Hudson Taylor Your Mind

Men Who Lost Their Looks; It’s The Guys Turn To Be Judged.

2020-10-28T06:00:00.000-04:00

Steven Tyler, Dude looks like a lady, and that lady ani't right.

The media is obsessed with women losing their youth and beauty and I'm bored with it. How many times have you read, “She’s gained weight,” or “She’s lost her looks.” Rarely do people talk about how many men have gotten old, fat and ugly. I know some men look better with age, blah, blah; well not all of them do.

Here are the studs that turned into duds; a hudsontayloryourmind exclusive.

Val Kilmer: Famous for “Top Gun” and “The Doors”; now looks like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

Arnold Swartzeneger: “My looks will be baack!” I don’t think so.

Warren Beatty: Was once hot and bedded many; now just wets the bed.

David Hasselholf is scary young or old; yikes, Puppies?

David Hasselholf: There was a time he could jog without his man-boobs hitting his knees.

Mickey Rourke: Once starred in 9 ½ weeks; now he looks like he’s been hit with 9 ½ 2x4’s.

John Travolta: Grease was once the word; now it’s served with gravy and biscuits.

Dateless Blunders and Other Wonders in Online Dating.

2020-09-22T14:15:00.000-04:00

Going through online profiles on websites like OkCupid or Match I’ve discovered that what most people write isn’t really what they mean. If one is to really believe most of what is written online you’d think every single person in the world is: laidback; very-good-looking; loves to travel and has the most ‘amazing’ friends in the universe.

So to help people out I’m going to explain what-the-hell people really mean when they say:

Laid Back: I’ll contact u first, but will be too lazy to follow-up later.

Love To Travel: Will never be free enough to make a connection, “you free in two months?” He will ask.

Not Looking For A Hook-up: ONLY looking to hook-up.

Not Judgmental: Totally judgmental (he’s judging you for even having an online profile)

My Friends Wrote This For Me: I’m a big pussy and won’t make a date with you unless my friends do it for me.

I’m A Nice Guy: I’m really a bastard.

Very Good-looking: Sometimes they are attractive, but mostly they’re not; either way, do you really want someone who is in love with themselves only?

Money Sucks, RuPaul Tucks: Why The Economy Still Blows Chunks

2020-06-28T22:52:00.000-04:00

Why does Lisa Rinna look like the drag queen here?

Having dinner recently with old friends at a Italian restaurant in Chelsea; I couldn’t help but zone out as my friend-just fresh from the airport, lugged his clunky Louis Vuitton luggage to our table and preceded to open his bags and show us his Gucci wallet; Persol sunglasses; LV book bag; LV laptop case; LV pen holder; Prada iPad cover; Prada receipt holder (!) I’ve always loved some of my friends taste, but have to admit I was half expecting him to pull out a Tom Ford designer pouch, that stored used gum at some point. He made me think; has the economy gotten any better?

As we sat at our table looking for the waiter; starving with a thirst for vodka (our waiter was too busy going bonkers over bug-eyed Lance Bass, who was seated nearby) I looked around and noticed for a Wednesday night, this place and a lot of restaurants in Chelsea was jumping. One could argue that the economy is doing great, but with pay cuts occurring more frequently than at any time since the Great Depression; unemployment is still on the increase.

If you pick up a newspaper or watch the nightly news, there’s nothing but breezy stories about the economy, and how the recession is over. Welcome my friends to propaganda bullshit 2012.

Now I see how Romney makes money; hand jobs.

Airlines cried that they don’t make money--with most cutting off little things like free nuts; when in fact after three years of losses, the U.S. airline industry finally made out like a pimp with the best Ho. Airlines grabbed $3.4 billion from the extra bag charges alone -- a 24% increase since 2010, according to a new Department of Transportation.

Delta made the most green from bag fees totaling $952 million, followed by United and Continental at nearly $655 million. American collected $580 million and US Airways $513 million; and they can’t give us some free nuts?

According to The Wall Street Journal in an article published June 15, 2012. "The sudden unexpected downturn in economic data, combined with real concerns about inflation, starts to remind investors of some nasty recessions in the past, and investors have the right to be concerned." Oh crap.

Companies like Facebook are allowed to over inflate stock; so fools like us buy it and loose our hard earned money. We think we're getting a piece of the pie, when the reality is; there's not even crumbs. Taxi cab prices in New York increased by 17% this month; which makes me ask; anybody know where I can buy a donkey?

I guess we can’t kill ourselves with worry; we have to take one pill at a time and hope for the best. I just wish people didn’t bullshit us about the economy. The truth is; the powers that be are finding ways to milk citizens out of their hard earned money. There has been talk of pay toilets on some Airlines; soon some wise guy will find a way to charge us for the air we breathe.

Things are still OK for some people (especially my designer gay pal and Mitt Romney) but the rest of us who are considered middle class, or be gads: lower class are in the dog house, and its pouring rain with leaks in the roof.

Murder, She Wrote parody.

2020-05-23T16:42:00.000-04:00

Jessica Fletcher is a serial killer! 🤤

Editorial Reviews

"Taylor did a great job with the black humor but still kept Jessica Fletcher grounded in an unreal situation. A fun read."--Best Books To Read

"The sly humor could make a mean nun crack a smile. Try not to take sip of anything when reading Murder, She Did It. When Jessica busted out the nunchucks I made a mess. Four Stars."--Cute Guys Reading Books
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"Fans of the movie Clue will love this."--Mystery Girl Reviews

On SALE now from Amazon.com

What I Learned From Watching Judge Judy

2020-03-23T04:00:00.000-04:00

“Ma'am, you don't get reimbursed for stupidity! Your case is dismissed!"

