Showing some Pride
This year I experienced my first “Pride” festivities. Although there was that one time when some friends and I were playing Frisbee and somehow ended up at a festival by accident. This year though I went on purpose, and like a pimp I was riding solo. I had no idea what to expect and as far as I could gather there was going to both be a parade and a festival of sorts(btw what kind of parade doesn't have candy?).
The first Pride I went to was in Austin. I went to where the festival was being held and was a little annoyed that I had to pay $10 (HOORAY YOU ARE GAY!! now give us 10 dollars...). The main thing I instantly noticed was that it is 100 million degrees outside in Austin during the summer (Celsius and Fahrenheit…it’s an anomaly like that). My second thought was, “Damn, this is really lame.” Most of the booths consisted of random churches and businesses and then a few homosexual organizations. Then again I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting (dancing bears and fireworks?) After paying ten dollars though, I was dead set on seeing and doing everything this little festival had to offer (damn i'm getting cheap). First I walked around and got as much free crap from the booths as I could. It didn’t matter John Johnson at 1234 Johnson Drive filled out every application there was. I enrolled in 4 different churches, 2 different insurance agencies, countless petitions one for gay marriage, one against gay marriage, and I even signed up for a free window estimate on my house I had made up for myself (i could use more space but he backyard is to die for). I also decided to do one of those free screenings by a chiropractor to see how my posture is. Turns out I’m dying and if I don’t go to the chiropractor instantly and repeatedly for many months I will wake up one morning looking like a pretzel (chiropractors never lie). After going through and picking up free swag I took inventory. I had about 20 condoms(brown chicken brown cow), three fans, a couple beer cozies, and countless pens and other crap. Oh I also had one balloon, which was given to me with the best pickup line I’ve ever been told(second place is “Woof”). This boy gave me the balloon to which I instantly refused, but he won me over when he said, “It’s so I can find you later at the parade.” Smooooooth. Later I gave it to a little girl who was crying because she dropped her ice cream (hero?). I wonder if that made for an awkward moment later…
After throwing away all that free garbage I was diiiiiieing of hungriness (it had been at least an hour since eating last). After deciding there was no damn way I was paying 12 dollars for a burger and a drink I walked out of the festival and went to Whataburger down the street and ate for like 5 bucks (I’m gay, not stupid). After filling my belly with countless refills of Coke Zero I went back to the festival where I met up with some people I kind of knew a little bit. I walked around with my friend and we ended up signing up for some dating game show. I only signed up because I was promised that they had enough people already and I was going to be an alternate. Also, at the time there was the lesbian version of the dating game going on and like three people and 1 poodle were watching. When the time came for the gay version I found myself called to the stage. Obviously my flowing blonde mane was too pretty to hide from the world and I was given a chair. Unfortunately my competition was a giant drag queen and my friend who I had signed up with. Also as I sat there I noticed that having a giant drag queen on stage attracted quite a large crowd and even the poodle seemed to invite it a litter of other puppies. So there I was, gay for a minute and thrust into the open. I had succeeded at being seen. The dating game went awfully bad. First of all I had no prior gay relationship experience to draw upon when asked questions and secondly I was always following the drag queen. The joke was that the main person was blind folded and if he picked the drag queen he wouldn’t know it. But it was a hard act to follow and made my already glaring lameness quite obvious. When asked whether she/he would rather watch the Sex in the City movie or the NBA finals the drag queen responded with, “I’d like to dribble your balls and then have sex in the city.” My answer was “I’d rather watch basketball.” Mostly because I’d rather do that than anything else, but also because I had no idea what Sex in the City was at the time. In the end I lost to the drag queen which stung a little. Luckily the guy that was blindfolded was fat and ugly and stupid and probably hated ice cream and babies (see not bitter at all).
Later that night I went to my first gay parade and it was…gay. By the time the parade came by it was dark out and the street did not do a good job of lighting the event. Add to that it was mostly people I’ve never heard of in my life waving on the top of convertibles and you get one bored blonde guy. The highlight was when I was standing there and these two ladies came up to me and said, “O M GOD!??! You’re contestant number 3!! You lost to a drag queen!!” (bitches).
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Karaoke Crooner
Hello children, gather around the ol’ laptop it’s story time.
These past 8 months I have been making a conscious decision of trying to be an actual social human being (no more blogging in the basement for me!). It is true that mostly this involves me going places and then standing around playing on my phone, but still I have made great strides. I have met some pretty awesome people (you) and some people who are not so awesome (someone else), but either way they have left me with quite a few stories to tell.
The third time I ever went to the homosexual dance institution just so happened to be Karaoke night. I had already decided that OCH was a decent enough place to hang. It has a sports bar, pool, and darts…pretty much all I need to survive.
I entered the bar and instantly felt stupid because the doorman recognized me already and didn’t feel the need to check my ID anymore. This made me both feel like a barfly and old at the same time. After further delusional consideration I came to the conclusion that they probably don’t check P. Diddy for ID either (I got swagga like that). Anyway…entering the bar I realized it was karaoke night and as with most things in the gay world, I was both intensely horrified and completely intrigued.
I had always wanted to do karaoke and I figured this was another good step in me getting out of the “Comfort Zone” which is a lot like the “Twilight Zone” but with more pillows and less vampires. I made my way to the bartender which I thought was the cutest and ordered myself a diet coke…which he charged me for! This was really throwing a wrench into my “I’m just like P. Diddy” delusion…I was trying to give the bartender my mean mug but his smile was like sunshine and I ended up tipping him 2 dollars for a $1.50 diet coke (you win this round).
Now that I had my drink I needed to find a place to lurk. I had learned from past mistakes and ruled out the inviting dark corner next to the garbage can. Instead I went and stood by the karaoke book and pretended to look up songs. As I stood there casually thumbing through the songs a large man with a truly epic mustache and beard got up and sang “Like a Virgin” by Madonna. With my first choice of song taken (jk) I decided to go with “Say it Ain’t So” by Weezer. I knew all the words plus I wreck at it on Rockband. I handed in my song to the DJ and then ran into the sports bar to get away from the onslaught of show tunes that followed.
Eventually my name was called and I boldly made my way to stage (walk soft carry a big stick). As the
music started I realized I was more nervous than I thought, as I looked down my leg quivered. Luckily it looked more like I was dancing than being a little girl so it worked in my favor. I sang my bacon clogged heart out as the familiar words scrolled across the screen. As I sang this random lady snuck up behind me and squeezed my butt(hands to yourself!). It startled me for a moment but I soldiered on. After finishing I didn’t dare make eye contact with anyone but I heard what sounded like a roar of approval (in other words one guy clapped). Fortunately I had made a fan while I was on stage; unfortunately he happened to be a homeless man who had snuck into the bar. For some reason I was unable to find the words to tell him to bugger off. It didn’t help that he was very polite and was so far the most interaction I had encountered at the gay bar. He first started with a complement, telling me I was by far his favorite singer of the night. I’d like to say I’m above flattery but I’m really not. From there conversation was all downhill. He explained to me in the most lucid of tones how he was happy that he was finally off all his medication (conversation starter). Well not ALL his medication. He was still “taking” weed. Which he prescribed himself (he’s not just CEO of crazy, he’s a client). He was now going to start a website dedicated to his weed business (all about networking). He was also looking for people to move to Hawaii with him so he could start growing weed in the jungle. It all made perfect sense if you were a homeless man who happened to be off his medication, I was rather skeptical.
These past 8 months I have been making a conscious decision of trying to be an actual social human being (no more blogging in the basement for me!). It is true that mostly this involves me going places and then standing around playing on my phone, but still I have made great strides. I have met some pretty awesome people (you) and some people who are not so awesome (someone else), but either way they have left me with quite a few stories to tell.
The third time I ever went to the homosexual dance institution just so happened to be Karaoke night. I had already decided that OCH was a decent enough place to hang. It has a sports bar, pool, and darts…pretty much all I need to survive.
