Category Archives: Friends

She’s No Lady, She’s My Wife

Let’s face something right now: I probably would not have even started a blog if it weren’t for Rebecca.

I won’t go as far as to say she made me to it, but she encouraged me to and I love that I caved to her wishes. She also got me to join Twitter and helped goad me into that entire Facebook vortex (George’s description, not mine – though he is 100% correct).

If she has her way (and Jon too), and I get a new MacBook, you might see vlogs here. MIGHT. That is months away, unless my PowerBook gets hit by space debris falling to earth.

Morty, Jon and Dith get some exposure here, but Rebecca probably gets a bit more. I don’t mean to play favourites, but she does have a novel (!) and actually has provided me with some great bits to use here.

I waited for a few days for her to post this – but she didn’t, so I am claiming it as my own – though it is totally hers. Except for the writing and posting part. She provided the link. But really, that is about 67% of it – right?

It is nice to see that lesbians don’t have it all together, like they are usually portrayed. It is usually us pansies that get the bad rap for homosexuality. We put things in places they allegedly do not belong. I mean, except for Morty George.

You can certainly read the article, but I’ll just tell you now the highlights are:  lady same sex marriage, getting ‘all liquored up’, brother’s semen, turkey baster, and attempted forced insemination.

Whooo-hooooo.  Liquor in the Front, Gamblin’ out Back!!!!

Seriously, how tragic…….and yet hilarious.   Yet I’m sure come election time, it will be a reason for the Right to campaign to repeal same-sex marriage in Massachusetts.

And as it turns out, this is a post Becky could have never written.  She lives to close to this, what I can only assume is a double-wide.  Those “gals” could come over and do some major damage to her if they ever found her.

I’m assuming they’d hold her down and draw some new eyebrows on her as their revenge.

Song by: Lyle Lovett

Mr. Sandman

I have this friend, Sal. Honest.

He’s not like lame sitcom dialogue, in “I have this “friend”, way.” He’s an honest to g-d living, breathing, human being. He lives in Philly. So maybe he’s not “living”. For g-d’s sake, he lives in a town that has a National League team! ewww.

Anyhoo, we were talking the other night and he starts laughing. Like many of us do while on the phone, he was multi-tasking. With Sal, that means going on-line to look for…well…..some might call them ‘dates’. Most would call it, a ‘hook-up’ or ‘bootie call’ or something.

Let’s call it what it is;  he was cruising on-line.

I know which site he was on, but won’t reference it here. Let’s just say there are legitimate aspects to said site – not that finding tail isn’t a legitimate aspect. But they have articles and information about lots of things. But that’s not what Sal was looking for/at.

So why was he laughing? Because of this profile:

Visit me in upstate NY expenses paid-jerk me off with pliers, sandpaper, and steel wool, burn my dick, beat my balls, and ream my pee hole with an electric drill, send a private message!!


Actually, Sal had me laughing so hard reading it, I made him promise to copy the text and email it to me – which is why and how you have it right this very second.

At first I thought he was making it up, but really – who could do that? It fell off his tongue too easily to be fabricated on the spot. Our conversation deteriorated right into me asking him to ask the guy what grade of sandpaper would he require. Sal shot back with, Palm, Orbital or Belt? He actually sent the guy a message – to which the guy did not seem to get the question. Or the joke.

There were some things about fiberglass too – on our end. Well, we thought it was funny. Maybe it had just been a long day.

So, naturally I knew this would end up here eventually, but I shared it with my trusted email group beforehand. It ran the gamut of comments actually. Jon had the best worst ones – ones I am not willing to share here. Let’s say he gave me the same initial reaction I had when Sal read me the posting: to cross my legs and cover my genitalia.

If my sex life is vanilla, so be it. I don’t need a Brillo pad or a Dewalt power drill to spice things up. Why anyone would wanted to do that to their schwing-schwong is beyond me.

Dity of course, cursed us for our conversation. Not because of the graphic nature, but because Gooooogle started sending her ads that said . If you haven’t noticed, Yahoo, Google and the likes will tailor their ads to what you’re writing or reading. It is so 1984.

Anyway, back to Sal’s potential suitor:

On one hand the ad is completely sick and twisted. But on the other, it is an all expense paid trip!

Song by: Linda Ronstadt, Dolly Parton & Emmylou Harris


Becky already posted her picture that she took on our way to lunch the other day. Now, you have mine. (as always, click to enlarge)

It seemed funnier when I took it. Becky liked the chin hair on the gal guy.   Of course we would have liked it to say:  Feathers. Sequins.  Plunging Necklines.  …and then there are the women’s outfits.

But you work with what you’ve got – and nothing says “men’s” skating like “attitude”.  Style goes without saying!