Judge Judy is the highest paid woman on TV, and it’s easy to see why, with her brass balls and strongly sprayed hair-do, Judy is in charge when you enter her courtroom and you better not piss her off. Some people find her offensive and mean, I don’t think she is; yes Judy is tough, but the moron’s who frequent her courtroom need a good shaking up; if not a 2x4 across the noggin.

“Are you on any medication madam?”

Unlike most of her guest, Judy uses common sense, which seems to be missing these days with the Kardashian’s being on TV and Rick Santorum getting actual human beings to vote for him.

“Beauty fades. Dumb is forever.”

You could watch Judge Judy for two weeks and be amazed at the frivolous lawsuits being brought into our already, busy courthouses. On the other end you’ll have female barracuda’s with too much make-up and dudes with messed-up teeth taking advantage of people’s kindness.

“Personally, I don't find you as attractive as she did; so I suggest you shut up!”

People can waste money on college and cartoonish seminars from best selling authors; most who didn’t really write the books anyway. I don’t need cough up any cash for this crap when Judge Judy has taught me everything I need to know about life.

1. Don’t loan anyone money, if you expect to get it back.
2. Stupid people get pregnant a lot, with different fathers.
3. Never cosign for anything unless you’re married.
4. Learn to let some things go after a break-up; you want old towels back, seriously?
5. If you go to court, don’t dress like a weekend hooker.
6. Never let a boyfriend move in if he has an ugly haircut.

Judge Judy and Florence Henderson make out; Judy does it all.

“I have 3 sons, so I know you are no gift! You're not even good looking!"

Free Life Advice. Read It Fast, I'm Already Bored.

2020-02-24T05:30:00.000-05:00

The doctor is in, and let’s get this over with quick because I have a hangover. Some people need a therapist for logical mental reasons, others need a good kick in the knickers with some tough love. So here it is; your problems solved in minutes, not hours and you didn’t cough up the $200 bucks an hour for a head doctor (who’s probably nuttier than you) or even spend your morning on the toilet from all the medication they’d prescribe.
You’re welcome, now shut up and learn.

-You Don’t Care What People Think: Stop lying, it gives you wrinkles.

-You Hate Your Parents: Grow up and forgive them, or don’t talk to them anymore.

-Cupcakes: These are really round slices of cake; sorry chubs.

-Boot Camp: You’re just paying an angry guy to yell at you; get married and it will be for free.

-Proceco: Is really sparkling white wine, just add $10-50 dollars.

-You Can’t Get A Man: So stop whining about it; shave your legs; get a new hair color and work it.

-Why Is Everyone Crazy: Because everyone is a little wacko; if you don’t think you are, oh boy you’re in trouble.

-People Are Out To Get You: Sometimes, but that’s life. Watch a few seasons of “Scandal” and learn.

-“Green Lantern,” Movie: Really did suck; No REALLY.

-You’re Obese And Want ONLY A Muscle Guy: Drop the lard or win the Lottery.

-Space Wipes: Are really sponges, and not worth 19.99 + shipping.

-You’re A Drunk And Druggie: Google a picture of Lindsay Lohan 2011; and remember she was 24-years-old! Get yourself together.

-You’re Depressed: Because of you’re missing a leg; arm; eye? Right; feel better, bitch.

-You Have Bad Self Image: No matter how much plastic surgery you get, you’ll feel the same; just prettier. Happiness does come from within, yeah, within Bergdorf Goodman.

Your life is better than you think. Enjoy it!

Screw Valentine’s Day. February 13th is Mistress Day!

2020-02-13T07:30:00.000-05:00

Mistress Day could have helped Glen Close in Fatal Attraction.

Mistress Day is a hidden secret and with Valentine’s Day getting all the press I thought it was about time to expose this great holiday; which in my opinion is ignored more than a girl at Ricky Martin’s birthday party.

Most restaurants and florist have reported that February 13th is fast becoming just as popular as February 14th, due to the fact that most married men take out their mistresses or favorite rent boys for dinner that night; guess what’s for dessert? A cheap hotel.

So if your man happens to be out late on February 13th, saying something about a work dinner. Watch out! When he gets home; smell him like a blind hound dog. If your man or lady smells like chocolate fondue; you better believe they were celebrating Mistress Day.

Tiger Woods main Ho Rachel Uchitel loves Feb 13th.

I’ve never been the mistress type and believe me there are a lot of gay and “straight” married men out there looking for a good time. I just could never be second banana (literally!) to a wife or boyfriend; I’m an only child and I don’t like to share. I have friends that do it and no matter what they say, they’re miserable, but always think in the back of their mind that; “they’ll get him one day.”

Here’s a fact; most married men don’t leave a marriage unless their partner breaks it up, and why should they? They have the best of both worlds; a maid at home and a slut at a hotel.

A friend of mine, who works at a major Chelsea restaurant, told me that February 13th is almost as booked as February 14, “Marc” reports that last year the restaurant was full of older men with wedding rings, pretty girls and cute young boys.

I’ll make it no secret that I hate Valentine’s Day; when I’m in a relationship it can be very frustrating trying to please your partner by doing a bunch of things that you saw in the movies. Retail is no better by throwing it in your face when you walk into CVS, “She’ll be mad and make you a cad-remember V-Day is Feb 14th!” Oh screw you.

