A totally believable reason why I didn’t blog today

I totally was going to blog today. Really, then on my way to my computer I got stuck in traffic. I guess the Olympic torch and all the crowds that follow that around was making its way through our entry way and across the living room. It took hours for the runner to get from the front door and out past the pool. Who knew so many vans and torch groupies had to accompany the torch on its path. Not to mention the protesters that tried to extinguish the flame around our wet bar.

Just about twenty minutes ago I got the last news vans out of Fuzzy’s flower beds. What a day. I’m glad that the Olympics only happen every four years. Those runners keep scuffing up my terrazzo. They just think the rule the world don’t they; now that I think of it…..I HATE those torch runners! Man, what right do they have? “Look at us we’re all making sure that the flame doesn’t go out.” I do that every Saturday night at the bar. Lighting drunk guys cigarettes. Where’s my parade? Just saying.

CAP IT OFF

When I started working for my current company it was shirts and ties, shirts and ties must look like government well-to-dos. Good for us walking around like we’re all military types.

Then, it was….”well no one can see our sixty-five dollars shirts and ties, let’s dress business casual.” Yeah, I was all for it.

Well, then everyone got laid off. Everyone. The herd of lesbians? Gone. All the formal LPGA golf shirts, bye-bye.

So, then us “Left Behinders” just started wearing jeans and T-shirts. Nice ones, it’s not like I’m wearing my Hoist Bar Tee* to work. Not that anyone would notice, or care.

My boss dropped by and gave me a cap with our branch of the military’s logo on it. Cool hu? I joked that I was going to start wearing caps to work, her response was one of you could wear a rubber glove on your head and run around screaming “I’m a chicken – I’m a chicken” and she wouldn’t care. So today, I’m wearing a baseball cap at work. Now the only reason I bring this up is because I feel weird. Maybe I’ve been in human resources so long somehow it’s just not right. Like cutting that rats nest out of Kate Gosselin's hair.

So, I think this goes in the I’m getting old file. That fact that I won’t wear baseball caps or leather bar T-shirts to work. Who knew?

*Google it, I dare you.

RUN STEVIE RUN

I’ve taken up running in Cheesman Park. Cheesman is the Homo-gay park here in the Denver hinterland. I’ve spent a lot of my somewhat adult life in this park, when I was an Ingénue I’d did my French homework as I laid in the grass. Now, this park is best known for men cruising, trying to get inside each other. But, it’s also where the gay rugby, volleyball, and football teams practice. And were bears go to sit on the assets. Pretty much the center of GLBT chillin out and having a great time.

Apparently there is a huge clan of gays that jog. Who knew? Well for the last couple of Sunday mornings I’ve decided to join these freaky creatures. You’ll now find me as part of the “running set” and when I say “running” I mean I’m the one staggering through the crosswalks like I'm staging an interpretive dance of Mein Kampf in a sweat soaked Dixie’s Tupperware party t-shirt.

I have noticed a couple of odd things during our private time in the park, me and the health queers. How completely healthy are you that you can run, talk on your Blackberry, and cruise me? Wow, good for you. How lazy are you that you can’t get out of your SUV to cruise me? Just drive up to the next cross walk and wait for me to come around. That’s really hot. Major points are awarded to the bear with the recorder (yes the kind you played in 3rd grade music appreciation class.) Who stands on the corner of 12th and serenades me as prance by like a gazelle. Mr. bear has lost a couple points for not wearing his fez lately.

So, that’s where I’ll be….dying of heat exhaustion, and getting healthy with the cool kids. But on the inside, you'll know that I'm pretending that I just held up a store to get some cash to my German boyfriend before he gets taken out or, something like that.

NARF

Ah, relationships! How amazing they are when they're going great. Always someone to talk too. You get to shag you best friend. Then there is the other times, like last night. I can't really explain what happened, so I hired two award winning actors to reenact the scene. Hopefully, these Thespians will tell the tale. Oh...I'm in the green apron. Enjoy.

