COPS-V-500 thread count

We were a little late getting up and around this morning. As Fuzzy works on Sunday mornings and his boss is Jesus it’s not proper to be late to work. As we were rushing around I stopped to make the bed. I was smoothing out the sheets and aligning the pillows properly and I heard “come on baby, we gotta go! The bed will be here when we get back.” I know but what if the TV show Cops break in while we’re gone and film our unmade bed.” As this fell from my pie hole I realized that this was actually a serious concern to me. My entire adult life I’ve been walking around with the fear that if my house was messy a second rate TV show would barge in and film it. I don’t think I could life with the consequences of Cops filming my wrinkled sheets.
This just might be a step away from lining up my drinks in the refrigerator. Have you seen Flipping Out? Jeff Lewis, Wow wack job. I say that thinking that he probably does not have a persecution complex for coffee cups in the sink.
On Cops there are prostitutes, drug dealers and car thieves and I hardly do any of those things, but still want to feel tough so keeping my bed made will keep me on the right side of the law. That’s how I roll.

Words to many to read.

So as normal I’m at on the phone with Carl cruising through the blogs. “Have you read this blog yet?” “Yep, Try this one yet?” “Funny hu, how about that one? no, cool.” Soon we found ourselves on a blog about pride and started to read. Quietly I heard Carl start to repeat “Words to many to read. Words to many to read. Ahhh pictures.“ Everyone needs a Blog buddy.

Judy Tenuta and Splenda-ritas

I think the highlight for me on gay marriage in California is that I’ve discovered that Judy Tenuta is an ordained minister. Well she is, but of her own church and of her own religion. It’s called Judyism, yes it’s pronounced Jud e ism. Like Judaism but with tequila instead of the Talmud.
Now I could think of no better way to get hitched then to have Judy call you “pigs” throughout the touching if not scary ceremony. I suddenly feel as if I not ready to get married.

I’ve discovered a new drink, a Splenda-rita. All the happy, happy joy of a Margarita but none of the sugar. Now that’s how I know that the terrorists have not won.

Denver pride '08

It was pride week in Denver, the time of year where you celebrate your gayness by marching in the streets in front of the evangelicals holding damning and misspelled signs. And apparently running into every ex-boyfriend you ever had. Like Jim who wondered up to me and in a drunken stuper and let me know that He has my dishes (from 1993) Ahhh Pride. Denver throws a huge party on the hottest day of the year to celebrate. I’ve been to many cities that have moved their parades to evenings or even later in the season just to accommodate the melting drag queens, but in Denver, you’ll find the hardiest, toughest and smelliest Drag Queens around.

We did what 30 something Moes do, we watched the guys on the parade floats and wondered out loud if we were ever that skinny or that slutty. Then we did the loop around Civic Center cruising naked chests and avoiding the aforementioned ex-boyfriends. Trying to eat a funnel cake and still look hot is not so easy, but I think I pulled it off. And just as our forefathers gays did before us we then marched back up the hill to the Wrangler for beer bust. The Stonewall riots instilled within us the right to stand shirtless in the sun and drink warm beer. All in all it was a pretty great pride.

This weekend was also our anniversary (How cute they met on Pride.) Fuzzy and I went to the Cherry Creek Grill for a romantical dinner. It was great, although the highlight was when Fuzzy was deep in romantic talk about us when I coughed and spewed a tiny little piece of cornbread across the table onto his new shirt. So as he continued about the strength of our relationship I stared at a huge stain growing on his chest. “Yes hunny, we are like a gay Marie and Pierre Curie… but I just spewed food onto you. Happy Anniversary.

I almost forgot to mention what happened to “the silver spoon.” Well, I must say I really loved the great advice, but I thought the best thing to do was to come clean about stealing antique silver literally and figuratively. I first coached myself with “Yes, I did steal your grandmothers silver….. but your Pecs are huge today.”
One morning when Fuzzy looked particularly sleepy I took out the spoon from its hiding place to start the conversation that “Yes, I did steal your grandmothers silver.” As I turned to speak, Fuzzy was playing with Harley the Super-Shar-pei, scooped him up and quickly bonked heads. The dog staggered off into the dinning room and Fuzzy had to sit down for awhile. I just put the spoon back.