When you’re single you’re made to feel like a loser for not having someone. couples, most of them in toxic relationships built on desperation and a second paycheck will fill your head with stories of their happy romance; my momma always said,”If you have to sell it, it must be broke.” If you're single and go on dating apps you'll get nothing but married men hitting on you--yeah, I'd rather stay single then settle for one of these horny losers.

Is there any better example than Seal and Heidi Klum; who got remarried every year on their anniversary for seven years and got divorced anyway; Auf Wiedersehen to you, bitch.

I support the Ho’s in having their day declared a national holiday. No matter which day you support I hope you’re going to have a wonderful time; I personally don’t care for either; it’s February 15th, that mixes my margarita; it’s when all the Valentine’s candy goes on sale for 50% off; now that’s my kind of holiday.

February 13th is Mistress Day!

2020-02-13T04:30:00.000-05:00

Most restaurants and florists have reported that February 13th, is fast becoming just as popular as February 14th, due to the fact that most married men take out their mistresses or favorite rent boys for dinner that night; guess what’s for dessert; A cheap hotel.

So if you're man/woman or Bruce Jenner, happens to tell you that they have plans for February 13th; saying something about a work dinner, you might have to wonder; was he/she/Bruce Jenner, really at a work dinner, or we're they celebrating betrayal behind your back on a heart shaped bed? if my significant other is out on February 13; I would be cautious but say nothing until they got home, then smell them like a blind hound dog. If your man/woman/Bruce Jenner, smells like chocolate fondue and KY; you better believe they was celebrating Mistress Day.

I’ve never been the mistress type and believe me, there are a lot of gay and “straight” married men out there looking for a good time. I just could never be second banana (literally!) to a wife or boyfriend; I’m an only child and I don’t like to share. I have friends that do it and no matter what they say, they’re miserable.

Here’s a fact; most married men don’t leave a marriage unless their partner breaks it up, and why should they? They have the best of both worlds; a maid at home and a slut at a hotel.

A friend of mine who works at a major Chelsea restaurant, told me that February 13, is almost as booked as February 14, “Marc” reports that last year the restaurant was full of older men with wedding rings, pretty girls and cute young boys.

People always wonder why most married men cheat with ugly women/skanky guys; well here’s the truth; most beautiful people are boring in bed. But if a Ho has got some chub on them and a back tattoo? They'll be good to go anytime of the day, you can take her/ him/Bruce Jenner, to a hotel-to the alley and it’s all good for them. Beautiful people want dinner, compliments and the Hope diamond, and will probably lay there afterwards with a deer in the headlights look on their face as you go about your “business.”

I’ll make it no secret that I hate Valentine’s Day; when I’m in a relationship it can be very frustrating trying to please your partner by doing a bunch of things that you saw in the movies. Retail is no better by throwing it in your face when you walk into CVS, “She’ll be mad and make you a cad-remember V-Day is Feb 14th!” Oh screw you.

When you’re single you’re made to feel like a loser for not having someone. People, most of them in stupid relationships built on desperation and a second paycheck, will fill your head with stories of their happy romance; my momma always said,”If you have to sell it, it must be broke.” Is there any better example than Seal and Heidi Klum; who got remarried every year on their anniversary for seven years; They’re now divorced after Klum was caught banging the body guard; Auf Wiedersehen to you, bitch!

I support the Ho’s in having their day declared a national holiday. No matter which day you support I hope you’re going to have a wonderful time; I personally don’t care for either; it’s February 15, that I mixes my margarita; it’s when all the Valentine’s candy goes on sale for 50% off; now that’s my kind of holiday.

How Did I Get This Age?

2020-01-13T07:00:00.000-05:00

Over drinks recently in Chelsea with a friend he mentioned his upcoming birthday like someone mentions a prostate exam. My friend couldn’t believe where the years had gone, and now he was approaching 45-years-old; single and none the wiser. It made me think as well. Where the hell did the time go for me? Was I any smarter or richer than before? Or did I just learn to accept failure like Lindsey Lohan accepts being arrested?

Looking through old pictures for this article I’m surprised how cute I was at 25. I’m not bragging, it’s just shocking when I remember the time in my life as feeling more insecure than hot stuff. Now gray hair grows on my head like an army of ants after a picnic basket; I still smile, at least I have hair. For now.

An older friend of mine recently said about single gay men over 40, “If you’re over 40 and single; you better have the money or you might as well be dead.” It’s a nasty thing to say, but I get his point to a degree.

I wonder where the years went; it feels like just yesterday I was 24 and dating someone I thought I would spend my life with. Just yesterday I was 34 and moving in with someone I thought was the one. Just yesterday I was a singer; published author; best friend; son; manager; lover; cat owner; straight; hairdresser; insecure; secure, and now I'm still some of those things, but a lot of them seem like someone else's life.

   Though it still seems scary sometimes I’m happier and more self-assured then I was when I was younger. Things are still frustrating when something bad happens, but with age, I don’t get as upset as I used to.

   Let's cut the pound cake. I hate getting older, but on a day when my clothes fit just right; my friends seem sane and I’m dating someone who makes me smile every time I get a text I feel like the world is mine.

   When you reach a certain age you start to ask yourself if you’re happy; is the person your with the ‘right one.’ If you’re single it starts to feel like you’ll be alone forever. I’d rather be alone and single then living with someone whom I can’t stand to be with.

   Age is a state of mind. My mind says I’m 30 and I’m not giving up no matter if I’m 40, 50, 60 or 100-years-old. Getting old is a bitch. Giving up on life because you’re older? Not an option with my frame of mind. One of the reasons "The Golden Girls" still manages to be popular is simple; it shows you that you can be happy over 50, have sex, good friends and sass whoever you please.

