MEGATRON

And we’re back…. Whoo. Thought the Christmas break would never end. Days sleeping in, having fun with friends. Thank God that’s over. Well, next Monday anyway, I went into the office yesterday. Yeah, tumbleweeds started blowing across the lobby. Today I work from home, typing in the nude. Love it.

We took the tree down in record time this year, about twenty minutes after we came home from Christmas. Mostly because we needed the floor space, also because I get really depressed when seeing a tree sans its pressies, speaking of which here’s Steve countdown list:
Let’s countdown Steve’s top five best but, incredibly nerdy Christmas presents….
5) Two words: Carpenter Jeans
4) A red T-shirt with the word COMMUNIST printed across the chest.
3) Season eight of DALLAS the TV series
2) A Police Call Box print T-shirt
And the number one pressie...
1) Transformers underwear, with MEGATRON printed across the ass.

And before you start asking for a photo essay of Steve rump inscribed with Megatron, I’m not that kind of girl….Okay so I am. Yes! Stop asking I put them up later…

I hope y’all had a great time of it. What’s the plan for New Years anyway? Are you hosting one of your famous parties? Can I come to your house and eat all of your shrimp cocktail?

Christmas Evie

*NSFW*

Rocky Mountain snow

There's nothing like a Christmas Eve, eve snow.

Uploaded by www.cellspin.net

HOCKEY, GAY HOCKEY

Dalton and I went to find something to do in our town.



And we're very sorry...making you watch this. I will not happen again.

ASTI SPUMANTE, YOU AND ME

Last Friday I did something I only do once a year. Not leaving the house. Not for breakfast, not for the gym. Amazing. Instead, the Sweet Baboo and I laid upon the super-squishy elle shaped sofa of love and watched every Christmas movie on the DVR. An entire day of Christmas movie mayhem, Well that and old Doctor Who. Poor Fuzzy had to switch from Olive, The Other Reindeer to The Genesis of the Daleks. Without a word of pain, that truly was a Christmas Miracle.

We were hosting our fantastic Christmas Soirée on Saturday and really needed to rest up, at least that’s what I told myself when I started thinking that Friday was trap and lat day at the gym. But, really when do you get a day to spend super quality time with your homosexual life partner. To hell with my dumbbell shrugs.

The big party last Saturday went great; it seems people had a lot of fun. But, cheap champagne will guarantee a good time. If you consume enough of it; man I love Asti Spumante. The only thing to make it better is to drink it out of a paper cup. Heaven. I took a lot of pictures, and then stared at my camera for two minutes wondering how the camera was going to get them on the web. When I turned to ask Dalton how photos appear on Facebook he suggested that the first step would be to put down my drink.

Today starts my two day work week. Man, I fricken love Christmas.

DESKTOP FRIDAY

What's been on your neighborhood Stevie B's desktop this week?



A co-worker walked by my cubical this week and said "Well, nice Christmas photo."

HAUNTED HOMES

My latest addiction on television has been the British show Haunted Homes. It’s a reality show centered on psychic Mia Dolan and how she helps normal everyday folks with really loud, ugly wallpaper come to terms with their haunted houses.

Every episode has a new family terrified of their own house due to a ghost that walks the halls and disturbs them as they sleep. I watch it because every episode has a new family living in complete denial of the hideous decorating skills. It makes me wonder, are their no wallpapers steamers in the UK? It’s like Lady Diana put up some jewel-tone boarder in 1995 and every house wife in a semi-detached followed suit.

Sorry, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, ghosts. Good show, I love Mia. When she’s all crying trancelike I just want to hug her. That and it’s hosted by a little gay boy in leather. It’s on the Fine Living channel in the US and ITV2 in the UK.

FUN IN TWENTY DEGREES

We went to Zoo Lights at the local Zoo. For the hot chocolate and to hang out in twenty degree weather with friends. Jerrod took a great photo...



I have to say this is the best picture of me that I've seen in awhile. I'm thinking I'm just going to start wearing a burka. I'd start posing for pictures all the time.

STOCKING STUFFER

“Can you call my phone?”

