This is Awkward!

It seems like forever since I’ve posted random shit that I’ve come across. Today is the day. First of all, I must say I love me some Radar Magazine.



Their mantra: “Pop * Politics * Scandal * Style”

They even make politics interesting, and I NEVER use interesting and politics in the same sentence! But it’s random pieces like this that keep me going back for more.

Note: Nothing below this sentence came from my brain. I just took the liberty of cutting down the list to the ones that made me LOL. Enjoy :)

You only get one chance to make a first impression. We (Radar) recommend you avoid the following ice breakers:

“This bar used to cool. Now it’s mostly losers.”

“Wouldn’t you just love to die here?”

“Tell me honestly: Do I look like a rapist?”

“Bulimia. Pro or con?”

“May I crack your back?”

“Who do I have to fuck at this party to find out where to take a shit?”

“Ah, yes, my profile pic is from before the accident.”

“What’s your take on the so-called Holocaust?”

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? You and me: How much?”

“Do you know the host well, or are you just blackmailing him with photos of his daughter fellating her driving instructor like I am?”

“I think it’s so cool you’re black.”

(Applying hand sanitizer) “Nothing personal.”

(Laughing nervously) “You’re just going to talk to me until someone better comes along.”

Thanksgiving (the Holiday) Came Early This Year

My family (parents & sister) were in town this past weekend (Thursday night through Tuesday morning), and now I’m left to push through the funk that always accompanies the days and weeks following their presence. Fortunately this morning at work, I felt an incredible weight lifted off me and my lungs were able to breathe easily again. It might be a coincidence that this relief coincided with the ascension of my family’s aircraft, but I think not! I love them ‘til death, but 96 hours + in one sitting is a bit too much these days.

Things they disturbed while they were here (to name a few):
My social agenda (suffered the most).
My blood alcohol level (is dangerously low).
My stove (quit working for a spell on Monday morning).
Broadway went dark. (This is the one thing I didn’t see coming!)

It could have been worse, but it could always be better. Here’s the cynical rundown and obvious highlights…

So, I went to what I consider church on Saturday night (The Urge) and then was coerced into going to what my family considers church Sunday morning (The Brooklyn Tabernacle). And I must say, thank God (read: goodness) that I got some much-needed relief on Saturday night; because even though I was extremely tired and hung-over on the way to Brooklyn (and my sister bravely called me out on it), at least I had the memories of the previous night to reflect upon while the crazies around me got drunk on religion and high on ignorance.

Sitting there, reverently observing, I thought a lot about religious intoxication and how it could (and should) be considered just as detrimental to someone’s health as the more tangible substances I choose to intake to feel better about myself and the circumstances around me.

Every person alive is guilty of chasing down temporary highs; those moments that give our lives purpose; that elevate the consciousness and add complexity to the self. I believe that the freedom to choose how we achieve these moments in time is one of the greatest characteristics of our civilization.

I found it interesting that my family felt it necessary to guilt me into attending the 12 o’clock service with them, knowing that there is no way in hell (or heaven, since they believe in both) that they would have indulged me the same way and accompanied me to my favorite bar on Saturday night. We can add this to the long list of double standards that my family lives by, but why should I expect anything less (read: more).

Pastor Cymbala (whom I blame, as a leader – one of many – who is misusing the position that his manipulated and exploited congregation has ignorantly bestowed upon him) even spoke briefly about intoxication by worldly substances, and how he wouldn’t feel condemned for drinking a glass of wine with dinner, BUT how he wouldn’t do it because 1) his father was an alcoholic & 2) he might be a stumbling block to someone else who has a problem with alcohol. Well, you know what I say to that? Bullshit. Other people’s problems should remain other people’s problems. Belief in what you want and leave me out of it. I will return the favor.

As an outsider, it was very obvious that the vast congregation was intoxicated by the beautiful (award-winning) choir, loud music (I, the faggot, felt the need for ear plugs) and the ritualistic formula that resembles that of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Same thing over and over, with very few surprises and a lot of the same dramatic music used as a device to make the audience feel something they normally wouldn’t (and probably shouldn’t).

