Sunday, October 29, 2006

Shit, baby, you got me mesmerized

Damned if sometimes a thing seems kosher in the middle of the night when you wake up with your pajama bottoms stuck to your belly, and then in the cold light of day you think a little more discretion may have been called for. The charming email that follows? Yeah, one of those times. I do receive some small measure of comfort knowing that at least I didn't SEND TO ALL. The sole recipient was a certain someone who gets me/practically is me. And now I share it with you, so that seems to blow that whole second guessing myself out the window. Except this isn't about me, it's about you, darling. I'm your cautionary tale, made flesh. Utilize me.

I wouldn't have guessed...........

....that a 41 y.o. man could still have a wet dream. Huh.

My iPod served up this lil' gem (attached below) yesterday morning as I shaved. I needed you to have it. Don't pretend like this beat doesn't own your ass. That's Faith Evans, bitch.

So, that dream.....insane how I keep revisiting this same man from my youth. I'm sure it doesn't help that he and I had a frank discussion last week, after lo these many years, about my sexuality, his, and how it was terribly confusing for me as a young man that I'd assess his situation in the alley behind a bar and then he'd go home and climb on his fiance. It's not so confusing anymore. To me, anyway. Not sure he owns it exactly. Some people never learn. And some people take decades to learn. Not sure which is worse. Lord but he does still hold some power over me, hence the nocturnal emission in middle age.

We were laughing and joking walking home from a bar. As we cut through this little town square he shoved me into the grass. Wrestling turned into that kind of kissing where you're so desperate it's like you're trying to breathe in his soul. There was traffic noise and people on the sidewalk nearby as I flipped him face down, talking all kinda dirty, gasping smack into his ear while I gnawed on his neck, and dry humped his big round ass until I came myself awake.

Does that actually happen?

Mesmerized (Freemasons Remix).mp3
Seriously, would you have guessed you could cum yourself awake? Now I'm a little more concerned about that whole "if you die in your dream, then you really die" thing. Plus, isn't an orgasm sometimes called "the little death"?

And on the topic of words made flesh, if you wanna see what the verb form of bristle looks like, check out Lynn Cheney in her interview with Wolf Blitzer. I never gave sister a thought before, but in those few minutes she shows the face of many of those in her lofty circle. Bush et al are absolutely appalled that the common folk are starting to spit out this shit they've been spoonfed. And what the fuck is she wearing?

ADDED: I pulled this down because, on second read, I found it crude. And I started to worry that waking up spunky might actually be a sign of some disease process. Then I realized half the shit I post is rude, and the other half a manifestation of my disease, so, it's back!

Friday, October 27, 2006

If I'm laden at all, I'm laden with sadness

Michael J. Fox Talks To Katie Couric

I know I haven't been blogging much lately. Not sure if anyone's around this joint much, but for those who pop in, I thought I'd make it easy for you to check out the eloquent and moving plea for reason and honest discussion made by Michael J Fox following the ridiculous accusations made by Rush Limbaugh. Class re: ass.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Home, where my love lies waiting

When Nureyev went back to Russia, he said, he was accosted by an old woman who asked him, "Where is home for you?" And Nureyev said: "Home? What is home?" And the babushka replied: "Where someone waits for you."

from Andrew Holleran's Grief

Monday, October 23, 2006

Tell it like it is

Barney and Bill on Larry Craig and gay Republicans

Barney Frank tells it like it is and he's telling you that if you are a closeted gay in the Republican party, you are fair game. And if you are a Log Cabin Republican, you need to check yourself and really consider what you're doing in two weeks time.

That said, I can hardly wait to pull the lever for democracy.

link via Towleroad

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Tie a napkin 'round your neck, cherie, and we'll provide the rest

This video straight up freaks me out. Yeah, costumes. You gotta know that to be hired at her Bedford estate, Martha requires immigrants to provide her with a newborn for use as pie filling and turkey stuffing. Bitch knows babies are chock full of stem cells.

Heads up, y'all. Amy Sedaris is gonna be baking her Lady Baltimore Cake with Martha on Monday's show.

Friday, October 20, 2006

My capillaries scream, there's nothing left to feed on

I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been kinda nervous for a very long time. Probably longer than you've known me, now that I think of it. I'm in a constant state of anxiety. Here's a little physio lesson for you. There's a phenomenon in the human body called the fight or flight response. It was useful evolution-wise for survival. I suppose it still is. Through hormones and the nervous system, lots of things happen to your circulatory, nervous and digestive systems when you're in a state of nervousness or arousal. Sometimes, in the environment we humans find ourselves in today, those responses can be considered inappropriate. As a result of my constant state of alert and the concomitant effect on these systems, my digestion has never been stellar and my nipples have been erect for as long as I can remember. Or at least since the late 90's. No, seriously. If we ever meet, I invite you to check it out.

I just felt like sharing today, lambs. I'm off to the salon. Ta!

Tale as old as time

We're well into the FALL season and I've been meaning to post about my new faves, but suffice to say: UGLY BETTY. Watch it. Love it. Be it.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Will your love ever be mine?

