SNOW DAY

Along with being unable to feel my legs from the weekends 40 hour drive, Yesterday was hell driving to work due to our spring weather. It was enough to make me put down my morning beer. I hate that. It was one of those wet and cold spring snows. Here’s the front of Spike the Super Jeep. I was wondering why I couldn't see my head lights, and I thought it was just me.


Whenever a wet/icy snow hits Denver you’ll start to see the crazy people that pop up their wipers. the lot at work was filled with this.Why do people do this? Do they want their car to be picked on by the other cars in the parking lot? This is the car equivalent of wearing Crocs, or trying to squirt your Zune at the gym.

“I don’t wanna have my wipers freeze.”

Well, you do want to destroy the spring in your wiper arm so you get to take your fine Chrysler product for a $200 dealership visit. What happens when there is no Chrysler Dealership? Hu? They’re about to get an Obammaboot up the happy love hole.

Did I mention I’m crabby today? See what happens when I don’t get my morning commute beer?

ALIVE AND TIRED

Well, I made it home alive. I'm tired as F&*%, so this will be short. I thought I'd share a pic given to me by Dalton.




Kinda sums up my out look on life.

Who made Nebraska so fucking boring? Really? More amber waves of grain. Isn't that what Kansas for? How many rolling hills do we need. As you might tell I've gone crazy on our little treck.

Day three. After White Castle we hit a white out. The highway turned to ice, after seeing our seventh smashed car we desided to stop in Iowa City. After a long dinner at The Village Inn I was in the middle of one of my fabulous stories about Coco Peru, when we realized the full restaurant was completely quite. Oops!

This morning we are up and well rested. The roads are still very icy, fifteen wrecked cars so far. But, in a moving van. I'm sure we're heavy enough to stay on I-80. Pray for us. And my hair.

Chicago White Castle

Six burgers, sixty seconds.

Mmmm, White Castle. We're south of Chicago, heading west.

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*I need to mention. I do not condone eating six white castle burgers, then traveling on icy roads in a moving van. I could barely choke down my chips, cookie, sunday, club sandwich, and carrot cake later in the day. Sad really.

Day two, Ohio

Day two. Dawn has broken in Ohio. Only God can help me now.

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A dancer for money

Down in the village, the quite village the drag queens sleep tonight. We stopped by TheStone Wall Tavern. It was dyke jello wrestling night. Seriously. Not a drag queen in sight. We ended our night at The Monster, were I fell for a dick dancer. I'd never had that happen, it must be a thirty-seven thing. I'm sure he felt the same. From across the bar. I feared the pull would be to strong and he'd follow me into to street. Being in his undies, he might catch a cold. I didn't want that to happen to my dago.
Here's a pic of his glowing aura. That, and the lights were very bright.

>

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All in all, it was a fun little outing in NYC. Did I mention I fell hard for Stella beer. Yum oh.

Look. I'm in Brooklyn, here's a pot by Dalton.

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A spring snow. Thank God I'm going to sunny NYC today!

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Less Misrable Moment

When I was a small queerling, wearing rayon, I did something really bad. I don't remember what it was, but it clearly was against some policy at work. The owner pulled me into her office and gave me some advice:

“Your integrity is the only thing people in this world cannot take from you. You can easily give it away….hand it over….but people on this planet can’t steal it from you.”

I live by this wisdom. Given to me two weeks before my boss was hauled off in hand-cuffs. Seriously. But, none the less still good advice. I thought of these words yesterday when we heard that the seventh layoff had occurred. I wandered around for about an hour like Moses in a cubical desert looking for a particular lesbian.

“Uh, she’s been gone for awhile Steve.”

I was told by Dina Shore, the last remaining Lesbos in the cubical ranch. I now sit in an office of fifty empty cubicles, with just Dina Shore the golfing, Alto sax music listening womyn. I decided that we should reenact Les Miserables. Build a barricade out of desk chairs to block HR from coming for Dina. This being said, I wandered around yesterday singing:

“Can you hear the people sing?” About noon, Dina asked why I was singing Phantom. It was around this time I had the urge to Cube-a-Vulture. That’s when you act like a Mad Max character scavenging for water. But with highlighters. But, really is this below me, does this give away my integrity?
I now have twelve new highlighters!

"Guys..... wait for me....guys!"

EXOTIC FAST FOOD or EFF

Hey, it’s just a couple of days until I head to NY. Can I get a whoot-whoot! Yeah, seeing Dalton will be boss, but really I’m in it for the White Castle. I love fast food, just not the kind we have around these parts. I don’t care much for the McD’s, BK’s or Wd’s (that’s Wendy’s….. didn’t work did it?) I go for the exotic fast food. Whataburger or Steak-n-shake and definitely White castle, I drive 80 miles just to eat a Runza.

