FALL

Sunday was spent in the park; about fifteen guys grillin and chillin (I can’t believe I just wrote “grillin and chillin” please forgive me.) Anywho, it was pretty damn fun. Sitting out under the trees and watching a group of manly fags try to use a BBQ grill. There really is no telling how many times the “three second rule” was enacted.

Late in the afternoon I was relaxing by watching the gay rugby guys run gay rugby drills after countless Spendaritas.* I’d call it drunken rugby, but that’s probably an oxymoron. As I watched I noticed something odd, kind of off in the distance…then closer. Something falling from the trees. Leaves….falling from the trees. Like fall. Holy f’in crap, the trees are starting to lose their leaves? What the hell happened to summer and all my plans?

Well, I guess it’s time. This morning without thinking I grabbed a sweatshirt to put on for the early commute to work. Which I spilled coffee on at the Kum and Go. See, normally I would spill Diet Coke on my T-shirt. Which really means the seasons are a changing.

*Splendarita. All the happy, happy joy of a Margarita but none of the sugar.

DOOR TO DOOR STEVIEB

Boy, someone got the wrong house. Although I knew we would have to figure out who the lady of the house was eventually.



There is a no solicitation law in our neighborhood. Yet we get crap like this attached to our well appointed front door all the time. Maybe it’s because we have the only lawn that’s maintained and not strewn with children’s accessories. They see the house and think Wow, they must be newlyweds. The Little Lady would love some Avon.

What caught my eye was the “A Church For You” quote. I’m pretty sure that if I show up on their doorstep with this flyer and explain that my partner and I are butt pounding, lifetime fur loving, partner commitment companions that they may rethink if their church really is for us. Just saying.

So my butt pounding, lifetime fur loving, partner commitment companion and I have done everything to these door-to-door apostatizers and hockers of bad cosmetics.

“Honey, come here! You’ve got to see this, It’s little Mormon guys! I was a missionary when I was your age. Then I realized how much hypocrisy and hate the church spreads, soon I came to my senses and came out of the closet. Now I’ve never been happier.....I now have nineteen inch arms! See!”

Okay…. I didn’t say the arms thing….but I was in just my underwear when I spoke to them. Completely done up in Avon cosmetics. I guess we’ve answered the lady of the house question.

Please StevieB's good friends

I found this license plate in a garage t'other day.


Yes, I will go. Could you stop bugging me about it. Girl.



Check out a site I stumbled upon Translation Party It takes your phrases and translates them back and forth from English and Japanese just to have hilarity ensue. Nice to see Stevie B. was translated into: Please StevieB's good friends.

Then I tried the phrase: I had nothing to blog about today, so I just posted a link to a fun website. which gave me:

Today, please do not use a link to my site happy blogging.

Pretty cool hu? But, kinda counterproductive.






So is Mr. Happy, happy? Yes, thanks for asking, Mr. Happy is happy and will now go.Girl.

A cliché within a cliché

I finally got to see the 1935 film version of Les Miserables. After this story turning into a cliché of its self, it was nice to see the 1935 clean, pure vision of the story. Although my favorite summary of Les Mis is from the 1995 movie Jeffrey:

"I’m too "happy" for Les Mis. I never did get that show. It's about a guy, who
steals a loaf of bread, and then suffers for the rest of his life. For toast!
Get over it.”

In last couple of scenes Fredric March, playing Jean Valjean cannot get through the barricades, so must carry Marius down into the Paris Sewers. He struggles to carry the critically wounded man whilst being pursued by Inspector Javert. As the music and the filthy waters swell, Fuzz lifts his head from the Macbook he’d been clicking away on and says, “Oh….this is Phantom?”

So, if anyone asks we watched Phantom Of The Opera last night.

THE TAO OF STEVE

Fuzzy and I pulled up in front of a premier 4X4 and off-road accessory store. As we started to get out to look at wheels for his truck and anything expensive and shiny I can bolt onto the Wrangler I turned and sarcastically said:

“…and try to butch it up a little.”

“Yes” Fuzz said with an eye brow raised. “Two guys, perfect haircuts and brand new Pumas. They think we’re huntin buddies….Well we are huntin buddies.”

Shouldn’t we just be a happy well adjusted couple that pounds butt? Just to help be a positive role model to help expand the 4X4 accessory markets perception of their target demographic? Like a sales market coordinator will be in a meeting, saying that yes, yet another scantily clad big boobed model would be great on their new add campaign, but there was the time when the butch gays bought our 4” lift kit. Maybe are customer would like seeing something less obvious.

“Like be the gay you want to see in the world.”