   So if you’re feeling down about getting older; just think you had some good times with the bad and something new and exciting is just around the corner; you’ll never find out what it is if you’re staying inside hiding and giving up. Do something you wouldn't normally do; take a class; stay out and drink until 3:am. Live, laugh, make changes and have fun; that's what keeps you young forever.

Murder, She Wrote book parody on SALE

2019-10-20T17:50:00.000-04:00

The rumors are true. Jessica Fletcher’s famous homemade onion soup is from a can and she’s also a serial killer.

Jessica attends a destination wedding to the Greek Islands on Seamen’s Delight, a luxury cruise line. So many to kill, so little time. Just as she chooses her next victim, someone has the nerve to murder them first. Rude.

Now, for the first time, Jessica is in for the jog of her life as she races to find the killer before the food on the boat kills her first.

“Taylor did a great job with the black humor but still kept Jessica Fletcher grounded in an unreal situation. A fun read.”—Best Books To Read

“The sly humor could make a mean nun crack a smile. Try not to take sip of anything when reading Murder, She Did It. When Jessica busted out the nunchucks I made a mess. Four Stars.”—Cute Guys Reading Books

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“Fans of the movie Clue will love this.”—Mystery Girl Reviews

“Clever and humorous take on the still popular TV series that will please fans and non-fans alike.”—1980s Sex Symbols

Murder, She Did It: A Murder, She Wrote parody is available now exclusively from Amazon.com

What I Learned From Having A Dog.

2019-06-02T07:00:00.000-04:00

When navigating through life it’s easy to get caught up in material things. As humans, we are born and bred to succeed at all cost. As you get older and make (hopefully) more money it’s easy to get caught up in only YOUR world. That changes for the better when you adopt a pet. Having a dog has taught me to slow down and experience life.

Sometimes at the end of the day, I get home and my dog wants to go out. Dogs don’t “get” you’re tired when you come home from work. Sometimes I silently pray he does it fast so I can chill out but even on the worst days his energy is contagious. For dogs, going out is more than a potty run; its social time. For my dog he wants to know what humans are outside; what butts are worth sniffing; what wonderful smells linger in the bowls of New York. Having a dog makes you more social-rather you like it or not. For the first time in my life, I actually know and talk to most of my neighbors. My dog will demand attention and if you don’t give it he will bark at you (I’m more known to pant when I don’t’ get attention)

Having a little person in your life makes everything complete. Some people compare having a pet to having children and I agree. When you have an adorable living thing that depends on you, needs you to feed it, needs you to kiss his bruise or has something stuck in his paw, your outlook is so different, as is your life. This little breathing thing needs you to live, and after a while you need them to live.

Sometimes sitting at work I wonder if my dog is ok. If I’m at a bar too long and the evening is dragging on I think of my little fellow waiting for me, and I have to say unless you’re in your early 20s-you’d rather be home with your pup, than a dark bar with high priced drinks and watered down looking people.

In my years on this earth, I’ve been a bunch of different people, from poor kid to semi-successful grown-up. The best role I feel proud of is the joy my heart feels every-time I see my dog asleep on my lap. No amount of money, friends, material things or accomplishments will ever matter as much as the true love I get from my dog. We all seem to be fighting for something better in life and when we get it we’re faced with the big question, “Now what?” When you raise a pet you have a tremendous feeling of accomplishment and all you had to do was look beyond yourself. Me-me-me becomes him-him-him or her-her-her.

Hudson Taylor and Dante

My dog has become so famous, he has his own Facebook page Dante Taylor) I became the parent I always said I would never become, and I could never be happier.

No matter what happens to me in life; rather I’m rich or poor, strong or weak, my dog will remain the same towards me, and I will be his owner in name, but really coiled to him until he or I die.

🌶️SALSA HOT, 🔪MURDER COLD by Hudson Taylor

2018-11-06T06:26:00.000-05:00

🌶️SALSA HOT, 🔪MURDER COLD is available now!

In her lumpiest adventure yet, Ethel must race to find a killer before she gets diced herself.

🍅Sal Bunion's attitude was as spicy as his famous salsa. When he turns up dead it's up to sassy Ethel Cunningham to put down the tortilla chips and catch a sick and saucy killer.
💉Who killed Sal and stole his famous recipe? Maybe his gold obsessed wife Toni, or bitter waitress and girlfriend, Roberta? How about muscular and brooding Pablo? And then there's the mysterious new business partner, Mr. Fox. Did he kill him? Many would think it's one of his estranged children, Sal Jr, Al or Rose.
🍅In a battle of wills, salt and spice, Ethel even has the Clover Court gang of misfit neighbors helping her out in one of her most tricky and tasty mysteries yet. LINK to Amazon ) http://a.co/d/34l1c69

Mystery Writer Hudson Taylor Interview

2018-07-03T08:13:00.000-04:00

We sat down with mystery writer Hudson Taylor at his favorite writing place. Over strong coffee we discussed Murder She Wrote, Christmas, the Lifetime channel and his love of Mindhunter and Johnathan Groff.

CGRB: There aren’t many authors who would say, ‘you really shouldn’t buy my books but if you do, thanks a heap.’ What made you put that in your official bio?

HT: I read a lot of author bios, either when I’m checking out the competition or finding a new mystery series—and I get it’s all about selling—but it’s gets boring to read so-and-so won this award and so-and-so is liked by this author.

I admit I was shocked and laughed when I read it. How did you come up with Ethel Cunningham? She’s not like most amateur sleuths.