I entered the bar and instantly felt stupid because the doorman recognized me already and didn’t feel the need to check my ID anymore. This made me both feel like a barfly and old at the same time. After further delusional consideration I came to the conclusion that they probably don’t check P. Diddy for ID either (I got swagga like that). Anyway…entering the bar I realized it was karaoke night and as with most things in the gay world, I was both intensely horrified and completely intrigued.
I had always wanted to do karaoke and I figured this was another good step in me getting out of the “Comfort Zone” which is a lot like the “Twilight Zone” but with more pillows and less vampires. I made my way to the bartender which I thought was the cutest and ordered myself a diet coke…which he charged me for! This was really throwing a wrench into my “I’m just like P. Diddy” delusion…I was trying to give the bartender my mean mug but his smile was like sunshine and I ended up tipping him 2 dollars for a $1.50 diet coke (you win this round).
Now that I had my drink I needed to find a place to lurk. I had learned from past mistakes and ruled out the inviting dark corner next to the garbage can. Instead I went and stood by the karaoke book and pretended to look up songs. As I stood there casually thumbing through the songs a large man with a truly epic mustache and beard got up and sang “Like a Virgin” by Madonna. With my first choice of song taken (jk) I decided to go with “Say it Ain’t So” by Weezer. I knew all the words plus I wreck at it on Rockband. I handed in my song to the DJ and then ran into the sports bar to get away from the onslaught of show tunes that followed.
Eventually my name was called and I boldly made my way to stage (walk soft carry a big stick). As the
music started I realized I was more nervous than I thought, as I looked down my leg quivered. Luckily it looked more like I was dancing than being a little girl so it worked in my favor. I sang my bacon clogged heart out as the familiar words scrolled across the screen. As I sang this random lady snuck up behind me and squeezed my butt(hands to yourself!). It startled me for a moment but I soldiered on. After finishing I didn’t dare make eye contact with anyone but I heard what sounded like a roar of approval (in other words one guy clapped). Fortunately I had made a fan while I was on stage; unfortunately he happened to be a homeless man who had snuck into the bar. For some reason I was unable to find the words to tell him to bugger off. It didn’t help that he was very polite and was so far the most interaction I had encountered at the gay bar. He first started with a complement, telling me I was by far his favorite singer of the night. I’d like to say I’m above flattery but I’m really not. From there conversation was all downhill. He explained to me in the most lucid of tones how he was happy that he was finally off all his medication (conversation starter). Well not ALL his medication. He was still “taking” weed. Which he prescribed himself (he’s not just CEO of crazy, he’s a client). He was now going to start a website dedicated to his weed business (all about networking). He was also looking for people to move to Hawaii with him so he could start growing weed in the jungle. It all made perfect sense if you were a homeless man who happened to be off his medication, I was rather skeptical.
Dear Straight Man,
Of the different groups of people in the world I would say that straight men are the most scared of homosexuals. For whatever reason some of them find it very threatening. At their best I would say most straight men are indifferent. I’m not going to even get into the whole psychological reasons for this, because as a straight man…you don’t want to hear it. But there are plenty of reasons why you should be wishing for a day when gay and straight men not only have equal rights but are seen as equal in society.
I’m a straight man. Could of fooled me, but having gay friends has a lot of benefits. First of all, gay men are no threat to your ability to woo a woman. In fact, just the opposite. For whatever reason, many gay men have a lot of straight female friends. How many of your bro’s have flocks of straight female friends? But my friend Steve knows a lot of females. True…your buddy Steve is a chick magnet/slut. However, how many of them has he already hooked up with? I’m fine with sloppy seconds. How many of them does he want to hook up with? All of them. And how many are trying to hook up him? The rest of them. You notice one thing? None of Steve’s friends that are girls are friends with Steve because they want to hook up with you. Funny how that works.
Now imagine that next week you leave your buddy Steve at home to watch World Series of Poker on ESPN and to crush cans with his forehead (this is obviously what I used to do when I was straight). Instead you go out with your gay best friend…uh…Erik (super gay name…Erik). First of all, Erik probably has lady friends. These are going to be females who spend time with Erik because he represents everything they want in a man and is safe, but they are also sexually frustrated because they have no chance with him. Let’s be honest…this is your best chance at anything. Let’s ask the same questions. How many of them has Erik hooked up with? I’m so sure. How many does he want to hook up with? Shoot me now. How many are trying to hook up with him? Goose egg. Have you noticed how there is no competition? That makes the game a little easier and you need all the help you can get. The question is really…why should a gay man want to hang out with you?
I already have a girlfriend, thank you very much. If for some reason you already have a woman you should REALLY be ok with homosexuals. Every straight man should bring their girl to the gay club. She does kind of nag me for never bringing her out. Yeah, well you’re kind of a douche and probably should. Bringing her to a gay club, there is ZERO chance she leaves with another man (unless you’re really bad at this). She has no other options besides you. I hate dancing though. You don’t even have to dance. Go buy a beer and stand and watch. What if some dude grinds her? Uh…he’s gay, it might as well be your grandmother. Ok fine, but what if some chick starts hitting on her? Think about that again. OH MY GOD…she could totally make out with another chick…wait there are lesbians everywhere!! Yeah I knew you’d come around. Fine but I don’t want any gay dudes hitting on me. If someone hits on you, tell them you’re straight. We don’t have pamphlets like you have…we’re not trying to send you to Camp Rainbow and convert you. Also get over yourself
I’m a straight man. Could of fooled me, but having gay friends has a lot of benefits. First of all, gay men are no threat to your ability to woo a woman. In fact, just the opposite. For whatever reason, many gay men have a lot of straight female friends. How many of your bro’s have flocks of straight female friends? But my friend Steve knows a lot of females. True…your buddy Steve is a chick magnet/slut. However, how many of them has he already hooked up with? I’m fine with sloppy seconds. How many of them does he want to hook up with? All of them. And how many are trying to hook up him? The rest of them. You notice one thing? None of Steve’s friends that are girls are friends with Steve because they want to hook up with you. Funny how that works.
Now imagine that next week you leave your buddy Steve at home to watch World Series of Poker on ESPN and to crush cans with his forehead (this is obviously what I used to do when I was straight). Instead you go out with your gay best friend…uh…Erik (super gay name…Erik). First of all, Erik probably has lady friends. These are going to be females who spend time with Erik because he represents everything they want in a man and is safe, but they are also sexually frustrated because they have no chance with him. Let’s be honest…this is your best chance at anything. Let’s ask the same questions. How many of them has Erik hooked up with? I’m so sure. How many does he want to hook up with? Shoot me now. How many are trying to hook up with him? Goose egg. Have you noticed how there is no competition? That makes the game a little easier and you need all the help you can get. The question is really…why should a gay man want to hang out with you?
I already have a girlfriend, thank you very much. If for some reason you already have a woman you should REALLY be ok with homosexuals. Every straight man should bring their girl to the gay club. She does kind of nag me for never bringing her out. Yeah, well you’re kind of a douche and probably should. Bringing her to a gay club, there is ZERO chance she leaves with another man (unless you’re really bad at this). She has no other options besides you. I hate dancing though. You don’t even have to dance. Go buy a beer and stand and watch. What if some dude grinds her? Uh…he’s gay, it might as well be your grandmother. Ok fine, but what if some chick starts hitting on her? Think about that again. OH MY GOD…she could totally make out with another chick…wait there are lesbians everywhere!! Yeah I knew you’d come around. Fine but I don’t want any gay dudes hitting on me. If someone hits on you, tell them you’re straight. We don’t have pamphlets like you have…we’re not trying to send you to Camp Rainbow and convert you. Also get over yourself
Gay bars are rather gay
Now my writing is probably going to be pretty gayed up for a little bit. It’ll be a lot like my old writing but more glittery and if you read it too much you’ll probably turn homosexual. (Sorry that’s just how it works) I’ve always liked writing and now I can share with you some of the stories I have. The purpose of these writings will hopefully show people that it’s just not that different. Also I know some people who care for me are interested in my shenanigans so maybe this will quench that thirst slightly. Mainly though, I like it when people read what I write…I’m an attention whore like that.