Hamburger Mary's Alfresco

They say that Denver is behind “real cities” by up to five years. I began to believe this, since I left Dallas I’ve lived without a lot of things that I believe are essential to being a slim, trim modern gay guy. This weekend however we’re starting to be a major Mo city. Yes, Hamburger Mary’s is opening their patio. I have not chilled on a Big Gay Patio since I wore Z Cavariccis. Well, maybe not that long ago.
I think of myself as an eclectic kind of gay, I just may be the last Mo in Denver to really like the Eagle. Sorry, It’s a great bar. I get great service and cool freak watching. While everyone is whining that is “Not good enough.” They will soon being whining that there’s not a Leather Bar in Denver.
Use it or lose it.
But back to the patio, Denver needed a real gay patio bar. Now ya might be thinking “But Steve.. JR’s has a patio?” Okay fine, whatever.
I have to admit that I hate JR’s. this is mostly due to the time spent in the real JR’s in Dallas. Let’s just say that there was a bartender that had my credit card number memorized.
But just go hang out at Mary’s and you’ll love it. It is like living in a real honest-to-goodness big gay Mecca. You can sip on a Martini, then walk down to the Wrangler and get your Bear on. GRRRR!
Next thing you know and we’ll get a gay coffee house, real gay Bingo and then sometime after that gay marriage.

SILVER SPOON IN MY MOUTH

After we moved in together I got a phone call at work. “Steve, I was cleaning up and found that a piece of my grandmothers silver is missing.” Now when I looked over at the Eagle leather bar and saw this muscle bound Italian decked out in his leather I never dreamed that someday he’d be asking me about his Grandmothers silver.
Go figure.
Uh, okay where did you use it last? Maybe it’s stuck in the dishwasher?” “Okay, first silver does not go in the dishwasher. Second I have not used it. Have you? Not having a clue what I was about to get into I replied “I only use the knifes to screw in the switch plate covers.”
Wow that really was the wrong thing to say.
It’s a spoon Steven (I love it when he calls me Steven) One of my grandmother’s silver spoons it has been in the family for generations.
I really have no concept of having things ‘in the family for generations’ because Mormons are always melting their shit down to make some sort of new temple. Buy some damn drywall freaks.
Suddenly it hits me; Fuzzy is accusing me of pilfering the silver. Oh my god! Okay so he wasn’t accusing me. Just concerned that I pawned his silver spoon to buy crack. He asked, “Maybe you took a spoon to work to eat lunch and forgot it?” I love that he loves me so much that he quickly built an alibi to cover me to protect me from my self. Suddenly I thought, I could have killed a man and Fuzzy would nervously stammer. “ Ummm He jumped forward and fell on your spoon…. seven times… yeah that’s it.”
“No, I don’t use your silver to eat my lunches and no I have not touched it, I would never, I know how much it means to you. This ended the CSI interrogation. I promised I would help him look for it later that evening. We did not find it and sadly Fuzzy came to live with the fact that the family silver was not whole. So neither was Fuzzy.
So on a completely unrelated note, Yesterday I was finally cleaning out my desk and digging out my files when I reach back to the back of 2007’s files and pull out a spoon. The spoon. I am in SOOOOO much fucking trouble. I think I’ll just slip it into the solid oak velvet lined box with the family crest upon the top. Maybe he won’t notice. And while we’re keeping secrets let’s not tell him that I hold the dog up so he can play piano with his paws.

BUT HER WORTH

This is what happens every night at Southfork.
Steve-Um, what’s for dinner?
Fuzzy-What do you want?
Steve- Food.
Fuzzy-What kinda food?
Steve-Something good.
This goes on for awhile, longer then any two men should possibility talk this way. I can make where to eat into a scene from Hamlet.
“O! what a rogue and peasant slave am I to Taco Bell!”