Fuzzy rolled his eyes. “What’s this now The Tao of Steve?” Let’s go drool over my 22” shiny chrome wheels and we’ll just exhibit an air of our natural homomasculinity.”

“Now who’s talking in clichés?” But he was right, because as soon as we saw the new chrome on black 22” wheels, first he screamed in delight like a little girl. Then, proceeded to hump the tires like a wolf in heat.

WEEKEND WRAP UP

Can I just tell you how much easier my life is now that I’ve started referencing the website Cooper Guns. Whenever my routine at the gym gets a little boring I can just click on this link and find four new sets to work what ever I need to get done.

Although I’m finding it more important when someone asks “Hey, what’s that? What does that work?” Now instead of just saying “Hummm shoulders?” I can say “Dude. It’s the Cross Over Front Raise to totally blast your Delts.” By that point they’re so amazed that I can then talk them into sniffing my jock. But, that’s a different story. Thank you online bodybuilding encyclopedia!

Outside of the gym, we had a frickin busy weekend, to many different social engagements. Everyone waiting until the weekend we hit one hundred degrees to throw their back yard BBQ’s. Sunday was Carl’s birthday extravaganza. He did choose a nice air-conditioned brunch in Blackhawk’s Ameristar Casino. Smart guy. We then parked Fuzzy at a Blackjack table and went to explore the town. Typical Fags, go to a mountain casino town and then leave the gambling to explore unusual turn of the century Opera houses and museums. Jerrod took, about six thousand pictures. I’ll post a link.

When Fuzzy finally came back from the tables to find my stuffing my face full of Buffalo Wings he had a pocket full of $100 chips, so not to shabby.

NICE TO SEE STEVIEB....IN PLAID?

Fuzzy and I started to watch Project Runway last night. At some point I turned to him and asked if we could go change the rear differential fluid in the Jeep. Not that it needs it, which it probably does; it was because after beginning to watch the season premiere I could feel every fiber in my body getting gayer and gayer.

This probably explains why I wore these shorts today:



I don’t think I’m ready for patterns. I thought Hu, they’re cargo shorts. So they’re not camo, maybe it’s time for an update to the old StevieB cargo short line up. Now I feel like I need a mani-pedi. So don’t mind me, I’m just gonna go find some dirt to roll in. Maybe head over to the gym and do some clean and jerks.

GOTTA LOVE TECHNOLOGY

A couple of years back I bought a Sony DVD camcorder. Loved it, took it everywhere. I have a whole stack of movies from all the big gay cruises and big gay road trips. You want see Steve knock over an entire bottle rum? I’ve got it on video.


I’ve been toying with starting a video web series, some stupid videofilms* to post on YouTube. I'll explain more when I get a handle on the whole idea, for now you can check out this. Just video it, edit out the swear words and post it to YouTube. No biggie right? Wrong, the expensive Sony cam doesn’t have firewire capability, nor does my Mac want to have anything to do with the files. Nope. iMovie won’t even entertain the thought. Y'all know how to convert a VOB file?




Here’s my solution. I've decided to heed President Obama's call to stop the recession by shopping. I’m going to go buy a cute little Flip video camara. It’s so damn cute and shiny! Anyone care for a Sony doorstop?



*Yes, I know that "videofilm" is incorrect. It just reminds me of Home Movies.

FAT CAMP

Tom and I were running sprints with the rest of Denver’s Gay Rugby team across Cheesman Park. This was awhile back but, I’ve been forgetting to blog about it, probably because I was suppressing it.

We’re hauling ass down the park as fast as we can to get to the grove of trees, at this point my lungs have filled with some sort of deadly fluid, and as I staggered to the tree line two homeless gay youth step out from doing the nasty. The one with the nasty burn on his lip exclaims loudly,

“What is this? A fat camp!”

Tom turns to start something, and I think yeah, don’t f%$k with Tom. Quickly I realize that Toms wanting to rumble with the teenage prostitutes would normally mean I’m his backup, but since my lungs had collapsed. He was on his own.

“Damn Tom *gasp* I’d say I got your *gasp* back but, I’m going to die now *gasp* so your own your *gasp* own.“

It’s a turning point in your life when gay- teenage- druggie prostitutes can call you fat, and there’s nothing you can do to stop them.

My life as it has been lived with dignity.

LATTER DAYS an overdue review

Yesterday was the first time I sat through Latter Days the 2003 movie. I’ve really tried in the past; I’d get into it then (not to spoil the plot) Aaron would get sent home and I’d have a meltdown.