Today I’ll share with you the first time I went to one of those homosexual dance clubs. I wrote it then so I’ll just leave it as if it just happened. So much has changed…ok not really.
…tonight I did something for the first time. I went to a gay bar all by myself, like a big boy (look ma no hands!). 2 days ago was the first time I ever went to a gay bar, but that was with a friend. And by friend I mean some guy I had just met who didn’t seem the type to murder me in my sleep (BFFs fo’ life). I didn’t want to go by myself but I decided I needed to stop being a wuss and just bite the bullet and go. Mostly it was because if I spent one more night on the couch I was going to go on a murdering spree, and you would of seen my picture on the news and you’d of been all, “Oh snap I think that guy sent me a message on facebook…I knew he was an ax murderer. I could tell by the way he listed “ax murdering” in his Interests and his Activities.” So I went out. Now that I knew where the bar was I figured what the duck…couldn’t hurt.
Instantly upon entering the bar my glaring social shortcomings came to light. I have no ability to walk up to someone in the club. First off, I need a better pick up line than, “Yo THICKNESS! You gonna let me hit that or what!?!?” Seriously though, it wasn’t like I was there to meet someone, I just wanted to make some friends and explore. The problem with meeting someone at the club is that I want to get to know you. It's really hard to get to know someone though with strobe lights, loud music, and they are slightly in the bag. Basically conversation breaks down to yelling spittle in each other's faces...not exactly ideal. So my big idea...let them come to me. Genius right? I decided for the first time in my life to put out, “the vibe.” Turns out that look, for me, is an odd mixture of “I really have to pee” + “I just peed.” So I scrapped the entire, “The Vibe” plan and I pretty much just stood on the wall like I was at my first high school dance. I don't really drink, I can't dance, and I squint a lot....which makes me look like I'm scowling. To counter act this I decided to stand there not squinting as much as possible. So if you saw a dude in the corner standing next to the garbage can looking like an owl...that was me. SEX EEEEEE! After not squinting for a while I decided what I needed was a drink in my hand. Obviously this was what was keeping everyone from fighting over my phone number. They would see me standing next to the garbage and think, "Wow he looks like an owl...and he has a drink...I want." So I went to the bar to get a drink... Diet Coke. It was free! Realizing that I now had the super power to drink as much free Diet Coke as I wanted, I took full advantage...now that I think about it, I ended up tipping like 5 bucks that night so really I didn't come out ahead, but still I'm going to say I took them for all they were worth. The problem with this plan was that I now became the wide eyed guy standing next to the garbage that also spends a suspicious amount of time going into the bathroom (stud?).
After some time at the bar staring at people and spending more time on my phone looking up basketball scores than I care to admit, I did a loop and I ran into my friend. He was basically the only person I knew who was gay. He introduced me to his friend and now I knew two gay people (100% increase…success). Around the same time a friend messaged me and said I should go to a different club called Rain. Not really being familiar with the area, I had no idea where this Rain could be located but I figured it would be better than standing where I was, feelin’ like a fool. I looked it up on my phone and realized it was right next door…S-M-R-T. For some reason I decided to just take a walk around the block first, and midway back wouldn’t you know it…It started to rain. Of course it was pouring, and I was stuck at a cross walk with nowhere to go, when two girls came up next to me and both had umbrellas. We exchanged glances and I thought I had communicated, “Hey ladies help me out and hold your umbrella over my head while we wait for this light.” But apparently what I said was, “Hey ladies please both stand right next to me so not only do you not cover me with your umbrellas but the runoff from your umbrellas goes directly on me.” I really have to work on my subtle eye contact conversations. I decided to just run across the road, cars be damned (frogger anyone?) only to find that there was a line to get in the bar called Rain. Luckily there was an awning…unluckily the line was just long enough where I wasn’t under it. It didn’t matter though, I was already soaking wet.
Eventually I made it into Rain and didn’t really understand the difference between that and the other bar I was just in. But I bought a diet coke…walked around…decided to go back to the other bar and use the bathroom because the line was too long at Rain.
Then I spent the rest of the night trying to act natural…which of course made me even more un-natural. The only people I talked with were a transvestite with a moustache and a super drunk straight 45 year old woman who told me I was the most gorgeous person she had ever seen. I admit I was still flattered and felt almost good about myself for 10 seconds until she started throwing up in and around the garbage can I was standing next to.
Today I’ll share with you the first time I went to one of those homosexual dance clubs. I wrote it then so I’ll just leave it as if it just happened. So much has changed…ok not really.
…tonight I did something for the first time. I went to a gay bar all by myself, like a big boy (look ma no hands!). 2 days ago was the first time I ever went to a gay bar, but that was with a friend. And by friend I mean some guy I had just met who didn’t seem the type to murder me in my sleep (BFFs fo’ life). I didn’t want to go by myself but I decided I needed to stop being a wuss and just bite the bullet and go. Mostly it was because if I spent one more night on the couch I was going to go on a murdering spree, and you would of seen my picture on the news and you’d of been all, “Oh snap I think that guy sent me a message on facebook…I knew he was an ax murderer. I could tell by the way he listed “ax murdering” in his Interests and his Activities.” So I went out. Now that I knew where the bar was I figured what the duck…couldn’t hurt.
Instantly upon entering the bar my glaring social shortcomings came to light. I have no ability to walk up to someone in the club. First off, I need a better pick up line than, “Yo THICKNESS! You gonna let me hit that or what!?!?” Seriously though, it wasn’t like I was there to meet someone, I just wanted to make some friends and explore. The problem with meeting someone at the club is that I want to get to know you. It's really hard to get to know someone though with strobe lights, loud music, and they are slightly in the bag. Basically conversation breaks down to yelling spittle in each other's faces...not exactly ideal. So my big idea...let them come to me. Genius right? I decided for the first time in my life to put out, “the vibe.” Turns out that look, for me, is an odd mixture of “I really have to pee” + “I just peed.” So I scrapped the entire, “The Vibe” plan and I pretty much just stood on the wall like I was at my first high school dance. I don't really drink, I can't dance, and I squint a lot....which makes me look like I'm scowling. To counter act this I decided to stand there not squinting as much as possible. So if you saw a dude in the corner standing next to the garbage can looking like an owl...that was me. SEX EEEEEE! After not squinting for a while I decided what I needed was a drink in my hand. Obviously this was what was keeping everyone from fighting over my phone number. They would see me standing next to the garbage and think, "Wow he looks like an owl...and he has a drink...I want." So I went to the bar to get a drink... Diet Coke. It was free! Realizing that I now had the super power to drink as much free Diet Coke as I wanted, I took full advantage...now that I think about it, I ended up tipping like 5 bucks that night so really I didn't come out ahead, but still I'm going to say I took them for all they were worth. The problem with this plan was that I now became the wide eyed guy standing next to the garbage that also spends a suspicious amount of time going into the bathroom (stud?).
After some time at the bar staring at people and spending more time on my phone looking up basketball scores than I care to admit, I did a loop and I ran into my friend. He was basically the only person I knew who was gay. He introduced me to his friend and now I knew two gay people (100% increase…success). Around the same time a friend messaged me and said I should go to a different club called Rain. Not really being familiar with the area, I had no idea where this Rain could be located but I figured it would be better than standing where I was, feelin’ like a fool. I looked it up on my phone and realized it was right next door…S-M-R-T. For some reason I decided to just take a walk around the block first, and midway back wouldn’t you know it…It started to rain. Of course it was pouring, and I was stuck at a cross walk with nowhere to go, when two girls came up next to me and both had umbrellas. We exchanged glances and I thought I had communicated, “Hey ladies help me out and hold your umbrella over my head while we wait for this light.” But apparently what I said was, “Hey ladies please both stand right next to me so not only do you not cover me with your umbrellas but the runoff from your umbrellas goes directly on me.” I really have to work on my subtle eye contact conversations. I decided to just run across the road, cars be damned (frogger anyone?) only to find that there was a line to get in the bar called Rain. Luckily there was an awning…unluckily the line was just long enough where I wasn’t under it. It didn’t matter though, I was already soaking wet.
