My Goodness

Gay Marriage

2012-01-06T11:26:00.000-08:00

I'm reeeeally tired of listening to the debate on gay marriage. So far I haven't heard ONE argument that makes any sense against it. The whole conservative view point is one big slap in the face lie. They really have it both ways. I'm all for letting the churches decide who can get married. I"m 100% sure I can find a church that will marry two men. Buuuuuuut...the GOVERNMENT won't all churches to legally marry. It's bullshit and I'm tired of trying to talk rationally with people about it. It really infuriates me that the new thing is to say that a candidate is a "defender of the constitution" Which is code for...AGAINST GAY MARRIAGE. Because we all know that what makes America great is the freedom of it's people, that the government doesn't make you follow a certain religions rules, that we are free and that's what makes Americans the envy of the world...so naturally we should deny gay marriage? I can't stand when I hear people say that shit and then there are millions of people nodding their head because their little brains can't think for themselves and they just like that some asshat is saying what they are thinking. Seriously, when you hear someone talk about the constitution and in the same breath start saying how their religion doesn't allow gay marriage you're a fucking moron for not thinking they are full of shit. Are you even listening to what they say? They are bat shit crazy. This country is going to go to hell and it's not because of Obama. It's because it's filled with mindless fucks who equate life to how much money they have and can only have happiness if they are comparing themselves to everyone around them. I challenge ONE PERSON anywhere to send me an anonymous statement giving ONE example of how being against gay marriage is both rational and for the good of this country. Just one. If one person can make ONE point for being against gay marriage I will never talk about it again.

There is a chance I'm getting old

2011-12-19T06:24:00.000-08:00

So lately there have been unconfirmed rumors that I may have turned 30. While I am neither confirming or denying these accusations, and my hair is as thick and luscious as ever, there have been some small indicators that I may be getting older.

For instance, what do I want for Christmas? I want a back scratcher (preferably a young latino..zing) and new socks. When did that happen?!!? Socks aren't cool...they were never cool...and it's all I want. It seems like just yesterday I was combing through the catalogs and newspapers clipping out gifts I wanted. Everything was fast and colorful and awesome and I couldn't wait one more minute to open my gifts or I'd pee my pants! Now...now...ugh...I'd never get up early to open gifts. I don't WANT anything. All I want is some peace and quiet and for the imaginary neighbor kids I have for the purpose of this blog to shut the fuck up and quit running through my also imaginary well maintained lawn.

Also for the purpose of this blog I receive phone calls and lately I've realized that I find it incredibly cumbersome to have to answer the phone after 6:30...what could someone possibly want to say to me so late that they couldn't tell me in the morning!?!? I remember once I called Shawna Carver at 8:30 when I was in highschool and her dad yelled at me on the phone. Now I understand what he meant...touche old man...touche. When I was in highschool I stayed up until 6 am trying to think of stupid saying to say for my quote of the day(i think I invented spamming email with that). I'd stumble out of bed at 8:10, brush my teeth while I ate, and was at school in less than 20 minutes and didn't feel tired at all...until they started talking...then I went straight to sleep.

All these things that used to be fun and new and amazing back in college now seem like work. I COULD drive down to Duluth, go out to the bars with friends, sleep a few hours, and drive back home the next day...or I could just stay home switching between the Weather Channel and reruns of the Twilight Zone while I lay around in my underwear.

Another thing...I'm kind of losing my dickheadedness (just made up a word). I've always been quick with a comeback...it didn't matter who or what you were, if you said something even semi-smart ass to me I'd have an instant comeback in my head to totally derail any chance you thought you had of winning at teasing. Now someone says something sassy to me and I have to ask them to repeat it because I can't hear what the hell they are saying! It really takes the ZING out of things if I have to get them to repeat their original put down 36 times before I fully understand what is going on.

When I was younger my brain had to constantly be entertained in some way. It was always thinking, I had some many damn ideas in my head all at once it was hard to concentrate. Now when I have an idea by the time I start to write it down I'm ready to take a nap.

More Small Town living

2011-11-07T12:53:00.000-08:00

So I feel slightly guilty of just making fun of living in small town because it really does come with a lot of great things, but in reality I just don't find those things all that interesting so I'd rather just comment on what it's like to come from a true small community. By definition...a small community is rather...small...and that means that a lot of people haven't really experienced it. I guess you also have to have a very dry sense of humor to appreciate all that it entails...and also have a lot of spare time to want to read this.

Sunday I accompanied my father to what I thought was a spaghetti and meatball feed. I was quickly reminded that here in Scandinavian country meatballs don't always accompany noodles. Which...I prefer. Why sully the good reputation of a meatball by surrounding it with those incessant noodles? I still can't figure out a good way to eat a noodle. How does on suck it down without that last inch slapping against your lips, leaving a series of red sauced stained marks?!?! I've tried the spoon and fork technique...I don't like it...stupid Italians...or as the old man calls them EYEtalians. Anyway the meatball meal was in the local church which fortunately is right next door to my fathers. It's a real old church...I think. It is just one room up top and one room below for a total (check my math at home kids!) of 2 rooms. Upon entering the church I didn't burn, which is nice, but still being a homosexual I have a new found aversion to churches. As my father and I descended the stairs to the basement and entered the lower room this nice lady with a big fake smile greeted us. In the background I saw two familiar faces and I heard, "Well oh my gosh! It's Mike and Derek." For a second I felt like a celebrity until the lady with the big fake smile said, "OH Mark and Erin?!?" I haven't seen you guys for a while! You could tell that the ladies working were very happy to have people there to take care of, I imagine their own families have grown up to the point where they don't always get to put those good skills to use very much anymore. We were treated as royalty, they hustled and bustled asking me what I wanted what I didn't want...the questions were as meaningless as the answers because I was getting a little of everything whether I liked it or not. As i was served one lady whispered in my ear, "I gave you extra meatballs!" My heart swelled with pride until I glanced at my fathers plate and using my amazing ability to count numbers less than ten I saw that he had 1 more meatball than me. Apparently the old man still has it. As we sat there small talk ensued and as nice and lovely as it all was I couldn't help but to think in the back of my mind that this just wasn't the place for me. May be it's because I"m not 65+. May be because I've been living in a big city. May be because I'm just kind of a jerk...but the conversation just didn't peak my interest. It is deer season...so we talked about all the deer...each person around the table stating emphatically that THEY had seen the biggest deer. Then we got to talking about the TERRIBLE traffic in Angora. People sometimes flying by at an amazing 65 mph...SOMETIMES being the key word. The only time I seem to find a car on the road is when it's one of the people who were in the church and they are going 40...and I'm trying to pass.

Still I ate everything on my plate, not really because I was all that hungry, but because I didn't have to share any stories if my face was stuffed with food. I let my dad do what my dad does best...tell stories. I heard them all and the ladies at the table were nice enough to nod their heads and say small agreeable things. We heard about the old bell system, my dog homer, and how Mrs. Bidle told him once that I was smarter than my brother. The ladies of course had no idea what the bell system was, who my dog homer was, or who the heck Mrs. Bidle is, but that didn't stop my dad from telling his stories.

All in all I guess the meal served it's purpose. I got to take my dad out of the house and I ate a plate of meat.

What have you been doing?

2011-10-24T12:36:00.000-07:00

If I had a nickel for every time I heard this I'd have traded them in for a few bucks...I don't know how to explain life anymore. Especially being back up in God's country. Somewhere between Duluth and Cotton your vehicle goes through a dimensional portal which only is distinguishable by the sudden lack in the laws of time. Days here go both slow and fast and sometimes in reverse. The summer was a blur but seemed to take forever. Sometimes I drive for hours only to find that I'm still nowhere. Sometimes I'll be at a bar which has looked the same since 1972, is filled with slightly sad looking old guys, and someone randomly plays Lady Gaga on the jukebox....yes they still have a jukebox!
The summer was great, it was just what I needed...I worked every day, all day, and my days off were spent stressing over whether I was getting the most relaxation possible...which of course made it impossible for me to relax. At times being back up north is the greatest thing in the world. There is something to be said about going for a walk deep into the forest with no discernible proof of civilization...except for my iphone. And have I told you how great it is to just pee outside again!?!? There really is nothing like it. And yes you shouldn't pee in the wind, but damn if it isn't fun to pee with the wind! After spending time in Texas, which is great in it's own way, I have a new appreciation for the beauty that is up here. The sky might be bluer in Texas but the stars are brighter in Minnesota. And yet...there are things missing. I have a lot of friends and family here, but I miss the connections I made in Texas. I miss being able to just explore Austin and find crazy weird people and places. The chances of me losing to a drag queen in a dating game up here are very slim. And I can almost guarantee I won't see some fool walking around constantly with no shirt and a cat on his shoulder. But the worst part about here, really the only bad part, is that for a gay man there's not a lot up here. It's almost a shame to have all this beauty around and nobody to show it to.

