Thursday, March 31, 2011


Although I would probably never end anything I’m facing some troubling aspects to my relationship. I guess I’d change my Facebook status to IT’S COMPLICATED, but I don’t think that would be wise seeing that my troubles are with Facebook.

I have no misconceptions that FB is akin to taking your dirty Calvins and stapling them to the village flagpole. Got it. I’m mostly okay with that, if my Calvins offend you then block me. Lord knows if you keep flinging your drawers towards my hair gel you’re going to get blocked. No harm. No foul.

I guess my point, and I do have one, is that I do have to watch what I’d like the world to know. I have to ask myself do the nieces and nephews really need to know every shade of my life, see my Calvins? I’m thinking no. Isn’t that what Twitter* is for.

Now that I think of it Facebook isn’t detrimental, I get to connect with great people from around the globe that I never would have met otherwise. And cyber stocking is fun. Want to know how much Erwin in SF is pressing these days? Facebook. Stare at Kez’s handsome mug for awhile? No need to fly to Melbourne, Facebook.

So maybe my relationship status isn’t COMPLICATED, I just needed to remember that like in all relationships there are boundaries.

*Twitter is like the mail room at work. Full of packages.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011


I started chatting to a muscled torso on Scruff the other day. Isn’t it funny how we talk online these days to headless men? It was the typical stuff: “how’s life on your side of the planet, you’re hot. No, you’re hot” kind of intellectual gravitas. We exchanged stats and after I clicked the blue SEND button there was a long pause. I went back to my book.

“You’re 39?” popped up. “You don’t look 39?”

Wait. Let’s just stop right here…. Has this started? You look great for your age stage. You’re young for your age. Yes, I understand that it’s a complement. Sort of. And everyone that’s had to listen to me whine about this says the same thing. Well it’s true you look great…for 39.

I guess it’s time for a DaddyHunt profile. Because I’m all about embracing my Daddy role, or maybe I’ll just work the “big bro” role for as long as I can.

Monday, March 28, 2011


I can’t really explain this photo….

Other than just saying that there was craziness at the Costco over the weekend.

Spring has arrived in our fair city, the trees are trying to bud and the weather has mellowed out to almost T-shirt temperature. Saturday we left the house at eleven in the morning to meet friends for breakfast. We found that after four hours sitting in Denver Diner we were still having fun chatting away about absolutely nothing important. Then after some mall time, we met another group of friends for dinner. As I pulled into the driveway after eleven in the evening, I laughed that our plans for a quick lunch then a workout at the gym completely got high-jacked.

Yesterday was the hardest and best run I’ve ever pushed my sinewy body to complete. I ran the stairs in Cheeseman Park three at a time over and over until the gay-homeless asked me to stop as I was exhausting them.

Now, after explaining what a great and spring like weekend I had it’s snowing this morning. This is just a great way to show that it may be Spring, but we’re not out of the snow just yet.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

It's In The Jeans

I've got the boyfriend's jeans on today. It was dark and early when I got dressed, guess I didn't notice. This means two things:

1) I can fit in size 34s for the first time since the Bush administration. So I'm excited about getting a flat stomach.

2) The boyfriend is going to kill me for wearing his jeans when I get home.

2+2 =

Yesterday was placement exam day at school. I had to take a battery of exams to determine the classes I will need to start at the University. Remedial classes that is. The first thing the advisor asked was if I did any writing in my day to day life, write reports for work or have a blog where she could review my writing.

“No. No I do not have a blog.”

I don’t know why I said this so quickly with terror in my voice. Maybe I got scared that a muggle was going to read my blog. An outsider. Maybe I got all junkyard dog because the thought of an English professor reading my dissertation on anal bleaching was….. odd.

So, I sat in the class with twenty year olds and pulled every bit of knowledge on homonyms and homographs I could remember. The math portion was easy; I made a robot out of the little circles where you should put answers. I wouldn’t have a clue so I entertained myself. The killer robot had laser vision that blasted the algebra off the page. Rawr!

Even with the creative math answers I scored exceedingly high on the test. Take that twenty somethings! I guess I’m not s dumb as I thinkz I is.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011


Yesterday I was discussing a work project with a Lieutenant commander via the phone. As a regular part of my job I have meetings with this individual. As the conversation came to a close this gentleman stated “Okay, thanks babe.”