Song by: Sarah McLachlan


Believe it or not this has nothing to do with ropin’, ridin’, and whatever else one might do at a rodeo, save staring at cowboys in chaps.

But no, this has nothing to do with that either.

My sister (or one of them, I should say), is selling their Isuzu Rodeo via Craigslist. A side note: 12 years or so ago I had one of those trucks too – and it was one of the best vehicles I ever owned. I should have kept it.

Neither here nor there though. This is one of the responses she got back from her ad. You actually have to click on the image for it to embiggens. I don’t think you can read it otherwise.

Names & email addresses have been changed to protect the innocent…..or the weird.

I got the email from her right before having lunch with Becky and Andrew on Saturday. I passed the iPhone around the table and we laughed and laughed.

My response back to my sister was:  hold out for a 12-gauge.

Song by: Garth Brooks

Old Friend

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of dining with world state county famous author, Rebecca Flowers.  She being in town for her father’s birthday; me just being in town for my every day.  She is one of my oldest (not in age) friends….and one of the best.

Becky was staying a posh-like hotel that had little air conditioning and no cold water – just scalding. This is how the rich and famous live apparently. It is a life I’ll never know, as we can’t seem to get more than tepid water from our spouts. But I do imagine getting 2nd degree burns while trying to brush your teeth in that environment.

Becca had to remind me that we had stayed in that same hotel before. Morty, Becky, Dith and myself. I had totally forgotten. I remember being at her parents, then mine, while Becky was at a wedding reception at the country club where my parents belonged (did you follow all that?). Naturally after that we ended up at a gay bar. Those poor girls and what they had to endure for and with Morty and myself.

I remember Morty being drunk (duh) and putting a dollar down some random guy’s pants – and me going back in and retrieving it.

Poor Mr. Becky, just sitting there listening to this story while we tried to eat our lunch.

Oh – there were other stories too. Houston. New Orleans. New York. Even Dallas, a trip of which I was not apart (“nice car!” “yes, you mentioned that last night!”). Mr. Becky said he wished he had some of these experiences, but that is the talk of a crazy man.

Then we went into who had the more crazy family – her or me.  I think it was a draw – for different reasons.

Becky’s husband is great and I really liked him from the moment I met him.  Her kids are great too.  Four is extremely cute these days.   I got to see her parents too and wished her father a happy day.  Even after five hours together, I still got to beat a path out of there without encountering all I may have had to.

Yes, I’m being vague here and sorry for that.  Sometimes it is a necessary.  It will speak to some, but not to most.  I apologize.

Becky did another podcast that is coming out at some point.  The host asked her about the blogs she reads and mine was mentioned specifically.   I don’t know if it will make the edit for the actual podcast, but if and when it does, you know damned sure I’ll post it here.

We took a few pics too, but none of them are that great.  By the time we got to pic #4 we both decided we were trying too hard and just stopped.

Song by: Loudon Wainwright III

I Drink Alone

I have.  I will.  But I don’t make a habit of it.  Technically, last night, I didn’t.

After work yesterday, I was supposed to meet a friend for a drink at happy hour.  A gay happy hour.

G2H2 (Gay Guy’s Happy Hour) is this great little event that happens once a month.  Gay men take over a straight bar for happy hour.

Personally, I would like this to be more subversive than it is.  It would be better if it seemed like flash mob or critical mass activity, but I believe it is a bit more planned than that.  The G2H2 leaders get clearance from the actual bars and it is all very well executed.  That being said, it is still an interesting idea.

In mid-afternoon, my friend Jon (not the same Jon I normally reference here) said he could not come because he had to pick-up a friend from the airport.  Worst. Excuse. Ever.   Undaunted, I decided to go anyway.   Though I axed Denton, he wasn’t up for it and went home right from work.  So I went alone.

I can’t say I drank alone because there must have been 300 guys who showed up.  Nice turn out, no?   And for all my attempts for being more social these last two years, I knew exactly ONE person there and one whom I knew of.    The one person was a nurse at a place I worked two jobs ago.  The one I knew of, was ex-blogger FaggotyAssFaggot .  I did introduce myself to him, but it was a cool reception at best.  Maybe he doesn’t want to acknowledge (or have acknowledged) his past blogging life.  I dunno.

There was something very different about this set-up – in a good way.  With this many guys, it felt like a gay bar, but somehow it didn’t.  First, it was still light out when the event started.  No disco naps needed and then getting dressed at 11:00 pm to make your debut thirty minutes later.  No 168 beats per minute music that has had the same g-ddamn remix qualities since 1986.   No Mariah, Whitney, Madonna or Taylor Dayne!   And it wasn’t so loud you couldn’t have actual conversations.

It also wasn’t horribly pretentious like so many gay bars can be – or make you feel.   When I walked in, I was afraid I’d be leaning against a wall with my drink, like I had done so so many times.  But those fears were put to rest quickly.

