oh, btw - Donald - you look frigging HOT today. woof.

hmmm:

Trent Lott makes a racist statement honoring a 100 year old hard-core conservative (Hot Leather Daddy Strum) - that the spin doctors can't spin under the table (OR did they throw it up on the table with garland and all the fixin's to get our mind off something else ? Maybe war with a certain middle eastern country - shhhhh! no one knows were going steady!)

Mikey (Admit it I'm just a fucking FREAK) Jackson dangles his child out a hotel window - yet maintains custody of his kid. Perhaps the kid unleashed the spider on him ?? The press has a field day showering us with the freakish images.

The UN methodically goes knocking door-to-door looking like Amway salesman in Iraq and the American press corps scramble for the "Cliffnotes" version of the 10,000 page "Mommy said we can't come out and play with nuclear weapons today" government document.

Every Catholic Priest, Bishop and even maybe the big guy himself - is molesting young boys - in the present, 20 years ago - I guess even in the future - can you think of a job with less pay and less associated dignity - oh yeah - United Airlines Flight Attendants.

All I'm saying is - and I'm not really saying anything at all (or am I ?) is - what is really going on in the world that these are the only news stories I hear: morning, noon and night ?

ahem...news of my disappearance is greatly exagerrated..

um, kinda.

REPEAT after me:

U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A

yo-U a-R-e the E-nd A-ll B-e A-ll

...hey a little positive affirmation is as good as a slap and a tickle, any day of the week in my book...

Why do people fall for this fucking chain mail crap ?


> >Dear Friends,
> >Please do not take this for a junk letter. Bill Gates is sharing
> >his fortune. If you ignore this you will repent later. Microsoft
> >and AOL are now the largest Internet companies and in an
> >effort to make sure that Internet Explorer remains the most
> >widely used program, Microsoft and AOL are running an
> >e-mail beta test.
> >
> >When you forward this e-mail to friends,
> >Microsoft can and will track it (if you are a Microsoft
> >Windows user) for a two week time period. For every
> >person that you forward this e-mail to, Microsoft will
> >pay you $245.00, for every person that you sent it to that
> >forwards it on, Microsoft will pay you $243.00 and for
> >every third person that receives it, you will be paid
> >$241.00. Within two weeks, Microsoft will contact you
> >for your address and then send you a cheque.
> >
> >Regards.
> >
> >Charles S. Bailey
> >General Manager Field Operations
> >1/800-842-2332 Ext. 1085 or
> >904/245-1085 or RNX 292-1085
> >Charles_Bailey@csx.com


Sure - sure they will, their also offering free head - aren't they ?

A couple of hints.

"Bill Gates is sharing his fortune" - Do I have to even speak these words out loud.

"If you ignore this you will repent later" - WOW, shit - a little heavy handed, but he could have said "Do THIS OR DIE !" - at least thats what I wrote on my Christmas party invites.

Internet Explorer is not a program - it's a "browser". And it actually comes in versions...and SOME people think it's COOL that their still using Ver. 4.0 - sicko bastards.

Microsoft is not (ask Netscape - remember them?) an "internet company" - but now their trying for some of the share. They and AOL don't even play well together and considering AOL is going down the tube (MS even offers a "true switch" service to help AOL users LEAVE AOL) and Microsoft is heavily advertising their "new and improved" MSN 8 (i.e. - Lets grab some fucking market share!)

What the hell is the name of the company that Mr. Charles S. Bailey works for anyway ? I have a feeling poor Chuck here really pissed off some girl (or boy) and has cancelled his phone and email service is enrolling in the Boyfriend Relocation Program.

