention this weekend here in Denver. Wow! If you ever want to feel really good about yourself, head out to one of these feasts-o-nerds. There was about six of us, we stayed pretty close to each other as to not get attacked by something coming through the Stargate.

I only collect cool comics*, like the Red Star series and I did find a couple of rare issues. Not that it makes me a nerd or anything.

I also found out that despite their sunny reputation, Klingons are not a fun people. I found this out when a rubenesque Klingon ran smack into me. Since he was 5’4” he bounced off and as he started to curse me in his native tongue I said something like “Oh—you’re sooo cute.” Never tell a short Klingon he’s cute. Never.


*Cool as in socially awkward, not dateless.

RODNEY'S IN CHERRY CREEK NORTH

The other night we discovered a great new restaurant. Well, it’s really a bar that serves incredible food. Rodney’s in Cherry Creek North. Huge juicy steaks with all the old style fixins, seriously how long has it been that you’ve seen Spaghetti as a side dish? They also have one hell of a Cosmo.

Not that I drink Cosmos.

It’s one of those dark wood paneled rooms that you’d meet your romantic rival in just to splash your bourbon n branch in their face. Half way through my steak I had to hit the head. As I stood at the urinal I started to focus on the framed prints in front of my nose. This is what I started to focus on:





Wow! They appeared to be some sort of record book of really bad things.

Really bad things.

So, I whipped out my trusty iPhone to share some of the records with you. I’m a giver, and apparently so was Young Ruh. Although, I’ve got a “friend” who has Kathy Curnabelle beat. Hands down.

NICE TO SEE POLAR BEAR LEDERHOSEN

We actually remembered to use our reusable grocery bags last night. I just explained to Fuzzy that we needed to start bringing our totes so we can stop using plastic grocery bags. There’s a patch of plastic junk the size to Texas in the middle of the Pacific, so we need to do our part. Of course he suggested that I just put the bags under the sink instead of the end of the warm water flow of the Pacific. “That that might help” he calmly noted.

I retorted, “When you stop melting the North Pole, causing Logo to run the five minute long commercial on how the Polar Bears are slowing starving to death. I can hardly wear my Polar Bear lederhosen out anymore.”

So the trip to Uber-Target was pretty great, I had a great feeling of doing our part with the cool new reusable totes. Until the cashier kept uttering under her breath how much trouble they were. So I said “Just sack my bottles of water and stop staring at my lederhosen!”

NSFW

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BECCA WINEINGER!

When I was in Brooklyn a couple of weeks ago, I was moving a heavy box down and out to the side walk. As I came out of the door I nearly smacked right into a tiny, little woman. She was the type that you could tell she had just completed a long, overnight shift at the plant. I don’t know, maybe holding the hand grenades as the machine inserted the pin. Then after another stressful day of making tools for our war machine had to walk forty blocks to catch the train. Just as she almost home here comes a cock with a box to smack her down. Instead of snapping at me, she softly said:

“God bless you.”

How freaking cute is that!? I’ve been thinking about her ever since. Then, Fuzzy and I saw this commercial:




Now, every time they announce Becca Wineinger for Prom Queen, Fuzz just melts and tears up. I on the other hand start to laugh and mock Becca. “That hair is all wrong I snap” and “I made a poopy!” Yes, I’m mocking a poor special needs child. But just this morning I thought back to the tiny woman on the sidewalk in Brooklyn. Don’t ya hate it when you start to grow up?

DEAD AUNT CORN

Dinah Shore the Alfa lesbian came into my cubical today.

“Steve. I brought some caramel corn in if you want some.”

I thought, wow that’s nice.

“I had to go clean out my great aunts house after passing. I gave it to her a couple years back and she never ate it.”

“Huh, thanks” Soooooo she offered me popcorn she found in her dead relatives house. That Auntie didn’t even want years ago? What kind of bottom feeder does she think I am?

Turns out I’m the kind that eats dead-aunt corn.

NICE TO SEE EASTER DAY

Just overheard:
"I like wearing a toga! You get to wear a broach and guys don't judge."
Oh we judge. Trust.

Mr. Happy goes to the leather bar

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COLTON FORD HATES ME

As you know I have a soft spot for Colton Ford. And by “soft spot” I mean…you know what I mean. Sometimes I just sit and think about him, his hard furry chest, his silver screen career, and his oddly misshapen cranium. I'll sit for hours writing his name on my Social Studies book. Mrs. Colton Ford, Steve Ford, Mr. Steven Ford over and over until the bell rings.

So, I’m readily prepared to casually run into him out in public. In Denver. Colorado. It could happen; maybe on at trip to Aspen we could unexpectedly get the same chair lift. See, it could happen.

Like a normal evening Dalton and I had gone to get some Sushi, then we wanted Gelato. Somehow, instead of Italian ice we ended up at a cute little French place in Cherry Creek North eating crepes. Oooh-la-la! I ordered what seemed to be a crepe banana split. This is what I got:





A super gay French dessert extravaganza! It looked like a gay ice-cream hat…..chapeau, sorry. A saucy bonnet. It didn’t help that when the sommelier set it down I scream “Viola” as in VIE-OOLA. Then proceeded to asked Dalton twenty times;”Aren’t crepes ‘spost to be soft and squishy?" As I sat there with my defile of chocolate syrup I thought “great this is when Colton Ford would walk in. He turns to me and thinks;

“Wow! look at that flaming gay chocolate covered, strawberry filled mess. Eating that huge dessert.”