We decided that pancakes where the only way to go for dinner and we found ourselves at Uber-Target. Now, I personally will only eat pure maple syrup but Fuzz will only eat that brown stuff that’s 99% High-Fructose corn syrup. This is when he turned to me and asked. “Who do you think would win in a cage match, Aunt Jemima or Mrs. Butterworth?” “Well I guess, who ever wants it more.” “Well, They’re both strong black women.” I stopped a second, “Mrs. Butterworth is Caucasian.” Fuzzy looked like I just stated that the Pope was a Scientologist. “No, She’s of African Descent” “Ummm, I think she’s white. Ya-know grandmotherly, cute little white woman. “No she’s a strong black grandmother!” So this continued on for quite a while, so long that a big haired house wife had to quickly grab Log Cabin and run. We decided that we were going to “Google it.” Either way Aunt Jemima has had a harder life and would take Butterworth in 2 rounds.
I’ve been reading everything I can find on this Butterworth creature. I’ve found nothing to prove for a fact the ethnic heritage of this woman I grew up with. I did find that the voice for Mrs. Butterworth, Mary Kay Bergman, took her own life at age 39 in 1999. That will dampen your Syrupy goodness. Oh, Mrs. Butterworth you are truly what Barack Obama means when he speaks of Ethnic culture in America. It is not the package that we judge it’s the syrup inside.

I was getting ready this morning and found that I couldn't find the dog. Since Fuzzy sleeps late they're usually curled up in a furry ball. That's when I spotted a paw sticking out on the other side of the bed. I ran and got my camera:





I guess I've gotten to the point where I post pictures of Shar-peis.

Saturday

I just wanted to recap everything I’ve eaten this weekend. This will not include the fact that I ate my weight in Taco bell on Friday. Saturday morning we actually slept-in which rarely happens but Fuzzy still wasn’t feeling well (tummy ache.) I think this was due to his huge concert he was to conduct later that night but I digress. Since the tummy ache we did not make sweet furry love. We had a nice quiet “gym shorts” type of morning, he made coffee and I started the chores, cleaning mostly. We’re still trying to put together the office after moving in together. The topic moved to hanging art. DANGER, DANGER! We proceeded to have a “lively discussion” about what and where to hang stuff. I kept thinking “ Wow, how many gay couples in the history of time have fought over Herb Ritts?”
After sneaking some Peanut butter fingers, not the candy bar but when you drag your fingers through the peanut butter then suck off the yummyness it was way past time for food. We went to Village Inn, a Denny’s type of restaurant awash with pastels and aged Asians. I had the Ultimate skillet, toast and pancakes. Two bites into it asked Fuzzy if they forgot his French Fries, “No just ate them already.” Wow.
Soon it came time to drop off Fuzz for his concert and I met up with Carl n Will for Dinner, still full from Lunch/breakfast. We ended up at Chili’s where we inhaled chili fries and for dinner I decided to have another appetizer. It was intended for a party of four but I finished it off nicely. The concert went well, as much as one can enjoy Mozart on classical organ. Afterwards The Fuzz and I stopped at a gas station for dinner, we selected a nice burrito entitled “The Bomb” and Moon Pies. Washing this down with a nice Diet Coke. We then watched Logo’s Alien Boot Camp until 2AM when my stomach planned a mutiny.

Spring

I put down the top on the Jeep for the first time this spring. I know when Spring has arrived to the Rocky Mountains when I can drive through the park when the top down and the sound track to Run Lola Run blaring. It’s like when the tulips bloom but more like pansies in convertibles.
I’m in the middle of the ritual of removing the top and listening to Everything But The Girl when the neighbor came out to go to church. The 7-year-old boy ran up to me, apparently he likes to flirt with me. He runs straight up to me and said “ I know a lot about space!” Sooo gonna try that in the bar. I zipped back yeah, what about Uranus!” Pronounced YOUR-ANUS. Then quickly thought, well this is a great way to get arrested. The kid had a puzzled look on his face, Uh… I mean UR-IN-US, the seventh planet from the sun? He smiles, “have a good day!” He turns running back to the mini-van. God, if ya’ll don’t hear from me it’ll be because I’m jail. Have I mentioned how much I hate kids?