Eventually I made it into Rain and didn’t really understand the difference between that and the other bar I was just in. But I bought a diet coke…walked around…decided to go back to the other bar and use the bathroom because the line was too long at Rain.
Then I spent the rest of the night trying to act natural…which of course made me even more un-natural. The only people I talked with were a transvestite with a moustache and a super drunk straight 45 year old woman who told me I was the most gorgeous person she had ever seen. I admit I was still flattered and felt almost good about myself for 10 seconds until she started throwing up in and around the garbage can I was standing next to.
Top Then things about Being gay
Top 10 things about being gay:
- Free Skittles…it’s true look it up.
- I’m a minority which means I get to say whatever I want about people and it’s ok. Black people like watermelon and grape soda! Women are dumb and Asian people can’t drive! It’s ok…I’m gay. See how that works! (full disclosure, I too like watermelon and grape soda, can’t drive and am pretty dumb.)
- Those things on my shirt are now suddenly fashion statements instead of chili stains.
- Free drinks at the bar.
- I am thought to have an encyclopedic like knowledge of sports amongst my circle of friends. Watch…In baseball points are called “runs.” Impressive…
- My ability to change a tire makes me seem useful. Put on the parking brake fool
- I never have to worry about anyone ever getting pregnant!
- No more being forced to watch shows like Sex in the City or romantic comedies, having to go shopping or gossiping about Lindsey Loh…uh…never mind.
- I learned who Lady Gaga is! Interesting fact…there is no Lord Gaga.
- My unfortunately extremely blonde hair is finally of some use!
I'm gay...now go ahead and tell me to my face
How I know being gay is normal and you’re a jerkass and a bigot for thinking ANYTHING otherwise.
Wait I’m not a bigot:
You see nothing wrong with gay people, you just don’t want them getting married, teaching your children, going to your church, eating by you in public, or in any way showing that they exist. Sorry sir, but words have meanings…you’re a bigot.
Ok but the Bible says it’s wrong:
Even worshiping the Devil is not illegal. I’m not an expert…but I think the Bible is against that too. Also not to be harsh on the good book, but it’s track record isn’t exactly squeaky clean. There are a lot of ideals in there written by humans and interpreted by humans and then taught to other humans…humans aren’t robots, things get mixed up. Not to mention that it doesn’t specifically say anything about marriage being between one man and one woman. In fact Abraham, Jacob, David, Solomon and the kings of Judah and Israel—all of these fathers and heroes were polygamists. There is Leviticus which specifically calls man on man action “an abomination” but if you were to read the rest of Leviticus you might find it’s advice on most matters quite antiquated. It talks about treatment for leprosy, cleanliness rituals for menstruating women…by sacrificing goats, lambs and turtle doves. Also it tells you the way to get the best deal on buying a slave. I'm all for getting a deal, don't get me wrong, but I think almost everyone agrees slavery is wrong…the Bible though not so much. So while the Bible may have a lot of great ideals and morals and stories, there’s no way you should be trying to live your life exactly by a 2,000 year old book. Of course again, this is America. We may still trust in god, but last I checked we kind of built ourselves on religious freedoms.
Clearly it’s a choice:
Anyone who says this is a closet homesexual…period. If you think we chose to be gay then that must mean you chose to be straight, which means you feel the same way about men as I do, it’s just that you CHOSE to date women. Sorry bud, but that makes you gay. You like penis, but you’re a coward, and you chose vagina. You want to live your life as a lie? Go for it. But don’t get mad that I don’t want to do that anymore. I guess I could date girls, live a loveless life, treat her like crap, and eventually end up cheating on her with some dude in a bathroom stall because I’m so desperate for the feeling of love I’ll stoop to any level to receive just a fraction of it. It’s clearly not a choice and if it was, nobody would CHOOSE to be gay. Being gay is hard and in fact a lot of gays TRY to not be gay. I did. I tried dating girls for years and it did nothing for me. I had zero man on man contact for 28 years and I was STILL gay. I can’t say it enough. Nobody chooses to be gay, some gays chose to act straight, but no straight man has ever in the history of the world chose to be gay. You’re a real asshole if you want people to live loveless lives just so that you don’t have to feel weird about two dudes kissing.
Marriage is for a man and a woman, and anything else diminishes it’s importance:
This is the worst argument yet. That somehow marriage is such an esteemed union that two men or two women getting married ruins the value of everyone else’s marriage. Never mind the fact that people on death row can get married. That’s right. I can go around killing and raping babies and if I can find a woman to marry me there is nobody that can stop me. But if I want to marry a man that I’m in love with and been with for years...well that sir is a mockery of marriage. PUH-LEASE…Don’t 50% of marriages end in divorce anyway? I wonder how many of those are gay men and women becoming fed up with acting straight? Do I think a church should have the ability to deny homosexual marriages? Yup, I do. That is their right to do their religion however they want. But does the government have that right? HELL NO! Oh wait, may be we can call it “civil unions” and everything will be fine. That’s the biggest bunch of bullshit I’ve ever heard. What if we had told black people that their marriages had to be called civil unions? How do you think that would go? ANY difference in treatment of homosexuals is outright bigotry.
We can’t afford it:
I hadn’t heard this argument until a few weeks ago and it literally blew my mind. I don’t remember her name and really I don’t care to know her name but there was a woman running for senate or for the house in Wisconsin and she said something along the lines of, “I have nothing against gay people, our state is in a deficit right now and we just can’t afford to be giving out social security to all these new couples.” Really now?!!? Uh….taxation without representation anyone? How on earth can anyone think that it’s ok to say to someone, “We are going to take your money, use it for straight people who are married, deny you those rights, and then tell you it’s too bad.” It boggles my mind the things of which people are able to convince themselves. Also if your arguement is we literally can't afford to give gays equal marriage rights just think of all the money you'd save if you took away the rights from the hetero couples and gave them to the gays...waaaaaaay less gay marriages is all I'm sayin! Shouldn't be a problem right? I mean...it's just fiscally responsible....has nothing to do with anything else.
Don’t ask don’t tell protects gays:
How do you expect a man who can’t even be free to be himself to serve his country? He’s out there DIEING for you! So you can drive your SUV to soccer practice and pick up your kids. Are our men and women in the armed forces so out of control that if they find out their friend is gay they are going to go crazy and beat the crap out of them? Really? How is it that you can convince a man to go out In the world and risk his life for a few dollars, but you don’t think you can discipline him to not be a jerkass towards his homosexual squadmates? We allow women to serve right? So why not homosexuals again? You have made an environment in which homosexuals are rooted out and discharged and you are so afraid of what might happen if you fix it that you let the problem continue. Last I heard there wasn't exactly the worlds biggest line to get into the military, I'd assume you'd want ever able bodied mind that can contribute to join. Or maybe you're afraid Osama Bin Laden will make fun of you? I think he's against gay marriage as well.
The truth is that you being a bigot is creating problems. Normally I don’t give a flying fuck about bigots. If you hate black people, white people, Asians, women or whatever…I don’t care. The reason? Because everyone knows it’s wrong already. Everyone knows it would be wrong to tell a black person they couldn’t get married. Everyone knows it’s wrong to tell a Jewish man he couldn’t serve in the military. Sure there are people who believe all these things, but they are bigots and they are fine with it and they are crazy and nobody pays them much attention. But when it comes to homosexuals bigots get a free pass. A man can stand there and say something about homosexuals and there are too many damn people who don’t give a crap. But you should. Even if you aren’t homosexual, you should care and here is why.