These three words "Email Beta Test". Sure you might be able to track emails being opened by the hits against your server for images and shit (if you've embedded a 1x1pixel gif to uniquely identify the source tag when it hits your server) - but would never be able to attempt to determine unique users and how many people they forwarded to. $245 bucks a person - woo-hoo - what a genius "customer attrition" program - in my day most blue chip companies didn't want to pay more than a buck a name to develop an in-house direct-marketing database - but these guys will pay $245 a lead. Hmmmm - a universe of 100,000 is decent to test market an email advertising campaign, say I get an 18% response rate - click-though, not closure (I know conservative - but I don't know what the offer even is) - so I would be paying out $24,500,000 for 18,000 unqualified leads. That's just $1,361 a lead. Shit for that fact and assuming I don't know jack about the person anyway, I should just pick 18,000 people at random out of the phone book and mail them certified checks for $1,361 and cut my losses before this project even launches. Crap - I didn't pay anything to "receive" this email and I can already prove to Microsoft and AOL that about 1000 morons have seen it - I'll cut ya deal - I'll forward you THEIR email addresses and full names for just $20.00 a name - I make $20K for sitting on my ass and making fun of them and think of all the postage that you'll save.

uh - I'm waiting.

...what is your challenge,
...where are your weaknesses?

are you strong,
when do you feel weak ?

do you breathe in your flaws
can you drink from my faults ?

...I am weak in my humanity
...I am flawed by my sense of what is right
...I am saddened by my knowledge of what is wrong

Can you find idealic perfection in an unfortunate beast - that can't even look upon itself ?
Can you find hopeful daydreams in a cobalt blue sky - where only the greyest of clouds form ?

I am challenged.
Yet I hope,
I aspire,
Still I dream
of being loved

by You

Can you find it your kind, generous heart...

to love something so imperfect as me.

you fucking bitch. i am so fucking taking you out for birthday drinks and then sodomizing you................

By now you've probably seen the subject of fury and debate over at another bloggers site over a made-up ending to a scenario involving he and a rather effeminate teen with an attitude. I'll save everyone the naming of names - but it serves as interesting reading if nothing else for how heated - a "made-up" scenario made his readers. Buttons were pushed, lines were crossed. So in lieu of commenting on who said what and whose right and whose wrong (let's be honest there is validity to both sides of the story the problem is are we talking about the bigger picture subject "Violence Against Gays by Gays" or the more specific instance of writing a misunderstood joke on your own blog).

The bigger subject is compelling and is something we all (I think) wrestle with.

I don't understand why guys choose to be screaming queers, running around "Sister this, Sister that", throwing wrists around, quoting 'Steel Magnolias' - but I don't have to "understand" - I DO have to accept, though - that it is their right to behave and "express" their homosexuality as they see fit. Sure I'll chuckle to myself and hope they grow out of it - but if someone dared to lay a hand on the bleach blond coif (sp?) I would kick there ass.

"What we stand for" is not represented by what we wear and even what we quote or sing along to (in our out of drag) - it has to do with principles, morals and how we treat each other. I stand for tolerance - until it crosses lines. When some bitchy queen or princess sits at a bar and rakes every average joe or chubby boy over the coals - loudly - wanting to exact some subconcious revenge for junior high school locker room beatings and humiliations - she's crossed the line. What genius to exchange hatred for hatred. I will get right in this little faggots face and explain to them in the shortest of terms - they are out of line - work out your demons somewhere else. I have met some vicious, catty, cruel queens who I wished would be jumped in the parking lot on there way outside of the bar, I have shoved some of them down and threatened to crack their skull - this doesn't make me a better person - but a person with no tolerance for mean, heartless people.

Bravery comes in one form - the ability to meet-head-to-head with knowing conflict out of pure faith and conviction.
Shame comes in many insidious forms. Lies, Self-loathing, Betrayal, Hatred and Violence.
If we endorse "shame" - an emotion that we have let shape our everyday actions as gay men and women (read my previous pre-Thanksgiving posts about "Negotiation as Character Assasination"), then we are endorsing that people lie about who they are, betray family, friends, lovers and themselves with these lies, learn to hate themselves and others through this negotiation of character and finally lash out in violence at those around them to justify the way they have been made to feel inside.

I choose bravery.