WEEKEND WRAP UP

I watched Torchwood: Children of Earth over the weekend. If you haven't seen it I wont reveal anything BUT, I couldn't help thinking that they took this plot from Chiti Chiti Bang Bang. Rounding up kids, hiding them in sheds. I’m just saying.

Fuzzy, the other half is producing/conducting some type of opera caged fight in a couple of months. This meant that all weekend was Pucci and Umberto Giordano non-stop at the ranch. Aria after aria. Upon completing my two-hour sun baked drive home I could hear his friends belting out the Flower Duet from down the block. This is fine, it classes up the joint but, it just makes me think of the Blue Diva from the Fifth Element. In case you're ever asked the Blue Diva's Aria was by Umberto Giordano. Not that you're ever going to be asked. I just like this blog to be didactic.

Multipass

Sorry, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Two hour drive home. On Friday I decided to take the top off the Jeep. Feel the sun on my face as I drive home. My commute takes me from the one end of the Denver Multiplex to the other. It’s always cool, I get to chill out and listen to all my favorite tunes and pod casts. Friday was going to be the same, until I-25 turned into a parking lot. A lot of Madonna albums later I got home, with a new great tan line, since I was shirtless I’m sporting a seat belt tan line across my chest.

The gang met for coffee Sunday. This is where Jerrod and Mike gave me the “quote of the week.” They went to the Eagle on Saturday night which apparently had some wild strippers dancing on the bar.

“The strippers were out of control, strippers need boundaries.”

True, strippers need boundaries. Lest they turn feral. I’ll let you ponder that nugget of wisdom.

MISS ELLIE HATES ME

You’ll be glad to hear that I sent a friend request to Ellie Ewing on Facebook.


I've been waiting days for a response, yet haven’t received confirmation of our friendship. I’m beginning to think that maybe she doesn’t want me as a friend, sad but true. Just the thought of this makes me want to toss my muscular body onto my bed and sob into my pillow.



Now, this isn’t a fan site for Dallas the TV show or a Barbara Bel Geddes group. This is actually Miss Ellie Ewing. On Facebook. Huh, I thought. As you well know, the fictional Miss Ellie left South Fork to travel the world with Clayton years ago. This is why I found it odd that she popped up on Facebook. I’ll keep you updated. Sue Ellen Ewing hasn’t responded to my friend request either, but I understand. She drinks. Maybe she’ll see that I belong to the JR’s bar in Denver and Dallas Facebook groups. Because you know, she drinks.



Don't you just love that she's reading War and Peace in the above photo?

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Are you friends with J.D. Hoodie on Facebook? You Oughta Be! He’s just the coolest hooded, sweat shirt you’ll ever be friends with…… Uh….Um…..

See….He’s a hoodie that’s traveling the world. You can follow he’s travels, and even chat with him. If you’d like you can sign up to host him. Show him your town and take pictures of the two of you on adventures.

Ooooooh fun hu!?

He’s Down under now hanging out with the Mutant. Check him out.

THE QUEEN OF BLOOD

I normally would not do a movie review. Unless it’s just best damn movie ever made…

The Queen of Blood


Not only is it easy to say that this is Dennis Hopper’s best film. it’s also the best damn space ship, green woman who’s a vampire/insect/spider movie you'll see this season.

This epic love story was made in 1966 with every piece of scenery and movie prop that MGM had left over from the ‘40s and ‘50s. Including the torpedo chest, red velvet jump suit our green skinned vamp strips out of to seduce men. Then suck them dry.

God, I love science. I will never eat green Jell-O again.

HELLO MCFLY

*Nerd Alert*
Here’s a first glimpse at the 11th Doctor for the 2010 series of Doctor Who. This is thanks to the Gallifreyan Embassy*

You wont be the first to think that it's George McFly….or is it just me? Maybe the next season will find the Dr. having to go back in time to save his parents at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance.



