Category Archives: Gay

Talkin’ Myself Down

Just more G2H2 pre/during/post bitch sessions stories.

I wasn’t fully awake when I posted yesterday. I was just slow to get through the post and it’s all I could do to finish and publish the thing. In retrospect, I would have had one post (as opposed to this second one) and the entire thing would have not only been funnier, but flowed a bit better.

….at least in my dream world. I suppose this is why I need an editor. Not that I am great at taking constructive criticism.

I first invited my friend Todd to join me. Not my friend Todd, the porn ingenue. He lives in San Francisco where other male “stars” live. No, this Todd works in finance – which can be just as sleazy, I suppose.

Todd has a wicked sense of humour and he never fails to make me laugh. When I asked him (via email), his response was: I wish I had your courage to go out and consume hundreds of wasted calories that do untold destruction to my body. Bitch. …so alone I went.

I said in last month’s G2H2 post, that these aren’t really flash mob scenes. It is all very controlled. The gay organization makes plans with the bars and it’s nothing more of a gathering of fags. No one is taking over any straight bar. We’re renting, basically. The only one benefiting from our disposable income are these bars. No straights are hurt or even offended in the process. Not even a little.

This time it was at the House of Blues. They have a very small bar and most of the place is a restaurant and a party room. Yes, we were in the party room. 100% segregated from any straight person who did not work behind the bar – which I’m not sure there was even one there.
This I do not get. Why not just have it at a fucking nice gay bar then? Why are we giving our money to these assholes who put baby in a corner! Nobody puts baby in a corner. (For the record – Dirty Dancing is another movie I have never seen. I just know of the quote. I think the first ‘b’ in baby should be upper cased, but whatever!)

So in I walk in and the hostess goes to me…..she goes…..oh you want the Cambridge room and tells me how to get there. Now I never said where I was going, or if I was just there for dinner or the bar. Bitch. Do I look that gay?

But back I went. There they made me show an ID! An ID!!!! Maybe if I were 30 I’d be flattered, but I am pushing 46. No one is thinking I’m underage or close to it. I made a crack to the other guy behind me, since he clearly was nowhere near the age of 21 either – but he didn’t think my crack about “our age” was funny. Bitch.

Then there was the room. Now you just know a gay man designed this room, well since…..someone had to and who do these jobs go to? All I can say is: Worst. Flow. Ever. The bar (only one) all the way at the back of the room. It was like a Great White concert at a Rhode Island in reverse.

…and let me tell you, there is a special place in hell for guys who pay for drinks with plastic. It is $4 for a beer! If you don’t have the money – get the fuck out of here! There are 300 thirsty fags behind you – and now the server has to stop, swipe your frickin ‘ card, rip the receipt off for you to sign, etc. Get out of our way. We are functioning and practicing alcoholics – we cannot be bothered by you.

I know it sounds like I’m moaning, and I kind of am. But if you want to interact with a few hundred homos, where does one go? As Todd said, he can’t do the gay bars, because by the time they get going, his hair is in curlers and the cucumber slices are already covering his eyes.

Will I go again? Maybe. I clearly would have to set aside my expectations and just go to go. There are flaws in the system but I guess I should just treat it as a bar and nothing else.  I don’t think I’ll go by my lonesome anymore.  First, as we saw with Eddie, the potential for me to get into trouble is too high.

I just want to drink and laugh with friends.

Song by: the G0-Go’s

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Tempted

Beer.  The root of all evil.

Ok, beer is made with Hops, female flower cones, also known as strobiles, of the hop plant (Humulus lupulus) and not a root at all…..but I digress.

Last night I went, once again, to G2H2 – or gay guy’s happy hour.  Once again, I went alone because someone was working late.  Once again, I was in a group of 300 gay men.

This time I knew a few more than last time – when I knew no one.  There were probably a half-dozen people I knew from past lives, one being from the guy I was chatting with at the last G2H2. He introduced me to a table of men he was with.  All were nice, though one guy was a little letchy with me.  And D-runk!  My g-d, it was 19:00.  How long had you been drinking, bud?  And a close talker too.  A very bad combo.

But while I was at that table, I kept seeing another guy.  What can I say?  He was attractive – in a way I would find, but I could see that to someone else, they might pass him over on the first go-around.  Let me tell you people:  it’s all in the nose.

Lest you think I was the only one doing the looking, think again.  He was doing it right back to me – even though we were at a distance.

Now I sound like a letch – and maybe I am.  But I think I was just being friendly.  His name was/is Eddie.  Not Edward or Ed.  He had a great sense of humour or at least tolerated mine.  I felt the need to mention his nose – which he immediately covered up, literally.

You know how caricature “artists” pick out your biggest flaw and accentuate it?  No doubt for Eddie, it would be his schnoz.  Me telling him it was a great nose probably could have come across as mocking – but honest, it wasn’t.

The thing is – I didn’t know where I was going with all of this.  I was being friendly, but let’s face it, nothing is coming from this.  Nothing can, or should.  To say in another place and time I wouldn’t have gone for it – who can say?  Who can say?