In what way? (Laughs)

Well, for one thing, she tells people off!

(More laughs) I’m a big fan of mystery books and TV shows, but there was always a point on Murder She Wrote, where for 12 seasons, people got murdered, and she pointed a finger at the guilty party and not one person tried to slap her silly or curse her out. It made me frustrated and I love the show. I just wanted my sleuth to tell people off and also for them to yell at her sometimes or try to hurt her.

Ethel comes off as tough, but she has a tender side, it’s just hidden with big blonde hair and sequins. Also, her love interest, Detective Vince Carpino, isn’t such a good guy.

Ethel’s wild look hides her vulnerabilities, like a lot of people. Vince has his issues and to me, he’s more like a real New York detective. I’m sorry Lifetime channel fans, but most old boyfriends-turned-detectives are not waiting around your hometown, and still hot fifteen years after you left town so you can come back at Christmas and rekindle a romance. (Laughs) It would be nice but probably not going to happen! Love and romance and relationships can be hard for most people. So in writing them, I wanted real friction.

Ethel talks about her double mastectomy in most of the books. Was it hard working with a topic so serious?

Not at all. I have a lot of wacky things in my books but I do like some reality. I wanted a reason for this woman to move to New York at thirty-nine-years-old. Ethel wasn’t scared of failing or trying new things in life anymore because she beat cancer.

What inspired Death Of A Christmas Tree Man?

I love Christmas. Especially the decorating. I mean, come on, the glitz, the glamour. It’s so Ethel Cunningham. In New York, around the holidays there are Christmas trees everywhere for sale and the people selling them are usually an odd bunch. So I came up with the story about competing tree salespeople.

I think it’s my favorite Ethel Cunningham book. It has everything. Christmas, mystery, murder, cute dogs, and the wacky residents of Clover Court.

And don’t forget the snow storm!

Yes! Loved it! Your newest book Gentlemen Prefer Murder has Marilyn Monroe solving murders in the late 1970s. What inspired this?

I wanted to do a different kind of mystery series. So I set it in 1977 and added a mature Marilyn Monroe. It was harder than I thought it would be, given I was writing about a real-life person but I made her a bit of a different person and it’s really a satire of how I think she would be at 50.

My office has been loving, or should I say, digging it.

Thanks a heap!

One last question, given that you write about murder and mayhem. What do you watch on TV to unwind?

I’m a homebody so I watch a lot of TV. I’m really loving The Deuce and Mindhunter on Netflix. I have a huge crush on Johnathan Groff after watching it. He did nothing for me—like he cares—when he starred in Looking but he is amazing in this new show. I love all the actors and it’s great that the writers don’t have to stoop to blood and gore to creep you out. And it’s creepy!

Mindhunter isn’t actually unwinding.

I know. I’ll unwind in my grave.

Hudson Taylor’s latest book, Gentlemen Prefer Murder is available now, as well as a special edition version of Death Of A Christmas Tree Man. Find him on Facebook @AuthorHudsonTaylor and Twitter author_hudson

Interview by Cute Guys Reading Books. Used with permission.

Why It’s Good To Be Single

2018-04-18T18:38:00.000-04:00

There’s a pressure for everything to be matched. Curtains, socks, and people. A lot of human’s jump in relationships for different reasons. Many people in an expensive city like New York just need another body to cover the rent. Some people just can’t be alone and a few are in love.

When you’re happily single, it makes people nervous. “He’s too picky.” Or “There must be something a matter with him.” Questions will come at you faster than Donald Trump lies, “Aren’t you lonely?” Sometimes. “Don’t you want somebody to grow old with?” Sure.

When I get up on the weekend I can do anything I want. No responsibilities, no going to my boyfriend’s family bullshit. I can lay in bed all day. I can get drunk. I can go out with friends or catch a movie. Nobody owns me and it feels good. If the right guy comes along, sure I’d take him but I’m not dating somebody, just to have somebody. Life is awesome.

Why You Should NEVER Use Ancestry.com

2018-01-17T09:34:00.000-05:00

We’ve all seen the ads for Ancestry.com. Just take a swab of your saliva and mail it in. If your dancing skills were nonexistent before you could be dancing the Bossa Nova after finding out you’re 23% Portuguese.

What these clever ads don’t tell you is that they keep your DNA after performing your tests, you still own it but so do they. Say what? So, after you die they have it and can sell it or ‘accidently’ lose it. By agreeing to terms of service, you are basically giving them free range to do whatever they want with your information. And don’t be shocked to find out that health insurance places are paying them to find out if you have any lingering family diseases before insuring you.

They tell you all of this is fine print but of course it’s buried in pages of terms of service. According to its privacy policies, Ancestry.com takes ownership of your DNA forever.

Not even your relatives or spouse will have any rights to it. So, hopefully you don’t become famous because when you die they’ll be selling your DNA like hotcakes.

Or think about this, how about if Ancestry.com gets hacked? Some of the biggest companies have gotten broken into, and your DNA gets stolen. How about if it’s left at a crime scene? You could try screaming as they took you off to jail, and who knows, after three or four years you might be found innocent, but would you really want the trouble?

It’s a human feeling to wonder where you came from but if companies like Ancestry.com are keeping your DNA and bragging that they have the largest at 3 million and counting, I have to wonder why.

Why would they store so much DNA? Sounds creepy and scary to me.

In the future, will there be an eBay where they sell ‘gently used’ DNA.? Sounds like Ancestry.com will make a killing. And all it took was one swab.

Are You Seeing Spots Before Your Eyes? Read This And Weep.