* Isn’t it great to have someone like me to translate from Nerd to English?

OBSESSED WITH SCOTT FROM OBSESSED

Okay, I’m obsessed with Obsessed. The new show on A&E. Well in full disclosure I’m really just obsessed with Scott on the first episode, but I do like the entire show, really. No, really.


In the first episode you meet Scott, who is an incredible hunky germaphobe. Who’s house is incredibly…..well sadly I kind of like the pure white cleanliness. But, okay he’s out of control; whatever.



Now, halfway through the episode we meet his horrible, supportive boyfriend. You’ll recognize if you watch any hot, muscled gay porn or picked up a Colt calender lately. God, we hate him. With his perfectly tanned and chiseled good looks. Who does he think he is? When he’s not at the gym, he should be at home spending time with my Scott instead of volunteering at Palm Spring’s Children’s Hospital reading to dying kids. He really is no good for my Scott. Where does he get off?

Sorry….got a little carried away. What was I talking about….

Oh, so yeah. A&E never made having OCD look so hot. Take a look at the schedule, here. All the episodes have compelling and intriguing stories. Check it out sometime.

TURN UP THE OVERTONER

Saturday morning I woke up (well it was around one in the afternoon but, you get my drift) singing Donna Summer's Dim All The Lights.

"Turn on the Overtoner, gonna dance the night away!"


Halfway from walking the Shar-pei to the the coffeemaker I thought "Uh,Overtoner?" For thirty-seven years I’ve just assumed that an Overtoner was a device used in the recording or the playing of disco music. Like some sort of equipment that Studio 54 had pioneered to play back the quick beats and bass in disco and dance music. This Overtoner would sit next to the DJ and was wired into the amplifier and mixing board.

When I was a mere tiny queerling I would lay on the sculptured shag carpet in front of our huge console radio, I’d listen to Donna Summer coming from my sisters 8-track. I’d think of all the music drifting onto the dance floor. Imagining me in the middle dressed up in only the finest polyesters. That incredible voice being made even better with the aid of the humming Overtoner.

So, Saturday morning I find that there is no such thing, this incredible disco making device. In case you ever get asked it’s “Turn up the old Victrola, gonna dance the night away.” Not that you’ll ever be asked.

But, I’ve learned something, if you’re ever wrong about something like this. Don’t get embarrassed and wonder how if you’ve got this wrong, maybe everything else you’ve ever learned is wrong. Do the American thing, the thing that I plan on doing later today. Just Go to Wikipedia and make a totally fake entry. I do plan on giving Donna Summer credit for the Overtoner’s popularity in gay dance clubs.

STEVE'S HEAD IS ON VACATION

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I think I have egg on my face.....

Well, if you’re reading this, thanks for the nice, relaxing week. It was fun. Thanks for letting my brain rest. I just needed a week to focus on friendship and how I fit into the damn world.

Do you think that the white font on a white background fooled anyone? I know that feeds like connexions and other host sites printed it normally, so who knows. Maybe it’s just you and I reading this, that’s kind of cool? Do me a favor, leave a comment saying something unrelated to my blog, like “Yes Steve, shave your chest hair!” Just so I know, “who’s in.”

Then we can do other cool stuff down the road. Thanks again bud. And yes, my head is back together. See you on Monday!

STEVE'S HEAD IS ON VACATION

More of the epic egg drama (an on-going project by Nocturnal Moth from Norway, see more here)




Tonight is my first rugby practice. I’m hoping to get a spot on Denver’s first gay rugby team.

Man, why am I so frickin scared? Maybe it’s because I’ve never done team sports in my life. But ya know what’s the worst that could happen? I mean, besides not being able to catch anything flying at my face. The last time I was at a glory hole, I got a poke in the eye.