But, trust me most of the time its salads and apples. Today I got on the scale in the locker-room and was pleasantly surprised. I also saw a random guy in the mirror trying to burn a hole in my Calvin’s with his eyes. I calmly turned around and said “hey” I didn’t think it sounded like Joey Tribbiani. I didn’t say “how yoo dooin?” I just said “hey” as in “hey bud how ‘bout them Colts.” But, or should I say butt… this scared him into some sort of Protestant gilt panic. He grabbed his stuff and bolted. Poor scared Protestant boy, I would of bought him some Wd’s after Fuzz and I tag teamed him.

DENVER SNOW

Welcome to spring! And yet, Denver had its warmest winter on record. Well, we had the lowest snow totals ever recorded in Denver. But, up in the mountains there were records set for the ski season snow. I guess I can’t blame global warming. I’m pretty much bummed, I love snow. I love blizzards and snow banks and I really love it when it hovers around freezing. My favorite part is driving the 4X4 with reckless abandon. Yep, I’m that jerk that zips past you on an iced up road. Sorry, I’m twelve. With the insurance rating of a thirty-seven year old. That being said, Fuzz and I went to test drive a Hyundai Sonata, Limited. I felt like one of those trained bears in the circus. Ya, know tring to fit it's huge furry frame onto a tiny motorcycle. Grrrrrr-bluetooth, Grrrrrrr-leather, Grrrrrrr-can't feel my legs.

Here’s a vid I found on YouTube. Remember the Blizzard of '06? I have no idea who the ingenue is but it looks like their having fun.




Whilst we're on the subject of Denver, wanna Bump?

Jack in the box

A new Jack in the Box opened! Yippy!

CRAIG'S LOVE

More from your friendly Craigslist M4M missed connections site:

Golden Corral manager, Thornton, tonight - m4m

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Date: 2009-03-14, 8:17PM MDT
You are tall and broad and beautiful. You were wearing all black. I kept making jokes to you about eating too much, and exploding, etc... Right as I was leaving, I went up to you and told you that I was wearing the menu. You smiled and told me to have a good night. You are just about the cutest, cuddliest-looking guy around. I wanted so much to talk to you more, and to get to know you. I don't know if you are into guys, but I think you are wonderful.

When I want a man, I often smear the contents of a buffet over my body. If you don't find love over the sneeze guard, try your local thrift store:

Arc Thrift Store today, on Broadway - m4m - 52 (Denver)

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Date: 2009-03-14, 5:15PM MDT
We made eye contact, you smiled at me, near the Jeans aisle. I made some jokes about finding the right size, and buying torn-up merchandise, as long as it was on sale. You said at least it passed the time. You had dark hair, facial hair, a gray pullover shirt, sunglasses on top of your head while you shopped, and you were with one or two females. I kept staring at you. You really are so incredibly beautiful and sweet-looking. I wish I could have talked to you some more. No idea if you are gay or not, but I sure would like to find out. I have silver hair, and was wearing a gray t-shirt, and had shorts on.

"I kept staring at you." is a metaphor or code word. this means I'll be smearing my week old semen on to your Honda's door handle anytime now. Then there's the old deductions move:



To The Guy Who Helped Me With My Taxes on 2/28 - m4m - 26
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Date: 2009-03-14, 1:59AM MDT
It was the last Saturday that they were doing the free tax helping there. I had walked away from you right when you pulled my folder to be done.

Your initials are "BK." And no I didn't make that joke.

I really couldn't stop looking at you that day and still can stop thinking about you. Your eyes and smile. You're quite a handsome man. I really liked your hair color.

I had made a few comments about being impressed with the system you were using and how simple it was to do my taxes.

I'd love to see you again for something a bit more personal, if you're up for it.

Want to exchange pictures soon so you know who I am, in case you don't remember?

Oh, he remembers you. He has your tax information. Do you really want to date a guy who already knows you make 30,000 a year?

FEED ME

The entire day yesterday, I ate a small bowl of oatmeal, three cups of ground turkey, 4 pieces of facon (that’s turkey painted red to look like bacon) two apples, and for dinner two veggie burgers. And before you ask, no buns or ketchup just the puck like burgers, puck like because I over nuked them.

This morning I'm convinced that my iPhone weighs ten pounds. Does your iPhone seem heavy to you? Please say yes. I stepped on the scale and had an extra ten pounds show up. Is my Pod buddy weighing me down?

SODOMITE SNACK CAKE '09

I thought I'd re-post this from last year......





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.