It's like choose your own simile
A) Playing Monopoly by yourself. You might be winning but it still kind of sucks.
B) Making love to yourself. It feels great but is much better with someone else.
C) Having a Hulu account without an internet connection.

And this is what pisses me off about people who are against gay marriage more than anything. You think it doesn't hurt anyone if we just can't get married...but it does. It says that you don't think I should be able to hold my lovers hand to keep them warm as the leaves change colors. That I can't just kiss him gently as the sunsets on Lake Vermilion. Why would God provide me with these feelings and all this beauty if I wasn't meant to enjoy it? Being gay isn't all cut off jean shorts and sparkly v-neck tops. We are like everyone else. The more you try to make us outcasts the more we will act accordingly...If you don't think I deserve to get married then you should know that I dislike you immensely and think you are a horrible person. If you were to tell me this in my presence I would give you the tongue lashing you never knew possible and very possibly beat you senseless.

So...just be warned. ;)

Blogs by Design: Learning Spanish

2011-09-18T09:21:00.000-07:00

After the rousing success of the first requested blog I decided to continue...

Growing up in the woods in Linden Grove I didn't really have much of a reason to learn Spanish. My dog didn't really care what language I spoke as long as I scratched his ears and gave him my left overs. Most of the imaginary friends I had didn't talk to me at all. The only foriegn culture I had was from the Canadian Channel and as far as I could tell they were just like me...smelled like maple syrup and a fresh cut ax. I'm not sure I even knew there was such thing as Spanish, except may be for the Speedy Gonzales cartoons, which as far as I can tell is a rather accurate portrayal of your average Mexican mouse. Besides that my dad would sometimes refer to "Metsaco" which for years I thought was a company owned by the Metsas who lived in the area.

When I was in high school I had to take a Spanish Class and I think my only thought about it was, "Why the heck do I need to know Spanish?!!?" Warp ahead 10 years and I'm obviously dating a man straight out of Mexico...it was during this time I instantly regretted not knowing how to say anything in Spanish besides, "Where is the library?" This summer while I slaved away at Vermilion Houseboats I decided to enrich my mind by teaching myself Spanish. And let me tell you...it's not really all that easy. How do you teach yourself something you don't even know? It's a perplexing idea. Sure...after a few weeks I could repeat the audio books I had downloaded...I can count...I can say simple things...but as soon as someone who grew up speaking Spanish starts talking I might as well be licking my drool off the window of the short bus. It's hard to learn Spanish when you really have nobody around you at any time who will speak Spanish with you...hell most of the guys I hang out with barely speak English. Every once in a while I'd speak with some of my Spanish speaking friends on Skype or by phone but I quickly realized they were about as adept at teaching Spanish as I was.

I really wanted to buy the Rosetta Stone program but I just could not justify the $600 price tag. I could never actually find anyone who had bought and used the program but always heard something like, "Oh my friend's friend bought it and it worked really well for him...also he was taking classes." I kind of feel like it's so much money that people just lie about it working so that they don't look like an idiot for buying it. Kind of like the people who fall for those scams where you spend in $200 bucks to get a plaque saying how smart you are. Anyway I tried going to the local library to see if they had such a program to either use at their facility or to borrow. The hardest part was getting to the Library during it's business hours. They seem to be open every other Tuesday from 3-3:30. Once inside I asked the librarian if they had such a program and she just looked at me like I was a moron for even considering they would have such a thing. After asking if they had any language learning software she directed me to the "Computer learning" section which consisted of such titles as, "Email for Dummies" and the manual for Windows 98.

So instead of spending $600+ on a program that was not guaranteed to work I cobbled together my own programs. I found a few great websites that helped. http://www.busuu.com/ http://www.studyspanish.com/ Both of which are free but try to get you buy more. Also http://quizlet.com/ is a great site for making your own flash cards. They will even have a realistic Spanish speaker say the words in Spanish for you. Besides that I downloaded the audio book Spanish for Dummies. I also bought the program call Spanish Immersion which had multiple discs with varying effectiveness. I then found a few ebooks that are free to download which really helped my reading and recollection. And supplemented all that with a few Apps. Jibbigo is a great program you can just talk into and it translates and doesn't need the internet. Spanishtt is a nice little learning tool and byki was also pretty good. I also downloaded a Spanish Slang app which was fun for learning a few slang terms and sayings. All in all I spent under 100$ and I think it was really a much better program than anything out there.

As Requested: Manscaping

2011-09-18T07:51:00.000-07:00

I recently implored you, the public, to suggest idea(r)s for new blog posts. I need to think of a clever title for this blog on request...then I need to think of a not so clever title I will actually use. You give me a topic and I'll write about it, that way we both feel like we did something today with our lonely little pathetic lives.

So today's request comes from my buddy Rex who wants me to write about manscaping. Lucky for Rex I'm kind of a know it all so I'd be happy to write extensively on the subject.

For those of you not in the know "manscaping" is the clever word pun that basically refers to a man's grooming, but doesn't just have to be done by Mexicans (racism is the best!). It mostly is used in reference to shaving one's special, bad touch areas but can also encompass grooming of any hair. I for one am all for Manscaping.. Listen fellas, nobody wants to get with a one eyebrowed, disheveled wilder-beast. I really don't need to see any canopies walking around the beach either. Trim that tumble weed...it's really quite freeing. I'm not saying you shave it smooth... nobody wants a school zone down there. Things need to be done in moderation. Besides that really itches.
If you're worried that it's not "manly" to shave Kool and the Gang then I really have only one piece of advice for you...stop being a wuss. There is nothing less manly then worrying so much about what makes you manly or not. I've seen some dudes in a dress that are twice as manly as me...scary as hell though. Besides it's not really all that difficult to trim a little...takes about five seconds once a week. If you need to feel like a man, go break something and put it back together incorrectly, or just drive around and not ask for directions...Only you can prevent forest fires!

I used to be so damn funny

2011-09-13T18:53:00.001-07:00

Fone Phun
Finally a few helpful hints for when you are listening on the phone.
1. If you find yourself not paying attention and the person you are talking with catches you, just say you were going through a tunnel.
2. End each sentance with either "niner" or "over." And start each sentance with "banana."
3. Answer the phone scream "Caaaaptaaaaaiiiiin Caaaaaaveeeeemaaaaan!" and then hang up.
4. Call someone and then ask them "So where are you at?" (This doesn't work as well if you are calling their cell phone)
5. If someone you don't want to talk to calls you just tell them that your phone doesn't work.
6. Call someone and when they pick up just keep dialing numbers. Once the people catch on tell them to hold on because you are doing your taxes and ask if they know where the "+" sign is.
7. Get a friend and ask them to make prank phone calls with you. Then call someone and once they answer pull down your pants and moon the phone...then hang up and start laughing...then no matter what your friend says say "You're just mad because you didn't think of it."
8. Answer the phone and say "How many times do I have to tell you that I won't accept a collect call from Georgie Porgie." Then hang up.
9. Start dialing random numbers and try selling things that you don't use and are just lieing around the house.
10. For you answering machine message leave a busy signal.
11. Call someone and ask them if their phone smells like feet.
12. Next time someone calls and asks you to switch long distance plans tell them you already have a set of encylopedias.
13. Call the operator and ask if they have done any surgeries today...then laugh uncontrollably
14. Carry your cordless phone around with you and insist on telling people that it is your mobile phone.
15. Call a random number and order 6 tacos and 5 corndogs, with a side of meatballs, then say there is an extra fiver if you get it here in 15 minutes.
16. Phones just aren't really all that fun.

i have writers block!

2011-09-13T18:41:00.000-07:00

So waaaaaaaaaay back when I got my first computer and I was at my old 24k speed modem I had a webpage called...www.users.uswest.net/~bige52...Today I decided to go back and read some of the things I wrote. The very first thing I ever made was a wacky page with a bright red background and green font that was just a scanned picture of Joel Pryzbilla, and me talking about how I wanted the same basketball shoes. But then I also had this list of things which I called "Number 1s" because Letterman had a top 10 but mine were all number one. Here is the first one I wrote and I think it's pretty damn funny for a 17 year old!

Things to do in/on the airport/airplane

1. Ask the guy next to you if he could hold on to your bowling ball candle while he is on the plane.
2. Try starting the wave.
3. While waiting for the plane keep winking at the pay phone, and say "I see ya baby."
4. If you are asked what seat number you have say "the nosebleed section" then laugh three and a half times.
5. Get on the plane last, and when you walk down the row give everyone high fives.
6. Try to get everyone line dancing.
7. Stand up on the plane and ask if anyone has seen your pet snake. Then say that he's probably chasing your pet rat.
8. When they ask you if you want something to drink say "No thanks. I'm a vegetarian."
9. Sit in the isle and say to the person near the window "Hey it's a little stuffy in here, do you think you could open the window for a little bit?" Then no matter what they say respond with 'Hey, no need to get snippy about it."
10. Always wear a snorkel when you're on the plane.
11. Ask the flight attendant for a doggy bag for your barf bag.
12. As soon as you get on the plane start grabbing all the pillows you can find, and try to make a fort
13. Keep calling the flight attendant "waitress" and the person next to you "Joe".
14. Every 7 minutes scream out DA DA DA DA DADA CHARGE!!!!
15. Say to the guy next to you "Man, this is the strangest train I've ever been on!"
16. If there is a woman next to you say "I sure hope the movie is a porno"...and start singing some kind of porno music.
17. When you get on the plane sign as loud as you can "I believe I can fly, I believe the can touch the sky..."
18. Keep insisting that you smell jet fuel.
19. Keep repeating out loud "The planes in Spain fall mainly while it rains."