I’d try to impress him by smiling and puffing up my chest wall but he’d just notice the line of melted ice-cream dribbled down my shirt. I’d try to chase after him screaming “Colton comeback! I’m your biggest fan; I have all of your albums, even the really bad ones! Glenn…..Mr. Soukesian……” but he’d be gone.
The funny thing is, when I was playing this all in my head staring down at my crispy crepe, I suddenly realized that music was beginning to swell.

Dunn-de dunn
Boom-be-boom
Quietly at first, then louder.
If I only could make a deal with God……
It was so familiar, yet….I couldn’t place it.
I’d be running up that hill……
Was that... Kate Bush? Why was I having a daydream about Colton Ford and Kate Bush coming up as the scene fades out? Beats me. I just finished my ice-cream as I enjoyed the night air talking to Dalton about being back in Denver with Kate Bush playing in the background.
“…..and if I only could, I’d make a deal with god
And I’d get him to swap our places
Be running up the road, be running up the hill
Be running up that building
Say if I only could…….”

....last night in the kitchen

“Did you throw out the Mac-n-cheese?”
“Yes.”
“So…this is what our relationship is based on? You just throw out food whenever it fits you whim?”
“Our relationship is based on me taking care of you in ways you don’t understand, like removing food that might kill you.”
“Don’t try your super-Oprah-powers on me. Sneaking around and cleaning out the fridge behind my back. What? You want out now?”
“Throwing away old food symbolizes to you the ending of our relationship?”
“Because you never communicate with me when you’re going to just toss away crusty Chinese food. When I get moldy are you going to toss me away?”
“Damn Skippy!”
“I just want to know when I need to say goodbye to our leftovers. I need closure. Couldn't you just update your Facebook status?”
“That I’m tossing Mac-n-cheese?”
“It would be proper.”
“Leave this kitchen!”
“See! You systematically removing our leftovers is tearing us apart!” You want to see other refrigerators now?
“Huh……maybe I’ll start a blog. I’ll call it NICE TO SEE STEVIEB WITH FOOD POISONING. I’ll blog about how much moldy Mac-n-cheese sends you to the ER. Pictures and everything, “here’s StevieB with his head in the toilet. Isn’t that cute. Oh, look he’s green! Hot!”

“You won’t always be able to use your Jedi Powers on me.”

CAPTAIN CRISCO!

....and back in New York, Spiderman finally gets what he really wants from CAPTAIN CRISCO...


Thanks failblog.org

IT'S THE EASTER BEAGLE, STEVIEB

It's The Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown* airs tonight, Tuesday, April 7th 2009 (8:00-9:00 p.m., ET) on ABC. I just thought I’d remind you, I know how you’d kick yourself if you missed it.

This special weaves together several sub-plots into an Iliad proportioned drama which echoes Linus’ beliefs in the Great Pumpkin. Which not unlike Scientology has a strong belief that the Easter Beagle will solve the world's woes.

During this parable, our favorite lesbian couple Peppermint Patty and Marcie struggle with their feminist roles. Whilst Lucy follows her belief that Easter is another reason to receive gifts from the tortured musician, Schroeder. Who, in about 20 years will be playing show tunes on an Atlantis cruise. The pinnacle scene being when a rabid dog pelts small children with eggs, and if that isn’t the true meaning of Easter, I just don’t know what to tell you.



* side effects may include an overwhelming urge to dance with bunnies.

I got to a new speed and incline on the treadmill last week. Just as my feet started to fall off I thought:
"Do I need new running shoes? Do I really need another pair of Pumas?" Beyond my well documented Puma fetish, do I need a better pair of pumas for running. I started to get that feeling when I walk into the Puma store. The one I also get when I see Zeb Atlas. Then, just as I mentally talked myself out of needing running shoes I thought:
What would 30 Helen's say..........

As I walked in the house this afternoon to pick up Fuzz so we could head out to the AutoShow, I noticed that he too was wearing a blue T-shirt with white lettering.
"I'm changing! I hate the matching gay couple thing!"

As we walked into the show I saw a reflection. Me in my red shirt and blue cap. Fuzz in his blue shirt and red cap.

Great.

YOU GO BROOKLYN!

Every square inch if Brooklyn is tagged. Random spray paint marks blotting out any proof of civilized society. I was getting pretty tired of it, and then I spotted this:


Yes,thank you. I will go; you go as well. Girl.

Italian Stuffed Artichokes

Fuzzy’s Mom came to spend the night last night. Being a good Italian Mom she showed up on the front step with a pressure cooker under one arm and a bag of food in the other. And, being a really great Italian Mom she Cooked Italian Artichokes and eggplant parmesan all day long, then just cleared out. When we got home, we found what resembled a mafia controlled delicatessen. Although the cheese wasn’t hanging from the ceiling.

So, last night we feasted on Italian Stuffed Artichokes. Yummy!
Here’s a link for a recipe. Not her recipe, because if I gave that out…..I’d sleep with the fishes.

Our Trip To Target

This was taken right before Fuzzy got cranky. He really wanted that Hello Kitty bike.

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THE ADVOCATE'S TOP 10 C&W BARS

The Advocate.com has released their Top 10 Country Gay Bars. Can I get a Yee-haw? Number One? The Round Up Saloon, Dallas.


Man, I have spent way too much time in this place. Standing against a wall wearing perfectly creased Wranglers with a wad of chew in my lip. And, as you will know it was used in season two of Dallas where Lucy Ewing was force to sing country.

Charlie’s in Denver was number five.




Wow, I have not been to Charlie’s forever. Do they still have two bathrooms, one to piss in and one for me..I mean people to fuck in? Find out where your favorite C&W bar ranked.