NEW YORK STATE OF MIND

Next Thursday, BFF Frank and I fly off to New York City. We plan on picking up Dalton and heading to the nearest bear bar. Then it’s off to the NY Eagle.


Then, Friday we try to wake up and I talk them into stopping by a White Castle on the way to pick up a moving van. With a Gay Bar hangover and stuffed full of White Castles we load all of Mighty, mighty Dalton’s worldly belongings and start to head west. Goodbye NY! Dalton is headed to Denver. Clean air, the Rocky Mountains, and a low tax rate. Did I mention that the moving van only has two bucket seats?
For three of us.
For three days.
Steve-origami time.
I’ll blog ya, the details of how Frank keeps touching me. Dalton is now dancing around the street of Brooklyn singing:

"New York is where I'd rather stay, I'm allergic smelling hay!"

Ninja kitty Part Deux:



Thanks Lolcats.

YouTube Roids

I sometimes question my coolness level. Then I take a look at my
RECOMMENDED FOR YOU videos on You Tube. At this point I realign my che in the universe.

Yes, there are the nerdy ones like MST3K and a test drive video for the new Audi. About six thumbnails for Dr. Who and every movie that Michael or the Feast of Fools has posted, but then it starts to transition into normal guy stuff. Shoulder Workouts, Pushups, and the latest Killer home chest workout. This moves us right into Muscle worship flicks. Man, remember when you had to buy porn?

I’m pretty sure I spend too much time on YouTube looking at roided up meat heads.

DEAF, DUMB AND BLIND

Over the weekend I was having a normal conversation with BFF Carl and BFF Frank. At some point, and I don’t remember why, I blurted:

“…..that’s horrible, that’s right up there with Helen Keller being dragged off by the Nazis!” Without missing a beat, Carl retorted:
“That diary was soooo badly written.”

Then, Frank added:
“Sssshheze inze thhhhee adeeck” As he slammed his fisted hands together. “

In our circles when something dumb is said, we say, at least you’re pretty. I was downright gorgeous.

On Saturday, we were at Chili’s. A deaf group came in and sat next to us. They were having a great time enjoying the night as were we. At some point the manager felt he had to wander around and invade everyone’s table to inject the fact that he never finished grad school and now is a manager at Chili’s. To us he joyfully injected:
“Good thing you ordered two desserts, one wouldn't feed the looks of you guys.”
I blurted out “did he just call us fat?” As cake flew from my mouth. But, he had already descended on the six deaf diners, Mr. Chili smiled and said:
“It’s awfully quite over here! The food must be good!”
The table stared with awkward smiles, until he proudly moved to the next table. A little pee went down Fuzzy’s leg as he laughed.

On Sunday we went to Subway. Although, the tomatoes were not amused.

PIE DAY

Let’s take today to appreciate Dalton James. He gives us so much, so we must take a day to celebrate the day that Port Arthur, Texas gave him to us.

**Head bowed, quiet pause. **



As you know, Dalton was my partner for 17 years. Okay, 4 whatever. Until he ran away to New York to become a graphic artist. And a cosmopolitan socialite. Puff, puff. At least until the end of March when he gives up the bear party scene to move to little ol’Denver. But, that’s a blog post for next week. Don’t you just love anticipation?





Tomorrow is the Mighty, Mighty Dalton’s birthday. On pie day! 3.14… pie, get it? Yeah, no one does.
So… wish him a great day and if you’re hanging out at the NY Eagle Saturday night, buy him a shot. He’ll be the one with that shell shocked look in his eye that every guy gets after dating me.

*May not be an actually photo of Dalton.

It is, but when I get a head smack I want

to say I put an asterisk next to it.

FROZEN DEAD GUY

Last Saturday we attended the Frozen Dead Guy Days up in frozen tundra of Nederland, Colorado. This is an annual festival to celebrate Nederland’s favorite frozen dead guy. Here’s the link if you want all the facts as to why a small mountain town would have a parade in honor of an elder gentleman who had his carcass frozen. Let’s just say that it’s the Rocky Mountains and in small mountain towns people just do that kind of stuff. And, by that stuff I mean, being Cryogenically frozen. Then stored in a Tuff Shed awaiting flying cars.

The adventure was part of Jerrod’s birthday weekend, to stand in the cold and drink beer. I have to say it was actually pretty damn fun. We found a bar that had a huge gaggle of gays. Much to the surprise of the local alcoholics. At one point a 5’4” mostly drunk , drunk punched Jerrod stating something about fags. Of course one look from Jerrod of “I’m three times larger than you and the four muscled guys next to me are more than ready to step in.” Stopped any bar fight from starting. Man, I kind of wished he threw a punch. Just so I could blog about it. So, here’s a picture of us, standing in the snow, drinking beer. In the snow….did I mention snow? Good times.