2017-07-15T07:00:00.000-04:00

I’ve bragged over the years about having 20/20 vision; it was the only thing I could say about myself that was 100% perfect. I’ve noticed lately that with certain light I would see spots before my eyes. Worried I was dying tragically young (shut up!) I went to the eye doctor and got the most upsetting news. I wasn’t hitting the dirt anytime soon I was getting older; I’d rather be dying.

The spots are called floaters (how science fiction) Floaters are black dots, specks or circles that are noticeable when one is looking at a light colored background, like a white wall or sunlight. Floaters tend to move up in down and gradually disappear. The spots can be very annoying when you know you haven’t taken Acid for twenty years.

The inside of the eye is filled with an invisible, gel-like substance called the vitreous. The vitreous helps maintain the shape of the eye and allows light to pass through to the retina. The retina is a thin, light-sensitive tissue that covers the inside back portion of the eye and works like the film in a camera. Floaters are small clumps of gel that form in the vitreous. Although they appear to be in front of the eye, they are actually floating in the vitreous and are seen as shadows by the retina.

The appearance of floaters may cause alarm, especially if they develop suddenly. However, they are usually of little importance. As people get older, the vitreous shrinks and often separates from the retina. By the age of 50 years the vitreous has separated from the retina in about 50% of all people. As the vitreous detaches, it causes floaters. At first the floaters may be quite annoying, but the brain gradually learns to ignore them, and after several months they are hardly noticed.

So with the onslaught of wrinkles, gray hair and creaks in the bones; one is also faced with spots before their eyes; which is just another reminder that Mother Nature is a freaking bitch.

New Horror Movie ...

2017-05-25T07:43:00.001-04:00

WOW! Finally, a good horror movie is coming out. Anybody know the release of this creepy looking film? Oh, wait ... 👹

#HorrorMovie #Trump #ThePope #IdeaForRyanMurphy #AmericanHorrorStory #AuthorHudsonTaylor

Sarah Palin Shocker: Husband Comes Out As Gay.

2017-04-01T07:00:00.000-04:00

Just when the world thought they saw the last of Sarah Palin; she’s back like plaque.

News sources reported today that Todd Palin has come out as gay and Sarah Palin has blamed it on Obama, the media and homosexuals running wild in Hollywood, “Gays getting married are giving straight men ideas; hold on to your husband’s ladies; the gays are coming for them.” Palin tweeted today.

Sources say Sarah has said she will not divorce her husband and that they can work on the marriage with the help of Jesus and some sexy lingerie. Many whisper that the legendary “First Lady Of Stupidity” has no clue on how to save her marriage, but her ego will not let her get a divorce.

A close friend said Sarah has been so angry she jumped in the nearest helicopter and started shooting any moose in sight; the feminine males got it the hardest. Daughter Bristol worries her momma will head to a gay bar with her gun. Many whisper that say Sarah looks like a drag queen and will be let in without a cover charge; the rich really do get richer.

Sarah is said to be announcing a press conference this week, with her newly dyed blonde hubby by her side. Local sources report Sarah has banned her husband from watching Modern Family and eating Fruit Loops every morning; fearing that’s what made him gay.

Happy April Fools Day!

Is Sex Better When You’re Older?

2017-03-28T10:30:00.000-04:00

Miley Cyrus Said last year that 40-year-old people are jealous of her because they don’t have sex anymore. What manure-for-brains Cyrus doesn’t know is; at 20-years-old you can have all the sex you want but it doesn’t mean its good sex; it’s just the 3 M’s: motion, moaning and moving. By the time you’re 40 you actually have the best sex because you know what flushes your face and curls your toes.

It’s no surprise that doctors are reporting that the biggest increase in sexually transmitted diseases are in retirement and nursing homes; sorry to be the one to inform you of this kids, but your grandma is a slut! As humans are living longer, things have changed and sex is no longer just for the young. A lot of older women have reported that they have a better sex life after menopause; so maybe getting older isn’t such a bad thing.

Depending on your personality (and hormone levels) most people started experiencing with sex when they we’re teenagers. In movies young girls are made to believe that their first kiss has to be special, when in reality your first kiss should be a trial run for the real thing; kind of like taking a new car for a drive around the block before purchasing it.

Of course there are those poor souls who make it to their 40’s, 50’s, 60’s and beyond, and still kiss you like a Hoover vacuum. Still I’m an advocate that sex gets better at age 40 and beyond. Another great thing about getting older is this; if the sex does stink, you’ll probably forget it—fast!

Hair Extensions Are From Dead People.

2017-01-29T10:50:00.000-05:00

Jennifer Aniston recently said hair extensions ruined her real hair, and it’s no surprise, not everyone should be wearing them, and not everyone who does them; does them right. Women of a certain age really shouldn’t have long-ass hair; it doesn’t have to be short, but those long strings hanging on a lot of these women and celebrities make them look like Barbie dolls found in a dumpster behind a Special Needs daycare.

I’m breaking the code of the comb here. I’m not supposed to discuss this but what the hell; it’s just you, my Hair Junkies and friends at HTYM. Has anyone ever wondered where all of this hair comes from that they use in hair extensions? A rumor is a little hair fairy drops it off after every rain storm. If you believe that I have some swamp land I'd love to sell you in Florida. If you investigate the extension people they will sweetly inform you that all the hair is donated from village women from a far off country. Yeah, this might satisfy a reality television personality (because they’re dumb and have no soul) but really? I know from good source that the majority of hair extensions are cut off corpses. That is where some of these places get their hair from, dead bodies, and you think you suffer for beauty!