I hollered this up the stairs last Friday night. I couldn’t find my phone all day on Friday and was just recovering from cold sweats and the shakes. Not being connected to the interwebs for the day had taken its toll on me. I had been constantly scratching my left wrist while rocking back and forth. All the time wondering why my baby hadn’t gained any weight. Now it was time to look around the house. Again.

“Yes, just call it.” I snapped, wondering if Lassie had it this hard.

I turned and went to dig through the dog’s food bag, the only place that I hadn’t looked. Dragging my hand to the bottom of the bag I suddenly turned to the face the dog. He had a look of either guilt from stealing my phone or of confusion from me molesting his food. Then, the theme song to the TV show Dallas started to waft through the air; quiet at first then growing louder. I turned to the Shar-pei and he said, “That’s your phone!” As I turned to run towards the sound of my beloved. Halfway up the stairs the only sound louder than my ring tone was Fuzzy declaring;

“Oooh, what’s this!”

As I entered the bedroom the only person more crestfallen would have been Anna Karenina as she spied her lover being sent off to the front by a younger woman. There in Fuzzy’s left hand was my phone in his right was a huge box of fine chocolate. The chocolate I had purchased and hidden in the back of my underwear drawer for his Christmas stocking.

Last Thursday I bought a great box of his favorite chocolates excited to see him discover them in this stocking on Christmas morn. I guess I was so caught up in the guilt of hiding things when I placed my phone on the box and shoved the whole thing under my underwear. I then spent the next ten minutes trying to explain that NO, I did not hide the chocolate and phone as a romantic game.

“Sugar butt. Thanks for assuming that I’m that clever. You know me; I’m just not that smart." True.

THE ANNUAL CHRISTMAS RANT

Ahh, mid 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 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.

DESKTOP FRIDAY

What's been my computer's desktop photo this week you ask?




I found it here. It's Tokyo right before a Godzilla attack.

GROWLLL GAGK

When I leave for work the better half is still peacefully dreaming away. All warm and happy with the dog. This makes me really want to fuck with his head, sometimes. Mostly I tell him I love him and to have a great day, sometimes I go a little mental.

Today was one of those days. As I leaned over to kiss him I growled low into his ear, then deeply growled Gggggggrrrowllllged, awwwwrgh grooooooolg.
I guess he was a little more awake then I thought because he said in a normal voice.

“What are you doing?”

"Uh…….saying I love you in Wookie….Growlll gagk.”

There was complete silence as I finished with my gym bag. Then I heard through the dark.

“Your Jedi powers are useless on me; I’m not telling you what you got for Christmas.”

And that folks is why we love the guy.

GAY HOLIDAY ZOMBIES

I was in the middle of my monthly trip to The Container Store for holiday organizing. I do love things to put things in. OCD? No, I just love the canned veggies alphabetized in the pantry. There’s nothing wrong with that.

During my visit to the plastic box store, I had to “hit the head” or use the room of rest. When I was complete with my task, I washed my hands. My wet hands being held out in front of me I circled around for the paper towels. Realizing I looked like a zombie and being alone I started moaning:

“Towels…..must have towels….Arrrrgh! Arrrrrrrrh!”

As I staggered towards the paper towels to attack a nice, normal little queen unsuspectedly came into the bath room. With a look of confusion, bordering on terror on his face. I quickly dried my hands whist humming the song being played on the over-head. A mix of White Christmas being sung by a gay zombie. Just to make him think that I was singing that the entire time.

Then I ran.

If you hear rumors of gay zombies cruising the bathrooms at The Container Store, that was just me.

TYPE of FACE

Found on Towelroad.com

I'LL NEVER LET GO KELSEY

I’m sitting on the couch t’other day. I flip onto a TV channel that has Kelsey Grammar in Victorian clothing and a stovepipe hat dancing around. He’s also sporting a small crippled child on his shoulders. They appear to be having a grand time singing about how they love Christmas. Like a NAMBLA Christmas. They are soon joined by a of 19th century London dance troop. They proceed to jump about in a flurry of fake snow. All happy Scrooge like.