There was a couple of seconds of silence when I stated that the media was correct the military really is reforming certain protocols. This was greeted with an enthusiastic “have a great day” and a click.

Don’t ask, don’t tell. Babe.

Monday, March 21, 2011


I must tell you I had a great weekend. Well, mostly. I have gone running every day since last Wednesday, Friday’s run after working from home was amazing with the cool air and a finally centered brain. I was also extremely excited about getting to watch Rugby on Saturday morning. Although this led to a Sophie’s choice.

Because of the time change England’s try at the Grand Slam against Ireland was broadcast by BBC America at 10AM on Saturday morning. I was chomping away to watch the “big match” when I get an invite from Carl and Will to have Saturday brunch at their house. Damn! If you get an invite to eat Carl’s cooking you just don’t pass it up. My belly started to growl, brunchie breakfast foods…. My head and crotch started to growl, rugby and hot guys in tight shorts… What to do?

I set the DVR and head to brunch.

The food was amazing, as always. But, because of this choice and only because of my choice Ireland destroyed England’s Grand Slam hopes. Ireland: 24 England: 8 I decided to drink as I couldn’t handle the responsibility. Right around this time I received a text from a friend wanting to go to a movie. I told him about the loss:

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was it a big match/game/thing? Are you going to be okay? How does the loss make you feel?”

The super gay text made me laugh so hard I got off the couch and went for yet another amazing run in the spring weather.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Breakfast of Champions

This morning I decided to make a delicious bowl of oatmeal. My mouth watered as I added The milk and the last of the blueberries. Just as I headed to the breakfast table Fuzzy came around the corner.
"You made me oatmeal!"
"Uh, yes. I thought you would want breakfast, enjoy." He he took one bite then turned and dumped the bowl down the sink. "Gross! Blueberries!"

Friday, March 18, 2011


In honor of St. Patrick’s Day I drank a lot of beer last night. Well, red beers. I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone and instead of tomato juice I added potassium iodide. Today I’m hung over and my liver is shot, but my thyroid is fantastic.

I met a friend for dinner last night at pizza place in an old 1880s bank lobby I’ve been going to since high school. I’ve always loved it because you can buy pizza by the slice.

As we sat and talked a roving Irish bagpipe band came down the street and turned into the restaurant. The sounds of the pipes echoed off the marble floors making a deafening rumble. The owner of the restaurant screamed loud enough to stop the lads in the second stanza then barked that this was the ITALIAN place the IRISH pub was next door.

As they filed out deflated the owner turned to us and said “That’s what I call a drive-by bag job.”

Thursday, March 17, 2011


To entertain myself this week I thought finally dump Blogger and move my world over to WordPress. For quite a while I’ve been in a bad relationship with Blogger, we have history and yet I’ve grown as an individual and need more things in my life, like mobile versions. But it’s easy and just there, waiting for me.

I stated to envy other guy’s blog sites so I guess I need change. This would include getting my website back up and running. I had a web site for years but after awhile I just let it die a solemn death. This was a sad day because there were A LOT of Steve-graphics that were designed for me. This week I’m awake all night long anyway so I thought I buy a couple of domain names and set up

But is not available, it's been for sale for seven years, and it can stay for sale. So I need to buy or some sort of take on that theme:

So…. It’s still a work in progress. But just as I started to clink PURCHASE for the WordPress hosting I find that Blogger has come to me and said it wants to be a better man and not hit me in front of the children.

We’ll just see… Or else I’ll have to pack up my four and half years of baggage and pawn it off on someone new. Oh, WordPress. You’re so dreamy.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011


Part of what makes me such a great catch is my sleeping habits. Or lack thereof. Part of this charm is my night terrors, insomnia, and inability to be woken up without fists flying. Let’s say you wanting to get romantic in the middle of the night by gentling pressing your man area against my tookus, there is a 50/50 chance this will result in a fist flying at your face. You’d have to become adept at seduce me by thrusting your gay-wedding tackle while simultaneously stopping a flying fist of death. I’m such a keeper.

On a cruise a couple of years ago my bunk mates, Jerrod and Carl came in after dinner to wake me. As Jerrod quietly said my name and touched my shoulder. I hit the roof. No, really I was on the top bunk and I flew up and literally hit the ceiling. Poor Carl was laughing so hard he had to hide in the bathroom.