Should I try to write again?

2011-09-09T13:59:00.001-07:00

I think I might try to start writing for the paper again. Although I'm not even sure they would have me. I definitely have a unique perspective on life that I think others in the area need to hear. Being a gay man, one who was “known” in the area I feel my voice still has some weight. But my thoughts of writing do not come without reservations. I am not scared to say what I think. I'm not fearful of being harmed for writing about being a gay man in Northern Minnesota. I have no fear of being ostracized in the community. Oh I'm sure there will be a lot of gossip, but that's nothing new. I'm sure it will be just like before, some people will love me, others will hate me quietly. My main concern is that my father will still be here. Where as before he was so proud to read my articles and hear others talk about it, I'm not sure he will feel the same way about what I want to say now. Then again he will most likely deal with it in his midwest manner of just ignoring that it exists and going about his day as usual.

But I have a lot to say. Especially since next year the state of Minnesota will be voting on whether to deny gays the right to marry. Not only do I have a lot to say about being gay but I also have much to say about the community. It is dieing...slowly. It is sad to see and there are so many resistant to change. Someone has to speak up. We need jobs, we need education, and we need an open mind. Eh...may be it's not a great idea that I write for the paper, I feel like I'd be writing looking to start a fight.

Here's the problem...

2011-07-10T14:40:00.000-07:00

Ok i don't know what the problem is but damned if I don't have all the answers. Today is my day off from work. I really don't know what to do with myself on my days off. I have a hard enough time trying to be sane for the 30 minutes each workday I have to myself...let alone an entire day!!?!??! It's too much...i can't handle it. Everything I do I feel like I should be doing something else. Last time I had a day off I drove to work and studied and did laundry...and ended up doing work for free...and I prefer that to this!
Today I cleaned up my dads house a little and chatted with him...it shouldn't be hard to talk with your father but maaaaaaan...ugh. He's always loved to tell me the story about how when my mom first had cancer and started treatment, she found out she was pregnant with me...how the doctor said I was a miracle...and how I was the only baby to make it..blah blah blah. It really is a nice story if you hear it...the problem is that I really can't believe any story he tells anymore so who knows...for all I know they found me in a trash can at Hardee's and decided to keep me (pleeeease let this be true). Anyway since he found out I'm off the vagina this story has taken a new twist and therefor has moved up on his list of stories. So now I hear about Homer the wonder dog, how my highschool math teacher Mrs. Bidle told him i was so smart (which probably went something like, "Derek is really smart...but he refuses to do his homework.) and now how I was hooked up to a million tubes and wires as a baby and how he was mad about it but the nun told him it was ok because I was the only one to be able to hold a bottle...(i was always a really good eater so that's probably true). But then he says, "Yeah the doctor said you could have changes later in life...I don't know what he meant by that." Aka "It's ok your gay..." I love the guy but...he's crazy as a loon.

Anyway like I said I've been working a lot. I work at work...i eat at work...i sleep at work...I take my days off at work...I dream about work...work work work work. AAAAAAAaaand I'm still poor. Go figure. Being back up north is both a strange mix of relaxing and frustrating. There are times at night when the sun is going down and the lake is calm and the docks are empty and I feel almost at peace, then usually someone farts (me) and the moment passes. No really all I am missing is someone to sit next to me (cue the dramatic and slightly sad violin music).

Besides that, I've been attempting to remind myself that there is a world out there by reading the news...which reminds me...Michele Bachman's husband is flaaaaming. It both makes me laugh and a little sick that heruns a clinic that "teaches gays how to be straight." I've seen slinkys that are straighter than that dude. It's one thing to be in the closet...it's another to fool around on the downlow...it's a new low to spend your time to convince others that being gay is wrong just so you can feel better about yourself.

Minneapolis Pride...who knew?

2011-06-28T16:28:00.000-07:00

Part 1

So one day I was at work devouring a pizza when I get a few texts from my cousin. She was very excited about me going down to the cities and she may have been drinking as the message didn't quite make sense to me. First of all...I was not aware that I had any days off. Apparently she had set it all up for me so that I could enjoy one day of pride in sunny Minneapolis, MN.
So I finished work on Saturday, showered in a houseboat, put on my best driving clothes and jumped into the Trailblazer. It wasn't long before I was completely bored. I tried listening to my Spanish lessons but I was too busy day dreaming about the upcoming weekend. What was pride in Minnesota going to be like?!?! I hadn't exactly had the greatest of times at any pride in Texas...well that's not true. I had great times at each Pride but really it was just because I was with fun people...everything else was kind of an after thought. So as I made my way down to the big city I called my cousin to see what she had instore....turns out that she had nothing instore. In fact...she wasn't even answering the phone. Luckily my other cousin was more than willing to pick up the slack and we made plans to spend the evening. So I spent the first night eating sushi and taking in all the action going around me. After a brief sleep my other cousin called me in the morning to inform me that I was not only going to the parade...but I was actually IN the parade. So I just kind of went with it.

The good thing was that I actually got to see a lot of the parade. We were something like the 116th group/float and it was nearish the end. Also I wasn't complaining that we were behind this badass all black drum line either. As I watched the floats go past waiting for our turn a few things struck me...first of all, there were a lot of floats that really have nothing to do with gay pride. Like the END WAR float. Sure, I guess on the surface that is a good thought. War usually sucks for all involved...but what does that have to do with gay pride? I guess you have to think of them as an organization and not the message but that is difficult to do. I just didnt' really like that there were people trying to "end war" while the rest of us are trying to get equality. Let's stay on message here.

Another thing that I knew would happen but was still surprised people bothered were the strange protesters there. There would be these random guys with cardboard signs and messages written on them. They all really looked homeless to me, which is why I guess they have the kind of time to try to go by themselves to convince gay people god hates them. The thing I really didn't understand was how little effort they put into it! I mean for real...you're trying to convince a group of gay dudes dressed in Gucci that your path is the right path and you show up with pants 4 sizes to big held together by an orange extension cord, and two different sized shoes!?!? Also...he had spelled lesbian wrong. I tried telling him that but I think he just thought I said being a lesbian was wrong and he started to talk with me and I just kept throwing candy at him until he went away.

Finally it came time for us to walk and that's when I realized another flaw in our plan...we were throwing the worst candy ever! Who the hell wants those gross ass red and white mint candies you get for free at every business everywhere!?!? If our group was handing out that candy for Halloween we would of been egged for sure. Here we are trying to bribe children to believe gays are cool and we are handing them inferior candy...hell half of the kids I gave it to threw it back at us....

2011-06-28T16:03:00.000-07:00

So now that I am back up state (that's what I'm now calling Northern Minnesota...sounds so much fancier...like eat with utensils fancy!) I've been spending time with friends and family again. Really nothing has changed but it's a little weird since I haven't seen many of them since my coming out party (there is still time to get me a gift if you forgot...preferably jerky). Anyway things have been pretty good since coming up here. I work a lot and I'm trying to learn Spanish by myself and those two things keep me tied up pretty much all day (your lame tied up joke here _______). The one thing about being back is that I have learned I could never live here. May be if I was married and had a family...then I could do it. I'd actually LOVE to live here. The people here are just as I remembered. The bad people really aren't all that bad. People are laid back. There's not as much drama....but I just couldn't do it. It's all the little things I've come to expect in life. I can't find good internet. Which is really annoying when you have a Skype date with a Mexican every Sunday night at 10 pm. It takes FOREVER to get anywhere worth going. There's only a handful of places to go eat. The grocery store is closed when I go to work and closed when I get home from work. I'm convinced nobody ever is able to actually go in the library with their weird hours, and worst of all...there are very few gays. Oh sure. They are out there. I've seen them. I can hear them howl at night. And it's not that I'm looking for a quick hookup...it's that I'd like to have A gay friend up here. Someone under the age of 40 who hasn't sent me a picture of their penis would be preferable. I guess I'm not really trying that hard. All my best friends are kind of close to here anyway. Why go out of my way to meet new friends when the people I've liked the most for my entire life are within driving distance anyway? Plus like I said...I work a lot. Well..I'm AT work a lot! Haha. Most nights I have just enough time to go home, shower, put in a movie, and fall asleep before it even gets started.