HOSPITAL

I spent yesterday at the hospital visiting a friend. Nothing serious, just a hospital stay. It was one of those days where the person sleeps all day and you spend hours watching them drool. There is something about hospital rooms that lullS you in to a catatonic state. The quite beep of the morphine drip, the pastel color scheme. It’s enough to drive you mad.

To pass the time I would wander down to the gift shop or the cafeteria. I love cafeteria food; it has something to do with eating off of a tray. Maybe this has to do with my prison fantasy, who knows. Maybe, it’s the childhood eating at Luby’s. Or, both. As I munched away on my tuna salad sandwich, I realized that I was be visually undressed by a guy across the cafeteria. It was Captain Jack Sparrow, in scrubs. Hot or creepy? It left me perplexed.

I soon decided that my friends’ room was in desperate need for balloons. Just to cheer the friend up I sashayed across the room and mimicking RuPaul declared

“This place needs Mylar! “

And since I didn’t notice the nurse standing behind me, I decided that right then would be a good time to visit the gift shop. That’s when I found Mona. She was a 120year old Jewish gift shop hostess. In a Stefanie Powers wig. I snapped a picture when she wasn’t looking. I know bad Steve, but I wanted to show you how cute she was. This is what Stefanie Powers will look like in 2029. You’re welcome.

Kenmore gods

Fuzzy and I have an agreement. I leave the stove top a “greasy ungodly mess” and he can't change toilet paper rolls. I honestly can’t stand doing anything in the kitchen unless I’m watching him make me a chocolate cake. Seems fair. Any recipes I've used started with, locate your kitchen.

So, it’s not that often that I have a chance to ruin his world by leaving spatter on his beloved range top. But when I get this chance I make it my effort to smear. This gives Fuzzy the chance to relive his college days when he would spend hours buffing out the hood of his Camaro. Yes, he had a tricked out Camaro. I think he compensated for being a music major by screeching around in a hopped up muscle car. So, now he can spend hours after I cook buffing the shine into his baby. While, cursing my name to the gods of Kenmore.

To balance out the universe he has no ability on how to put a new roll of toilet paper near where I can reach it. Zipping through Bach's Toccata and Fugue? Ovation after ovation. Remembering to change the TP roll. Nope. Not that I’ve told him it anything about this. It’s like that quote from the Simpsons:

“I’ve tried everything but talk to him, and I’m all out of ideas!”
So instead of having an adult conversation with him, I think I’ll try this:

From Passive-Aggressive Notes, of course.

Hello, is it Varla Jean Merman you're looking for?

Isn't it time for some Varla Jean Merman?





Or, Lionel Richie. Whatever. Seriously, it there anything this brawd can't do? Well, I haven't seen it. No siree Bob.







She's a Drag Queen. But funny. Check out her site, it will cheer you up. And trust me, you need it.

MANLY CITIES

The Associated Press released a story that ran on Denver's 7news.

No IKEA, a high level of sports teams, and monster truck rallies? Sounds like a nightmare to me. So, the AP just called me unmanly. To which I say:

“Get Her!”


Here’s the list of the Top 50 Manliest Cities:
1. Nashville, Tenn.
2. Charlotte, N.C.
3. Oklahoma City
4. Cincinnati
5. Denver
6. St. Louis
7. Columbus, Ohio
8. Kansas City, Mo.
9. Indianapolis
10. Toledo, Ohio
11. Memphis, Tenn.
12. Richmond, Va.
13. Columbia, S.C.
14. Orlando, Fla.
15. Dayton, Ohio
16. Salt Lake City
17. Milwaukee
18. Minneapolis
19. Cleveland
20. Detroit
21. Jacksonville, Fla.
22. Phoenix
23. Birmingham, Ala.
24. Grand Rapids, Mich.
25. Tampa-St. Petersburg, Fla.
26. Harrisburg, Pa.
27. New Orleans
28. Las Vegas
29. Pittsburgh
30. Philadelphia
31. Louisville, Ky.
32. Atlanta
33. Providence, R.I.
34. Dallas
35. Buffalo, N.Y.
36. Rochester, N.Y.
37. Baltimore
38. Boston
39. Houston
40. Seattle
41. Sacramento, Calif.
42. Miami
43. San Diego
44. Oakland, Calif.
45. Washington, D.C.
46. Chicago
47. Portland, Ore.
48. San Francisco
49. Los Angeles
50. New York

Who knew? Apparently having too many home furnishing
stores like Ikea in your city is a sign of being "unmanly."
At least that's the conclusion of a study released Thursday by Sperling’s BestPlaces that ranks "America's Manliest Cities" on criteria such as the number of professional major league sports teams, popularity of tools and hardware, and frequency of monster truck rallies. Denver came in fifth, New York City finished last out of 50
of the largest U.S. metropolitan areas.