This week has been one of the harder weeks. No sleep for Steve.  It has something to do with the Fukushima Nuclear power plant. If you have been reading the Steve-blog for awhile you’ll know that I’m obsessed with the Chernobyl disaster and this situation just adds to the obsession. I’ve successfully avoided all media and yet I’m still finding myself drawn to the story.

Yesterdays attempt to sleep started at three in the afternoon and hasn’t really ended even today at work. I’m taking it all in stride; really what else can you can do but laugh at the situation. I’m thinking of auditioning for gay zombie porn. I hear that’s a growing niche in the gay porn industry. Ruuurrreer, rruuurrur Uuuuunnnngg.

Monday, March 14, 2011


Last week I went for a run in the park. As I ran, I passed a gentlemen playing fetch with his retriever. We smiled and nodded and I continued down the path. Within seconds I felt a dull thud on the back of my head. Not hard enough to hurt, but slobbery enough to splatter the back of my head with slime. Stopping on the trail I looked down to find a tennis ball rolling into the grass. A retriever quickly gobbled it up. After apologizing the dog’s owner admitted to throwing the ball to get the dog to bring me the tennis ball. Apparently this was a way he met guys. Although he seemed crestfallen when I asked if hitting guys with spit covered tennis balls had worked in the past. After laughing about he's balls hitting me in the head and chatting he seemed nice, other then the whole physical assault thing. I’ve since stopped to chat several times since.

What I learned from this is that you have to risk making a fool of yourself to break down a wall and meet new people.

Saturday, March 12, 2011


I really want to thank the guys who took the FIVE DEGREE challenge and wrote about themselves this week. I think we all were able to learn a little more about each other. I learned something about myself. Writing on an assigned theme SUCKS. Even if I came up with the topics, it was harder then I imagined.

I did however discover some news bloggers, Jim over at Jim's Stuff is someone I can't wait to read more about.

I guess we're a little less than five degree apart now. but, as for me. My head hurts from all that thinking. We'll now return you to better stories like not wearing underwear while doing sit-ups at the gym.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Contented Dog


This week I’m taking five topics and writing my thoughts. The topics are: 
Dumbest Thing Ever Done
Toughest Choice
Happiest Moment
Crush / Lust
Secret Loves


It was actually more difficult than I thought to write about secret loves in my life. This is because I do a bunch of things that make me happy but are driven by my OCD. Cleaning my car’s windshield twice a day makes me happy but only because if feeds my need to be clean all the time. Checking constantly to ensure that my underwear and jocks are perfectly stacked in my dresser drawer makes me happy and also feeds another need. This forced me to think of what makes me truly happy. Not just satisfies my germaphobe tendencies. So I started to list what makes me happy and yet what I haven’t rambled on about in my blog for years. 

And here they are:

On Sundays I have coffee with friends, go for a long run, and treat myself to Japanese food. But it’s the long drive home back to the ranch I love. I crank up the tunes on the highway and just drive completely contented.

Using the phrase “Fucking Faggot” during sex. A lot.

Doing push-ups and jumping from narrow to wide stance.

English muffins.

Working “intellectual gravitas” into a conversation. This never happens, but I’m ready.

I really love staying in hotels. When a work trip gets mentioned I’m the first to jump on it. In the past I’ve even checked into hotels just to lounge around in the complementary robe.

Jack in the Box or any type of regional fast food.

Watching amateur sports. As much as I hate the NFL, I do love amateur football. It seems they’re playing for the love of the game.

A well fitting T-shirt.

Taking the plastic wrap off a new Apple product. I just love that.

Thursday, March 10, 2011


This week I’m taking five topics and just writing:
Dumbest Thing Ever Done
Toughest Choice
Happiest Moment
Crush / Lust
Secret Loves

You're welcome to join in, write anything you feel along these ideas and let me know where I can read the outcome. Or just enjoy the carnage....

Crushes are hard to describe, for me anyway. We all have them from time to time. I try to keep them under wraps because I can easily see myself like the women on the TV news being put into a police car. “But he said he loved me! I know he killed some folks butz he luvvved me! That’s why I help him chop up the bodies.. He said I was pretty!!! He said I wuz pretty!!!”

Scratch me behind the ears just once and I’ll spend weeks writing your name over and over on the cover of my Social Studies book.