Two guys immediately came up and talked to me.  Joe and Bob were from the Akron-Canton area.  They come up for these things, as well……like I said, they are from Akron-Canton.  What else are they going to do?

They asked if my wife knew I was there and then they gestured to my ring.  Later some very good looking man came up to me and told me wanted to tell me he thought I was attractive, but then said he saw the ring.

What?  Does the ring presence make me no longer attractive?  Or just unable to make people think or say this?   Hell – I don’t know anyone would mind that affirmation regardless of their romantic attachments…..or jewelry enhancement.

That all being said, I would do this again.  It beats actually going to gay bars and you still get the socialization.  It would be better going with folks you know, but I don’t think I’d have any issue going by my lonesome.

Song by: George Thorogood

Kiss of Death

Colour me bummed to see this:

RJ had one of the few blogs I checked in on daily. I’m pretty sure I was one of the few he did the same with. That last sentence is just a guess on my part.

His last post was back in November and every few weeks I’d shoot an email his way to make sure he was ok. Only once in awhile would he reply, usually with a word or three. For a writer, he used his words sparingly.

Without ever meeting, we developed a somewhat brotherly bond. Had geography worked in our favour, I assume we’d be friends. The things we liked and did not were quite scarily on the same level. I think my group of friends from the last few decades, and whom I reference here often, would allow him into our little group.

And while the taking down of his blog, with no notice, did not surprise me – I won’t lie to say it didn’t disappoint me. Deep down, I was hoping he’d just start back up – again, without any notice.

RJ assures me he is fine. I do expect to stumble upon him with another blog – one started with no notice. Maybe more wishful thinking.

As for the rest of my blogroll – in the last few months, I have added and subtracted folks without fanfare. Most are the same, but welcome Steve and Jake. And welcome back Tony, in his new blog.

Song by: New Order

Becky’s Tune

Until someone buys the movie or television rights to it, this is probably my last plug for Rebecca‘s novel, Nice to Come Home To.

Published last April, you folks have gotten dozens of hints from me to order the sucker for the 10 months prior to go-live. Some of you, I know have followed through. Thanks on that. She might thank you as well. Her manager, agent, publisher, publicist and accountant do.

For those of you hit hard by the economy – good news! Today, NTCHT comes out in paperback. It’s kind of like the second coming. But with the book, you have opportunities for paper cuts, which are like stigmata.

Don’t let Katie Holmes on the cover scare you. It’s actually a cute cover and it’s not really Mrs. Cruise. Tom probably wouldn’t let her read the novel as it has a therapist as a character, and we all know what he thinks about psychiatry.

Yes, the novel is probably geared more towards women, but no reason men wouldn’t like it. I did. (hush – all of you!) The possibility that the bestest character is based on me has nothing whatsoever to do with my opinion on the book. Honest. Kind of. Not really. Ok,  it’s all about me. Or should be. I was jonesing for her to call it McKay & Friends, but she never seriously entertained the idea.  And by ‘seriously, I mean ‘at all’.

As it is, I don’t think I factor into her new novel, which she is currently writing.

But until that (no known working title) is completed, pick up the paperback of Nice to Come Home To. It’s approaching spring break and beach season (well…..kind of soon) and it’s a good read for those times.. But at least buy it now. Her publisher will thank you.

Song by: Michelle Shocked


I’m loopt-ed.

It’s a little 1984-ish, but via your cellphone people you chose to track you, can track you.

I don’t think anyone can really tell if I’m at 7-11 or Popeye’s, just that I’m in the general vicinity. ….and it’s not like I have a ton of people who I’m following or allowing them to follow me. As you can see from the map below, I’ve got bi-coastal coverage (thanks Moby, thanks Brad).

Now, if you want to get really really personal, just team up loopt with my new most favourite (yet untested) iPhone application
Yes – use loopt to find which bathroom I might need to use at a moment’s notice. CREEPY.

Song by: the Bangles

Happy Hour

Well, I went out again.  Yes, again.

It seems I’ve been going out a lot and drinking more lately.  I’m not complaining.

But I warned you all – I went out with ex-ex co-workers/friends.  Two of them.  One married, one in the midst of a divorce.   And then me – one gay, but still in a more committed relationship than they.   I’m not judging.

It turns out, five tequilas on a Monday evening might be too many for the start of a work week.  Or it just means I’m a bit out of practice.

We actually had a nice time.  Honest to g-d, we had not been out together for almost three years, so it was fun to be with them – even in their heterosexual way.  I know that sounds weird, but some of my other non-gay friends just aren’t this straight.

We did vow to not wait another three years to do this.  And we actually have tentative plans to hit the wine bar where I got drunk last Friday.

In the future, some of you might have to save me from myself.

Song by: the Housemartins