You denying the rights of an entire segment of the population is causing problems and it’s going to effect you. Since going out and meeting people I have to say on a whole that gay men and women have much lower self esteem than straight men and women. It’s amazing seeing gay men going through the same transformation that women went through. NOT because gay men are girls, but because it is the natural reaction to being told
you’re not good enough. In the 50s when you were a young lass growing up and someone was telling you not to stress out your pretty little brain with numbers and thinking, you grew up thinking you weren’t as good as men. The effects of that are still seen today. Women still see a need to convince themselves that they are worth a life by being pretty, and the same thing is happening in the gay community. And you can say until your tongue bleeds that you have no problem with gay people, but if at the same time you are for DADT, against gay marriage, and really anything pro-homsexual, then YOU DO have a problem with gay people. And they sense it and they start to believe it…even if they don’t know they believe it. And this causes problems for them throughout every aspect of their life. Having low self esteem effects their relationships with mates, friends, and their duties in the work place. There is an entire segment of people in this country that are underachieving and you are denying yourself the opportunity to experience what they could come up with. Homosexuals are not weaker, dumber, slower, or in any way less compared to heterosexuals. They could be the next great writer, scientist, inventor, teacher…but you’ll never know if you keep them oppressed. I’m not saying gay men don’t need a back bone growing up. I’m not asking you to coddle them, tell them they are special and whatever bull extreme flower loving liberals come up with. I’m not for “competitions” where everyone wins. I don’t think we need to take 5 minutes out of the school day to hug your neighbor…I just want to be equal so that I can finally tell you how much better I am than you.
Not only that…but they/we will fight back. It’s only a matter of time before one homosexual goes off the deep end and does something crazy. And gay men are still men…even the flaming ones are still men. I promise you that getting punched by a man wearing a dress and glittered lipstick still hurts just as much as if he were wearing pants and a baseball jersey.
Wait I’m not a bigot:
You see nothing wrong with gay people, you just don’t want them getting married, teaching your children, going to your church, eating by you in public, or in any way showing that they exist. Sorry sir, but words have meanings…you’re a bigot.
Ok but the Bible says it’s wrong:
Even worshiping the Devil is not illegal. I’m not an expert…but I think the Bible is against that too. Also not to be harsh on the good book, but it’s track record isn’t exactly squeaky clean. There are a lot of ideals in there written by humans and interpreted by humans and then taught to other humans…humans aren’t robots, things get mixed up. Not to mention that it doesn’t specifically say anything about marriage being between one man and one woman. In fact Abraham, Jacob, David, Solomon and the kings of Judah and Israel—all of these fathers and heroes were polygamists. There is Leviticus which specifically calls man on man action “an abomination” but if you were to read the rest of Leviticus you might find it’s advice on most matters quite antiquated. It talks about treatment for leprosy, cleanliness rituals for menstruating women…by sacrificing goats, lambs and turtle doves. Also it tells you the way to get the best deal on buying a slave. I'm all for getting a deal, don't get me wrong, but I think almost everyone agrees slavery is wrong…the Bible though not so much. So while the Bible may have a lot of great ideals and morals and stories, there’s no way you should be trying to live your life exactly by a 2,000 year old book. Of course again, this is America. We may still trust in god, but last I checked we kind of built ourselves on religious freedoms.
Clearly it’s a choice:
Anyone who says this is a closet homesexual…period. If you think we chose to be gay then that must mean you chose to be straight, which means you feel the same way about men as I do, it’s just that you CHOSE to date women. Sorry bud, but that makes you gay. You like penis, but you’re a coward, and you chose vagina. You want to live your life as a lie? Go for it. But don’t get mad that I don’t want to do that anymore. I guess I could date girls, live a loveless life, treat her like crap, and eventually end up cheating on her with some dude in a bathroom stall because I’m so desperate for the feeling of love I’ll stoop to any level to receive just a fraction of it. It’s clearly not a choice and if it was, nobody would CHOOSE to be gay. Being gay is hard and in fact a lot of gays TRY to not be gay. I did. I tried dating girls for years and it did nothing for me. I had zero man on man contact for 28 years and I was STILL gay. I can’t say it enough. Nobody chooses to be gay, some gays chose to act straight, but no straight man has ever in the history of the world chose to be gay. You’re a real asshole if you want people to live loveless lives just so that you don’t have to feel weird about two dudes kissing.
Marriage is for a man and a woman, and anything else diminishes it’s importance:
This is the worst argument yet. That somehow marriage is such an esteemed union that two men or two women getting married ruins the value of everyone else’s marriage. Never mind the fact that people on death row can get married. That’s right. I can go around killing and raping babies and if I can find a woman to marry me there is nobody that can stop me. But if I want to marry a man that I’m in love with and been with for years...well that sir is a mockery of marriage. PUH-LEASE…Don’t 50% of marriages end in divorce anyway? I wonder how many of those are gay men and women becoming fed up with acting straight? Do I think a church should have the ability to deny homosexual marriages? Yup, I do. That is their right to do their religion however they want. But does the government have that right? HELL NO! Oh wait, may be we can call it “civil unions” and everything will be fine. That’s the biggest bunch of bullshit I’ve ever heard. What if we had told black people that their marriages had to be called civil unions? How do you think that would go? ANY difference in treatment of homosexuals is outright bigotry.
We can’t afford it:
I hadn’t heard this argument until a few weeks ago and it literally blew my mind. I don’t remember her name and really I don’t care to know her name but there was a woman running for senate or for the house in Wisconsin and she said something along the lines of, “I have nothing against gay people, our state is in a deficit right now and we just can’t afford to be giving out social security to all these new couples.” Really now?!!? Uh….taxation without representation anyone? How on earth can anyone think that it’s ok to say to someone, “We are going to take your money, use it for straight people who are married, deny you those rights, and then tell you it’s too bad.” It boggles my mind the things of which people are able to convince themselves. Also if your arguement is we literally can't afford to give gays equal marriage rights just think of all the money you'd save if you took away the rights from the hetero couples and gave them to the gays...waaaaaaay less gay marriages is all I'm sayin! Shouldn't be a problem right? I mean...it's just fiscally responsible....has nothing to do with anything else.
Don’t ask don’t tell protects gays:
How do you expect a man who can’t even be free to be himself to serve his country? He’s out there DIEING for you! So you can drive your SUV to soccer practice and pick up your kids. Are our men and women in the armed forces so out of control that if they find out their friend is gay they are going to go crazy and beat the crap out of them? Really? How is it that you can convince a man to go out In the world and risk his life for a few dollars, but you don’t think you can discipline him to not be a jerkass towards his homosexual squadmates? We allow women to serve right? So why not homosexuals again? You have made an environment in which homosexuals are rooted out and discharged and you are so afraid of what might happen if you fix it that you let the problem continue. Last I heard there wasn't exactly the worlds biggest line to get into the military, I'd assume you'd want ever able bodied mind that can contribute to join. Or maybe you're afraid Osama Bin Laden will make fun of you? I think he's against gay marriage as well.
The truth is that you being a bigot is creating problems. Normally I don’t give a flying fuck about bigots. If you hate black people, white people, Asians, women or whatever…I don’t care. The reason? Because everyone knows it’s wrong already. Everyone knows it would be wrong to tell a black person they couldn’t get married. Everyone knows it’s wrong to tell a Jewish man he couldn’t serve in the military. Sure there are people who believe all these things, but they are bigots and they are fine with it and they are crazy and nobody pays them much attention. But when it comes to homosexuals bigots get a free pass. A man can stand there and say something about homosexuals and there are too many damn people who don’t give a crap. But you should. Even if you aren’t homosexual, you should care and here is why.
You denying the rights of an entire segment of the population is causing problems and it’s going to effect you. Since going out and meeting people I have to say on a whole that gay men and women have much lower self esteem than straight men and women. It’s amazing seeing gay men going through the same transformation that women went through. NOT because gay men are girls, but because it is the natural reaction to being told
you’re not good enough. In the 50s when you were a young lass growing up and someone was telling you not to stress out your pretty little brain with numbers and thinking, you grew up thinking you weren’t as good as men. The effects of that are still seen today. Women still see a need to convince themselves that they are worth a life by being pretty, and the same thing is happening in the gay community. And you can say until your tongue bleeds that you have no problem with gay people, but if at the same time you are for DADT, against gay marriage, and really anything pro-homsexual, then YOU DO have a problem with gay people. And they sense it and they start to believe it…even if they don’t know they believe it. And this causes problems for them throughout every aspect of their life. Having low self esteem effects their relationships with mates, friends, and their duties in the work place. There is an entire segment of people in this country that are underachieving and you are denying yourself the opportunity to experience what they could come up with. Homosexuals are not weaker, dumber, slower, or in any way less compared to heterosexuals. They could be the next great writer, scientist, inventor, teacher…but you’ll never know if you keep them oppressed. I’m not saying gay men don’t need a back bone growing up. I’m not asking you to coddle them, tell them they are special and whatever bull extreme flower loving liberals come up with. I’m not for “competitions” where everyone wins. I don’t think we need to take 5 minutes out of the school day to hug your neighbor…I just want to be equal so that I can finally tell you how much better I am than you.