My triumphant return

2011-05-18T13:02:00.000-07:00

So I'm back in God's country. That's right, Angora, MN just had a population boom (goes the dynamite). Being back up north is a strange mix of good and bad and weird and new and old and the same and the color purple...I'm not sure I can find the words to describe it but I'm told they are in the Dictionary.

Everything is the same really, but everything stills feels different and I can't help but think that maybe it's not the town that's changed...may be it's me. dramatic pause as I look off into the distance with a solemn expression. A bird crows in the distance and for the first time you understand love.

No but for realz (as the kids say), things are different. Sure there is a different water tower, my dad has stripped half of his property of trees, and the roads in town have a slightly different configuration, but the changes I recognize the most are my own.

I went and got a hair cut today. I first tried the two salon's in town and they were both booked for the entire day, which I find ridiculous. Why is this small town getting so many damn haircuts?!?! So instead I went to the old stand by, the Gay Blade. Or i guess it's really called The Hair Place. It's the same guy that's cut my hair for the last i dunno...15 years? He's not quite as fast but he still gets the job done. But as I sat there getting my hair did, I looked up and realized there were three deer heads mounted on the wall and each of them was positioned so that it was looking directly into my soul. I found it oddly amusing...really only in Minnesota would this happen. When I was in Austin I would get my hair cut at Sports Clips which was designed for men...but now I understand the truth...THIS is where men get their hair cut. Not at Sports Clips. There are no fancy TV's on the wall at The Hair Place. There are dead dear staring you in the face!

Anyway I would like to give a special shout out to Mary Conger . She is a good gal, and once you get past the smell she's a catch. Thanks Mary!

Mythbuster/creator

2011-04-27T11:08:00.000-07:00

I decided that since I'm pretty sure I can't fix the crazy in the world that I"m just going to join them. People don't care about facts anymore...they just look for things that reaffirm what they already believe, so I'm just going to make some things up and hope they catch on.

1. Obama was not only born in Africa, he's also secretly white.
   It's true. I dare Obama to release his credit card information so that we can see the millions of dollars he spends on shoe polish each year. NOBODY HAS THAT MANY SHOES! He's obviously a white dude. (side note he looks slightly like Alfred E. Newman as a white man) Also I saw him throw a baseball...he's not an athlete. He talks like a white guy. I didn't hear him say "Homie" once in any of his speeches...who does he think he's fooling? Not me or Donald Trump, I'll tell you that! He's only claiming to be black to secure the minority vote in America and it worked. So I think we should all start a petition to make him release all his credit card information because I can't think of a single reason why he wouldn't do it besides the fact that he's trying to hide that he's really white.

2. Homosexuals recruit young men.
   I am here by stating that yes I was recruited. When I turned 18 I got a letter in the mail from the Army, the Navy, and the FDA (Fairy Dust Academy). After weighing my many options and only after being aproved for a low interest loan I finally decided to become Gay. That totally not anti-gay Senator from Montana was onto something. WE DO recruit. Duh. How else would there be gay people? I was very happy living my life perusing the vagina when this man in rainbow fatigues jumped out of the bushes and convinced me to be gay. My reasoning was that since everyone is so understanding and not bigoted in any way there was no reason for me to not easily switch sides and be gay. I mean penis...vagina...who cares right?!!? All it takes is a smooth talking gay to make all those hetero boys change teams. It's obviously not intense social and religious pressure for them to hide their sexuality....

3. Bacon is bad for you...bacon grease however will make you immortal.
   Doctors are out to get you but they do it in a clever way. See they want to keep you aging so you get old and sick and then they buy yachts in the Caribbean and drink Shirley Temples out of goblets made of crystallized dinosaur bones. Here is the truth, and you can trust me I read medical files for a living...I have an inside source. Bacon Grease hardens your arteries which not only lets the blood flow throw faster but also prevents them from distributing the aging drug that has been released into the air by the man who invented the nursing home. It all makes perfect sense if you close one eye and bang your head on your desk.

4. Aliens exist but there is no such things as flying saucers.
   It's really just giants playing frisbee. Quit being stupid.

5. Listen this is the most important and I don't think I have much time. I probably shouldn't be wasting all this time telling you how much time I don't have at the moment. I think someone is on to me and my truth sharing blog. But I must get this final crucial piece out before they shut me down. I really can't stress enough how much tim....

6. Nothing to see here folks. All is well. Please keep breathing the air.

I decided to let someone cut my hair

2011-03-28T12:49:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I finally bit the bullet and got a hair cut. Just so you know...i look damn good. I've been needing one badly for about 5 hundred years (give or take some major exaggeration). The problem I have with hair cuts is that they are so damn expensive and I am convinced that went people look at my hair all they see is color, put in a trance, and are unable to properly explain what they are looking at. I say this because nobody ever seems to agree with me that I need a haircut nor that I ever had my hair cut. Yet they all are convinced that I've spent hundreds of thousands of dollars dying my hair to match the color of pure sunshine.

I think though...i found someone I like. No offense to my hair cutting friends out there, but men just don't need a haircut over $15. I don't need it styled, and dyed, and primped...it makes no sense. I've had the $50 haircuts. I've had the $10 hair cuts...it's all the same. I'm not saying there isn't skill involved. I once tried doing it myself and it was a national disaster. FEMA still hasn't recovered. It made dogs howl. It was the one issue republicans and democrats agreed on. Caused cancer in lab mice...Even Charlie Sheen thought I looked crazy...ok i'll stop. I think the problem was that I tried using meat shears...but who is to say.

Anywho. I went in and got my much needed haircut. There were 6 stylists and one of them was going to win the opportunity to get me to sit in the chair and not talk to them. Which reminds me. Why do they all INSIST on chatting ...just cut my damn hair. I don't want to be buddies. Do a good job and I'l come back...I'm not coming back because you asked me how my day was and talked about your vacation to Mexico. I just don't want to chat when I'm getting a hair cut and two things usually happen. One, they feel weird that I'm not talking, which makes me feel weird, which pisses me off. I'm not rude, I just give short answers which one would assume means I"m not really in a chatty mood. But nooooo...stylists seem to be completely shocked that anyone anywhere doesn't want to banter on about hair cutting gossip. So either we both start feeling weird or they don't even seem to notice and they just babble. This usually leads to the most inane one sided conversations. If you let people talk they will tell you the most private things for no damn reason. (There are old blogs here somewhere about a racist stylist, and a dude who was trying to hide porn from his wife who he hated.)

But this day I was lucky, and luck was a lady. She looked and sounded like an imitation of Gloria from Modern Family. There is one thing and one thing only that will actually make me want to hear you talk and that's having a sexy Latin accent. growl. Not the "I don't really speak English Latin" accent, but the "I speak English perfectly fine but I still sound sexual" Latin accent. She was all, "Aye Papi, how jew whant me to cut jewr air?"

Conversation started as usual. She asked me what I was doing and blah blah blah...But then her conversation started getting oddly factual. Somehow she slipped in that she was done at 7 and single. She also was slyly asking whether I lived close by and if I had a girlfriend. I admit...I flirted some, i mean obviously that's not going anywhere but hey it was fun. Plus she had this long nails and was massaging my scalp and it felt uhmazing. Then while she had me in her grasp she asked if I wanted to just got a piano bar later and just reeeelax. And I had to tell her that I played for the other team. She was a little embarrassed but was nice about it.

Anyway. The end result was actually a really good haircut. I think I should of had her cut the sides a little shorter but there are no lines and it's even. She does good work. Hooray Super Cuts...haha.

until next time,

D

Smooth with the Ladies.

2011-03-19T09:34:00.000-07:00

Two days ago I went into work and saw that this girl Elana who I really like working with was there. Her and I almost never work at the same times and when we do it's never in the same areas so we rarely get to chat. I just think she's a little funny and she's good at her job so I enjoy it.

Anyway something is a little off about Elana and I'm having a really hard time figuring out what it is. I see her in the back before I've started and I go up to her and tell her, "Hey, you look different somehow today." She kind of gives me a weird look and then someone else comes up behind me and distracts me and when I turn back to her she is already gone. I'm really busy that day so I don't really get much of a chance to talk with her. Every once in a while though I'd be around her and something is different. She looks...magnified somehow...like someone cropper her out of a photo, enlarged her, and then cropper her back in so that she looked bigger. NOT fatter...just bigger. I can't figure out if it's just that I"m closer to her now or what...So I keep staring at her and something is definitely different. So I tell her, "I can't figure out what is different...I think it's your hair...it's prettier in some way." And she kind of blushes. And then we are back to work...the entire time I'm working though I can't stop thinking about what it is. Was she always that tall? I can't put my finger on it. I keep seeing her out of the corner of my eye and I just can't figure it out.

Finally about 4 hours into my shift someone asks me to show something to Hailey on the computer. My first response is, "Who the hell is Hailey?!?!" And they go..."The girl you've been ringing with all day." And finally...it hits me...ELANA IS HAILEY!!! That's why she looked so different! White girls all look the same.