I never came close in my upbringing to be outed and excommunicated from the Mormon Church but, the threat of stepping out of line was ingrained into me as a small child. For any reason, especially when your feelings go against the teachings pounded into you every day.

When I was little I never saw the middle of The Wizard of Oz, the flying monkey music would start and I’d jump behind the sofa. I’ve been doing the same thing with this movie, jumping behind the sofa. I flipped by it a couple of times when I saw it on the Logo channel, stopped, then decided it was time to exorcise the flying mormon monkeys. So, I just sat there clutching the dog and let it play. It sucked. Not the movie, that was great. The detaching up part sucked. But in the end I grew up a lot. I may have a new favorite gay themed movie. After Trick, of course.

STEVIEB'S FISH STORY

On Friday night Fuzzy, the other half wanted to treat me to a nice steak dinner. We went to one of those old style steak houses, the type that has the deep red carpeting and cattle themed wallpaper. They start off by bringing a silver tray of sliced radishes and other un-edible veggies sitting upon a bed of ice. Very fancy.

This particular restaurant decorated its dining room in 1989 and decided since cork walls and Boston ferns were decorating perfection there really was no place to go from there. Except for the fish tanks, dozens of fish tanks. That, or Fuzz had asked for the Tank Room. As we settled into our cheese and Broccoli soup I started to be distracted. Here, Fuzzy was taking about his week and all I could see is dozens of fish swimming around his head. Swimming and defecating. Who knew fish made evil so much. I didn’t, that’s for sure. Over the next two hours I realized that fish are creepy little buggers that swim in their own defecation. That and I’m never going into the ocean again.

As you know, I have a Calvin Klein underwear fetish. My entire adult life these were the only skivvies I’d wear. I’ve also have quite an attraction to them. That bit you get to see over jeans would send me off. Well, this was getting more and more difficult as my favorite style of Calvins stopped being carried at Macy’s. On Sunday, I found myself once again trying to get “attached” the new style of Calvins. I have one rule in life: Men should NEVER buy underwear on hangers! Just nicely lined up manly boxes. Hangers are what bras come on. Well, with the sexual tension and the “no hanger policy, I walked out with several new pairs of 2x ist brand underwear.What do think?


They are super comfortable, and maybe the first pair of underwear that actually has room for all my junk. I think it’s important to broaden your horizons. Included in my fetishes and shopping list was Pumas, which I also got:

Fuzz bought them for me, because when I went running on Sunday morning my old pair gave me blisters. Talk about one contented StevieB.

CALL OF DUTY

I’ve completed my “Duty to Serve” for the great state of Colorado. Meaning I didn’t get picked for Jury Duty. Most likely it was based upon the fact that it was a domestic dispute and I have very strong opinions about people that think they can raise their hands to their partner.

I started having diarrhea of the mouth… more than usual. I started spewing phrases like “In this misogynist culture we need laws in place to protect citizens that have limited options. “ What the f*&K was that? I was excused. I did get in touch with my inner fag whilst filling out the juror questionnaire. It was very detailed:

What kind of music do you like?
Mostly dance and house with a leaning towards strong trance beats.

What do you do in your free time?
Make web videos with friends, blog, yoga, rugby, and collect comic books.

What do you watch on TV?
The History channel, News, Anything on the Sci Fi or the BBC America channels.

I wanted to gay bash me. I quickly realized that if this was a questionnaire for a dating service, my VHS tape would be on the bottom of the stack. I wanted to scribble in there "But I have huge Bi's & Tri's! At least I could add that I don’t beat on my partners, maybe that would get me some.

JUROR NUMBER 2001

Guess who decided to go and get jury duty?
I guess I’ll see you on the other side.

I'll leave you with some "Stevie Quotes" or crap that's falling out of my pie-hole this week.

"You can hide, but I'll send Greyhounds to track you down."

"When I die I'm going to have whalers at my funeral." [Upon the odd looks at the table.] "I mean... Not (mocking a spear gun) Call me Ishmael whalers. Wailers like “boo-hoo why would God do such a thing wailers.”
Dalton - “I like the first one better.”

STEVIE MAIL!

This is a picture of my sofa:



Its full title is the Super-Swishy-Elle-shaped-Sofa-Of-Love. I share this with you not because I want to brag over its panda like softness or its amazing ability to make you fall asleep in a state of total tastefully appointed gayness. I show this to you as a way to explain that I finally added a contact E-mail to my blog.

Over the years in blogland I’ve received a lot of feedback. Having control over which comments were posted helped spam and the (I never use this word) haters. I would however get the occasional:

“Blocking my [hate filled, badly written] comments is against free speech!”
“Jackass, doesn’t post my thoughts on your gay sucking blog.”