Not only that…but they/we will fight back. It’s only a matter of time before one homosexual goes off the deep end and does something crazy. And gay men are still men…even the flaming ones are still men. I promise you that getting punched by a man wearing a dress and glittered lipstick still hurts just as much as if he were wearing pants and a baseball jersey.
Halloweenie
The pumpkins are out in full force and I’m looking forward to my first ever gay Halloween. Halloween has always been a mixture of awesome and terrible for me. As a kid Halloween was never as the movies made it out to be. Growing up in the sticks in Northern Minnesota makes trick or treating a lot different. My costume usually consisted of whatever old costumes we had from when my brother and sister were kids. I remember one year I wore a Batman mask and a Superman cape…I called myself Super Batman…I was that clever. Anyway trick or treating in the country kind of sucks. My dad or my step mom would take me trick or treating. If it was my dad I’d sit in the back holding my candy bag as he smoked cigarette after cigarette in the front seat. Houses were sparse so it’d be about 20 minutes in-between me actually getting to trick or treat. When we’d actually get to his friend’s houses he’d get more treats than me. Usually we’d go inside and he’d have a drink with his buddy and I’d sit there hoping that he had a dog to play with. Sometimes my dad’s friends didn’t even have candy so I’d get whatever random things they had in the house. One year I got a bar of soap…every kid’s dream. If it was my step mom driving she’d want to take me even farther into the woods to where she grew up because that’s where “the best” trick or treating was. We’d drive for 45 minutes and go to all the places she used to go…or about 4 houses because by the time we finished those 4 we’d have been in the car for over 3 hours. I remember the first time I went trick or treating in “town” I almost had a heart attack from the amount of candy that I got. I was soooo pissed for all those years I had wasted in the woods trick or treating.
Besides the candy Halloween has always meant one other thing…dances. I remember when I was in either 5th or 6th grade I went to my very first dance. The dance just happened to be at the Linden Grove Town Hall which was only 5 miles from my house so my parents were pretty much forced to bring me. I had never been to a dance before and I was excited. You see there was a girl and I was madly in love with her. Obviously I was a bit confused but still she meant the world to me. I had slyly figured out that she would be at this dance and that was when I decided that I MUST go as well. The problem was that I needed a costume. Being the smooth operator that I am, I came up with the absolute best costume to impress a girl…a hobo.
Yes, as we all know homeless people are the sexiest people on earth and every girl’s dream is to dance with one. For some reason at the time I was fascinated with Hobos. I had just learned what the word Hobo meant and I knew right away I wanted to be that for Halloween. My head swam with ways for me to be an authentic Hobo. “No more cheesy store bought costumes for me!”. I thought to myself. No sir…I was going to be the talk of the town with my authentic Hobo getup. I went through all our old costumes and clothes and I made the best Hobo outfit ever created by mankind. I then stored my garb were the dogs slept so that they would get that optimum Hobo smell (I wish I was making this up). When the night of the dance arrived I dressed myself up in the stinky clothes. I took one of my dad’s handkerchiefs and made myself a bindle and put it on the end of a stick. I rubbed REAL dirt on my face. I actually cut myself a little on the sharp pebbles I was rubbing on my cheeks. I looked and smelled like the world’s youngest Hobo and I was certain that this girl was going to fall in love with me for looking so real.
My dad drove me to the town hall and on the short drive I peppered him for compliments. “I look so real right Dad?!?”, I’d say to him. I remember him saying, “You smell like the dog.” To which I BEAMED with pleasure.
When we got to the town hall I got out and stared up at the doors. For some reason I had the weirdest view of myself as I stood there. In my head I was a dashing and handsome Hobo, standing with muscled arms as an American flagged waved behind me. I was going to the envy of every man and the desire of every girl. Upon entering building the really old 9th grader taking tickets gave me a strange look. I of course recognized it as envy. Soon my friends would show up and we would high five each other and laugh and eat candy. A while later the girls from our grade would show up and both groups would retreat to opposite walls of the dance floor. Finally as I was eating my 11th mini snicker bar I looked to the doorway and this little angel fluttered through. Literally my girl had come dressed as an angel and I remember thinking I couldn’t think of a more fitting costume for her…then doubt crept into my mind. Suddenly my brilliance was flashing before my eyes. As I looked at the angel joining her friends on the opposite wall I saw in my mind’s eye me learning what the word hobo meant…me digging through old ass costumes and deciding they smelled to fresh and putting my clothes were the dog slept…me rubbing dirt on my face, on the very cheek on which I wanted a kiss…then the guy at the door looking at me not with envy…but disgust. I panicked! I dropped my bindle and I made a straight line to the door, and I ran all the way home.
The pumpkins are out in full force and I’m looking forward to my first ever gay Halloween. Halloween has always been a mixture of awesome and terrible for me. As a kid Halloween was never as the movies made it out to be. Growing up in the sticks in Northern Minnesota makes trick or treating a lot different. My costume usually consisted of whatever old costumes we had from when my brother and sister were kids. I remember one year I wore a Batman mask and a Superman cape…I called myself Super Batman…I was that clever. Anyway trick or treating in the country kind of sucks. My dad or my step mom would take me trick or treating. If it was my dad I’d sit in the back holding my candy bag as he smoked cigarette after cigarette in the front seat. Houses were sparse so it’d be about 20 minutes in-between me actually getting to trick or treat. When we’d actually get to his friend’s houses he’d get more treats than me. Usually we’d go inside and he’d have a drink with his buddy and I’d sit there hoping that he had a dog to play with. Sometimes my dad’s friends didn’t even have candy so I’d get whatever random things they had in the house. One year I got a bar of soap…every kid’s dream. If it was my step mom driving she’d want to take me even farther into the woods to where she grew up because that’s where “the best” trick or treating was. We’d drive for 45 minutes and go to all the places she used to go…or about 4 houses because by the time we finished those 4 we’d have been in the car for over 3 hours. I remember the first time I went trick or treating in “town” I almost had a heart attack from the amount of candy that I got. I was soooo pissed for all those years I had wasted in the woods trick or treating.
Besides the candy Halloween has always meant one other thing…dances. I remember when I was in either 5th or 6th grade I went to my very first dance. The dance just happened to be at the Linden Grove Town Hall which was only 5 miles from my house so my parents were pretty much forced to bring me. I had never been to a dance before and I was excited. You see there was a girl and I was madly in love with her. Obviously I was a bit confused but still she meant the world to me. I had slyly figured out that she would be at this dance and that was when I decided that I MUST go as well. The problem was that I needed a costume. Being the smooth operator that I am, I came up with the absolute best costume to impress a girl…a hobo.
Yes, as we all know homeless people are the sexiest people on earth and every girl’s dream is to dance with one. For some reason at the time I was fascinated with Hobos. I had just learned what the word Hobo meant and I knew right away I wanted to be that for Halloween. My head swam with ways for me to be an authentic Hobo. “No more cheesy store bought costumes for me!”. I thought to myself. No sir…I was going to be the talk of the town with my authentic Hobo getup. I went through all our old costumes and clothes and I made the best Hobo outfit ever created by mankind. I then stored my garb were the dogs slept so that they would get that optimum Hobo smell (I wish I was making this up). When the night of the dance arrived I dressed myself up in the stinky clothes. I took one of my dad’s handkerchiefs and made myself a bindle and put it on the end of a stick. I rubbed REAL dirt on my face. I actually cut myself a little on the sharp pebbles I was rubbing on my cheeks. I looked and smelled like the world’s youngest Hobo and I was certain that this girl was going to fall in love with me for looking so real.
