THANK YOU

Now that the tree has been taken down and all the red and green totes are stored, I have a bit of time before the New Years Eve parties begin to stop and tell you something.

Thank you for making this year great.

No really, I don't know how I'd decompress if it wasn't for my blogging. You return time and time again to check in with what crazy goo is coming out of my head and on to my page. So, with out getting all sappy, thank you. I'd totally give you one of those bro hugs right now.

I hope 2011 is great to you, if not let me know I'll kick it's ass just for you. But, I'm sure it will. I'll iron my "best shirt" and head out to the New Years Eve parties with complete optimism. Optimism because we're here, we're queer and we're used to it.

So enjoy your parties, you deserve it.




- Posted via my iPhone whilst being an enigma.

TOP GEAR (ISH)

I use the iPhone app, Scruff* as a way to kill time. I just wander around looking at profiles until I find a hot guy to stare at or maybe a witty profile detail, I especially appreciate well written personal descriptions. Good for you Mr. Man for taking the time to put something creative in your little ABOUT ME box.

I started to update my little “What I’m Into” box on Scruff last night while waiting for the sausages that Fuzzy was pawning off as dinner to be done broiled. I quickly realized that it was turning into a rampage on how I hate the US version of Top Gear.

Top Gear is probably my favorite show on the idiot box. The UK version. See, I now have to say “UK version” because there is now a US version of the show. Which I hate. The show and having to say that it’s the UK version I like.

The reason I watch this car show is because it’s not like the Dude, typical straight bubba shows on the TV network known as Spike. I’m really into cars, not looking a boob jobs being scraped across the hood of cars. UK Top Gear? No boobs. Just witty boobs talking about cars, and cute James May. Then suddenly my DVR decided I needed to watch the US Top Gear, Oooo more cool car shows!?

No. It’s like the History Channel decided to take the lobby of the Smithsonian and put a Hooters in it. You can still see the lunar rover and the Wright Brothers’ plane, just with BBQ sauce on your hands. The wit is gone and replaced with dumb-downed dude jokes. Really? Can the hosts put on a clean shirt? No.

So, I guess I won’t be updating my Scruff profile. Unless I really want every gay guy that’s not seen Christine Aguilera in concert* to know what I crazy person I really am. Which you already knew.









*Grindr = Has seen Christine Aguilera in concert
Scruff = Has not seen Christine Aguilera in concert

CHRISTMAS RECAP

Let’s do the annual Christmas prezzies to Steve review. As with every year the gifts to Steve were great, Pumas, T-shirts, robots, Dr. Who stuff, and my new favorite obsession, American Eagle flannel shirts.

Even the Chinese gift exchange went smoothly with our group, not a black eye in the house. This may set precedence in a new calm gifting on Christmas morn. I brought flame less candles and ended up with a quesadilla maker. First thinking, “what the hell am I going to do with a quesadilla maker?” Soon to find that it makes one amazing and health dinner.

The winner in the cool present category goes to these guys……

Blue and yellow on the far left and the solid blue in the middle have joined their brethren. Don’t they look happy? How did he know I liked Pumas?



From the Homosexual, lifetime companion partner’s Mom I got a Gap gift card. No. I got a Baby Gap gift card.

Was she trying to tell me something?

CHRISTMAS MORN...

Christmas miracles still happen, like finding out that your homosexual lifetime companion partner knows how to play the accordion.


Enough said...

Midnight mulled wine

It's almost time for midnight breakfast and midnight mulled wine.

Every year at our house we stay up to watch TV, eat an extravagant breakfast, and drink an entire pot of mulled wine. I can't say why we do this.... We just do.

Burp. Merry Christmas.

Why does this guy look confused?

Maybe because I'm heading to the gym on Christmas eve wearing just a T-shirt. I guess it's going to be a brown Christmas.




Where is my snow?


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

CHRISTMAS EVIE

It's time for our annual message from Evie Harris.



Merry Christmas, Mary.



TONIGHT WE BAKE

I have been severely under cookied this holiday season. Tonight. We bake. Dalton sent me this photo from his own baking happy time in Brooklyn….

Chocolate Crinkle Cookies, Half brownie half chocolate cookie and half powdered sugar.* So I immediately got the recipe and tonight I finally have time to bake them. Since I have the cognitive ability of an under-sized orangutan, I need any directions to be easy with a lot of pictures; this is why I only eat in restaurants with pictures on the menu. This recipe looks very easy to follow, even for me.

You can find it here.

On the other side of the culinary spectrum, I have planned the menu for the Christmas Midnight Breakfast. This is when Fuzzy gets home at midnight Xmas eve and we sit down for a huge breakfast before laying down for three hours before getting up to start the Christmas happy time. This year on the menu will be chicken fried steak with sausage gravy, ham steak, and scrambled eggs. With some sort of biscuit yumminess. All of this food will be snarfed down in three seconds even though I will of just have eaten at Frank and Kevin’s house hours before for Xmas eve dinner and just hours before eating again at Carl and Will’s house for Christmas day. This 48 hour time frame will NOT be recorded into my diet plan.