It seems I always have some new crush going on; it may be because I just saw Hugh Jackman smile or connected to a guy’s blog post. This starts me feeling like Marty Mcfly’s Mom in Back to the Future. I keep hearing her voice say “He’s a dream boat” Every time I see he’s face. Well… photo because I’ve never met him. And isn’t that the best part, what you don’t know about someone you can just make up. You start wondering, I bet “_____” likes watching rugby and picking the bananas out of fruit salad too. Or, I’m sure that “_____” hates when the waiter tries to chit-chat and won’t let you just eat in peace either. We’re sooo alike.

I guess it’s just part of being a gay guy, or just being alive in the age of technology. You start to bond with guys when you read their blog or twits or Faceplace updates. Even if they are in another part of the universe you are drawn to their aura. If I believed in that aura crap, which I don’t. Neither does he.

The chunka-chunk in my chest makes me feel alive, reminds me that I’m still a kid in some respects. So in the end crushes are just an innocent hold over from being a closeted gay boy sitting on the bleachers with the stoner chicks watching the football team practice. The only thing different is that now I can jump into the game.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011


This week I’m taking five topics and just writing:
Dumbest Thing Ever Done
Toughest Choice
Happiest Moment
Crush / Lust
Secret Loves

You're welcome to join in, write anything you feel along these ideas and let me know where I can read the outcome. Or just enjoy the carnage....

My Happiest Moment:
I have to say that one of my most cherished or happiest moments happened on the last gay cruise. In the middle of the week the big dance / drug binge wasn’t on the pool deck but down in the ice skating ring turned dance hall. The theme was Enchantment Under The Seas or something like that. In just our 501s Fuzzy and I jumped into the middle of the dance floor. The light show and hard bodies were amazing. The music was out of this world, we both were in ecstasy. For about twenty minutes. Then our eyes met and a something told us that we needed to escape.

Hand in hand we ran up to pool deck to find it deserted. The light show and sound system had changed from the high-energy beat from the other nights to chill out cool sounds. I quickly stripped down naked and jumped into the pool. The cool water, the ship moving through the dark night, and me floating naked under that stars.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


This week I’m taking five topics and just writing:

Dumbest Thing Ever Done
Toughest Choice
Happiest Moment
Crush / Lust
Secret Loves

You're welcome to join in, write anything you feel along these ideas and let me know where I can read the outcome. Or just enjoy the carnage....


Depending on your perspective tough choices come into our life’s on a daily bases, or only once in a life time. I’ve decided to go back to school after…. Well since dinosaurs ruled the land. That was a tough choice. I feel a great one. Choices propel us forward, like sharks if we stop moving we’ll drown.

In the pre-dawn morning I stood in the main terminal of LaGuardia Airport in New York City. My flight back to Colorado was departing soon. I had just helped drive a moving van across country ending in Dalton’s new life in Brooklyn.

There were a lot of tough choices to get us to this point. Some bad, some good, but the culmination of all these choices after four years together he was starting his life in New York.

In a way, that morning was the end of choices. We rode to the airport in calm silence. We watched the dark buildings of the strange city that would change what meant to be Dalton and Steve speed pass on the highway. The crushing crowd at the airport seemed to be move in slow motion. If only we had more time in our relationship…. Seconds ticked by…. Dalton and Steven as a couple where moments away from evaporating… I flashed to the smile on his face when he finally pulled his head out of his notebook at that coffee shop in Dallas. If we only had more time.

We hugged and he turned quickly. He disappeared into the crowd.

Five years have passed since that day and I wouldn’t change anything on the path since. Our bond is stronger today then even back then. We knew even on that day that we really would be connected forever. Yet choices had to be made to keep moving forward.

Our decisions define us; the tough choices define our character.

Monday, March 7, 2011


This week I’m taking five topics and writing:

Dumbest Thing Ever Done
Toughest Choice
Happiest Moment
Crush / Lust
Secret Loves

You're welcome to join in, write anything you feel along these ideas and let me know where I can read the outcome. Or just enjoy the carnage....


I’ve done some really dumb stuff in my life, like on my twenty-first birthday saying “Sure!” To a very nice man in very tight jeans. Then trying to explain why I was walking funny for the next week. Or as a kid thinking I could steal my Dad's truck and race around the country roads around our ranch without major damage to car and my body. Then trying to explain why I was walking funny for the next week.