I didn't wear dresses. But coming out at 12 and being openly gay in high school I did realize the need to look as different as I felt inside. I chose a mohawk, white hair, blue hair, Dead Kennedys and Depeche Mode, Virgin Prunes and Bronski Beat, Bauhaus and Dream Academy. I wore eyeliner and used ALOT of Aqua Net. Small children cowered and adults looked at me and shook there head - what a horrible young man I was. A juvenille delinquient. My father knocked me around, even my mother smacked me repeatedly screaming the first time she saw the mohawk. But I know now all I was attempting to do was force them to accept me for what I was on the outside - DIFFERENT - so they might learn to accept me for who I was on the inside - DIFFERENT. How funny it is to be standing at a bar and have a guy cruise me who I went to junior high and high school with - the ones who called me fag. Remind me someday to tell you the story about my asshole 9th grade gym coach hitting on me one night at a bar in my 20's. Hmmm - I'll show you a faggot. Then there were those strange girly boys with their Pete Burns or Souixsie-Souix looks who were kind to me - somehow, though our approach was different, we were fighting the same fight.

Question:
If you saw two boys standing on the corner - one cute, muscular, buzz cut, big smile wearing a t-shirt that says "FAGGOT" and one wearing a rabbit fur jacket, capri pants and high-lighted hair - are they fighting for two "different" things ?

Answer:
Simply, NO.

Footnote to the previous post:

A read the post in it's entirety to my boyfriend - it was a wonderful moment between us both - clarifying, authetic and bonding. We will be sharing Thanksgiving together. He actually asked if he could have his mother read this post - uh NO. But it set the wheels in motion for both of us that this life belongs to us - this relationship belongs to us - and these holidays belong to US. Just thought I would follow up. And if your completely lost - I know it's the weekend , so catch up by reading the two preceding posts.

...ok, ok, if you read my last post - let's be up front I was carving out a k-hole (it's amazing I had the will to write), but I was soo caught up in this vision I had that I wanted to squeeze out the juices of it and see if it was drinkable. Overall the idea wasn't bad, but was still inadaquately conveyed in relation to the jumble of words and phrases trapped in my head to describe and relate it. (Tyler and Chad - man, my run on sentences must make your heads spins!)

...anyway - now I have a big steaming cup of black joe and have wolfed down a delicious PB&J, so let me begin again.

Somewhere between bumps and rewatching Laz Burman's retelling of Shakespeares 'Romeo & Juliet' and Oprah (the 1am airing) and 'Longtime Companion' I felt caught up in the emotional action of "suppression".

Watching the modern retelling of the Bard's classic tale of lovers woe you can't help but think that as our parent's children we feel so "duty-bound" to follow some set script they have for our words and our actions. When we so suddenly attempt to force open those doors and live our lives - rebelliously so - as ours, but still subconciously carry such a deepseated need for their approval - we fall into tragic or unfortunate circumstances. No we don't drink lye - or whatever - or hey was it 'G' that Romeo sucked down upon the vision of fair Juliet laying in her mock death bed, but we attempt to negotiate ourselves, our loved ones and our behavior, and as I recall - isn't negotiation primarily used as a tactic in hostage scenarios ?? So are we the 'hostage' or the hostage negotiator ? But it's this sense of negotiation that is tragic, we take so long to accept ourselves as we are - gay men (and women - I really need to start realizing and respecting that I have lesbian readers - sorry 'bout that), that we have grown used to daily negotiations and inconvienences to who we really are to meet the standards of others (family, co-workers, neighbors, strangers).

I mean - do you really think that your straight brother or sister ponders what they wear to Thanksgiving ?? I would wear a tie - but is that totally gay of me, I would wear my favorite tight beaten up well worn green t-shirt - but is that totally gay of me - or hell should I wear the Manhole t-shirt from last Friday night - now really that would be really gay of me - wouldn't it ?? Of course I know the suggestions for clothing are far reaching - but the fact is I HAVE to think about it first. I mean more importantly it's what I'm not bringing to Thanksgiving Dinner - my boyfriend. Somehow - with his family coming in town and my family already here - we just accepted that for all basic purposes - that we would celebrate the holiday seperately. On the day when I most have to ask what I am to be thankful for - one of the most important things is him.