I honestly have nothing against religion, but when it comes between me and the loves of my life (sleep, alcohol & friends), it’s not on my happy list. Of course, when you put everything in perspective, my family’s idea of fun is playing dominos and Mad Gab. Little do they know that the whole time my cup was filled with Sauvignon Blanc, my only salvation this weekend. I’m such a bitch.

Highlights of the weekend:

Friday -
Spamalot, even though the whole time all I wanted was Callie O’Malley (Tony Award winner Sara Ramirez) to be back as the Lady of the Lake (instead of the sub-par singer & actress that is Emily Hsu…ugh). The Virgin Mary was a doll to treat.

Saturday -
The Palace Hotel, even though I had to endure the Madison Avenue street fair in order to have the opportunity to geek out in the real (fictional) Serena’s courtyard.

Sunday -
Fall in CP (Central Park), even though we had to search for the only 2 trees in the park that have cooperated with the changing seasons (not that we’ve had much Fall at all here in the city).

Quote of the weekend (said by Mom after the stove was found to be broken not long after she cleaned it): “I thought I was doing something good.”

My response: “You always think you are!”

Lesson of the week – LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE.

Report back to me on how that works for ya…

Is This Where You Tell Me You’re Not Gay?!

I firmly believe that life is little more than a series of phases. Some phases last longer than others, some overlap, and then some never seem to end. But does everyone go through the same phases? And is it important to experience as many phases as possible in order to continuously broaden your knowledge of the universe?

Well, I tend to agree with the brilliant words of Ethan Hawke’s character (Troy Dyer) in Reality Bites:

“There's no point to any of this. It's all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know, a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good; the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter becomes a cackle... and I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.”

Yes, it’s a bit dramatic, but he kind of has a point about none of this having a point! But nonetheless, we each have to deal with the different phases of our life. Some are easy, some are enjoyable, and then some are excruciating and most are uncomfortable.

This is going to sound very stereotypical and extremely narrow-minded, but I think that the vast majority of gay men go through a couple phases throughout their adult lives. The reoccurring slut phase, the relatively-short-yet-intense drug phase, and of course the let’s settle (and settle down) phase that comes too often in the lives of many.

Then there are the unfortunate few that have to pass through the purgatory of a bisexual phase. No matter how homo-friendly their surroundings are, their clouded view of, and the blurred line between, what they desire and what they are used to does little more that confuse and frustrate them and the people with whom they chose to become involved.

My bisexual phase hopefully both started and ended this past week. I’ve had a sophomoric crush on him for some time now, and now that the crush has been consummated I’m left evaluating its reality. Crushes are always based more on fantasy than on the facts. I blame this one on the Armani Aquadigio. The foreplay was subtle then evolved to overt. The chase only lasted a few days, and I’m already over the implications. It’s a cliché case of a bisexual man using an openly gay man for a great back-alley blowjob and an occasional drunk, fucked-up fuck.
I believe it came to a head when, after giving him head, I had to service myself and he felt the need to sit in his desk chair and watch like the gay-porn-watching balls-of-confusion that he is. I’m not gonna deny that it turned me on a bit, but if you’re gonna treat me like pay-per-view at least leave the coins on the dresser!

Bisexuality is definitely one of those things (i.e. tattoos, puppies, children) that automatically make a guy’s stock/stud portfolio seem more lucrative than it actually is. And it’s those same things (excluding the tattoos) that bring unnecessary emotional turmoil that this closet-extracted queen doesn’t need in his life right now (or ever).

It’s funny that I go on and on about The Bisexual, even though I never have and never will believe in bisexuality. But I guess, even though I don’t believe, I can sympathize with what he, and the others, are going through. He’s trying to hold on to the shreds of his heterosexuality, and good for him for trying to keep the family tradition alive. I just hope he snaps out of his bipolar funk before he ends up forty and alone, being serviced by strangers he’ll never need to know (shout-out to Dido, who obviously goes both ways).

I don’t think he knows about this blog, and will never tell him about it. But if he happens upon this post, I would want him to know this –

I like the man that you are. It’s just a shame that you don’t see who that man is. When you figure that out, let me know. In the meantime, enjoy SportsCenter!

I’ll end this post with another great Troy/Reality Bites quote.

“I am not under any orders to make the world a better place.”

Thank goodness for that! Otherwise, I’d feel obligated to turn this bi-boi out. :)

Onto the next phase of frustration, whatever that might be.