My very first trip to a bathhouse happened on my eighteenth birthday. I stripped down quickly and ran into the bathroom to work up some courage. On the bathroom wall a large sign with the rules of etiquette. Number two was warning about the dangers and transmission of HIV through fellatio. Standing there in nothing but a confused look all ninety-eight pounds of me read it as fell-a-tino.

“Why would having sex with Latinos be so dangerous?”

To this day when I see a hot Latin guy I think “Oh, Dangerous!” And receiving fellatio from a Hispanic guy? Escandaloso!

Friday, March 4, 2011


Next week I’m going to launch a blogging idea called FIVE DEGREES. Five aspects that people might not know. Since I don’t have a lot of secrets in my blogging* I thought it would be great to take five themes and write about them. Here are the topics:

Dumbest Thing 
Toughest Choice
Happiest Moment
Crush / Lust
Secret Loves

Monday I’ll start with the dumbest moment of my life. It has something to do with fellatio and me walking funny.  I hope you enjoy the carnage, but if your a blogger you're welcome to join in, write anything you feel along these ideas and let me know where we can read them.

*Complete strangers have come up to me and said “Are you that Mormon Puma blogger?”

Thursday, March 3, 2011


A typical text message conversation I had yesterday…

Carl: “I had a dream last night. So you and I were in a corner of a house party in Dallas. We were sitting in the corner because everyone was wearing starched Dallas outfits but I wasn’t. I had an ear hair that was several inches long and you told me to pull it out.”
Steve: “And? What happened?”
Carl: “After ducking behind a partition wall (because of what I was wearing) I stretched out the ear hair and it was 8 inches long. You shrieked and ran way leaving me behind the wall. I just wanted to say thanks….”
Carl: “Did you get the part where I said thanks?”
Steve: “Nice to think I’d ditch you with man-grooming issues at a high-gay Dallas party.”
Carl: “Yeah! For shrieking and running. Leaving me to sit on the floor alone behind that partition wall. In a room full on starched Dallas fags. I couldn’t follow you because of how I was dressed. Just as I worked up the courage to walk out of the party in my outfit I woke up.”
Steve: “Wow. You’re under a lot of stress.”
Carl: “I have the oddest dreams after eating meat…. Last night… you were there…”
Steve: “…being a jerk. Sorry.”
Carl: “Thanks. I feel better.”

Later that day....

Carl: “I wish I had worn cuter clothes."

Wednesday, March 2, 2011


Have you ever stood on a seawall and stared out at the sea? Stood there alone and watched as the tide rushed in and the sea spray hits your face.

This morning as I drove to work a Wrangler and Focus decided to collide at seventy miles per hour directly in front of me. Sparks flew as they slammed first into each other then into the retaining wall of I-76. And as I swerved and weaved to avoid the flying plastic parts of domestic auto shrapnel I was not in the moment at all. I found my brain instantaneously transported to the sea wall on Galveston Island on the coast of Texas.

When I was a kid, Galveston Island represented a luxury vacation destination for my family. South/East of Houston it seemed to me at the time to be as posh as Malibu. As a teenager it turned into the premier spot to ditch school and spend the day on the beach. In the car I would ensure that I would get smashed in the back seat next to Chuck Harris. I’d be nearly overwhelmed by his Polo cologne but I wouldn’t care. We were thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. For most of my sophomore year I was his shadow, he really had no I idea who I was, but I didn’t care. I got to spend the day with him on Galveston wrestling in the surf.

On my last trip out with the guys we found a beach bathroom and concession stand that had a jukebox. Upon the mere mention from Chuck on how he liked Belinda Carlisle’s new song: Circle in the Sand I blew five bucks to play just that song over and over. I laid there on my towel listening to the lyrics:

“Day breaks, my heart aches, I will wait right here.”

Years later I returned to that beach and stood as an adult on that seawall. My head was filled with disillusionment. Love had punched me in the face. Life had punched me in the face. I stood there wondering what to do. It was like a decompression slowly took place, the tide and sand, the slowly setting sun pulled me into a place I’d never found before. Peace. Peace with being Steve.

This morning as I swerved sharply to avoid a tiny Ford from scratching my clear coat I returned to the seawall. “Circle in the sand” I have a funny feeling I’m going to be listening to a lot of Belinda Carlisle for awhile.