Something to think about: Masculinity

When will gay men learn that “masculine” and “muscular” is NOT the same thing?

And when will gay men learn to use “masculine” instead of “straight acting” when referring to their manliness? Or shall I say lack thereof.

I don’t know how many times I have see the term “straight acting” in online ads and see those same guys out at the disco queening out, yes I said queening out – as in a fucking flaming queer, to the newest Madonna tune (which is heavily remixed of course, only to make Madge “sound” flawless).

Also, when I see or hear the term “straight acting” I cringe because it projects an image that “acting” gay is not acceptable – and being effeminate is shameful. The gay community has decided instead of challenging this term, they have seemed to welcome it with open arms. With so much promise of celebrated diversity, the community looks as if it is on a downward spiral of self hatred – which is very sad indeed.

Something to think about: Straight my ass!

How many encounters does it take to make a supposedly “straight” man stop using the term “bi-curious”?

Personally, I think if you have more than one sexual experience with another male, especially if it involves you getting your hole stretched by 8 thick inches of man meat, you really can’t call yourself “bi-curious” anymore.

Silly fucking faggot.

29 years of labor!

Yes, it's true. ToxicWaist HAS been birthed.

I still don’t get it

Alright, while screwing around online I came across a MySpace profile that is so disturbing that I wanted to share it with y’all. This only adds more fuel to the fire on my view that religion makes people mentally unstable…

About me:
BORN A SINNER, DRAWN TO THE LORD, ACCEPTED CHRIST, FORGIVEN AND SET FREE!!!!! Currently working for a non-profit, PRO-LIFE, Christian ministry. I believe that abortion is the taking of an innocent human life and that abortion not only hurts the child but the mother and father as well. My desire is to see abortion banned in my lifetime.

Who I'd like to meet:
JESUS-cuz like what CHRISTian wouldn't. I imagine He would have a lot to say to me. George Dubya Bush-best President ever. I love him. He so handsome.......right Erin and Kristen. My Ancestors-I am sure there's some very interesting history. My future husband-Can't wait to spend forever with him.

Did you see what she said about George W. Bush? See… I told you religion bars your judgement!

Jesus was my homeboy… until I caught him eating my boyfriend’s ass!

I’ve noticed a lot of my friends becoming more (radically) religious recently. I don’t know what it is, but some of these people weren’t the most religious people growing up. Actually, they were quite a devilishly fun and highly inappropriate gaggle of peeps. But within the past few years, they’ve gone from grabbing their crotch to grabbing a crucifix. With this change taking place, it’s making it difficult for me to be “me” around them. And by “me”, I mean a pervert.

I had been raised Catholic by my family. Even tho the family was/is a religious bunch, they are not overly religious. They go to church on the holidays and/or for special occasions such as baptismals and communions. So I wasn’t exposed to the extreme side of religion. I feel I was lucky that my mom and dad never pushed a strict religious lifestyle down my throat. They let me make my own decisions on that. And they let me know that they would love me no matter what.

This past weekend in Seattle, while driving through the oh-so-extreme family oriented area of Factoria I had a thought… “people turn to religion when they cannot deal with the everyday stress of life”. People turn to drugs as a way to escape stress while others turn to sex (like me!), music (like me!), food (like me!), and so forth. Anything can be addictive. And religion is no exception.

As I grow older, the more fascinated I become into doing research on organized religion. By me doing this and the more I learn, the more disgusted I get with the way it can manipulate people and mentally affect them. I am in no way saying it’s wrong, if it’s done in moderation and you feel you have become a better person from it, but I will say it’s wrong, if you let it run your life and you start to become a holier-than-thou religious fanatic that won’t shut the fuck up about the lord – we get it, you love Jesus.

My main concern is what will happen to my relationships with certain family members and friends as time goes on and I fully convert to atheism. It’s a just a fear that I will receive a lot of crap from them. I can fully respect someone’s choice to be religious, I just don’t want it shoved in my face. Or even worse, being told that they are going to pray for me. I believe that to be another way of saying that they are right and I am wrong. There are many roads to take in our lives and religion is not one that I will be walking down.

My biggest question is how can you be IN LOVE with Jesus? I mean you can love Jesus, but how can you be IN LOVE with him? Doesn’t IN LOVE mean you want to be intimate? Or like take walks in the park with each other while holding hands and singing “worship” tunes kind of shit? Honestly, how can you be IN LOVE with someone you never met? Or even, shall I say it, existed? I know its all faith based, but you don’t see me worshiping Santa Claus. At least when I worship cock, I have it there right in front of me and I can see it with my own eyes… and let me say that is one thing I don’t mind having shoved in my face.

Placement

I am so not happy with the location of my new cubicle. I had been officially been moved to my new desk last Tuesday by request of the EastCountyFag. I may not be working with my new team full time, but I am now smack right in the middle of their daily going-ons.

I had gone from cozy window seat to a corporate cell glowed by those healthy fluorescent lights. To add to the excitement, my monitor faces out to any co-worker to feast on. I think what annoys me the most is that I am constantly being paraded by squawks who must gallop by my desk on their way to the women’s restroom. And most of the females have to see what I am doing… for whatever reason they have – malicious or otherwise. This kind of behavior that makes me groan. I personally don’t walk around the office talking to people, seeing what they are doing, and peeping onto other’s screens. But they feel it’s their duty to do so. I’m usually too busy to give a damn to do anything else other than sit in my cube. Unfortunately office politics permit that there has to be a few Office Space type Nazis to bring down the relaxed atmosphere at any work station.

I will be a much happier man once I have exited myself from Corporate America. A man can dream can’t he?

Project Recovery: Los Angeles Edition

Oh. My. Gawd. It has happened. I have finally experienced the two day hangover!