So it’s nice to know, if you drop dead someone will shave your head and sell it to a company, then resell it to a hairdresser, who in turn will piece it on some strange woman’s head. Death really is a bitch.

It’s pretty gross when you think about it; people wearing someone else’s hair on their head. I was really happy when Miley Cyrus took out her extensions and cut her hair short; no matter what the beauty industry tells you, short hair looks great on a lot of people, especially when you’re young. 20-year-old girls don’t need fake hair and fake eyelashes and fake everything; it’s when your older that you’ll have to pack on more of the artificial to look au natural.

I myself like fake hair extensions that you can clip in, you can’t wash or blow dry them, but they are great to stick in when you need them, just toss them out when they get fugly.

Also no dead spirits will haunt you in the middle of the night, chanting, “Give me back my hair, bitch!”

For the real deal about extensions and hair, check out my NEW book, Your Hair Looks Like Crap!: How to look expensive in a cheap world, here on Amazon http://amzn.com/B016R7M1F6 Only $2.99!

Some Editorial Reviews for YHLLC:
"Every woman needs this book on her shelf. Ever wonder what your hairdresser really thinks of you? Read on girls and laugh your a** off!"-Barbara Morretti, Source Books.

"The celebrity stories are vicious and telling...just how I like them." William ...Katz, Gay Happening Weekend.

"Shocking, funny and educational. I bet I'll never get a bad haircut again after reading this"- Nora Felipe, Glam-Girl Online.

"Taylor makes a point that other 'hair' books are all fluff. He certainly tells it like it is, and I loved every minute of it!"- Gemma Stone, Beauty World, England.

Marla Maples Wants Hairdresser To Work For Free

2017-01-17T17:18:00.002-05:00

Marla Maples and creepy doll look-a-like daughter, Tiffany Trump, tried to get a hairdresser to do their hair for free, in exchange for 'promoting' them on their Twitter.

Hairdresser said she works for a fee, not for free...

I've worked with the public for 20 years, and always found people with the most money, ask for the most discounts and free services. I'm glad this hairdresser balked at mom and daughter con-artists, Marla Maples and Tiffany Trump.

Hairdressers stand on their feet all day, listen to people as they talk their ears off, get nickled and dimed by most salon owners, and mostly work on commission without health coverage. They deserve to get paid for their work and tipped if they do a great job.

Fu*k you 2016! You sucked!

2016-12-29T22:05:00.001-05:00

This year has truly been like the Twilight Zone. First, people voted, and Russia hacked voting machines, to help elect a rich, arrogant pig like Donald Trump to be out next president. Then my favorite 1980s' people, Prince, George Michael, and Carrie Fisher, all died too young.

I hope the New Year finds you all well. Life can be wonderful sometimes, and other times, you wonder if you can pull through. I wish you all hope, love, sass, and good luck for the New Year.

Is Anyone Else Sick Of The Struggle?

2016-12-03T13:17:00.000-05:00

Most days are great. Most days are fine. But why do most of us feel like we’re always climbing a mountain with no end in sight?

There is always the struggle.

The struggle to get up.

The struggle to make money.

The struggle not to slap the latte out of that girl talking too loud on her phone.

The struggle to find work.

The struggle to love and be loved.

The struggle to be understood.

The struggle to smile and shut the fuck up.

Dear White People. You’re Not So Great.

2016-11-30T08:22:00.000-05:00

With the winning election of Donald Trump there has been an uprising in so-called white supremacy. Crude incidents have been reported all around the good old U.S.A. It seems some white people are losing their shit because of all the pride they feel at being superior. There’s been vandalism and verbal abuse and one could only imagine—violence—will follow.

How sad. How pathetic. What makes white skin better than brown, or black or yellow or Smurf blue? Please tell me? I’d like to know because I’m white and I guess I’m proud, but the color of my skin has nothing to do with my achievements.

The year will soon be 2017 and many times it feels like some white people are turning back instead of going forward. So if we get rid of all the immigrants, gays and anyone else who doesn’t seem white enough. That will make America great again? Get a drip on reality, and a better hairstyle. An all-white America will all of a sudden make the welfare-sucking-white-trash become good citizens? Dear white people, you’re not that great. Some of you are awesome, and some of you are racist devils wearing cheap suits.

There are some people who should be deported. There are some people who should be spat on. But to abuse someone just because they lead a different lifestyle than you, or are another color—and that goes for any color, white, black, brown, yellow and blue—it’s wrong, cruel and sad. It hurts to see the tears of the father who got attacked in front of his 4-year-old son by an employee of a hardware store, who repeatedly called him a faggot. "The faggot that voted for Hillary." Other shoppers joined in on insulting the father, and one even said he was going to molest his son.

This is the new America? Some of you reading this may feel like this doesn’t concern you. You’re probably white and straight. Just remember this; Afghanistan was once a thriving and promising place. In the 1970’s women could drive a car, go to college and wear whatever clothing they wanted. Men could choose their career and aspire to do something more than learning how to use a gun. Then the Taliban came into power, and year by year they rose using extreme tactics to control people into believing what they believed in. Now the women are sex slaves with no rights and little Afghanistan boys dream only of war and decay.

No one race is better than the other. We are all humans—and Smurf. So instead of trying to blame a race for your failure as a human being and worrying about being number one, just live your own life, and leave everyone else the fuck alone.

How I Ruined Christmas By Knocking Over The Tree.