Here's a pic of me topless in the Jeep:

Tales from the Safeway

I had to run to the Safeway today to pick up a Happy Retirement card for someone I’ve never met from our corporate HQ. I find it soothing to by crap for people I don’t know, but I’m not in my office so hey. I get to the check out line and the woman in front of me turns to me like we do each others Pedies and giggles “I’ve forgot something, watch my cart and you can go in front of me.” Now the word “Coolie-O” came out of my mouth, I don’t really know why. But hey we’re pedie mates so coolie-o. I’m standing there for a while and I’m having fun judging what’s in her basket, thanking God I’m gay. The Hets buy some weird stuff. So she comes back and starts loading her groceries onto the belt. I thought of doing it for her but ewww, I’m not touching Pampers even in the package. As I get to the cashier I state that I’m just getting the card. She responds “what about your groceries?” I turn and the lady is gone, again. Trying to be funny I say “I would never buy Ragu.” Then together the cashier and I look down to see that there is no Ragu anywhere on the belt. Obviously she had looked to see me standing by myself by this shopping cart, and now Ragu lover has disappeared leaving me with pampers and no sauce to go with them. “Sir what do you wanted me to do with your groceries?” Now they’re mine? “Sell them to the next lady that comes up to you” I say “I just want this card Please.” She then muttered something under her breath that sounded like “crazy fool.” So she rings up my card in time for Ms. Pasta Sauce to return and says “Thank you Mr. Leroy” Without thinking I shoot “Who” “Earl Leroy, it says soooooo on THE card.” Now since I was using the company card it has my bosses name not mine. Oh….yes. “And it’s Mr. Le Roy” I grab my card and run away.

Tummy ache with the cow

I pretty much decided to get the stomach flu yesterday. Good choice I thought. So I stayed home all day yesterday. As we hung out on the Super-squishy ell shaped sofa of love I realized that I had not spent a day at home in years. The last time was during the “Great Steve Pneumonia Scare” of 04. I hate spending time at home, “just hanging out” I’ve always got be going somewhere. So even though I was home sick I did laundry and vacuumed. I was, however to sick to even log on to Big Muscle.com, now that’s sick.
Did I ever mention that Fuzzy has this dead cow on the wall, not a whole dead cow just the hide or fur. I think it’s kind of cool, as much a dead cow hanging on your living room wall can be. But I’ve been staring at the cobwebs for way to long. So with the stomach flu I grabbed the vacuum drug it and myself on to the loft area and sucked it clean. He’s a very clean cow now. And am happy even if I’m sick as a dog.
I think I'm gonna host a "name the cow" contest. I'll get some pics of him/her/it so you can really feel the name come to you. I'd post them now but I'm to busy puking to work my Instamatic.

SODOMITE SNACK CAKE

Okay seriously, are all snack cakes gay? I was on the internets the other day looking for images and I found this yummy if not flaming layout. I don’t remember snacks cakes being so swishy. Like they would get their delicious little cream-filled heads bashed in if they walked through the corn chips turf in the vending machine. So on the left there’s “The Captain” a dark, fudgy daddy in uniform. Then there’s Twinkie the Kid, I love the hearts on his scarf very broke back."I wish I could quit you!" Next is what it would look like if a chocolate roll was “rolling” during a Peter Pan Themed Atlantis cruise T-dance. His bags have “water” bottles and tiny little glow sticks in them. On the right is apparently an Oscar Wilde cream pie. Yummy, and sharp witticisms on every bag. You didn’t hear this from me but Chocolate Roll is a huge druggie bottom. Just so ya know.

No man knows Whitney's Naked Burritos

We went to Tracks to dance last night. They have two rooms, one with a DJ flown in from somewhere and the “Retro” room. I of course was in the retro room. They played Whitney Houston's I Wanna Dance with Somebody, now I have to admit that I loved Whitney. Early Whitney, being the dork that I am I knew that this song was released in May of 1987. I then looked around and realized that every guy around us was born in 1987. I went to stand by the bar. The highlight of the evening was upon leaving the Burrito Lady was waiting for us. I declared my undying love for her and she just gave me the look of understanding like a priest would give to one of their flock. Sometimes at night I dream of her.

So, I went to see Naked B4 God. Which had neither nakedness nor God in. Yes, it was horrible. Mike Jones’ acting was as good as you would think a guy with 30-years in the escort business would be. Don’t quit your day job. He was a step away from chewing on the scenery. And yet as the train wreck kept twisting and piling up I realized that Mike seems like an incredibly nice guy. Someone you’d want to sit next to at Thanksgiving, he comes from a great well-adjusted place that ya can't help but applaud his courage. So way to go Mike, just take acting lessons.