I was always confused by this. As my strange tiny corner of the web never espoused to be like Fox News “Fair and Balanced” but, a reflection of my life as a devastatingly handsome* Thirty-seven year old gay guy. This is why I’m sharing with you a photo of my couch. We sit down for five minutes a day and you listen t the crap that’s rolling around in my head. And, I thank you for that.

I had decided that an E-mail address wasn’t needed as the comment section was good enough. Maybe I thought it was too Narcissistic……unlike posting a daily blog about nothing but yourself? But that ends today! An E-mail address is now included in my profile. It’s NiceToSeeStevieB@gmail.com this is where you can send your attorney’s copyright infringement letters or your notice of slander lawsuits, requests for 8X10 glossies, and to receive a price list for Ziploc bags of StevieB. used jocks. This means you, Anonymous guy who wants to mail me briefs to wear then mail back dirty. This is for you. And if you have any other questions or ideas you’d like to share now you can. Send me a picture of your sofa, we’ll have a sit.

No, really. Take a picture of your sofa and E-mail it to me. I'll do a photo essay.

HIV SQUARE

Every weekday I pass by a particular shopping center driving to and from work. And, for years I’ve referred to it as The HIV Square. No one ever questions me on this, probably because they’re frightened of the answer.


Last Saturday I had a chance to go to the square when I met up a group of friends for lunch at Pei Wei, a cute but over done Asian diner. This location had just opened in HIV Square so I was excited to meet up with good friends but also to snap some pictures of the cooperate art that stands on the corner of Colorado Blvd.and Buchtel Blvd. When you're driving down Colorado Blvd. you get to enjoy this:









Remind you of anything? Like this?

I’m sure that the post-apocalyptic modern artist was laughing all the way to the bank. But, if you're now thinking that I have no taste or respect to for HIV/AIDS concerns, you are completely correct. I'm sorry. It is not a laughing matter. Trust me on that one. I think they're supposed to be....dandelions. Evil, hell-bent dandelions. Dandelions that want your soul.

St. Steven's Day

August 10th is called "St Steven's Day", the "feast of Steven" of the muscle-gay day and is the Patron Saint for Bloggers, the Banana Republic men’s section, and home décor stores. It is a public holiday in many retail home stores that were historically full of snarky gym bunnies seeking high value, low cost bath and bedroom accessories.

Saint Steven (Koine Greek: Στέφανος, Stephanos), known as the Protomartyr of Christianity, is venerated as a saint of upscale malls and most local Bed, Bath, and Beyond stores. Steven means "toilet-cover" or "crown" in Greek. He was one of the first in the early Church to bear the title Archdeacon.

MARTYRDOM
Stephen was tried by a group of really mean bitches (who we hate anyway) for blasphemy against the ending the popularity of wearing cargo shorts (Acts 6:11) and speaking against the wearing of really huge sunglasses (Acts 6:13-14) (see also Antinomianism). He was flip-flopped to death (c. A.D. 34–35) by an infuriated gay mob encouraged by some nelly girl (who didn't look good in cargo shorts) after buying six pairs of plaid Express for Men golf shorts.

Steven's final speech was presented as accusing muscle heads of persecuting other muscled up gays who spoke out against their roids.

SOUNDWAVE

Six o’clock this morning and I’m trying to get some gas and a muffin for the commute to work. I’m not really awake. It’s really Zombie Steve staggering around the coffee bar at the gas station. Glamorous I know. As I drag my carcass towards the counter I do however notice that the cashier is checking out my package. I may be sleepy but I’m not dead. That’s when he said:
“That’s really hot.”
“Uh…thanks dude.” That’s when I realize his eyes are wandering all over my chest.
“Where’d you get that?”
“Uhm…….what”
“Your Soundwave t-shirt. That’s frickin cool. He’s the best!”



Funny how you can interpret body language I clearly thought that… well never mind. The soon to be trick turned soon to be creepy nerd continued for what seem for about ten minutes on how Soundwave might be the real leader of the Decepticons. He came short of comparing him to Joseph Goebbels. Only as a evil robot cassette player hell bent on destroying the world, I'm sure that's an insult. I came to the edge of using the ultimate getaway line….

“Would you excuse me? I cut my foot before and my shoe is filling up with blood.”

Thankfully I didn’t have too, the diatribe of comparing the Decepticons to the German high command ended quickly as he noticed I was slowly backing away from the counter. As I turned to leave I said “Shalom” and ran screaming into the early morning dew.