2016-11-21T08:30:00.000-05:00

*I grew up an only child. It made me independent, and bossy. It's no surprise I enjoyed telling my parent's what to do. I loved Christmas and decorating the tree. In October, I would be begging my mom to let me put it up.

“Not yet!” she would yell at me as I pestered her while trying on my Halloween costume.

Early November I would still be asking her, ”mom, when can I put up the tree?”

“I said not yet, stop bothering me,” her cigarette ashes falling in the pot, a little extra flavor for that cheeseburger Hamburger Helper.

It would yell and pout. I wanted to put up that damn tree. I was 8-years-old; my life depended on it.

“Can’t we put up the tree now? Mom, please!” I said as she hacked three large sized slices of Pumpkin pie on plates. I stared as whipped milk and sugar made love on the pie. Seconds later an eruption went over the crust like snow down a mountain. It was a calorie landslide and man, was I skiing.

“Please?”

“No!”

“Please, mom?”

“I said no!”

“Please!”

“God damn it, Hudson, do we have to get your hearing checked? No!”

Finally, by December 1st, I wore her down when I kept interrupting her TV experience, “Charles In Charge”.

“Go get the freaking lights already.”

I thanked her with a giggle and ran until I got to the hall closet, throwing things about until I found lights and bulbs begging for my attention. I bundled all the little boxes in my hands and ran into the living room, the closet left behind looked like a tornado had been through it.

“We have to set up the tree first and then we can decorate.” my mom said, a white box hitting the floor with a thud and green fakery peaking out of the top.

When I become a rich actor one day I will have my maids and butlers set up my tree and it won’t be a fake misshapen green thing like this either, no. It will be a real tree, from a forest or mountain, big, green and beautiful. There will be smell of pine and not the smell of an old person when I stand it up. It will be so tall it will hit the ceiling and I will have to stand on a damn ladder to decorate the thing. Regular bulbs from K-mart will not do for my tree, oh no. Faberge eggs will adorn it only, thank you very much, with real 14-no 18 carat gold ribbons. People will “oh” and “ah” as they come by my window, looking at my tree in amazement. I would not care to notice the gawkers as I come out on my balcony and act surprised that everyone was there.

As my mom put up the tree I watched her bitch and moan. Plastic limbs being pushed and shoved like some sale-whore shopping for bargains on Black Friday. Finally it was erect, green and tall.

Would this year be different? Would I get my Farrah Fawcett-Majors doll that I requested? I would be so happy if they surprised me with the gold lame’ outfit set as well, which was sold separately. I know Farrah would look great in it, plus it would fit my Cher, Toni Tennille and Diana Ross dolls.

My father was disgusted with my mom for buying me a Cher doll.

“That boy needs to be into sports and…dirt. Boy things.”

I prayed his attitude would not defer her from making future gender defying purchases. Damn them all to hell if I got another truck.

“You can’t braid a truck’s hair!” I wanted to shout at my Father.

I did enjoy The G.I Joe doll but soon lost interest because I could not style his plastic hair. For some reason he always laid around Barbie’s dream house, muscular and naked on her plastic bed, waiting for her like a good man should.

My mom was great at giving me what I wanted and my father was great at complaining that I was not acting like a boy, a real boy. What was I to him anyway, freaking Pinocchio?

Now it was time to decorate. Bulbs thrown on different branches; cross eyed angels hung by their backs; tinsel, in all its tacky silver glory. The tree slumped with decorations-maybe too many decorations.

My dad walked into the living room, eating cereal out of a box in his underwear.

“Looks like a fairy threw up in here!” He said before leaving.

Finally, I was almost finished and mom wanted to start dinner but the star was left to be put on the tree and I couldn’t wait for her. I followed her into the kitchen.

“C’mon mom, I want to finish it,” I said.

“I have to slave over the stove,” she barked, tearing open 3 boxes of Swanson’s Salisbury steak TV dinner. I walked hard on the floor until I made it back into the living room.

I sat there, pouting, looking at the wonderful tree with its glittering sheen and assortment of gold, red, silver and green. The big silver star sat in its crumpled box, waiting to shine as the pimp of the tree.

Damn my mother, I thought, what does she know? She wears white after Labor day. I guess I will just sit here and stare at the four walls until she gets ready to help me. Only if I was on my own and had a funky apartment; I could do anything that I wanted to do and not rely on other people telling where and when I had to do something; I could eat a jar of Fluff for dinner if I so desired.

“I hate being a child. I can’t wait to be a grown-up and be on my own.” I said out loud to the tree.

On my tiptoes I went over to the star’s box and opened it quietly, cord hitting the floor. I moved a sofa chair over to the left of the tree and climbed on the chair with the star. After a few minutes of adjustments I made the star sit comfortably; like a nympho on top of a sailor. It was happy. It was gorgeous. It lasted one minute as the tree fell over to the right.

Bulbs broke in tiny little pieces; the floor a twisted mess of glitter and glass; wings of angels separated by force. Poor Mrs. Claus looked like a gang of hostile teenagers from South Central Los Angeles had jacked her up.

There Santa was, face down but still smiling with a candy cane up his north pole.

“What the hell—Hudson!” my mom bellowed, her thick legs making sounds on the floor. She tried to pick up the tree but it soon fell on top of her.

"OH Lord!"

“I tried to put the star on,” I answered, trying to hold up the tree so she could roll out from under it. When my mom got to her feet she was a mess of glitter and pieces of broken glass.

“You ruined Christmas!”

“Please, I’m not a child, there is no Santa Claus.” I said, trying to hold my smirk.

“Whoever told you that is a spoiled sport!” she said, anger rising like water in a teakettle.