To say I did any of this because of beer would be unfair to the beer industry.  They are not the root of all evil.  How could they be?

As it was, I got a text message from you know who saying he was down the street and to let’s have dinner.  I excused myself from Eddie and told him I hoped I would see him again.  …and I hope I do.


Song by: Squeeze

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!!

Allllllllllllllllrighty.

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 www.aaabrasives.com/catalog . 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

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

Silent Partner

Cleveland is attempting to pass a Domestic Partner Registry program.  Snore.

First – they are a little past the time for this.  Too little, too late.  Cleveland Heights did it about six years ago and one of the first cities in the nation to do it.  Cleveland proper turned their back on it then.

Secondly – Ohio passed a ban on gay marriage back in 2004, in the whole let’s throw off voters with a non-measure to get them riled up for ‘family values’ and the GOP.

So now, Cleveland admittedly is trying to stop ‘brain drain’ from NE Ohio and hope that smart folks who can move anywhere, because they can (i.e. homos).   And for this right – which is non-binding and provides absolutely nothing by law, or can be enforced by anyone or for anyone – we would get to pay the low low price of $75!

Yes, Cleveland is extremely cash-strapped, so why not prey on the folks who might have disposable income that four years ago they helped decide to exclude.

FUCK YOU CLEVELAND.

But because gays do bring cash to the table – Cleveland is also vying for the 2014 Gay Games.  This one I’m slightly better with.  A few 100 gay athletes and a few 1000 of their admirers coming to town to make the straights uncomfortable, all while they profit from the poofs.

….and clearly it is already making some locals uncomfortable – like Juanita Solis, who wrote this letter to the Plain Dealer:

Is Cleveland so hard up for money that we need to push aside our morals and integrity and vie to host the 2014 Gay Games (Plain Dealer, Oct. 16)? Are we condoning homosexuality by courting this event? It’s bad enough that gay marriages are being legalized.

I’m sure that I am going to upset a lot of people, but I’m sorry. I’m no Bible thumper, but please tell me where in the Bible it says that men are to be with men and women are to be with women? If there is such a passage in the Bible, then I will gladly shut up.

Now, I considered writing a response to this.  Something like this:

“I’m sure I’m going to upset a lot of people, but I’m sorry.  Solon (the uber-white Cleveland suburb where Ms Solis lives) is not comfortable with hispanics living in its borders.  We are fine with you coming once, every other week, to do the floors, baseboards, tubs and sinks, but I do not see anything in the city charter where you people should be residing within city limits.

Clearly, I have nothing against hispanics, but if Juanita insists on making broad, uninformed, prejudicial statements about one group of people, I don’t have much issue with pointing this out in language she might understand.   Might.  To be honest, I don’t think she is that intelligent to pick up on it, even when hit over the head with it.

The only actual response in the PD I saw was better than anything I came up with.  The guy suggested Ms. Solis move to Iran where there are no homosexuals at all!    I’m for that.

But I do find both Cleveland initiatives to be hypocritical.

We certainly will not be shelling out any cash for the registry.  I see some issues with not doing this too.  In a way, I feel the need to show a force in numbers on how many queer couples are here – but the bigger picture problem for me is, the city presenting me with a $75 piece of worthless paper. By the way – cost of a marriage license?  $40!!!!!!!

Bite me.

Song by:  Marti Jones

The Married Man

There have been some half-baked thoughts out there on Prop 8 – on both sides.  Maybe not that bad, but more wrought with emotion than logic.   My Keith Olbermann post from the other day was one I liked, but for the demographic who watch his show – he was preaching to the choir.  He was not really bringing one over to the Gay Side of marriage.

Last Saturday, on Real Time with Bill Maher, Dan Savage was on (again) – his first time after Prop 8 failed.  I’m not a huge fan of Savage’s written column – it’s a bit over the top for me – but as a commentator, he’s articulate, and has well thought-out ideas and if need be, arguments.

Take this clip.  Yeah, you have to sit through Ashton Kutcher, and his borderline homophobic response (about 50 seconds in) – he almost redeems himself (1:45 in).   Almost!

It is really about 4:10 into the video where Savage presents one of the best counterpoints to the Right, or the Mormons, or the Catholics rationale on why same sex marriage is a threat to the institution.   It’s a fun thing to watch – but maybe that’s just me.

Fall-out from Prop 8 continues.  The multiple protests that happened last weekend (admittedly, I did not attend in the 35 degree pouring rain) – which was coordinated in days via FaceBook or MySpace.  They got hundreds of thousands of people protesting – something HRC couldn’t do in a year’s worth of planning.

There is a push for Hollywood to boycott the Sundance Film Festival – as the latter is full of Mormons (major instigators to push Prop 8 to pass) and the former is full of homosexuals.  No – it’s true!  I swear!!!

I’m ok with the boycott.  Nothing good has come out of Sundance since sex, lies and videotape anyway.

Song by: the Roches