My dad drove me to the town hall and on the short drive I peppered him for compliments. “I look so real right Dad?!?”, I’d say to him. I remember him saying, “You smell like the dog.” To which I BEAMED with pleasure.
When we got to the town hall I got out and stared up at the doors. For some reason I had the weirdest view of myself as I stood there. In my head I was a dashing and handsome Hobo, standing with muscled arms as an American flagged waved behind me. I was going to the envy of every man and the desire of every girl. Upon entering building the really old 9th grader taking tickets gave me a strange look. I of course recognized it as envy. Soon my friends would show up and we would high five each other and laugh and eat candy. A while later the girls from our grade would show up and both groups would retreat to opposite walls of the dance floor. Finally as I was eating my 11th mini snicker bar I looked to the doorway and this little angel fluttered through. Literally my girl had come dressed as an angel and I remember thinking I couldn’t think of a more fitting costume for her…then doubt crept into my mind. Suddenly my brilliance was flashing before my eyes. As I looked at the angel joining her friends on the opposite wall I saw in my mind’s eye me learning what the word hobo meant…me digging through old ass costumes and deciding they smelled to fresh and putting my clothes were the dog slept…me rubbing dirt on my face, on the very cheek on which I wanted a kiss…then the guy at the door looking at me not with envy…but disgust. I panicked! I dropped my bindle and I made a straight line to the door, and I ran all the way home.
Besides the candy Halloween has always meant one other thing…dances. I remember when I was in either 5th or 6th grade I went to my very first dance. The dance just happened to be at the Linden Grove Town Hall which was only 5 miles from my house so my parents were pretty much forced to bring me. I had never been to a dance before and I was excited. You see there was a girl and I was madly in love with her. Obviously I was a bit confused but still she meant the world to me. I had slyly figured out that she would be at this dance and that was when I decided that I MUST go as well. The problem was that I needed a costume. Being the smooth operator that I am, I came up with the absolute best costume to impress a girl…a hobo.
Yes, as we all know homeless people are the sexiest people on earth and every girl’s dream is to dance with one. For some reason at the time I was fascinated with Hobos. I had just learned what the word Hobo meant and I knew right away I wanted to be that for Halloween. My head swam with ways for me to be an authentic Hobo. “No more cheesy store bought costumes for me!”. I thought to myself. No sir…I was going to be the talk of the town with my authentic Hobo getup. I went through all our old costumes and clothes and I made the best Hobo outfit ever created by mankind. I then stored my garb were the dogs slept so that they would get that optimum Hobo smell (I wish I was making this up). When the night of the dance arrived I dressed myself up in the stinky clothes. I took one of my dad’s handkerchiefs and made myself a bindle and put it on the end of a stick. I rubbed REAL dirt on my face. I actually cut myself a little on the sharp pebbles I was rubbing on my cheeks. I looked and smelled like the world’s youngest Hobo and I was certain that this girl was going to fall in love with me for looking so real.
My dad drove me to the town hall and on the short drive I peppered him for compliments. “I look so real right Dad?!?”, I’d say to him. I remember him saying, “You smell like the dog.” To which I BEAMED with pleasure.
When we got to the town hall I got out and stared up at the doors. For some reason I had the weirdest view of myself as I stood there. In my head I was a dashing and handsome Hobo, standing with muscled arms as an American flagged waved behind me. I was going to the envy of every man and the desire of every girl. Upon entering building the really old 9th grader taking tickets gave me a strange look. I of course recognized it as envy. Soon my friends would show up and we would high five each other and laugh and eat candy. A while later the girls from our grade would show up and both groups would retreat to opposite walls of the dance floor. Finally as I was eating my 11th mini snicker bar I looked to the doorway and this little angel fluttered through. Literally my girl had come dressed as an angel and I remember thinking I couldn’t think of a more fitting costume for her…then doubt crept into my mind. Suddenly my brilliance was flashing before my eyes. As I looked at the angel joining her friends on the opposite wall I saw in my mind’s eye me learning what the word hobo meant…me digging through old ass costumes and deciding they smelled to fresh and putting my clothes were the dog slept…me rubbing dirt on my face, on the very cheek on which I wanted a kiss…then the guy at the door looking at me not with envy…but disgust. I panicked! I dropped my bindle and I made a straight line to the door, and I ran all the way home.
The pumpkins are out in full force and I’m looking forward to my first ever gay Halloween. Halloween has always been a mixture of awesome and terrible for me. As a kid Halloween was never as the movies made it out to be. Growing up in the sticks in Northern Minnesota makes trick or treating a lot different. My costume usually consisted of whatever old costumes we had from when my brother and sister were kids. I remember one year I wore a Batman mask and a Superman cape…I called myself Super Batman…I was that clever. Anyway trick or treating in the country kind of sucks. My dad or my step mom would take me trick or treating. If it was my dad I’d sit in the back holding my candy bag as he smoked cigarette after cigarette in the front seat. Houses were sparse so it’d be about 20 minutes in-between me actually getting to trick or treat. When we’d actually get to his friend’s houses he’d get more treats than me. Usually we’d go inside and he’d have a drink with his buddy and I’d sit there hoping that he had a dog to play with. Sometimes my dad’s friends didn’t even have candy so I’d get whatever random things they had in the house. One year I got a bar of soap…every kid’s dream. If it was my step mom driving she’d want to take me even farther into the woods to where she grew up because that’s where “the best” trick or treating was. We’d drive for 45 minutes and go to all the places she used to go…or about 4 houses because by the time we finished those 4 we’d have been in the car for over 3 hours. I remember the first time I went trick or treating in “town” I almost had a heart attack from the amount of candy that I got. I was soooo pissed for all those years I had wasted in the woods trick or treating.
Besides the candy Halloween has always meant one other thing…dances. I remember when I was in either 5th or 6th grade I went to my very first dance. The dance just happened to be at the Linden Grove Town Hall which was only 5 miles from my house so my parents were pretty much forced to bring me. I had never been to a dance before and I was excited. You see there was a girl and I was madly in love with her. Obviously I was a bit confused but still she meant the world to me. I had slyly figured out that she would be at this dance and that was when I decided that I MUST go as well. The problem was that I needed a costume. Being the smooth operator that I am, I came up with the absolute best costume to impress a girl…a hobo.
Yes, as we all know homeless people are the sexiest people on earth and every girl’s dream is to dance with one. For some reason at the time I was fascinated with Hobos. I had just learned what the word Hobo meant and I knew right away I wanted to be that for Halloween. My head swam with ways for me to be an authentic Hobo. “No more cheesy store bought costumes for me!”. I thought to myself. No sir…I was going to be the talk of the town with my authentic Hobo getup. I went through all our old costumes and clothes and I made the best Hobo outfit ever created by mankind. I then stored my garb were the dogs slept so that they would get that optimum Hobo smell (I wish I was making this up). When the night of the dance arrived I dressed myself up in the stinky clothes. I took one of my dad’s handkerchiefs and made myself a bindle and put it on the end of a stick. I rubbed REAL dirt on my face. I actually cut myself a little on the sharp pebbles I was rubbing on my cheeks. I looked and smelled like the world’s youngest Hobo and I was certain that this girl was going to fall in love with me for looking so real.
My dad drove me to the town hall and on the short drive I peppered him for compliments. “I look so real right Dad?!?”, I’d say to him. I remember him saying, “You smell like the dog.” To which I BEAMED with pleasure.