It’s Easter morning and I have successfully avoided any calls from the family. Yeah, I’m sure I just jinxed myself. Wouldn’t it lovely to not drive to the Mom’s house to listen to the family actively avoid asking me any questions about my personal life. “So Steve, How’s….work treating you?” I would then reply “Well I fucked 2 menz butts and had a muscled gym buddy pee on my chest.” “Well that’s great! It’s important to keep busy.” Thanks aunt Helen. That and Mormons are world famous for being horrid cooks.

I took a strange exit off the Highway mostly because I really needed gas yesterday . As I came off the fly over a Jetta merged into my lane and came inches to taking us out. I swirved and contained myself getting back to being desperate about gas. As I pulled up to the nearest pump I got out and quickly realized that the Jetta was pulling up behind me and the driver was hopping out. Great, this is not going to end well. My Pumas are sooo going to get scuffed. “Dude” barks the 20 year old with his cap turned to the side. I think “Puff up puff up they hate that” So I roll my shoulders up and hold the gas hose with manly confidence. "Dude.. Sorry about that back there. I didn’t see you.” Uhhhh, OK no big. “Are we cool?” Yep, no big... thanks. Dude turns, jumps in to the Jetta and zips away.

Walter and Perry

On Adult Swim (AKA The Cartoon Network) there’s a cartoon called Home Movies. If you have not seen this little show you should DVR it. It has Paula Poundstone as Brendan Small’s Mom. The highlight of your experience will be meeting Walter and Perry. they're the original happiest gay couple in the world. Check them out.




In a world out of control this truly is a love story for our time...

McJesus

I had to teach class at work today. The monkeys never really listen but I talk about teamwork and integrity and they try not to fall asleep. On my way in I stopped at McDonald’s to pick up some bribes or breakfast, whichever. So I approached the counter and asked Jesus for 30 egg McMuffins. He wasn’t the real Jesus just a 19 year old with the same name, in case you where wondering. So I say “Morning, may I have 30 egg McMuffins?” Jesus replied. “ Do ya want deese for heere or to go?”
“Um, to go please. When I stay and eat people tend to stare.” Jesus didn’t even blink, damn he’s good.

Naked B4 God

Naked B4 God. Oh god Mike Jones, the escort who exposed New Life pastor Ted Haggard now tries to stay in our hearts.
When Mike Jones first came forward and exposed not only the hypocrisy of an extremely right wing pastor who “taught” the evils of Homosexuality by speaking up about their “blow by blow” relationship, but also shed a light on the fundamental Christian church and how it's tiring to rewrite America in it’s own image. I was impressed and a little giggly.
Then he appeared on every news program on the planet exposing the dark secrets and evils of the fundamentalist and gave every flaming drug filled detail. I applauded.
Next was the book with every detail of the relationship and the saga explained. Now, for full disclosure I have not read this book, unless it has Superman as the main antagonist I probably won’t read. But I respected that he held his own feet to the flames to get this documented. How many books are out there by right wing authors spewing forth lies about Homosexuality? Now comes the Mike Jones stage show? Seriously? You can read a blurb on it at Towleroad.com This seams to me that now Mike Jones is trying to take his 15 minutes and stretch them as far as they’ll go. It was a great steed he road in on but can we please put this one trick pony out to stud?

Do we need a Ted Haggard all singing all dancing spectacular spectacular? Naked B4 God, at first glance it’s just to stretch out a bit more of Mike’s “day in the sun.” So will I go? Well Mike is kinda hot. Maybe they’ll do some hot nude screens, but how hot is it when you know it’s the pastor of New life Church which pressed hard to pass a constitutional amendment against same sex marriage? Well if he was on bottom then maybe.
More about the Ted and Mike love connection.
And more.

My Weekend

I helped a friend move his Mom this past weekend. His Dad recently passed away and friends and family rallied together to move the Mom out of the family’s house and into a more manageable townhouse. It took quite awhile to load up the hugest U-haul I’ve ever seen not to mention 5 cars worth of family belongings.

This event was rattling to say the least on the family as they were in the process of saying goodbye to the patriarch and the house the kids were raised in. Saturday we got over to the new house and everyone pitched in to unload this behemoth of a truck. Once the truck was unloaded I started to unload the Mom’s car, I grab a Crock Pot and a beach bag looking knapsack. I ‘m pretty excited we’re almost done with out major breakdowns from my friend or his two sisters. As I reach the front door I stop and start talking about how great it feels to be almost done. Just then I hear someone scream. My buddy then turns to me as says “You GOT to be kidding me?! Dude that’s my Dad!” I look down into the Crock Pot. He then takes the bag from my hand. Their father’s ashes were being swung around by me inside of a knapsack. The sisters were still recoiling in horror.