So Oprah was about 'stepping out of your box', overcoming fears, and I kept thinking how can I translate this to these thoughts - well that and come on now honey WHITE WOMEN can come out of their box toooo gurl! -(ok - like I said it was 1am and I was high - I was going along for the ride). So now it's after 1am and my mind is still seeking and I thumbed through my DVD's and decided to rewatch 'Longtime Companion' - well actually first I thought about watching 'The War of the Roses' again to snap out of the funk - but I really, really wanted to ride the K out.

So I'm rewatching Campbell Scott (who really makes a lousy gay man) and Dermot Mulroney (who REALLY makes a great gay man) and the Mary Louise Parker (so baby-faced and young and even then a scene stealer and a potential sub-tier goddess) and I placed my friends faces and names on these people - and as the tragedy of the AIDS epidemic unfolded I thought about being twelve and gay and sexual active and first hearing the strains of "the gay cancer" wafting over a bright yellow school bus radio - I remember the tightening of my chest. I suspect with all honesty I was the only 8th grader on the bus that day thinking he was about to truly die for his sins - well maybe. I had just started sucking dick and it was already going to kill me. I had a FAMILY at the time to go to. BUT NOT A GAY FAMILY - not the family that we create for OURSELVES - those cherished friends and lovers who become friends and friends who become lovers and so on and so on. I didn't have a family I could confess my fears to, tell my dreams to, be honest with about who I really was. I had to ride out this terror that every man I touched was a death sentence alone. What I had then was The Montagues and the Capulets - a family that wanted to only know me and see me as they saw me.

So here I am and movie night has become some greater sense of something that I intended to blog about and put into words - but I kept writing and rewriting and couldn't find this statement.

There is only one true family to share the holidays with ...and it is the family that we created for ourselves.

Personal negotiation is character assasination. Justified inconviences that we take at the holidays - taking down the pictures from the White Party, the one of you and your boyfriend shirtless on a beach - or in a wig, putting away questionable books and movies, wearing this tie over that t-shirt. We box up some of our most treasured and beloved experiences for what - to not make our parents or siblings uncomfortable with who we are ??? It's wrong - it's just plain wrong that we feel a need to do that. And not spending a day intended for giving thanks with the person and the people we love is just plain cruel.


I think I got my thought out, I think I see it right here on my computer screen.

Thanks for letting me share.

Fag
Cocksucker
Butt Pirate
Pervert
Sodomite
Pansy
Faggot
Queer
Sissy

At moments in my life - both grandiose and insignificant, self-effacing and self-involved - I become so enthralled with who it is I'm trying/growing/hoping/pretending/focusing myself to be - that being succcessful, being "straight-acting", carrying on as if I was "normal" - actually seem attainable and pertinent attributes. Through it all perhaps somehow I forget one simple fact - to others - I'm still the 'gay guy' no matter what I say or do. As the holidays crush down upon us - the seperation between gay and straight becomes more evident or for some - more hidden.. We negotiate ourselves, our actions, our being. We become part of that larger family unit created through forced cohesion brought on by the holidays...but we arrive alone to the dinners, or more discreetly with a partner - a friend - in tow...and attempt to not push buttons and boundaries. We play our part as Sons and Uncles, Brothers and Cousins. We smile at our siblings children, applauding their efforts, patting their backs as we schedule bar time after Turkey to make it all bearable. We attempt to feel, even just a little - not out of place. So we forget - or we downplay - who we are - we are gay. We suspend kissing in public, and take down 'certain' pictures, we drop the endearments and push something intangible to who we are to the back of our minds til after coffee and cake. We give a back seat to the men that will be holding our hand when we die - to give the upper hand to a hetero sibling who managed to remember to bring pumpkin pie.

I am a Gay Man.

And somehow through the holidays I manage to be so much more....

I have "family" beyond my bloodline
And I have that to truly be thankful for.