So, try the chocolate crinkle cookies. I'll let you know how mine turns out.

 
*Yes, three halves. I know.

YULE AGREE

I hope that your fertility sacrifice to Odin yields you a fertile and peaceful season. Enjoy your winter solstice; I’m just glad the days will start getting longer.


Did you see the eclipse last night? I hope yule agree it was amazing.

SWEET DREAMS

Have you ever gone mattress shopping with a partner? This year Fuzzy and I decided that part of our Christmas present-fest would include a new bed. Our mattress now resembles the Appalachian mountain range, and we haven’t had a good night sleep since the last time we stayed in a hotel which helped us realize how bad our mattress really was.

Uh, kinda...

Going into a mattress store with your Homosexual, lifetime companion partner really brings your bedroom out in front of commissioned sales associates. Which is always fun, especially when your partner keeps saying stuff like “spoon me to make sure it feels right” or “is the side firm enough to support your knees?” Oddly, we received no difference in service then the boring opposite-sex shoppers. Not an eyebrow was raised.

Since Fuzzy is at 190, I’m 220 and the dog somehow is comprised of dark matter we really needed a bed that would hold up under the pressure and not move during one of my sleep terror nights plus the dogs constant rotating like a furry gyros roaster. The sales dude, Kurt was very helpful in getting a Beautyrest that would help up sleep through the night.

So, sleep tight.

NICE TO SEE STEVIEB WITH BIG HAIR

I stumbled upon some old photos the other day. The joys of working at home, you get bored, look around the home office and start to dig through boxes. So, I thought I’d share them with you.... 

This was the summer of ’89 on Capitol Hill in Denver.  I think I weighed 110lbs here, since I now weigh 220lbs I can say that I’m twice the man I once was.

This is my very first apartment in ’88 and my very first boyfriend. Now he owns a Graceland/Elvis themed solon in NY and does Madonna’s hair when she’s in town. God how I loved that shirt.

This is my really great hair photo from ‘92. If I had the frickin energy I so would grow out my hair like that again. But, oy vey gevalt the mousse I’d go through.  Does J. Crew still sell shirts?

GYM UPDATE

The Big Gay Gym has been closed for renovations for the last month. The 24hour frequented by the Homo class was woefully under appointed and kind of nasty. The space for the free weights was always overcrowded and the locker room…. A girl could lose her dignity.

Even me, the gay ghetto gay stopped going because I may like to cruise your ass, but I sure don’t want to wait for it to get off the flat bench. I moved over to the 24hour near the college to work out with the DU college dudes. The dudes are quiet, put the plates back where they belong and never sit and chat on the benches. I’ve never had to wait for anything. Until the renovation started on the BGG.

A couple of weeks past, I sauntered into the dudes gym on chest day and found the gentleman I loving referred to as Forest Gump relaxing on a bench, the only thing he was missing was a box of chocolates. “How the hell did he find this gym?” I asked myself. Well, that’s when I discovered that the BGG was under renovations and everyone that frequented the BGG was now heading to my quiet location.

Drat. Weeks of three times the normal people at the gym. Making the decline crunch bench smell like Fahrenheit. Well, this tyranny of fabulousness ends tomorrow. The Mo gym reopens, with its new updated look. All the bench warmers and elliptical sluts can just go back to their fancy gym…… Yeah. I’ll go check it out. What? There’s amazing cruising in the locker room.

ON THE MOVE

In the last two years I’ve had five offices in my company’s headquarters. Some of the moves had to do with logistics, some where plainly due to high ups getting laid off and having the opportunity to move into a better space.

Yesterday I moved again, but this was because of my big mouth. Well, really because my office was next to the office manager and I guess he got tired of listening to me laughing on speaker phone. Oh well, me and the “action figures” moved to another part of the building. Isn’t it odd how your little Habitrail gets firm in your mind, then when the plastic tubes change it’s like you’re walking around a strange city? I spent most of today flailing my arms around saying “This does not compute” When I started to walk towards my old hallway, much to no one’s amusement.

 

I do, however get a nicer view…..

GUYS WHO FOLD ARMS WHILST GUARDING CHRISTMAS TREES

It’s that time of year again. Time to follow the Facebook group, Guys Who Fold Arms Whilst Guarding Christmas Trees. Funny how I’ve waited all year for new pictures of manly Brits guarding their respective Christmas trees with arms folded.

So if you’re a guy, and you have a tree to keep secure, and then check out this FB group by the super smoking hot ginger, Glenn Jones.

EVERYONE GOES HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

It's the time of year when you start to dread heading home for Christmas. The relatives gathered around in man-made fabrics, talking about the changes on American Idol. Awesome.   But, it’s nice to know that you’re not alone in your annual trip to boredom land at the end of a cul-de-sac.







Skaro? Isn't that near Mykonos?

LYCRA CLAD

Have you ever acquired something thinking it was just the coolest thing ever, just to be proven very wrong?