So that was my weekend. You?

I have satellite tonight

So I raced home today to meet the Direct TV install guy. I was excited because this is the man that will return to me the world of Logo, Bravo and CNN. Well and maybe because of all the years of watching porn with the “Cable Guy coming over to work in my box.” Wow, Colt so lied to me. I know its not Colts fault. I could never be mad at Colt, but still. My install guy looks like the creepy guy from Goonies.
It’s so nice that he found work after his film career. So this dude starts to talk to me about the “bitchin” NFL channels, this is where I decide that the only thing to do while an unattractive install guy is molesting my Sony is to clean my oven. Dude as I call him is unaware that he will bring The Big Gay Sketch show into my well-appointed living room. Not that the NFL has 849 channels beamed to my dish. It took all of 2 minutes to clean my oven because I’ve used it exactly once to heat up Tater tots. Just as I start daydreaming of yummy baked tots the tunes on the Macbook changed and Cibo Matto's Sci-Fi Wasabi starts blaring. And, yes I started to dance a little, and yes I had a spatula in my hand just in time for Dude to approach me to explain all about the DVR. All chance of saving my dignity where gone. That NEVER happens in Colt not even Titan. But I have Logo and Dude has something to tell the wife. To which she’ll reply, “Didn't you tell him about the NFL?"

Inconsequential Ramble

So accidentally ordered Direct TV tonight. I didn’t mean to, I just went on their site to check out what they had to offer. Oops, DVRing the Big Gay Sketch show. That’ll suck. So for Christmas I got Season one and Two of Dallas on DVD. For my Birthday I got seasons three and four. Thank you Carl. Yeah, I like Dallas the 70’s TV show. I’m sure there are dorky things you do. I do have to pace the watching after I was up until 3AM watching way to much on my Mac all curled up in bed. They tried to make me go to Dallas rehab and I said No, no no.

Since Fuzzy has been working late this week, Harley the Shar-Pei has been hanging out with me on the super squishy ell shaped sofa of love. We’ve been curled up watching Dallas and cruising Big Muscle Bear. I came across of all things a new song by Paula Abdul called Dance like there’s tomorrow, no I did not see it on American Idol. It is really good, Harley loves it and he has great taste in dance music. When he’s not peeing in the hallway.

Today at work was no different then any other I was horribly bored so like every day it seams I had a “conference call” with Frank and Dalton. While we were talking I also googled some new domain names. The first was Stevieb rocks.com which turns into Stevie brocks.com then I did one for Dalton, Dalton in New York.com I used NY which came out Daltoninny.com “Dalto ninny” I found this hugely funny to the point that I could not breathe. Mighty mighty Dalton failed to see the humor in this.

YouTube from the big gay boat

Here's a YouTube vid from the big gay boat. Poor Carl.

Valentine's Day with Mr. and Mrs. Roper

So this Valentines Day Fuzzy was determined to get our heart shaped groove on. I tell anyone that will listen to my ramblings that I hate Valentines Day. It ranks somewhere between grocery shopping and getting anal probed with a traffic cone. But he actually wanted to do something. I hate it when boyfriends want to “do stuff.” So Tuesday I find out that we have reservations at the 17th avenue grill. At 6pm we meet for dinner, I even dressed up, underwear and everything. It’s one of those fancy places that stack their two tops so closes your pretty much eating with complete strangers. As I approach the table I size up our neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Roper to the left and a hip 30ish couple to the right. I think well here comes the Queers to insert our gayness right in the middle. Did I mention that Fuzzy had a huge heart shaped box of chocolates and a oversized bag with tissue fling everywhere under his arm? We slide in and Fuzzy informs me that we should have a great time and that we are going to enjoy this. Well, it’s not like we’re in the hole at the state pen. Our server who happens to be Jan Brady leans over Mr. Roper and asks us what would we like to drink, he orders a riesling I ask for her finest Diet Coke. She then tried to not roll her eyes but failed. I state to her and the Ropers “I thought it was funny” To which Mrs. Roper states, “yes, yes it was.”