NICE TO SEE STEVIEB AT THE GYM

I’ve started going to a new gym. Still 24 hour fitness, just another location. Or, yet another location I should say. I currently push plates at the one up north, the one on Yale, the one on Hampton, the one on Alameda, the one on Lowry, and Uh…I think there’s another one somewhere. Now I’ve started liftn in the Meridian. Yes, I know you don’t know any of these Denver locations, that’s okay. Let’s just say they’re all over Denver.

I started this week at the Meridian gym because I was going to the creepy 24 hour fitness on Quebec in Highlands Ranch. Creepy, I felt like I was in the fitness facility at a retirement home. Although no one used the free weights But, they smelled like Ben-gay. The new gym is completely filled with CEOs from the glass towers around that area and Dudes from Parker, CO. Let’s just say it has the cultural diversity of Vidor, Texas. I was doing chest yesterday when I looked around a realized that all the Dudes where wearing the same thing. That sleeveless muscle shirt cut all the way down the side. It was dude clones. Like this, but not frickin nearly as cool as Nasty Pig. Just saying.




So, I guess I didn’t need to spend an hour watching them each mirror f#$k after every set then go around and punch each other saying "Dude I'm ripped!" but, you know. Research. I didn't think that guys said "ripped" anymore. Now I know.

RADIOACTIVE FUN

I had one of my reoccurring gas mask nightmares last night. Man, I hate those. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the drill Sargent of a Yoga instructor I had yesterday. No, nothing at all. Or maybe it’s my continuing fascination with a certain radioactive sarcophagus.



In 1986 I think I was at an impressible age when Chernobyl happened. Quickly I became obsessed with every aspect. Focusing in every detail I could find. Still to this day I can rattle off every fact about the plant before and after the disaster. Sadly I’m still obsessed about any new information that gets published. When I role around in my head “dream vacations” I think big gay cruise to a sunny beach or traveling to the Ukraine’s exclusion zone. Tough choice.

As I drifted off last night I started retelling the lasted reports of the further collapse of the Sarcophagus, the lead based containment layers that was so quickly built by the Soviets it’s pretty much structurally unsound. Fun hu? Just the random crap that rolls around in my head.

I’ve come to one conclusion this morning as I drove into work. I’m pretty sure I need a vacation. And, I’m thinking that another gay cruise may be the best bet. Because, when I'm dreaming about gas masks it should be something from Instigator Magazine, not nuclear winter.

451 AND MIDGET FUN

Did you hear that they're releasing a Fahrenheit 451 graphic novel? Thanks nerdy NPR! Take a look, it F'in rocks. But of course you know that it's based on the 1953 novel by Ray Bradbury. Which was made into a “must have in your movie library” movie in 1966.

Granted this movie didn’t have a thirty-year old midget prostitute who has spent most of her life posing as a little girl, that wears Victorian clothing for no apparent reason. And has now added to my lifelong fear of Selene Luna. But you can't have everything.

Now if you’re about to comment that I spoiled a movie for you, I'm sorry. But, I just save you two hours a thinking

"Wow I need to be nicer to midget hookers.”

Because someday the little nippers could turn on you. And midget prostitutes will frickin haunt you from the grave. If not you then some nice rich white waspy family. And we all don't want that to happen. I'm here to help you.

Go buy Fahrenheit 451 the movie on Amazon.

Or the graphic novel.....

PORK CHOP JENGA

You be glad to know that I’m now friends with Miss Ellie Ewing on Facebook. A sigh of relief, I’m sure. My next step is to weasel my way into her life at Southfork to get invited to the next Ewing BBQ. Back in the day, on the….what was it called? Fake-titted-stripper named Amber space? Or My Space? All my friends were gay porn stars. Now my coolest friend is a fictional character from the 80’s TV show Dallas. I’ve grown as an individual.

Saturday we went to Union, a restaurant in Castle Rock, Colorado. It was one of those high end restaurants in a small mountain town. American Bistro yet trying too hard. They practiced the vertical stacking type of food presentation. I had the Pork Chop Jenga. So I spent ten minutes trying to figure out what to eat and still win the game.

“If I move the apple chutney infused olive oil grilled Virginia ham spinnettes, then the blanched pear and pesto artichokes may fall. Damn! If I eat one more bite of the nine-cheese and date blackened potato and salmon crocates with mango foam then the whole tower will topple over.”

This went on for about two hours and four glasses of wine.


Sunday was a great morning run in Cheesman Park. I found that the best album to run to is Jody Watley’s The Makeover. It’s completely energizing and, it's fun to run too with spirit fingers.