The Time I lost to a drag queen in a dating game...

2010-12-16T14:10:00.003-08:00

Showing some Pride

This year I experienced my first “Pride” festivities. Although there was that one time when some friends and I were playing Frisbee and somehow ended up at a festival by accident. This year though I went on purpose, and like a pimp I was riding solo. I had no idea what to expect and as far as I could gather there was going to both be a parade and a festival of sorts(btw what kind of parade doesn't have candy?).

The first Pride I went to was in Austin. I went to where the festival was being held and was a little annoyed that I had to pay $10 (HOORAY YOU ARE GAY!! now give us 10 dollars...). The main thing I instantly noticed was that it is 100 million degrees outside in Austin during the summer (Celsius and Fahrenheit…it’s an anomaly like that). My second thought was, “Damn, this is really lame.” Most of the booths consisted of random churches and businesses and then a few homosexual organizations. Then again I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting (dancing bears and fireworks?) After paying ten dollars though, I was dead set on seeing and doing everything this little festival had to offer (damn i'm getting cheap). First I walked around and got as much free crap from the booths as I could. It didn’t matter John Johnson at 1234 Johnson Drive filled out every application there was. I enrolled in 4 different churches, 2 different insurance agencies, countless petitions one for gay marriage, one against gay marriage, and I even signed up for a free window estimate on my house I had made up for myself (i could use more space but he backyard is to die for). I also decided to do one of those free screenings by a chiropractor to see how my posture is. Turns out I’m dying and if I don’t go to the chiropractor instantly and repeatedly for many months I will wake up one morning looking like a pretzel (chiropractors never lie). After going through and picking up free swag I took inventory. I had about 20 condoms(brown chicken brown cow), three fans, a couple beer cozies, and countless pens and other crap. Oh I also had one balloon, which was given to me with the best pickup line I’ve ever been told(second place is “Woof”). This boy gave me the balloon to which I instantly refused, but he won me over when he said, “It’s so I can find you later at the parade.” Smooooooth. Later I gave it to a little girl who was crying because she dropped her ice cream (hero?). I wonder if that made for an awkward moment later…

After throwing away all that free garbage I was diiiiiieing of hungriness (it had been at least an hour since eating last). After deciding there was no damn way I was paying 12 dollars for a burger and a drink I walked out of the festival and went to Whataburger down the street and ate for like 5 bucks (I’m gay, not stupid). After filling my belly with countless refills of Coke Zero I went back to the festival where I met up with some people I kind of knew a little bit. I walked around with my friend and we ended up signing up for some dating game show. I only signed up because I was promised that they had enough people already and I was going to be an alternate. Also, at the time there was the lesbian version of the dating game going on and like three people and 1 poodle were watching. When the time came for the gay version I found myself called to the stage. Obviously my flowing blonde mane was too pretty to hide from the world and I was given a chair. Unfortunately my competition was a giant drag queen and my friend who I had signed up with. Also as I sat there I noticed that having a giant drag queen on stage attracted quite a large crowd and even the poodle seemed to invite it a litter of other puppies. So there I was, gay for a minute and thrust into the open. I had succeeded at being seen. The dating game went awfully bad. First of all I had no prior gay relationship experience to draw upon when asked questions and secondly I was always following the drag queen. The joke was that the main person was blind folded and if he picked the drag queen he wouldn’t know it. But it was a hard act to follow and made my already glaring lameness quite obvious. When asked whether she/he would rather watch the Sex in the City movie or the NBA finals the drag queen responded with, “I’d like to dribble your balls and then have sex in the city.” My answer was “I’d rather watch basketball.” Mostly because I’d rather do that than anything else, but also because I had no idea what Sex in the City was at the time. In the end I lost to the drag queen which stung a little. Luckily the guy that was blindfolded was fat and ugly and stupid and probably hated ice cream and babies (see not bitter at all).

Later that night I went to my first gay parade and it was…gay. By the time the parade came by it was dark out and the street did not do a good job of lighting the event. Add to that it was mostly people I’ve never heard of in my life waving on the top of convertibles and you get one bored blonde guy. The highlight was when I was standing there and these two ladies came up to me and said, “O M GOD!??! You’re contestant number 3!! You lost to a drag queen!!” (bitches).

Karaoke Crooner

2010-12-16T14:10:00.001-08:00

Hello children, gather around the ol’ laptop it’s story time.

These past 8 months I have been making a conscious decision of trying to be an actual social human being (no more blogging in the basement for me!). It is true that mostly this involves me going places and then standing around playing on my phone, but still I have made great strides. I have met some pretty awesome people (you) and some people who are not so awesome (someone else), but either way they have left me with quite a few stories to tell.

The third time I ever went to the homosexual dance institution just so happened to be Karaoke night. I had already decided that OCH was a decent enough place to hang. It has a sports bar, pool, and darts…pretty much all I need to survive.

I entered the bar and instantly felt stupid because the doorman recognized me already and didn’t feel the need to check my ID anymore. This made me both feel like a barfly and old at the same time. After further delusional consideration I came to the conclusion that they probably don’t check P. Diddy for ID either (I got swagga like that). Anyway…entering the bar I realized it was karaoke night and as with most things in the gay world, I was both intensely horrified and completely intrigued.

I had always wanted to do karaoke and I figured this was another good step in me getting out of the “Comfort Zone” which is a lot like the “Twilight Zone” but with more pillows and less vampires. I made my way to the bartender which I thought was the cutest and ordered myself a diet coke…which he charged me for! This was really throwing a wrench into my “I’m just like P. Diddy” delusion…I was trying to give the bartender my mean mug but his smile was like sunshine and I ended up tipping him 2 dollars for a $1.50 diet coke (you win this round).

Now that I had my drink I needed to find a place to lurk. I had learned from past mistakes and ruled out the inviting dark corner next to the garbage can. Instead I went and stood by the karaoke book and pretended to look up songs. As I stood there casually thumbing through the songs a large man with a truly epic mustache and beard got up and sang “Like a Virgin” by Madonna. With my first choice of song taken (jk) I decided to go with “Say it Ain’t So” by Weezer. I knew all the words plus I wreck at it on Rockband. I handed in my song to the DJ and then ran into the sports bar to get away from the onslaught of show tunes that followed.

Eventually my name was called and I boldly made my way to stage (walk soft carry a big stick). As the
music started I realized I was more nervous than I thought, as I looked down my leg quivered. Luckily it looked more like I was dancing than being a little girl so it worked in my favor. I sang my bacon clogged heart out as the familiar words scrolled across the screen. As I sang this random lady snuck up behind me and squeezed my butt(hands to yourself!). It startled me for a moment but I soldiered on. After finishing I didn’t dare make eye contact with anyone but I heard what sounded like a roar of approval (in other words one guy clapped). Fortunately I had made a fan while I was on stage; unfortunately he happened to be a homeless man who had snuck into the bar. For some reason I was unable to find the words to tell him to bugger off. It didn’t help that he was very polite and was so far the most interaction I had encountered at the gay bar. He first started with a complement, telling me I was by far his favorite singer of the night. I’d like to say I’m above flattery but I’m really not. From there conversation was all downhill. He explained to me in the most lucid of tones how he was happy that he was finally off all his medication (conversation starter). Well not ALL his medication. He was still “taking” weed. Which he prescribed himself (he’s not just CEO of crazy, he’s a client). He was now going to start a website dedicated to his weed business (all about networking). He was also looking for people to move to Hawaii with him so he could start growing weed in the jungle. It all made perfect sense if you were a homeless man who happened to be off his medication, I was rather skeptical.

Dear Straight Man,

2010-12-16T14:09:00.003-08:00

Of the different groups of people in the world I would say that straight men are the most scared of homosexuals. For whatever reason some of them find it very threatening. At their best I would say most straight men are indifferent. I’m not going to even get into the whole psychological reasons for this, because as a straight man…you don’t want to hear it. But there are plenty of reasons why you should be wishing for a day when gay and straight men not only have equal rights but are seen as equal in society.

I’m a straight man. Could of fooled me, but having gay friends has a lot of benefits. First of all, gay men are no threat to your ability to woo a woman. In fact, just the opposite. For whatever reason, many gay men have a lot of straight female friends. How many of your bro’s have flocks of straight female friends? But my friend Steve knows a lot of females. True…your buddy Steve is a chick magnet/slut. However, how many of them has he already hooked up with? I’m fine with sloppy seconds. How many of them does he want to hook up with? All of them. And how many are trying to hook up him? The rest of them. You notice one thing? None of Steve’s friends that are girls are friends with Steve because they want to hook up with you. Funny how that works.