When we got to the town hall I got out and stared up at the doors. For some reason I had the weirdest view of myself as I stood there. In my head I was a dashing and handsome Hobo, standing with muscled arms as an American flagged waved behind me. I was going to the envy of every man and the desire of every girl. Upon entering building the really old 9th grader taking tickets gave me a strange look. I of course recognized it as envy. Soon my friends would show up and we would high five each other and laugh and eat candy. A while later the girls from our grade would show up and both groups would retreat to opposite walls of the dance floor. Finally as I was eating my 11th mini snicker bar I looked to the doorway and this little angel fluttered through. Literally my girl had come dressed as an angel and I remember thinking I couldn’t think of a more fitting costume for her…then doubt crept into my mind. Suddenly my brilliance was flashing before my eyes. As I looked at the angel joining her friends on the opposite wall I saw in my mind’s eye me learning what the word hobo meant…me digging through old ass costumes and deciding they smelled to fresh and putting my clothes were the dog slept…me rubbing dirt on my face, on the very cheek on which I wanted a kiss…then the guy at the door looking at me not with envy…but disgust. I panicked! I dropped my bindle and I made a straight line to the door, and I ran all the way home.
hypocrites...
With the surge of suicides it has been a tragic time for young gay men. I appreciate the new found resurgence in bringing gay priorities back into light but I still don’t think we are getting the right message out there. Too often we talk about the outcomes of problems and don’t focus on the causes. It’s easy to see that bullying is a problem, but it really doesn’t solve anything to just say bullying is bad. Light needs to be shed on why this bullying is occurring in the first place. It needs to be made a priority to explain why it is important for society that gays and lesbians be treated as equals, and getting picked on in school is just the tip of the iceberg. Maybe the next gay teen doesn’t take just their own life, but may be they take others with them. What will happen then? It’s sad but it’s easy to see why these youths feel that death is superior to life. Hatred of gays is the last acceptable form of racism and every tragedy that occurs should be made into an opportunity to further the cause of equality.
Let’s face it…kids are dumb. They only know and think what they are told. If you’re told your entire life that being homosexual is not equal to being heterosexual, it has an effect. I was discussing this problem with my brother who is an educated MIT graduate, but he still doesn’t grasp what I was trying to say. It’s a hidden racism that occurs. Nobody but assholes come out and just directly say, “You’re gay, there for you don’t matter.” But by not allowing homosexuals to marry or allowing homosexuals to openly serve in the military you are saying just that! It’s crazy to me that someone thinks there is a difference between saying gay men can’t serve in the military, and saying you can be gay you just can’t say you’re gay. It’s the same damn thing. Don’t ask Don’t tell is a way for the masses to feel better about themselves, but not really doing anything about it. So when you’re young and impressionable it’s both much easier to feel bad about being homosexual AND to pick on homosexuals. How can we tell children to treat each other as equals when grown ups are unwilling to do the same?
Let’s face it…kids are dumb. They only know and think what they are told. If you’re told your entire life that being homosexual is not equal to being heterosexual, it has an effect. I was discussing this problem with my brother who is an educated MIT graduate, but he still doesn’t grasp what I was trying to say. It’s a hidden racism that occurs. Nobody but assholes come out and just directly say, “You’re gay, there for you don’t matter.” But by not allowing homosexuals to marry or allowing homosexuals to openly serve in the military you are saying just that! It’s crazy to me that someone thinks there is a difference between saying gay men can’t serve in the military, and saying you can be gay you just can’t say you’re gay. It’s the same damn thing. Don’t ask Don’t tell is a way for the masses to feel better about themselves, but not really doing anything about it. So when you’re young and impressionable it’s both much easier to feel bad about being homosexual AND to pick on homosexuals. How can we tell children to treat each other as equals when grown ups are unwilling to do the same?
more complaining about gay men
So I’m newly out and about...I've been dating, hanging, chatting, seeing as many gay men as I possibly can. It's much different than I thought and in some ways a lot better. It's also frustrating at times, as even being friends with another gay guy can be unnecessary drama. So here are 11 general life tips that I’m starting to think that more gay men then I’d like to admit seem to need.
Being a bitch is easy to do and doesn’t equal a personality. I’m sorry you’re a miserable person, but maybe it’s because you think overpaying for shoes makes you important?
If you weren’t so insecure you’d probably have an easier time getting along with people.
You’re not going to be pretty outside forever but you can be pretty inside forever...work on that as much as you would the gym.
Get a sense of humor. I know laughing causes you to smile and that gives you those awful wrinkles…try it though, you might like it.
Not everything is about you. Surprisingly things happen that don’t pertain to you at all!
Try seeing things from the other person’s perspective. It doesn’t make you weak…it makes you mature.
If you’re not going to commit to someone don’t get mad that they look for someone that will.
Try doing something nice for someone, it might give you some self worth.
Self medication is not going to solve any problems.
Being the bigger person is not a fat joke…it’s a real way humans get along.
Just because you’ve become jaded about relationships doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.
Quit hating on people different than you. Differences in people is like differences in clothes, and we both know you wouldn't dare be seen at the club wearing the same thing as last time.
Lastly...eat a burger made of meat...you'll like it.
Being a bitch is easy to do and doesn’t equal a personality. I’m sorry you’re a miserable person, but maybe it’s because you think overpaying for shoes makes you important?
If you weren’t so insecure you’d probably have an easier time getting along with people.
You’re not going to be pretty outside forever but you can be pretty inside forever...work on that as much as you would the gym.
Get a sense of humor. I know laughing causes you to smile and that gives you those awful wrinkles…try it though, you might like it.
Not everything is about you. Surprisingly things happen that don’t pertain to you at all!
Try seeing things from the other person’s perspective. It doesn’t make you weak…it makes you mature.
If you’re not going to commit to someone don’t get mad that they look for someone that will.
Try doing something nice for someone, it might give you some self worth.
Self medication is not going to solve any problems.
Being the bigger person is not a fat joke…it’s a real way humans get along.
Just because you’ve become jaded about relationships doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.
Quit hating on people different than you. Differences in people is like differences in clothes, and we both know you wouldn't dare be seen at the club wearing the same thing as last time.
Lastly...eat a burger made of meat...you'll like it.
Gays need to stop trying to be scene, and start trying to be seen.
So it seems that for now the policy of don't ask don't tell will stand here in this great free nation of ours. This is sad news for the obvious reasons but any set back towards progress in me being seen as an equal is not appreciated. It's times like this that I get angry and I want to fight. I want to gather all my gay friends march down Congress and just overtake the capital. Rules and etiquet be damned! I'm tired of peaceful protests...people don't understand peaceful protests, they just think it makes you weak. I want us to go out and fuck shit up. FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT...but of course I really don't. That's the problem. We're damned if we do, damned if we don't. And in reality how are we to blame society for not takign us seriously when we ourselves as a group don't take us that seriously. Too many gay men have become cartoon characters. They act like they think they are suppose to act, they are bitchy and caddy and shallow...they are sheep. I just don't get it. 32 people had status updates today about the new season of Glee...3 talked about the don't ask don't tell. I'm not saying you should at all feel ashamed for posting about Glee on your facebook page. I'm just saying more gays found that more important than a law that effects them directly. Why? I feel like we don't take things seriously enough at times. We all want to be equal but we treat ourselves as not equals. We hang out at gay clubs, and eat at gay friendly restaurants...when I think the opposite should be true. We need to become main stream. We need to invade the bars that are frequented by the breeders. Eat where they eat. Play where they play. Be where they....be. We need to stop seperating ourselves. We need stop trying to be scene, and start trying to bee seen. Parades and festivals are all fine and dandy. They are a great way to celebrate ourselves...but we need to start actually showing the real us to the world. Are gay men really just a group of tanned, toned, and greased up hot bodies? Isn't there more to life than trying to look pretty? We need to start inflitrating the enemy. We are a talented group of people. We are prelevant in fashion, movies, books, art, and music...these are all tools at our disposal to reach the masses, but we only use them to reach ourselves. When we make a gay movie we more often than not make it for gay men. Gay men need entertaining movies about themselves too, but we should be focusing on making movies about gay men for straight men. I think the television show Modern Family is a shining example of how to incorporate gay life without making ourselves seem like a joke. I want the next joke to not be the token black guy...but the token gay guy.
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