STEVE'S HEAD IS ON VACATION

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Well, if you’re reading this you’ve cracked the secret code to the magical and wonderful world of Stevie B’s blog. Okay, sorry that was dumb. But, I just wanted to take this time to say thanks for reading my blog. Blogs are like assholes; everyone got one.So thanks for reading.

I haven’t thought of anything to blog about this week. this is due to my head feeling like scrambled eggs. Hence the egg montage. I’m having one of those weeks where I can’t do a damn thing right. My thoughts are like barbed wire rusty, sharp, and you'll get tetanus if you touch them. This is just stemming from the typical type of "am I a good friend, do I support the people I love" blah, blah, blah stuff. Then throw in a “am I getting old?” crap. Just crap.

I was told again last week that I exhaust people. I come on so strong and talk so consistently about garbage that people have to save themselves from me. Why do I listen to these people? But on the other hand, I’ve been told that I’m emotionally distant. How can those pieces fit together? Don’t know.

Anyway, thanks for reading my blog. Thanks for taking the time out of your busy day to check in with my badly written part of the world. Since we both know I have the grammar finesse of Helen Keller.

STEVE'S HEAD IS ON VACATION

Check out more....


Are you afraid of the dark? boy I am, the dark can be a scary place. Funny, it's not so scary when you have someone's hand to hold.
That way when they smack into something, you can laugh at them. then suddenly, the dark isn't so scary.

STEVE'S HEAD IS ON VACATION

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I’m trying to figure out a relationship in my head this week. So all the time I spend in traffic rolling over stuff to blog about is now devoted to Luke(not his real name.)

Luke and I reconnected via Facebook last week since the 90’s when we were gay vegetarian waiters. Don’t misconstrue, Fuzzy is and always will be my rock, this is different. I’ve found myself this last week trying to dissect Luke; figure out what makes him smile. It’s funny, when you step away from someone good in your life you realize how many bits you’ll miss by being emotionally distant.

Okay, sorry. Blah, blah, blah. Since my head is in the clouds I thought I’d give you a photo essay of how I’m feeling this week.

WHY THE HAPPINESS IS CRYING?

I don’t know about you but I’ve spent the week wandering around the house in my calvins singing the Mothra song…..

Here’s a version with subtitles to finally explain what the tiny pre-Harajuku, Harajuku Girls are saying.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ndzcZ-kqj4







Oh, and here's the dance remix.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jeAB1WsO8MU

POPPERS

I can’t remember if I’ve told you this one, so stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

Standing in Frank’s kitchen I got a call on my fancy new cell phone. It’s my Mom, the first thing she says is:

“Honey, do you like poppers?”

At this point your worlds collide, You start to think, did my Mom just ask me If I like Poppers? Is she pulling a Jeffrey on me?

“Uh, What?”
“Well when you come over I’ve got some new poppers in the fridge.”



Okay, so that’s where I keep my bottle of poppers so this just added to the little hamster that usually saunters like RuPaul on the wheel that is my brain to get thrown off on to the Saxony plush.













“Uh, What?”
“Well, they're cheddar or cream cheese. I know how much like cheesy poppers so I bought you some.”

Ah, my world isn’t colliding in on its self. It was just Cheesy Jalapeño Poppers. My VCR can’t get clean with cheese; but, my belly will get happy.

YOUR UFO IS DUMB

After several martinis on Saturday night, Fuzz had the great duty of driving me home. As I rambled on during the drive I came to a point of clarity that I’d like to share.

UFOs are really dumb.

There are tens of thousands of people who spend every night looking to the skies. These folks spend a huge amount of time and money seeking video and photographic proof of the existence of extraterrestrial forms of life. But, have noticed every video of UFOS; as soon as the camera locks on the ship it zips away? Like they’re saying “damn it the guy wearing the Area 52 T-shirt just spotted us! Floor it Mable!”

If UFOs were smart, they would just attach a red and blue flashing light to each side of their space cruiser. That way, nerd boy would be all like “Is that a UFO? No…just an airplane. Damn where have all the spacemen gone?”