Now imagine that next week you leave your buddy Steve at home to watch World Series of Poker on ESPN and to crush cans with his forehead (this is obviously what I used to do when I was straight). Instead you go out with your gay best friend…uh…Erik (super gay name…Erik). First of all, Erik probably has lady friends. These are going to be females who spend time with Erik because he represents everything they want in a man and is safe, but they are also sexually frustrated because they have no chance with him. Let’s be honest…this is your best chance at anything. Let’s ask the same questions. How many of them has Erik hooked up with? I’m so sure. How many does he want to hook up with? Shoot me now. How many are trying to hook up with him? Goose egg. Have you noticed how there is no competition? That makes the game a little easier and you need all the help you can get. The question is really…why should a gay man want to hang out with you?

I already have a girlfriend, thank you very much. If for some reason you already have a woman you should REALLY be ok with homosexuals. Every straight man should bring their girl to the gay club. She does kind of nag me for never bringing her out. Yeah, well you’re kind of a douche and probably should. Bringing her to a gay club, there is ZERO chance she leaves with another man (unless you’re really bad at this). She has no other options besides you. I hate dancing though. You don’t even have to dance. Go buy a beer and stand and watch. What if some dude grinds her? Uh…he’s gay, it might as well be your grandmother. Ok fine, but what if some chick starts hitting on her? Think about that again. OH MY GOD…she could totally make out with another chick…wait there are lesbians everywhere!! Yeah I knew you’d come around. Fine but I don’t want any gay dudes hitting on me. If someone hits on you, tell them you’re straight. We don’t have pamphlets like you have…we’re not trying to send you to Camp Rainbow and convert you. Also get over yourself

Gay bars are rather gay

2010-12-16T14:09:00.001-08:00

Now my writing is probably going to be pretty gayed up for a little bit. It’ll be a lot like my old writing but more glittery and if you read it too much you’ll probably turn homosexual. (Sorry that’s just how it works) I’ve always liked writing and now I can share with you some of the stories I have. The purpose of these writings will hopefully show people that it’s just not that different. Also I know some people who care for me are interested in my shenanigans so maybe this will quench that thirst slightly. Mainly though, I like it when people read what I write…I’m an attention whore like that.
Today I’ll share with you the first time I went to one of those homosexual dance clubs. I wrote it then so I’ll just leave it as if it just happened. So much has changed…ok not really.

…tonight I did something for the first time. I went to a gay bar all by myself, like a big boy (look ma no hands!). 2 days ago was the first time I ever went to a gay bar, but that was with a friend. And by friend I mean some guy I had just met who didn’t seem the type to murder me in my sleep (BFFs fo’ life). I didn’t want to go by myself but I decided I needed to stop being a wuss and just bite the bullet and go. Mostly it was because if I spent one more night on the couch I was going to go on a murdering spree, and you would of seen my picture on the news and you’d of been all, “Oh snap I think that guy sent me a message on facebook…I knew he was an ax murderer. I could tell by the way he listed “ax murdering” in his Interests and his Activities.” So I went out. Now that I knew where the bar was I figured what the duck…couldn’t hurt.
Instantly upon entering the bar my glaring social shortcomings came to light. I have no ability to walk up to someone in the club. First off, I need a better pick up line than, “Yo THICKNESS! You gonna let me hit that or what!?!?” Seriously though, it wasn’t like I was there to meet someone, I just wanted to make some friends and explore. The problem with meeting someone at the club is that I want to get to know you. It's really hard to get to know someone though with strobe lights, loud music, and they are slightly in the bag. Basically conversation breaks down to yelling spittle in each other's faces...not exactly ideal. So my big idea...let them come to me. Genius right? I decided for the first time in my life to put out, “the vibe.” Turns out that look, for me, is an odd mixture of “I really have to pee” + “I just peed.” So I scrapped the entire, “The Vibe” plan and I pretty much just stood on the wall like I was at my first high school dance. I don't really drink, I can't dance, and I squint a lot....which makes me look like I'm scowling. To counter act this I decided to stand there not squinting as much as possible. So if you saw a dude in the corner standing next to the garbage can looking like an owl...that was me. SEX EEEEEE! After not squinting for a while I decided what I needed was a drink in my hand. Obviously this was what was keeping everyone from fighting over my phone number. They would see me standing next to the garbage and think, "Wow he looks like an owl...and he has a drink...I want." So I went to the bar to get a drink... Diet Coke. It was free! Realizing that I now had the super power to drink as much free Diet Coke as I wanted, I took full advantage...now that I think about it, I ended up tipping like 5 bucks that night so really I didn't come out ahead, but still I'm going to say I took them for all they were worth. The problem with this plan was that I now became the wide eyed guy standing next to the garbage that also spends a suspicious amount of time going into the bathroom (stud?).
After some time at the bar staring at people and spending more time on my phone looking up basketball scores than I care to admit, I did a loop and I ran into my friend. He was basically the only person I knew who was gay. He introduced me to his friend and now I knew two gay people (100% increase…success). Around the same time a friend messaged me and said I should go to a different club called Rain. Not really being familiar with the area, I had no idea where this Rain could be located but I figured it would be better than standing where I was, feelin’ like a fool. I looked it up on my phone and realized it was right next door…S-M-R-T. For some reason I decided to just take a walk around the block first, and midway back wouldn’t you know it…It started to rain. Of course it was pouring, and I was stuck at a cross walk with nowhere to go, when two girls came up next to me and both had umbrellas. We exchanged glances and I thought I had communicated, “Hey ladies help me out and hold your umbrella over my head while we wait for this light.” But apparently what I said was, “Hey ladies please both stand right next to me so not only do you not cover me with your umbrellas but the runoff from your umbrellas goes directly on me.” I really have to work on my subtle eye contact conversations. I decided to just run across the road, cars be damned (frogger anyone?) only to find that there was a line to get in the bar called Rain. Luckily there was an awning…unluckily the line was just long enough where I wasn’t under it. It didn’t matter though, I was already soaking wet.
Eventually I made it into Rain and didn’t really understand the difference between that and the other bar I was just in. But I bought a diet coke…walked around…decided to go back to the other bar and use the bathroom because the line was too long at Rain.
Then I spent the rest of the night trying to act natural…which of course made me even more un-natural. The only people I talked with were a transvestite with a moustache and a super drunk straight 45 year old woman who told me I was the most gorgeous person she had ever seen. I admit I was still flattered and felt almost good about myself for 10 seconds until she started throwing up in and around the garbage can I was standing next to.

Top Then things about Being gay

2010-12-16T14:08:00.000-08:00

Top 10 things about being gay:

Free Skittles…it’s true look it up.
I’m a minority which means I get to say whatever I want about people and it’s ok. Black people like watermelon and grape soda! Women are dumb and Asian people can’t drive! It’s ok…I’m gay. See how that works! (full disclosure, I too like watermelon and grape soda, can’t drive and am pretty dumb.)
Those things on my shirt are now suddenly fashion statements instead of chili stains.
Free drinks at the bar.
I am thought to have an encyclopedic like knowledge of sports amongst my circle of friends. Watch…In baseball points are called “runs.” Impressive…
My ability to change a tire makes me seem useful. Put on the parking brake fool
I never have to worry about anyone ever getting pregnant!
No more being forced to watch shows like Sex in the City or romantic comedies, having to go shopping or gossiping about Lindsey Loh…uh…never mind.
I learned who Lady Gaga is! Interesting fact…there is no Lord Gaga.
My unfortunately extremely blonde hair is finally of some use!

I'm gay...now go ahead and tell me to my face

2010-12-16T14:06:00.003-08:00

How I know being gay is normal and you’re a jerkass and a bigot for thinking ANYTHING otherwise.

Wait I’m not a bigot:
You see nothing wrong with gay people, you just don’t want them getting married, teaching your children, going to your church, eating by you in public, or in any way showing that they exist. Sorry sir, but words have meanings…you’re a bigot.

Ok but the Bible says it’s wrong:
Even worshiping the Devil is not illegal. I’m not an expert…but I think the Bible is against that too. Also not to be harsh on the good book, but it’s track record isn’t exactly squeaky clean. There are a lot of ideals in there written by humans and interpreted by humans and then taught to other humans…humans aren’t robots, things get mixed up. Not to mention that it doesn’t specifically say anything about marriage being between one man and one woman. In fact Abraham, Jacob, David, Solomon and the kings of Judah and Israel—all of these fathers and heroes were polygamists. There is Leviticus which specifically calls man on man action “an abomination” but if you were to read the rest of Leviticus you might find it’s advice on most matters quite antiquated. It talks about treatment for leprosy, cleanliness rituals for menstruating women…by sacrificing goats, lambs and turtle doves. Also it tells you the way to get the best deal on buying a slave. I'm all for getting a deal, don't get me wrong, but I think almost everyone agrees slavery is wrong…the Bible though not so much. So while the Bible may have a lot of great ideals and morals and stories, there’s no way you should be trying to live your life exactly by a 2,000 year old book. Of course again, this is America. We may still trust in god, but last I checked we kind of built ourselves on religious freedoms.