Meanwhile my other half is clicking away on the laptop on the couch next to me. He looks up..

“What’s this?”

Without missing a beat, I inform him it’s titanic.

“I forgot Kelsey Grammar was in that.”

And looks back to the Macbook. If you see Fuzzy can you causally work into conversation how you enjoyed Kelsey Grammar as Jack in Titanic? It would help me out. Thanks.

I’ll never let go Kelsey!

DESKTOP FRIDAY

From like...my total BFF ever...like.. Dalton. Check out his newest stuff here.

A TEXAS STATE OF MIND

What’s a Metroplex? Out of the blue a co-worker came to my clubhouse of a cubical and asked. Well…trying to remember my Texas past. A Metroplex is the name coined for Dallas and Fort Worth, Texas to describe the scope and vastness of the metropolitan area. It’s now used for other huge cites where other cites and suburbs have merged into one area.

The remainder of the day I sat homesick for Texas. Weird. I couldn’t wait to move away from the Lone Star State and here I was “homesick.” Maybe it started a couple of days ago when Dalton and I were at a restaurant and the table next to us was talking about their home town of Beaumont, Texas. Just up the road from Dalton’s Port Arthur home town. Maybe it has more to do with my recent addiction to season seven of Dallas the TV show. Probably.

No matter why, today I’d give anything to be standing on Cedar Springs or Montrose avenue. Just saying.

MY HOLIDAY HAMBURGER

Let’s not discuss why it happened but last Friday, the biggest Christmas shopping day of the year I was at Super Target. At six AM. Buying frozen White Castle hamburgers. I was sporting sweat pants, pillow marks on my face and sweat shirt that may have been on backwards.

As I approached the check stands to wade through the hundreds of sleep deprived holiday shoppers I started to think twice at my need for frozen fast food themed burgers. But it was too late to turn and paddle upstream. I stood in line like Janeane Garofalo in Whoville. Quickly my turn came, I placed my box of frozen meat onto the belt right after Edie McClurg’s “grandbabie’s toys” and waited for the story about how Mrs. McClurg is finally going to see her babies to end with the cashier so I can pay for my little bit of heaven in plastic wrap.

It was my turn.

“Did you find all of you holiday special deals today?” She cheerfully questioned, not looking down.

“Yes. Yes I did.” Watching her face change as she noticed what she had to ring.

“Well….great. We all have to eat.” As I turned my head sideways like a dog trying to read The Catcher in the Rye.

She handed me my receipt like she was dealing with a subway bomber. A look of total contempt, trying to figure out why a healthy Christian would be there buying something other than presents for his wife and kids. I suddenly had an urge to scream out that I was a Jew. But, that would leave an image that non-gentiles have bad eating habits. I couldn’t live with that so, I just smiled and went to fight the traffic out of the parking lot.

TIME GOES BY

Happy December! Can you frickin believe that it’s December first? 2009 kind of zipped by, now it’s almost 2010. Well, my ’09 resolution to eat more fried food was easy to keep. It’s always good to make a resolution that’s attainable. Be realistic, that’s what I say.

Last night Fuzz and I were digging for more holiday plastic crap in the garage. Somehow in a tub of Christmas, I pulled out a VHS tape of my road trip to Washington, DC for the 1993 March on Washington. Hell, it’s only been sixteen years. I of course would have not owned a VCR in five of those years, but Fuzz keeps one in the bed room. His best porn isn’t on DVD.

After watching this relic I realized that I’ve really grown into my nose. Man I was creepy skinny back then. Creepy skinny and LOVED denim sleeveless shirts and braided leather belts. Come on, it was, 93. My shoulder length hair was set off by my stone washed Levis and Act Up T-shirt. I wonder if in sixty years time my descendants will watch this and be amazed that their forefather was a complete man- slut. That and why he always wore those rainbow colored rings around his neck. Some sort of popular jewelry of the time, maybe?

Mmmmmmm Turkey

Last night I lay in bed wondering how to drive to work. I hadn’t been there for a week and I couldn’t remember the highway exit. I found it, damn. So ends another Thanksgiving holiday.