I'm one man doing the work of three this week. For context, I should explain that normally I'm one man doing the work of an easily distracted teenaged girl. So now you can imagine how harried. Still, and in the spirit of said teen girl, I feel the need to alert my lambs to some FREE ROBBIE on iTunes, another enchanting bit of soullessness from his forthcoming Rudebox.

Friday, October 13, 2006

In this proud land we grew up strong

Most of us grew up strong because of the fortune of a lucky birth. Everybody reading this right now hit the lottery by virtue of where we came to be. Not so for many born in Africa, where there are areas with fully 30% of the population infected with HIV. Bono and Bobby Shriver have started this movement, (RED), that will raise money to save lives in Africa. I was moved by much of what I saw on the Oprah today. One thing stood out, though. Every day, two 9/11s. Every month, a tsunami. I don't think that comparison in any way detracts from those tragedies. It drives the point home, though. Over 100,000 people die in Africa every month from treatable conditions and complications related to AIDS, TB and malaria. We HAVE the drugs.From the (RED) Manifesto:
We believe that when consumers are offered this choice, and the products meet their needs, they will choose (RED). And when they choose (RED) over non-(RED), then more brands will become (RED) because it will make good business sense to do so, and more lives will be saved. (RED) is not a charity, it is simply a business model. You buy (RED) stuff, we get the money, buy the pills and distribute them. They take the pills, stay alive, and continue to take care of their families and contribute socially and economically in their communities.
The holiday season is coming up for much of the world. We're gonna buy stuff anyway. Why not buy (RED)? Buying one (RED) t-shirt will provide drugs to prevent mother to newborn transmission of HIV for 18 women? That's a no-brainer, y'all.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

It's hard to beat the system when we're standing at a distance


Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer

 I'm not ready for this shit. It's cold as hell here today. And now with the verchacte snow in October? Yes, that's the view from my backdoor (!) and yes, if you enlarge the picture (!), that's snow (?). It is kinda pretty, I must admit. Makes me wanna stay home and wax my ski. I mean skis. Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Come out, come out, wherever you are

Did you know it was National Coming Out Day today? What better time for me to share something. You guys? I'm gay. I know, I know, you're plotzing, but if you really think about it, it's not like there hasn't been clues all along, right?

Coming Out is something that is done over and over for some of us, isn't it? I'm one of those people who is OUT, but with qualifications. My family knows I'm gay. Most of my friends know. I'm sure the people I work with have some pretty strong suspicions, but we have never discussed it. But if all the fix-ups I'm getting are any indication, most of my clients at work have no idea. What's worse, though, is this is a very small and conservative town. Claustrophobic even. I know everyone here, and thanks to my business, practically every third person I see in a 25 mile radius. No, really. And with all of them, I pretend, with varying degrees of success.

For a long time I've realized that a closeted existence is toxic for me, but it's only been recently that I've really considered the implications of this life/lie for the whole tribe and society in general. As with gay American Jim McGreevey and now Mark Foley, very public outing only serves to make something seem shameful when it's not. And add fuel to the fire of those who would keep us marginalized.

One thing that has never been a secret is my ardor for the dual-monikered composer/pianist/house flipper/actor/former porn star Gus Mattox/Tom Judson.Now THAT list qualifies him as a true Renaissance man in my book. All you other bitches are just pretenders. Did you know he also writes his ass off? Really good stuff and he has some interesting things to say about the Foley scandal. And he's pointin' fingers, guys. Tom is laying blame squarely on the shoulders of those not OUT, or those OUT TO SOME. Those like me, and brotha makes a strong argument. Here's a snippet:
Look, if every gay person in America came out tomorrow gay-bashing and homopobia would virtually disappear. I'm going to come right out and say it: closeted gays are directly responsible for homophobia and anti-gay sentiments in this country. Yeah, I know it's a hard thing to come out. So is advanced calculus. So is raising a family on a Wal-Mart salary. So is losing one's husband to AIDS. But you know what? People do it every day.
I'm workin' on it. I sent two forthcoming emails today. More in the pipeline. Baby steps, darlings.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

One season following another

last gasp

Boy howdy did I work out in the lawn and garden over the weekend. And it wasn't a moment too soon as I was incredibly lazy about doing that this summer. Lazy by my standard anyway. I was still puzzlingly, frantically obsessive compared to most, I guess. NO. WEEDS. EVER. We had a gorgeous fall day with temps in the 70s so I mowed and trimmed and pruned (which of those sounds more naughty I'll leave for you to decide) to my anal retentive heart's content, clad in shorts and skinny-t for what may be the last time this season.
Posted by Picasafull bloom (click to enlarge her..she's bitchin')

Do you love this praying mantis as much as I do? For whatever reason, a praying mantis is like a lucky totem for me. Like she's the cricket to my Mulan. OK, OK, I just like to pretend I'm Mulan.