Timofy, Woods and I got up early on Sunday morning to attend the LA Pride Parade on Santa Monica Blvd. We had been staying at Lady E’s pad since Friday night. We decided to walk from the apartment instead of hailing down a cab since we knew we would have a hard time finding one anyway. On the walk north, we made a pit stop at Jamba Juice for a morning starter. I had no clue at the time that this would be the last, and only, thing I would have in my stomach the entire day.

We actually got to see the majority of the Parade. I did miss Elvira. Damn. But I was able to spot William Belli, E.G. Daily, and Amanda Lepore – all looking gorgeous riding down the boulevard. I did get to see Janice Dickinson, but the bigger question is who didn’t see her? She was a vociferous piece of floating plastic on a dark colored convertible with a fistful of fags stumbling, err I mean walking, besides and behind the car. Regardless, it was cool that she was all about the queens.

Once the parade ended, we were going to immediately walk into the festival until one of us made the suggestion of stopping for a drink at one of the local bars. We felt it was our duty to have a REAL drink before sealing our alcohol induced fate to the watered down vendors of LA Pride. Mickey’s had looked like “the happenin’ place” so the three of us unanimously agreed we would go there.

The bar was full of drag queens, trannies, faggots, dykes, not out military dudes, and even some hetero peeps. Everyone was having a great time. Woods and I ordered Bloody Marys which were high on the Stoli but low on the Bloody part. Timofy had a beer. Our intention was to finish our drinks then walk across the street to the festival, but after we had our drinks in hand, we headed out the patio area and well, that is where the madness began.

On the patio we ended up meeting San Diegans who were up for the weekend festivities. And how fucked up is that, I go all the way up to LA and meet people who live in my city. I come out to the bars here in SD and never meet anyone.

Anyway, long story short – I got so sloshed (like we drank so many Bloody Marys that they ran out of mix at the bar!) that I was licking nipples, feet, faces, ass and gawd knows what else. I also very loudly commented on the guy jerking off at the urinal in the men’s room. I made friendlies with some straight females, a few Sisters from the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, some hot (by way of beer-goggles) fags, and this one hot (even after looking at the pictures and by my tastes) older guy whom I may or may not have proposition to do me right then and there – and his boyfriend may or may not have been quite angry with me. Who knows?! I was drunk! And I wasn’t the only wasted bitch… ahem.

Lady E appeared at the bar sometime around 4pm... and that is still a hazy memory to me. We all left the bar at some point, but Woods and I couldn’t stay away so the two of us went back. Altho before we could go back in, the bouncers made Woods dump out all of Stoli we had stashed in my man-purse. That was kind of stupid since we got in with it the first time. I also think I made out with someone too.

We did enter the festival grounds much later on, but I don’t recall that at all. All I remember was waking up on the grass as I apparently crashed hard behind one of the vendors. Actually, I do remember being woken up again, except this time by a security guard, only to be wooshed away to another location as I was “making a scene”. I could barely stand up, so he was kind enough to carry me over there. He had very large muscular arms. It would have been hot if I wasn't so damn intoxicated. Woods was my savior as he took care of me while I dry heaved out nothing since the Jamba Juice had exited through my urine earlier in the afternoon.

Woods and I made it back safely to Lady E’s place via taxi cab around 11pm. Timofy was at Motherlode with Mnky while Lady E was M.I.A. – well, she was at Fiesta Cantina but at the time we had no clue where she was. The next day I woke up with a splitting headache and an empty belly craving a seven course meal. I was able to get food, but the headache didn’t stop. And still hasn’t. It's fucking Tuesday night and I still feel like hell.

Despite being one hell of a pride weekend, I will never drink on an empty stomach again. I have learned my lesson the best way… the hard way.

Pausetatics

My blog is one of the few projects that I have started and NOT forgotten about. I have a tendency to begin things, and like the space cadet that I am, move onto something else after a few months, weeks, hours. How Sagittarian of me. I am happy that I can use this as an outlet where I can write and be creative. Although the past four weeks have been completely loony with the move, the awful hours at work and the never ending bookings of my social life (I make it sound more glamorous than it really is) that it has been hard for me to continue this blogging process.

My goal for the month of June is to be more diligent in getting my posts out on a regular basis, and on time. The biggest obstacle I have is posting my pictures. I am such a shutterslut that when I do take pictures, I end up with too goddamn many. For example: Coachella weekend. Did you see all those fucking pictures? And that was only half of them. Oh well. With LA Pride around the corner, my trip to rainy Seattle, and five days in San Fran, I am most certain I will have way too many pictures to post.

And to think, this upcoming September it will be one year that I have been blogging. And trust me, that is a great feat for little ole procrastinator me.

Underwhelmed

Sometimes there is comfort in chaos. This is being said after the craziness that has been my life the past year and a half while working at my current employer. I have been on THEE most demanding account in the department. I’ve dealt with lies, backstabbing, and incompetence directly from The Client – which is not unusual for Corporate America. I guess being placed into this mix has made me accustomed to this type of business. But looking from the outside in, it’s really quite sad that this goes on.

The more and more I inch towards moving from my team to the new team, I feel my stomach knotting. From what I have experienced in my new environment, I am not completely thrilled with the idea. Honestly, it’s quite nerve-wracking. I realized I like the hussle and bussle of the “who knows what the hell is going to happen next” day to day activities within my team and The Client to the oh-so-relaxed but almost catty view of my new surroundings. I guess time will tell.

The upside to my new schedule at work: Fewer hours spent in the office; and more time to write, chill, & experience life.

The downside to my new schedule at work: Less money.

I guess since I will be earning less money, I am going to have to start charging my tricks in order to keep up with my current state of finances – which is not cute btw. But what’s even sadder than that is I could never charge for my services. Once a slut, always a slut. And this slut will be forever free.