Here’s a picture of our soon to be devoured turkey…



And here’s a picture of Fuzzy, after hours of cooking and eating the turkey….



On Thursday Fuzz and I went to a friend’s house. Being the cool/hip lesbians that they are it was held in their massive turn of the century barn they’ve turned into a performance art space. When we arrived at the farm we found people from all walks of life mingling with the help from great music and great wine. We hung out with a hip and trendy tattooed minister and a gay couple that insisted everyone did Ready-Whip shots. I despise and loath Thomas Kinkade but, it did seem like a gay Thomas Kinkade painting.

So here’s how we spent the remainder of the weekend.

Turkey sandwiches...


Well……and some gun oil…..for my gun.

DESKTOP FRIDAY

This is what's been on my desktop this week. Does anyone know where this is from?



I've found it here: majakovskij and it f%$kin rocks! Can you tell I'm trying to find more комиксах from ВО ВРЕМЯ ХОЛОДНОЙ ВОЙНЫ?

YOU PLUCK A CHICKEN

This guy…..



was arrested this week for allegedly shooting his own son. There is nothing like a well arched brow. Maybe the kid was playing with his tweezers.

----------------

On another note same deal, just a year later...

STEVIEB GETS SAUCY

Fuzzy’s Parents are coming over to our home for Thanksgiving dinner on Friday. Our second Thanksgiving as we’re heading to Frank’s house after I watch hours upon hours of parade Thursday morning. This meant we spent five hours in the local Kroger last night shopping. Krogering. Me, with my printed out list for cheesecake and Fuzzy going off his brain power. The same brain that’s been trying to memorize Messiaen’s La Transfiguration de Notre Seigneur Jésus-Christ.



It was fine, with the screaming children and Moms with bad hair. Until, we got to the cranberry sauce. This is when my homosexual life partner asked if I preferred the jellied can kind or the canned jelly kind.

Steve turned his head sideways.

“Um…you get what your parents prefer.” I said hoping that would be good enough. “Where you raised with the kind that you have to dislodge from the can?”

“What do you want?” Fuzz pressed for an answer. “We’ll get what you want.”

“Well, I was raised on the sauce that looks like the can it came in. Like The Franklin expedition celebrates a holiday. I now prefer Fresh Cranberry Compote…. ginger… Orange zest…” The look in my partners eyes trying to make cranberry compote in his head, made me realize that canned sauce may save this man from a total mental breakdown.

“Or…yummy canned sauce!” I shouted with glee.



*Note to Steve*
Learn how to make cranberry compote for next year.

See I’m a Gay, ya homophobe!

Don’t ya just love those lazy weekends? Dalton and I went to see the local gay hockey team wipe the floor with the straights. I shot some video so, I spent some of Saturday editing. Hopefully it will be up soon. Later on Saturday I was at the gym when a random guy came up to ask if wrestled at Oregon State. My first thought was “what the hell are you talking about?” Until I looked down and realized it was printed across my chest. Oregon State Wrestling. Now my first response is to say “I stole it from an ex boyfriend.” But, he was some random guy and being the only gay in the gym decided to stutter on about dead lifts.

Turns out he was the head coach of Denver’s rugby team the Denver Harlequins. When he asked if I played rugby I mentioned that I tried out for a team and love rugby but, he would not let me play for him as I’m the only gay in the village. I tried out for a Gay Rugby team. The Denver Wildfire. A gay rugby team.
“Great team!” He responded. “We have Frank, Jim, and Scott playing with us.”
“No, no I can’t play on your team. See I’m a Gay, ya homophobe."
"Yeah, we do joint practices with the Wildfire, You looked familiar."

Okay, the gay part didn’t happen…..outside of my head. But, I was recruited by the head coach to try out for Harlequins. That’s something. That and I watched a lot of Little Britain over the weekend, in case... you couldn’t tell.

DESKTOP FRIDAY

What on StevieB's desktop this week?




Take a walk around Kozyndan.com
Thanks to Dalton for the pic!