The Family Silver

Remember when Fuzz had to have a talk with me about the Family silver? This is what was really happened.
Oh, it's not safe for work. Or, NSFW. Really, really unsafe for work. In fact if your reading this now at work you should turn your computer off right now........Or just click here.

 

Man, I miss Oz.

A BAD ENGLISH BEAT SONG

When rolling through the profiles on your local man 2 man social site, you see a lot of amazing slabs of man meat. You also see a lot of weird, creepy and just puzzling pictures of gay men in their natural habitat. There’s complete sites devoted to just this phenomenon. I’ve stated this before but honestly I sometimes like these pics better than page after page of hot muscle. A muscled guy in a basement is great, but a muscled guy standing next to a laundry basket full dirty T-shirts whilst a cat desperately tries to escape the shot by crawling out the drier vent, now that’s art.
The Grant Wood of profile pics is the mirror self portrait. When guys suck in their proverbial guts to snap a glimpse of what they would look like shirtless, in the bathroom after losing ten pounds holding a cell phone. DeadRobot said once:
“Don’t these guys have friends to snap a picture?”
Well, I have to admit I have a lot of these pictures, chances are if you’ve had me in your house I’ve got a picture of me in your bathroom mirror. Wearing your fur. Okay, not really but I sooo would. If you had a mink. So, even though I’m sure you’ve seen my BMB profile I thought I’d share the Dork Fest!


This one is from way back. I loved that little phone. I think this was taken at Broadway BodyWorks. If you look close enough, I’m cross eyed. That’s a turn on when you’re cruising.

Am I pretending I’m in the Army? Is this Iraq? Or is that a fifty dollar shower curtain behind me. “Uh, this guy can’t even handle using a camera and looking in a mirror whilst flexing.” Pretty, not smart.


Ooooo look at the hottie! Uhm, I can’t keep my pants on? Still, no cognitive ability to smile at the mirror, sad really. At this point my mom walked in a screamed at me. Just kidding. My Mom doesn't use Axe.

And the latest version, Kitty gonna get that phone. Do they still have Glamour Shots in the mall? I’m thinking that I need to pay them a visit. At what point do I stop and say I’m too dumb to handle the complex configuration of a camera, a mirror and a husky gay man? It took me hours to get my twenty dollar hotel towel to hang like that.

HELEN KELLER

Without going into too much detail let’s set the scene of today’s Stevie tail in a public bathroom stall. During the festivities I decided to blow my nose. As I started to blow I inadvertently sucked in a large portion of toilet tissue into my mouth. I grossed out and started to gag, “Gaaack, gawwwwck, gaaaaaag!”
Then, I tried to spit all the gooey tissue out of my now dry mouth. As I spit and spit and spit I soon realized that my next door neighbor was making uncomfortable noises of his own.
“Uhhh, what the hell are you doing?”
Jesus, the next guy over is barking at me! What do I say? Spitting out toilet tissue? Something’s stuck to the top of my mouth and I can’t get it out? Say "Dude, it got into my mouth!" Damn! Quickly I decided that I was going to pretend I was Helen Keller. Unable to speak nor hear. This means I cannot comprehend the noises I was making and could not hear his question to answer it. I just sat there, a deaf-mute until the disembodied voice, left. Once again Helen Keller saved my life. Is there anything Helen Keller can’t do?

1989

On Sunday morning I went to for coffee at Daz Bog on 9th. I hung out for a while and played with my iPhone. Just a casual Morning, the weather in Denver has been amazingly mild. After spending a relaxing morning I decided to go hang out with BFF Carl. Hopping in the Jeep I sped up Downing, as I got to 11th Ave. I found myself cruising a guy at the corner. He was hot, skinny and young but hot. Then I had a gay flashback. In 1989 I got my first apartment with Ed on this street at that corner. Man, was it really twenty years ago?
“Picture it…. Sicily 1928.”
Eddy and I decided to get a place together. How hard could it be? A tiny studio, it only lasted 6 months but it was my first apartment and my first love. Both, I got evicted from.
The car’s horn behind me was the only thing that got me back from twenty years of memory.
“What happened to Eddy?” I said out loud as I move through the green light. Then I nervously started to laugh, it wasn’t that long ago. It was just yesterday that I stood on that corner wearing my Z Cavariccis cruising guys in Jeeps as they sat at that light.