Yesterday was a work from home day for me. I’m finding this weird because I end up getting more done in my sweatpants and un-showered then any day at the office in a polo shirt. Maybe it’s because I want to prove to the world and the boss that I’m viable at home or it’s a good motivator to have a dog staring you down every second. Who knows, even after Skyping my bud in Brighton, UK and bouncing around Facebook I finished a major report. Yeah, all in my PJs.

Cloistered away in Southfork and after going for a long run, when Frank called and asked if I wanted to go to Costco I jumped at talking to someone other than a Shar-pei. This is where I saw the jacket I bought last month. A cool design of Polar fleece and Lycra, perfect for running and matches my running pants. Which I can no longer wear in front of my supportive friends as I’ve heard enough Steve’s wearing spandex jokes for a lifetime.

As we made our way through the free buffet that is Costco, I reached for a tiny specimen cup filled with meatballs just to be met with my cool coat on Santa Claus. Probably not the Santa, it just looked like him. Huh, Santa wears my cool running gear. Well, there goes that.

So if you need me, I’ll be running in the park wearing Santa’s running jacket. In spandex.

THE REASON FOR THE CHEESE-ON

This time of year it's mandatory to sit and listen to the story of our Lord and Savior’s birth, “The reason for the season” over and over again. I equate it to listening to co-workers talking about football. I know it’s important to a lot of people, they devote every Sunday to worshiping what they perceive to be the “best team” and trash talk the other leagues, but in the end how does blowing millions building stadiums and dancing around in satin jerseys improve my net worth?

That being said, go team! Blah, blah, blah. But,in my head I just replaced foam cheese head hats with foam baby Jesusiesss.

 

 

I’ve stumbled upon the Greatest Story Ever told but, in a way that even I understand…. Why wouldn't there be Dinosaurs and Daleks at our Lord and Saviors birth? they're good Christians too.

THE ANNUAL CHRISTMAS RANT

Ahh, December. It’s time to gather around and listen to Uncle Steve’s annual Christmas rant…..


WHAT THE FUCK DO PENGUINS HAVE TO DO WITH CHRISTMAS!?!?

Have you seen the inflatable, glowing Christmas crap that everyone displays on their front lawns? Big billowing snowmen, elves, and insidiously happy penguins.

SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK DO PENGUINS HAVE TO DO WITH CHRISTMAS!?

At night it’s quite a cute little scene. A winter wonderland all blown up and bopping around to the forced air whooshing up their butts. But, during the day it’s another story. Driving through any upscale neighborhood it's a reenactment of Jim Jones goes to Christmas town. Dead, flat elves and snow people scatter the lawns like a mass suicide cult hit the North Pole. A massacre of merriment. One half-inflated penguin dragging its self off the lawn coughing out

“Don’t drink the Kristmas Kool-aide……..and I only live in Antarctica and parts of South America why am I even here?! Aaaaaaaaaghh!”

I feel bad for their ignorant cult joining asses as I drive by.

SORORITY GIRLS FROM HELL '10

As we sat around this holiday weekend the friends talked about the usual girl talk. Eventually the subject turned to how we spent our twenties. Or, wasted our twenties. Most of us stood around bars and tried to get laid. I spent most of this time at “Surf City” a beach themed bar with surf boards and fake nets everywhere. If I wasn’t there I was burning up the dance floor at The Metro. You’d find me wearing Guess jeans with a braided belt and sporting an over sized dress shirt, with a Structure tie. Now I know, I resembled a Cracker Barrel waiter, but then I was smooth and cool.
Standing around The Metro in my over sized braided belt hanging down my left thigh I would suck down Zimas and stare blankly at the video wall. Waiting for Sorority Girls From Hell to play. This video phenomenon was shared with most everyone sitting around the Thanksgiving table.

I thought I’d share it again with you. Just imagine you’re wearing a Chess King jacket.

STEVIEB WANTS A HUGE LOAD



Cheesemen Park in the snow



Ah, the air of December. It seems we have a mild December starting in Denver, My fair city. Which, equates into a very brown December without snow to cover the lawns and houses with a blanket of cuteness. The lack of snow is not shared with other areas of listening audience, buds in the UK are Facebooking their pictures of the snow, and I guess the east coast has pockets of winter-wonderland. Not me… nope the guy who lives for huge loads…… of snow. But, the hot weather guy on channel 9 says I should get my December snow storm this weekend.

Wait…. Am I blogging about the weather?

Have I mentioned that December is my favorite month? Most likely due to all the plans and activities planned for the weeks before Christmas. I do love a plan. There’s tree trimming, cookie baking, freezing to death as we watch the cities Christmas parade, the frozen death march around the city zoo, and this weekend is the annual soup party and holiday music concert. Every year the BFF Carl hosts a soup and kibitz affair. The ugly sweaters are optional…. for everyone but me.

I guess this weekend is the official StevieB kick off to the elf like glee that is my Christmas. Now where is that tiny down coat for the dog?

WORLD AIDS DAY

http://www.breaktheillusion.com/