Clearly it’s a choice:
Anyone who says this is a closet homesexual…period. If you think we chose to be gay then that must mean you chose to be straight, which means you feel the same way about men as I do, it’s just that you CHOSE to date women. Sorry bud, but that makes you gay. You like penis, but you’re a coward, and you chose vagina. You want to live your life as a lie? Go for it. But don’t get mad that I don’t want to do that anymore. I guess I could date girls, live a loveless life, treat her like crap, and eventually end up cheating on her with some dude in a bathroom stall because I’m so desperate for the feeling of love I’ll stoop to any level to receive just a fraction of it. It’s clearly not a choice and if it was, nobody would CHOOSE to be gay. Being gay is hard and in fact a lot of gays TRY to not be gay. I did. I tried dating girls for years and it did nothing for me. I had zero man on man contact for 28 years and I was STILL gay. I can’t say it enough. Nobody chooses to be gay, some gays chose to act straight, but no straight man has ever in the history of the world chose to be gay. You’re a real asshole if you want people to live loveless lives just so that you don’t have to feel weird about two dudes kissing.

Marriage is for a man and a woman, and anything else diminishes it’s importance:
This is the worst argument yet. That somehow marriage is such an esteemed union that two men or two women getting married ruins the value of everyone else’s marriage. Never mind the fact that people on death row can get married. That’s right. I can go around killing and raping babies and if I can find a woman to marry me there is nobody that can stop me. But if I want to marry a man that I’m in love with and been with for years...well that sir is a mockery of marriage. PUH-LEASE…Don’t 50% of marriages end in divorce anyway? I wonder how many of those are gay men and women becoming fed up with acting straight? Do I think a church should have the ability to deny homosexual marriages? Yup, I do. That is their right to do their religion however they want. But does the government have that right? HELL NO! Oh wait, may be we can call it “civil unions” and everything will be fine. That’s the biggest bunch of bullshit I’ve ever heard. What if we had told black people that their marriages had to be called civil unions? How do you think that would go? ANY difference in treatment of homosexuals is outright bigotry.

We can’t afford it:
I hadn’t heard this argument until a few weeks ago and it literally blew my mind. I don’t remember her name and really I don’t care to know her name but there was a woman running for senate or for the house in Wisconsin and she said something along the lines of, “I have nothing against gay people, our state is in a deficit right now and we just can’t afford to be giving out social security to all these new couples.” Really now?!!? Uh….taxation without representation anyone? How on earth can anyone think that it’s ok to say to someone, “We are going to take your money, use it for straight people who are married, deny you those rights, and then tell you it’s too bad.” It boggles my mind the things of which people are able to convince themselves. Also if your arguement is we literally can't afford to give gays equal marriage rights just think of all the money you'd save if you took away the rights from the hetero couples and gave them to the gays...waaaaaaay less gay marriages is all I'm sayin! Shouldn't be a problem right? I mean...it's just fiscally responsible....has nothing to do with anything else.

Don’t ask don’t tell protects gays:
How do you expect a man who can’t even be free to be himself to serve his country? He’s out there DIEING for you! So you can drive your SUV to soccer practice and pick up your kids. Are our men and women in the armed forces so out of control that if they find out their friend is gay they are going to go crazy and beat the crap out of them? Really? How is it that you can convince a man to go out In the world and risk his life for a few dollars, but you don’t think you can discipline him to not be a jerkass towards his homosexual squadmates? We allow women to serve right? So why not homosexuals again? You have made an environment in which homosexuals are rooted out and discharged and you are so afraid of what might happen if you fix it that you let the problem continue. Last I heard there wasn't exactly the worlds biggest line to get into the military, I'd assume you'd want ever able bodied mind that can contribute to join. Or maybe you're afraid Osama Bin Laden will make fun of you? I think he's against gay marriage as well.

The truth is that you being a bigot is creating problems. Normally I don’t give a flying fuck about bigots. If you hate black people, white people, Asians, women or whatever…I don’t care. The reason? Because everyone knows it’s wrong already. Everyone knows it would be wrong to tell a black person they couldn’t get married. Everyone knows it’s wrong to tell a Jewish man he couldn’t serve in the military. Sure there are people who believe all these things, but they are bigots and they are fine with it and they are crazy and nobody pays them much attention. But when it comes to homosexuals bigots get a free pass. A man can stand there and say something about homosexuals and there are too many damn people who don’t give a crap. But you should. Even if you aren’t homosexual, you should care and here is why.

You denying the rights of an entire segment of the population is causing problems and it’s going to effect you. Since going out and meeting people I have to say on a whole that gay men and women have much lower self esteem than straight men and women. It’s amazing seeing gay men going through the same transformation that women went through. NOT because gay men are girls, but because it is the natural reaction to being told
you’re not good enough. In the 50s when you were a young lass growing up and someone was telling you not to stress out your pretty little brain with numbers and thinking, you grew up thinking you weren’t as good as men. The effects of that are still seen today. Women still see a need to convince themselves that they are worth a life by being pretty, and the same thing is happening in the gay community. And you can say until your tongue bleeds that you have no problem with gay people, but if at the same time you are for DADT, against gay marriage, and really anything pro-homsexual, then YOU DO have a problem with gay people. And they sense it and they start to believe it…even if they don’t know they believe it. And this causes problems for them throughout every aspect of their life. Having low self esteem effects their relationships with mates, friends, and their duties in the work place. There is an entire segment of people in this country that are underachieving and you are denying yourself the opportunity to experience what they could come up with. Homosexuals are not weaker, dumber, slower, or in any way less compared to heterosexuals. They could be the next great writer, scientist, inventor, teacher…but you’ll never know if you keep them oppressed. I’m not saying gay men don’t need a back bone growing up. I’m not asking you to coddle them, tell them they are special and whatever bull extreme flower loving liberals come up with. I’m not for “competitions” where everyone wins. I don’t think we need to take 5 minutes out of the school day to hug your neighbor…I just want to be equal so that I can finally tell you how much better I am than you.

Not only that…but they/we will fight back. It’s only a matter of time before one homosexual goes off the deep end and does something crazy. And gay men are still men…even the flaming ones are still men. I promise you that getting punched by a man wearing a dress and glittered lipstick still hurts just as much as if he were wearing pants and a baseball jersey.

Halloweenie

2010-12-16T14:06:00.001-08:00

The pumpkins are out in full force and I’m looking forward to my first ever gay Halloween. Halloween has always been a mixture of awesome and terrible for me. As a kid Halloween was never as the movies made it out to be. Growing up in the sticks in Northern Minnesota makes trick or treating a lot different. My costume usually consisted of whatever old costumes we had from when my brother and sister were kids. I remember one year I wore a Batman mask and a Superman cape…I called myself Super Batman…I was that clever. Anyway trick or treating in the country kind of sucks. My dad or my step mom would take me trick or treating. If it was my dad I’d sit in the back holding my candy bag as he smoked cigarette after cigarette in the front seat. Houses were sparse so it’d be about 20 minutes in-between me actually getting to trick or treat. When we’d actually get to his friend’s houses he’d get more treats than me. Usually we’d go inside and he’d have a drink with his buddy and I’d sit there hoping that he had a dog to play with. Sometimes my dad’s friends didn’t even have candy so I’d get whatever random things they had in the house. One year I got a bar of soap…every kid’s dream. If it was my step mom driving she’d want to take me even farther into the woods to where she grew up because that’s where “the best” trick or treating was. We’d drive for 45 minutes and go to all the places she used to go…or about 4 houses because by the time we finished those 4 we’d have been in the car for over 3 hours. I remember the first time I went trick or treating in “town” I almost had a heart attack from the amount of candy that I got. I was soooo pissed for all those years I had wasted in the woods trick or treating.

Besides the candy Halloween has always meant one other thing…dances. I remember when I was in either 5th or 6th grade I went to my very first dance. The dance just happened to be at the Linden Grove Town Hall which was only 5 miles from my house so my parents were pretty much forced to bring me. I had never been to a dance before and I was excited. You see there was a girl and I was madly in love with her. Obviously I was a bit confused but still she meant the world to me. I had slyly figured out that she would be at this dance and that was when I decided that I MUST go as well. The problem was that I needed a costume. Being the smooth operator that I am, I came up with the absolute best costume to impress a girl…a hobo.

Yes, as we all know homeless people are the sexiest people on earth and every girl’s dream is to dance with one. For some reason at the time I was fascinated with Hobos. I had just learned what the word Hobo meant and I knew right away I wanted to be that for Halloween. My head swam with ways for me to be an authentic Hobo. “No more cheesy store bought costumes for me!”. I thought to myself. No sir…I was going to be the talk of the town with my authentic Hobo getup. I went through all our old costumes and clothes and I made the best Hobo outfit ever created by mankind. I then stored my garb were the dogs slept so that they would get that optimum Hobo smell (I wish I was making this up). When the night of the dance arrived I dressed myself up in the stinky clothes. I took one of my dad’s handkerchiefs and made myself a bindle and put it on the end of a stick. I rubbed REAL dirt on my face. I actually cut myself a little on the sharp pebbles I was rubbing on my cheeks. I looked and smelled like the world’s youngest Hobo and I was certain that this girl was going to fall in love with me for looking so real.