Monday, October 09, 2006

That's what happens when two worlds collide

So Friday night I finally met up with one of my favorite peeps from the interweb. Jen, of You Would Think fame (and who puts the Oh! in Ohio over at Freakgirl), and I had a lovely dinner in beautiful downtown Dayton. She's so cute and teensy and after a few awkward moments (OK, maybe ten) we hit it off famously. There was good food, good beers, sparkling conversation, and then we totally did it. No, I kid about that last part. We didn't do it, and that despite the fact I had THE jeans on. The ones that make even straight guys (like Kinsey ONE straight guys) need me to put it inside them? Those. So, yeah, she's a serious lesbian. But have I mentioned how cute? She had a tie on, y'all. But all crisp and put together...very ELLEN Collection. And even though she's my vast intellectual superior, she couldn't have been sweeter. I only caught her giving me the "oh, you poor stupid boy" look maybe twice. Nice night. What did we talk about? The gay agenda, of course. Duh. My one regret is that it took so long to meet up. You know, cuz it's too cold for shorts and sandals so she missed my best attributes.

Saturday, October 07, 2006

Why you sleepin' with your eyes closed?

You know I'd see this film even if that necessitated flying to a coast, but as it happens, it's coming to lil' ol' Dayton, Ohio. Holla NEON Movies! Come with? (Decidedly NSFW) By all means check out the uncensored trailer for a funnier, if decidely more graphic, take on the movie. It's everything you need to get through the next two years of George Bush. Can a recommendation get any stronger?

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Maybe I'm the faggot America

I finished Jim McGreevey's book last week. I'm not gonna suggest you rush out and buy it, but for me it was a worthy read. Even when he's confessing, McGreevey's style is tres political double-speak (I take the blame and yet, given the circumstances, can you blame me?). Still I think it's a worthwhile read because he is unflinching in his portrayal of the damage done to oneself and others by leading a closeted life. He also comes clean about all his shady backroom campaign dealings; the Pay-To-Play shenanigans that apparently underly all politics in New Jersey. Although he stops short of taking all the blame for his personal and political compromises, he shines quite an unflattering light on himself and then suggests he's making a new start, standing in his big, gay, American truth.

One thing about his book (and concurrent book tour) that has surprised me is the vehemence with which he's been received by many in the gay community, certainly many of the prominent blogs. While I'm not advocating that he be canonized or anything, I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt as he comes out, comes clean, and tries to make amends. I know, I know, I'm a sucker, but if someone says they are trying to live an authentic life, and in doing so they fess up to all the seedy stuff, then I'm gonna err on the side of trust and acceptance. Maybe because I've lived a good portion of my life tangled up in lies, I'm more understanding and forgiving of the fucked up ways a person acts when they are dealing with some complex psychological coping mechanisms. Of course, I never went as far as he did. I never married. And the hetero sex I had was always kinda fun, though not completely honest. (Yes, you heard me right, Oprah. Contrary to what your hairdresser tells you, a gay man does not need to tape Jake G's picture on his headboard in order to fuck a woman). Anyway, I'm not condoning McGreevey's actions. He hurt a lot of people, most especially two (!) wives. I just kinda get it. What I don't get are the people who so unflinchingly dismiss this book as an insincere and flagrant public relations overhaul, without even reading it. The ultra-conservatives will do a great job of painting that picture. Do the gays need to add their brushstrokes? He was weak. He was cowardly. He admits it. Why so cynical, pets?

If nothing else, it's a good cautionary tale for how unsatisfying and toxic a closeted life is bound to be, even when the door is just one of those flimsy beaded numbers like they sell at Pier One (holla Mr. Foley!).

Oh well, I'm now on to my next selection in what appears to be my Fagola Fall Reading List. That wasn't by conscious design. That I know of. I'm a few pages into Andrew Holleran's Grief (link at right). Ummm, this one isn't gonna be so terribly uplifting either, is it? Next one has got to be lighter, if not straighter. Anyone read the new Augusten Burroughs?

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

You may shoot me with your words

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou

Very Oprah, I'll admit, but I enjoy it. Too rah! rah! for you? I like the I Will Survive vibe, myself. Shocking, huh?

On a personal note, I have a cute story. I know I'm not big on the divulging around these parts, but in my ongoing quest for authenticity (again with the nod to Oprah....sowwy), I spoke with my parents this weekend about the changes I'm aiming to make. Yes, yes, I'm a grown-ass man...a 40 y.o. man (OK, yes, 40+...bitch), but my professional life is intimately tied to family, so this will be disruptive and I felt the need to discuss it with them, if not the need for their imprimatur. Anyway, I expressed my feelings of mild to moderate desire to move, to change, to start over, to be authentic. First there was silence. Then they suggested that I'd feel better in the morning. Then my Mom recommended I join a club or fraternal organization. So you think I can find a boyfriend in the local Kiwanis? And since Sunday, I haven't heard shit from either of them. They are lovely people, I swear. This is actually making it easier because it's making me realize they aren't so much interested in what might make me happiest as in what might keep the family peace. I get that. It might just make me think BIG BOY thoughts and look out for myself instead of always being the GOOD SON. Look what that's got me.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Fo' shizzle my nizzle

OK, I think this is the most fun I've had in a few days. Or maybe forever. You know I'm gangsta anyway, right? Well, even for me it's not always easy to say just what I wanna say. It's hard out there for a pimp 'n all. Head on over to Gizoogle and do yours! (via)