Dinner was great; they had lamb, rabbit and veal on the menu. So we celebrate Valentine’s day by eating every cute cuddly creature that Bambie might of frolicked with? As this came out of my mouth the hip girl on my right kind of choked on the bite she was putting in her mouth. I giggled a little. Then kicked under the table and sent the huge heart box fling onto their feet. When it was time to open the bag of tissue Mrs. Roper started to gush. “Oh, I hope there’s a card! That’s so nice, you’re so lucky” I then pull out an amazing silver picture frame with a shot we had done on the gay boat. Mrs. Roper takes this from my hand and holds it in her hand like the Holy Grail. Holds it up for Mr. Roper to see then shows Jan and the gaggle of lesbians in the booth over in the corner. “You look so happy.” I smile and respond, “Yeah, we were on X.” Now that I think of it I did have a great time and I did enjoy it.

Buckingham Square me

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BACK TO LIFE

The worst part about taking a dream vacation is coming back. Spending 7 days with all your closest friends not to mention 3,982 other gays is nothing less then incredible. But as we left that boat the realization of returning home not to mention spending 12 hours on an airplane was a pin to my big gay happy balloon. The best part of the Miami airport was sleeping on the floor, somehow it worked out that Dalton my Ex and Fuzzy my current and myself ended up on the same patch of carpet in concourse C. There were several litters of men sleeping in piles around the airport. It looked like a tasteful, gay Jim Jones had passed out the grape Kool-Aid. If you’ve never had the joy of sleeping on the floor in an airport with the Ex and your new partner I highly recommend it.
Depressurizing has been a challenge; I don’t think I like life without a bass beat. In the last week I’ve reanalyzed that I really don’t understand straight people, like last night. I’m at the Kroger, Krogering and as I am checking out I start watching the bagger wiggle. Why is he wiggling I ask my self? He then blurts out to the cashier “ Look at me I’m dancing!” to which the cashier replies, “You’re dancing like a gay guy!” My ears perk up, what did she just say? He keeps dancing as happy as can be. The cashier then repeats herself. “You’re dancing like a gay guy!” Okay, we’re on! I’m pissed. I’m gonna go off stating that…….. Then I stop and think, she didn’t say anything real derogatory. And well yeah he was sort of dancing like a gay guy would. Just not as magnificent. What should I say? Hey, he’s not dancing like a gay guy, we dance much better! Isn’t this derogatory against straights? Well it would be the truth. So I simply say, If he were dancing like a gay guy he’d have poppers in his hand.

Shaving cream! Yummy!

On Saturday mornings I get to shower with the boyfriend. This last Saturday no different, I end up shaving while he's under the water brushing his teeth. When Fuzzy brushes his teeth he starts to foam at the mouth like a wolf just got released into a field of fluffy sheep. Frothy foam starts to spray everywhere. He's like a leatherman with rabies. So he’s frothing away when I turn to rinse my razor. Since he’s standing under the water I raise my razor above his head just as he looks up, opens his mouth and starts to rinse the toothpaste goatee from his mouth. Now it’s possible that I didn’t rinse my beard stubble razor into his mouth but yeah I’m sure I did.
On Thursday we leave for the biggest gay cruise in history and he’s the lucky guy that gets to spend a week with all this muscle…and inconsiderate jerkyness.

Neil Patrick Harris has Cancer

One of my associates, or monkeys as I like to call them came into my office broken up. Now this happens quite often, some person all rifled up because of something someone did. Sally is late 50ish and everything that happens in the office seams to throw her into a tail spin. I think of the time that the floors were to glossy and were hurting her eyes. She requested that I dull the floor. Today she walks in to tell me that her son was in the hospital and was diagnosed with testicular cancer. I quickly jump into counselor mode. Offer her a tissue and start to talk about her son. She tells me the story of her son’s struggle through the tests and being strong for his wife and kids. I mention that this is not a death sentence. Many people have been faced with this struggle. I then mentioned that Neil Armstrong went through a huge battle with testicular cancer. “And look at everything he’s accomplished.” Sally States “Wow really?” “Yeah and he’s the strongest people I’ve ever seen.” She is obviously relieved, “and to think he went to the moon and back. Well if he can do it I’m sure my boy can!”
It’s just at that point that I realize what I said, What I meant to say was Lance Armstrong. But at this point she is so built up that an astronaut that she obviously admires went through the same thing her son I couldn’t bring myself to tell her it was actually the skinny bicycle rider who wins contests in France . She just happens to have a “Boycott France ” bumper sticker on her car.
So I gave Neil Armstrong ball cancer. Is that so wrong? She’s happy, the son will be inspired life is good, another person helped. Later I tried to retell the story and messed up the names again and gave cancer to Neil Patrick Harris. Cancer for Everyone!