My dad drove me to the town hall and on the short drive I peppered him for compliments. “I look so real right Dad?!?”, I’d say to him. I remember him saying, “You smell like the dog.” To which I BEAMED with pleasure.

When we got to the town hall I got out and stared up at the doors. For some reason I had the weirdest view of myself as I stood there. In my head I was a dashing and handsome Hobo, standing with muscled arms as an American flagged waved behind me. I was going to the envy of every man and the desire of every girl. Upon entering building the really old 9th grader taking tickets gave me a strange look. I of course recognized it as envy. Soon my friends would show up and we would high five each other and laugh and eat candy. A while later the girls from our grade would show up and both groups would retreat to opposite walls of the dance floor. Finally as I was eating my 11th mini snicker bar I looked to the doorway and this little angel fluttered through. Literally my girl had come dressed as an angel and I remember thinking I couldn’t think of a more fitting costume for her…then doubt crept into my mind. Suddenly my brilliance was flashing before my eyes. As I looked at the angel joining her friends on the opposite wall I saw in my mind’s eye me learning what the word hobo meant…me digging through old ass costumes and deciding they smelled to fresh and putting my clothes were the dog slept…me rubbing dirt on my face, on the very cheek on which I wanted a kiss…then the guy at the door looking at me not with envy…but disgust. I panicked! I dropped my bindle and I made a straight line to the door, and I ran all the way home.
The pumpkins are out in full force and I’m looking forward to my first ever gay Halloween. Halloween has always been a mixture of awesome and terrible for me. As a kid Halloween was never as the movies made it out to be. Growing up in the sticks in Northern Minnesota makes trick or treating a lot different. My costume usually consisted of whatever old costumes we had from when my brother and sister were kids. I remember one year I wore a Batman mask and a Superman cape…I called myself Super Batman…I was that clever. Anyway trick or treating in the country kind of sucks. My dad or my step mom would take me trick or treating. If it was my dad I’d sit in the back holding my candy bag as he smoked cigarette after cigarette in the front seat. Houses were sparse so it’d be about 20 minutes in-between me actually getting to trick or treat. When we’d actually get to his friend’s houses he’d get more treats than me. Usually we’d go inside and he’d have a drink with his buddy and I’d sit there hoping that he had a dog to play with. Sometimes my dad’s friends didn’t even have candy so I’d get whatever random things they had in the house. One year I got a bar of soap…every kid’s dream. If it was my step mom driving she’d want to take me even farther into the woods to where she grew up because that’s where “the best” trick or treating was. We’d drive for 45 minutes and go to all the places she used to go…or about 4 houses because by the time we finished those 4 we’d have been in the car for over 3 hours. I remember the first time I went trick or treating in “town” I almost had a heart attack from the amount of candy that I got. I was soooo pissed for all those years I had wasted in the woods trick or treating.

Besides the candy Halloween has always meant one other thing…dances. I remember when I was in either 5th or 6th grade I went to my very first dance. The dance just happened to be at the Linden Grove Town Hall which was only 5 miles from my house so my parents were pretty much forced to bring me. I had never been to a dance before and I was excited. You see there was a girl and I was madly in love with her. Obviously I was a bit confused but still she meant the world to me. I had slyly figured out that she would be at this dance and that was when I decided that I MUST go as well. The problem was that I needed a costume. Being the smooth operator that I am, I came up with the absolute best costume to impress a girl…a hobo.

Yes, as we all know homeless people are the sexiest people on earth and every girl’s dream is to dance with one. For some reason at the time I was fascinated with Hobos. I had just learned what the word Hobo meant and I knew right away I wanted to be that for Halloween. My head swam with ways for me to be an authentic Hobo. “No more cheesy store bought costumes for me!”. I thought to myself. No sir…I was going to be the talk of the town with my authentic Hobo getup. I went through all our old costumes and clothes and I made the best Hobo outfit ever created by mankind. I then stored my garb were the dogs slept so that they would get that optimum Hobo smell (I wish I was making this up). When the night of the dance arrived I dressed myself up in the stinky clothes. I took one of my dad’s handkerchiefs and made myself a bindle and put it on the end of a stick. I rubbed REAL dirt on my face. I actually cut myself a little on the sharp pebbles I was rubbing on my cheeks. I looked and smelled like the world’s youngest Hobo and I was certain that this girl was going to fall in love with me for looking so real.

My dad drove me to the town hall and on the short drive I peppered him for compliments. “I look so real right Dad?!?”, I’d say to him. I remember him saying, “You smell like the dog.” To which I BEAMED with pleasure.

When we got to the town hall I got out and stared up at the doors. For some reason I had the weirdest view of myself as I stood there. In my head I was a dashing and handsome Hobo, standing with muscled arms as an American flagged waved behind me. I was going to the envy of every man and the desire of every girl. Upon entering building the really old 9th grader taking tickets gave me a strange look. I of course recognized it as envy. Soon my friends would show up and we would high five each other and laugh and eat candy. A while later the girls from our grade would show up and both groups would retreat to opposite walls of the dance floor. Finally as I was eating my 11th mini snicker bar I looked to the doorway and this little angel fluttered through. Literally my girl had come dressed as an angel and I remember thinking I couldn’t think of a more fitting costume for her…then doubt crept into my mind. Suddenly my brilliance was flashing before my eyes. As I looked at the angel joining her friends on the opposite wall I saw in my mind’s eye me learning what the word hobo meant…me digging through old ass costumes and deciding they smelled to fresh and putting my clothes were the dog slept…me rubbing dirt on my face, on the very cheek on which I wanted a kiss…then the guy at the door looking at me not with envy…but disgust. I panicked! I dropped my bindle and I made a straight line to the door, and I ran all the way home.

hypocrites...

2010-12-16T14:05:00.001-08:00

With the surge of suicides it has been a tragic time for young gay men. I appreciate the new found resurgence in bringing gay priorities back into light but I still don’t think we are getting the right message out there. Too often we talk about the outcomes of problems and don’t focus on the causes. It’s easy to see that bullying is a problem, but it really doesn’t solve anything to just say bullying is bad. Light needs to be shed on why this bullying is occurring in the first place. It needs to be made a priority to explain why it is important for society that gays and lesbians be treated as equals, and getting picked on in school is just the tip of the iceberg. Maybe the next gay teen doesn’t take just their own life, but may be they take others with them. What will happen then? It’s sad but it’s easy to see why these youths feel that death is superior to life. Hatred of gays is the last acceptable form of racism and every tragedy that occurs should be made into an opportunity to further the cause of equality.

Let’s face it…kids are dumb. They only know and think what they are told. If you’re told your entire life that being homosexual is not equal to being heterosexual, it has an effect. I was discussing this problem with my brother who is an educated MIT graduate, but he still doesn’t grasp what I was trying to say. It’s a hidden racism that occurs. Nobody but assholes come out and just directly say, “You’re gay, there for you don’t matter.” But by not allowing homosexuals to marry or allowing homosexuals to openly serve in the military you are saying just that! It’s crazy to me that someone thinks there is a difference between saying gay men can’t serve in the military, and saying you can be gay you just can’t say you’re gay. It’s the same damn thing. Don’t ask Don’t tell is a way for the masses to feel better about themselves, but not really doing anything about it. So when you’re young and impressionable it’s both much easier to feel bad about being homosexual AND to pick on homosexuals. How can we tell children to treat each other as equals when grown ups are unwilling to do the same?

more complaining about gay men

2010-12-16T14:04:00.001-08:00

So I’m newly out and about...I've been dating, hanging, chatting, seeing as many gay men as I possibly can. It's much different than I thought and in some ways a lot better. It's also frustrating at times, as even being friends with another gay guy can be unnecessary drama. So here are 11 general life tips that I’m starting to think that more gay men then I’d like to admit seem to need.

Being a bitch is easy to do and doesn’t equal a personality. I’m sorry you’re a miserable person, but maybe it’s because you think overpaying for shoes makes you important?

If you weren’t so insecure you’d probably have an easier time getting along with people.

You’re not going to be pretty outside forever but you can be pretty inside forever...work on that as much as you would the gym.

Get a sense of humor. I know laughing causes you to smile and that gives you those awful wrinkles…try it though, you might like it.

Not everything is about you. Surprisingly things happen that don’t pertain to you at all!

Try seeing things from the other person’s perspective. It doesn’t make you weak…it makes you mature.

If you’re not going to commit to someone don’t get mad that they look for someone that will.

Try doing something nice for someone, it might give you some self worth.

Self medication is not going to solve any problems.

Being the bigger person is not a fat joke…it’s a real way humans get along.

Just because you’ve become jaded about relationships doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.

Quit hating on people different than you. Differences in people is like differences in clothes, and we both know you wouldn't dare be seen at the club wearing the same thing as last time.

Lastly...eat a burger made of meat...you'll like it.