TWO GAYS IN BED

I got a call from the other half yesterday. “I’m siiick. I’z gounnnin homz.” Which means he was sick and heading for our bed with a Shar-pei close behind. Poor guy, I stopped and picked up some food and went to tend to his achy head and stuffed-up nose.

When I got to his side, I made him close the Macbook and eat some take away. I got him excited that a new Netflix movie arrived and we could hang out in bed and watch a movie. That plan was quickly squashed when I realized that the movie wasn’t the 2006 movie No Regret but, the 1969 collection of Doctor Who, The War Games series. Which he can’t stomach on a good stomach. In the end it did work out, he felt it was so boring it put him out for the remainder of the evening.

BUNNIES!

Have I mentioned how much I hate WORD VERIFICATION? But, not as much as having Viagra ads crammed into every hole in the universe.

This is going to be a Non Sequitur post as I’m not really awake yet.

Bunnies!

I was driving home last night and since we’re in a rural area I was on a stretch of county road with fields on both sides. I saw a blur run from across one of the fields heading for the Jeep. I quickly spotted it as a rabbit, a huge frickin cotton tail bunny. With a death wish. I was sure I hit it; I looked down and saw that he had turned to not get hit and was running along side of my Jeep. Like he was trying to yell something to me. “Tatonka! Tatonka!” Well after a couple of seconds of amazement I wasn’t gonna let no bunny beat me in a race, so I floored it. Teach him to chase cars. Ah, nature. Can I live in a gay ghetto now?

Mars!

Has anyone seen The Waters of Mars yet? Anyone? Beuller? If you don’t know what I’m speaking of, it’s okay. You’re not geeky enough. Speaking of Geeky, I watched the launch of the space shuttle Atlantis on Monday. It’s mission to take replacement parts and worms to the space station.

Dullest mission ever.

Furnace filters and worms? Like a trip to the hardware store. I did watch it via the Towelroad blog, and when I called over a co-worker she saw the banner add and asked if the gays have their own NASA department. I said yes, because I think that would be a cool rumor to start.

“Gays are trying to launch a satellite to destroy the sanctity of marriage!”

Coffee!

Okay, we’re done with our Non Sequitur post. Fueled by the broken coffee maker in my office. My drag name, right now would be Miss Ann Thrope. Have a great day, watch out for bunnies and have you checked out the L shape Window blog? Take a look.

Cagney & Lacey

This was taken on some cruise somewhere... I thought it was fun. Until someone pointed out that Jerrod and I look like Cagney and Lacey.





Oh Mary Beth.

THE GREAT CHRISTMAS TREE DEBATE

I can now say that the Great Christmas Tree Debate is over. For this year.
When you’re coupled off the best part of having a relationship, other than the connubial rights is having someone to go with you to bring home a Christmas tree.

When a was a little fagglette, I dreamed that one day I would have a big hairy guy to drag the taped-up cardboard box from the basement and put our little tree together piece by piece. In our well appointed house with its name-brand appliances. Okay, I was that “type” of little gay boy. Sue me, as I grew older the only thing that changed is that hauling your tree up from the basement is not nearly as romantic as going out to the wilderness and chopping down a fresh, live tree. When I lived in Dallas, I drug Dalton through hours of Texas mud, to find just the right green symbol of Christ’s birth to axe murder. Oh, the smell...the smell. You could just smell the season in the air.

It came as a shock last week when the other half calmly stated,
“We should just buy a tree…yeah know… to have, then we don’t have go get one from a cold lot from a registered sex offender, just to have it die on us?”

Blasphemy!

And so started the great debate, real or fake plastic. Oh, the tears and the high pitched whining. The endless crying. Begging. The non-stop begging. It was just embarrassing.

Nothing worked on that man. But seeing as we have a healthy relationship we soon came to a compromise. Beautiful and real one year, gross, dumb, fake the next. See compromise.

Last Saturday, we walked out of the Uber store with one amazing 12 feet ready to assemble symbol of our harmonious life. We had to get 12 feet tall, because anything shorter would just be a cop-out. What? I’m a size queen. For trees that is.

DESKTOP FRIDAY

This is my new favorite photo, meaning it's my desktop picture...



It was this...



I found it here.