....I feel like I'm at a loss for what I want to blog about lately. A great idea will surge in to my head about my "Top Ten Most Embarrassing Moments Ever" and then it will fade away, I'll write some clever one act play about absolutely nothing - and then decide it'll only humor me, I decide to share a poignant remembrance from the past and then think - eh, it's to whiny. So then I ended up not blogging at all - bloggus interruptus. There's stress all around these days: crushing work pressures, the IN-LAWS coming to town for Turkey Day, the coming together of my own terribly dysfunctional family, all that the holidays bring on and then just the everyday pressures of trying to be a better friend, boyfriend, son, employee, boss. So instead I find myself worrying about why I watch a movie called "Thirteen Conversations About One Thing" and it ends and I have no fucking clue what the "one thing" was ! I sit back in horror that 100 people have died in riots over something as trivial as the 'Miss World' pageant. I read Business Week and feel conflicted that Fox is making headway in his fight to recapture Mexico from the lawless ways of the drug cartel - I mean I don't want kids on crack or poverty or violence at the borders - but honestly I like most drugs. I watch "Bowling For Columbine" (with HER nonetheless) and I laugh and I clap and get choked up at all the write places - but then think - even Mike Moore can "spin doctor" a controversial subject - so where is the answer? I jerk off and think - if I watch "barebacking" porn am I endorsing poor safe-sex practices through my consumer dollar ? My head spins - my though pattern bobs, then weaves, then bobs again...and then I'm wondering if Traci Gold had stayed chubby if she would be still acting today ??

When I grow up I want to be:
A Star Fucker
A Fireman
A Sodomite
An English Professor
A Good Husband
A Bad Boy
A Chef
A Revolutionary
A Spin Doctor
A Porn Star
A Hustler
A Runaway
An Indie Movie Star
A Humanitarian

as always - you - crack me up...and DAMN why a pairing ?? all 4 look good.

i love my husband
i love my husband
i love my husband
i love my husband
i love my husband
oooo' fuck there is still temptation out there....yum,yum,yum........
i wanted to be very very very naughty but i love my husband - though the HOT ITALIAN rubbing up against my crotch made my vision blurry

Ok - when I don't smile in pictures I just end up looking mean or confused....going out to the leather bars with my buddy Mike - picture proof.

.....Breathe.
.....giggle.
.....breathe.
.....giggle
.....BREATHE.

Snuck out of work 45 minutes early today and purchased some sexy lil BR sweaters (why I'm wearing one right now!)
Going to have dinner with my boy and then taking him and another couple to go see 'Cirque Du Soleil' under the big tent, maybe a few beers afterwards.

b-r-e-a-t-h-e.

The work stress has moved from bad to vicious. Overtime just makes room for more work and more mountainous projects. I have to appear in court next month in a nasty lawsuit that has nothing to do with my company but involves an ex-employee of the company (whom I have never even met to boot), I just spent 4 days arguing with the phone company when suddenly and for no explanation we lost long distance service to - only - our fax machine (unfortunately my industry still thinks email is "high tech"). I have 3 quarters of results and papertrail to get to the CPA's, but no time to do it and the owner is leaving for 3 weeks in Europe in just 4 business days. I am stressed. I hung up on the owner of the company in a brief fit of rage yesterday. I sat up with my paperwork and a few beers til 11pm last night - my boy looked on concerned - I'm developing permanent hand marks on my face from constantly burying my face in my hands in digust at all the work to be done. I know, I know....

Breathe.
breathe.
BREATHE.

....uh not only is he back. he's recounting some of the wildest stories I've heard happen to a person since the time I was mistaken for an armed bank robber.

A StarFucks Epiphany

Me (devoid of my morning cup O’Joe) : mumbles incomprehensibly “Moooooooorning”

StarFucks Clerk: perky as all shit (what do they mainline this shit?): “Good Morning to YOU!”

Me: “Yeah can I get an enormous cup of classic irony with steaming hot neurosis and a splash of unresolved guilt?”

SFC: “Ok a Venti Slap of Reality with low-fat humiliation and a splash of deep ceded shame!”

Me: “NOOOO…. I asked for an enormous cup of classic irony with steaming hot neurosis and a splash of unresolved guilt.”

SFC: “OK then…..a Grande sense of no direction, half self-doubt, half poor self esteem!”

Me: “UH….can I just have a cup of black coffee”

SFC: “Sure – your soul please”

Me: "Can you make change ?"