That is just a pittance of the great advice I have to give out; after martinis.

WOOF

So how was the fourth? Last Friday we ventured up into the Colorado Rockies. Which meant we ate funnel cake in a tourist town called Manitou Springs; filled with Texans. Who knew Texans loved Southern Colorado so much? Walking the streets in this Victorian vacation destination, I saw several T-shirts for Stratford High, my high school down in Houston, Texas. Talk about a flashback.

Late in the afternoon we found ourselves in a “pet boutique” just crammed full of Texan Christian Compassionate Conservatives. This is where I found my new book, Woof!: A Gay Man's Guide to Dogs!







As I held it up with a shout of glee, Fuzz answered back “I’ll be right there, I’m getting a hat for Harley…..Do you think he’ll like the camo cowboy hat or the pony print?”













So… we’re done with Manitou Springs. But the dog does have a great new cowboy hat.

BED HOG/DOG

I get out of bed for a second, this is what I return too:

THE 4TH OF JULY

The 4Th of July! That’s when Americans think that everyone around the globe stops to celebrate the amazement that is America.

Here’s a Cake Wreck cake to celebrate:




If you need me this weekend I’ll be at home in air-conditioned splendor. Willis Carrier invented air conditioning, he was American. So, in a way I’m just like all though denim jean short wearing people standing in line to pay fifty smackers for fireworks. Just cooler..… in every sense of the word.
So unfurl your American flags you got at Wal-mart and made in China. Let’s celebrate.

I’m thinking my extended weekend should include a Karl Malden movie marathon. Just as an excuse to watch On The Waterfront and A Streetcar Named Desire again.

So go! Get out there and have some fun this weekend. Don’t worry about me I got Willis Carrier and Karl Malden as my Homies to keep me company. But if you do decide to go get fireworks; could you pick me up some snakes? I love those.



Sorry for making fun of your denim jean-shorts.

Getting the house clean

I thought I'd take a couple seconds to take a pic whilst I cleaned up before the big weekend.

Uploaded by www.cellspin.net

FACEBOOK

Okay so, way to go Facebook. I know right, Facebook. Go figure. In the last week I’ve reconnected with my super-hunky friend Nick, which then got me reconnected to super cute friend Susie.

I always thought the only good use for the site was when you’re feeling down; the best way pick yourself up is to find the Facebook group for your high school. Then go down the list of all the people you graduated with. You soon realize that they’ve ballooned up and each has four kids. And there you sit, with the same high school waist size and all that disposable income.

Gets me cheered up every time.

But wait; now there seems to be a better use then giggling at the guys that once laughed at your flock of seagulls hair cut. Reconnecting with hot guys and ex-coworkers who thought you were dead.

During the “college days” I worked as a waiter at a vegetarian restaurant. I was a really bad waiter. To this day I have a recurring dream that I’ve forgotten a table in station six. I wake up with shivers. Then I start to think what happen to the only people who could feel this pain. Kind of like A Deer Hunter, but without jungle rot. Now I know, and next time at three in the morning when I wake up screaming “Spice tea!” I can put an update status on Facebook and somewhere, someone will get me.

NAMASTE

As you know I’ve started doing yoga. Yes, Namaste Bitches. And I find that I'm completely all zen about it. It’s quickly turning into the highlight of my week. But, I am however finding out that I’m like a bull in a china shop. How come the only people that do yoga are 5’2” and wear T-shirts with Chinese characters on them that probably say Beef with broccoli? So it’s me, my buddy Tom and a room full of fit, healthy 19 year olds. None of them sweat…at all…ever. Me, I’m causing a new humid weather pattern to form in the back of the studio. I’m fine really.

Last week, I nearly fell over during “balance work” and three girls on my left screamed and pointed in unison, “Aaaaaaaaah RUN! He’s attacking!” Hence my new Godzilla banner.