Painting Madness

I found this pic on Big Muscle Bear. I thought you'd enjoy.
Sponge painting?
If you notice you can't see his hands, I think there's a sponge in each hand.

Road to the White House '09

Why is it that I cannot escape the presidential caucuses and primaries?

I turned on the radio in the jeep today just long enough to plug in the iPod, but in that split second I’ve heard a sound bite from Hillary who was “connecting to the people” in a diner somewhere in the mid-west. Meanwhile Barack Obama is “calling for Change.” Seriously has there ever been a candidate that does not call for change? I’m sure that Ogg called for change in the way that dinosaurs were being skinned. Did you hear that the creepy Baldwin (well they’re all creepy) but Stephen Baldwin called Howard Stern last week? Keep in mind that he’s the Baldwin that does all the Left Behind movies. He stated that he agrees with Mike Huckabee’s take on the bible and same-sex marriage, that he would ban it if he were President. If there was a poll, I’m sure that Mike Huckabee would be voted “Most likely to have molested a child.” But hell if the Baldwin’s like him…

Why is that Christen fundamentalists hate Mormons so much? The only reason Huckabee is surging is because they’re scared of Mitt Romney. Is it because there’s a group that’s more subversive then them? I don’t think so. Being raised in the Mormon Church I remember being “taught” that the only thing lower than being black was being Catholic, or Baptist, or Presbyterian or really anything but Mormon. So I guess there’s no love lost.

I’m going to vote Democrat. I don’t really care if the party puts up a 1970 Ford Maverick without the Grabber trim package, no spoiler and a non-working 8track player. I’ll vote for it, it’ll have a better foreign policy then any Republican I’ve seen. So if this is the case why, oh why do I need to see long news stories of what pie each candidate ate at a New Hampshire diner? But on the other hand, the one candidate who keeps being blasted for no foreign policy experience, Barak just called both sides of the Kenya conflict to get them back to the negotiation table after the disputed election left thousands dead. Get her.

Resolutions 2008

Well it’s 2008. This is the week were every news source is doing a 2007 reflective. Can I just watch CNN without having to see Mahmoud Ahmadinejad once again going on how he wants to meet more homosexuals in his country?

This is also the time when I take stock and look back on the last year to see what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown as a man. As I do this I can tell what kind of year I’ve finished. The first on the list was if your out of dishwasher detergent you can not use dish liquid, this will give you the feel of a foam party at your local leather bar, but in your kitchen. Next was, never tell your upstairs neighbor that her dog is getting chunky. She will hear that you called her chunky and give you dirty looks for the remainder of the year. Also, The public Library really does want all the books they gave you back. And The number one thing I learned in 2007 is… If you book a gay cruise in January of 08, all you’ll want is for 2007 to get done so you can get on the gay boat.

My big “New Years Resolution” for 2007 was to…. Something having to do with remembering things. Maybe writing things down. But I can’t really remember. This year I’m going to be much better. Here is my list for 2008:
1. Have a Breakfast Burrito Supreme at Pete’s Kitchen.
2. Stop making fun of guys at the gym that are wearing MC Hammer pants.
3. When I leave the first drive up window but yet have not arrived at the second drive up window to stop looking down at my cup holder and panicking that I did not get my Diet Coke and cussing that the Bas-tards forgot to give me my Diet Coke. Due to the fact that it is in fact always waiting for me at the second window.
4. Stop telling Child Molester jokes to Frank.
5. Upon seeing much more muscular guys stop thinking “Well I’ve got a much better sense of style and a much bigger cock.” It's true but really.
I think that these 5 resolutions will get me through 2008 and my life as it has been lived with dignity will remain in full contact.