Water! Water!
There is no 24-hour McDonald's in Denver
I am back from Denver. I have been since Sunday. A few of you know why I was there - I had a truly incredible time, and there's something to be said for a draft beer and White Russian totaling to only $5.50 at the local gay bar.
During my stay, I was fortunate to witness a speech by Tammy Baldwin - an openly gay congresswoman from Wisconsin. Any good speech leaves you with at least one sentence burned into your memory. This is the sentence Tammy left me with:
"If you want to live in the kind of world where you can put a picture of your partner on your desk, then put a picture of your partner on your desk, and you will live in that kind of world."
And it really is as simple as that.
Anyway, I haven't been feeling very sarcastic or dramatic or self-hating lately, which serves as a neat excuse for the lack of updates. Sorry about that! But I'm sure something life-shattering will happen to me soon enough, at which point I'll blog the hell out of it. Will it involve alcohol, body dysmorphia, or unprovoked blog infighting? Who knows - only time can tell!
Ready for takeoff
I'm traveling this week, so updates may be few and far between. Do they have the Internets in Denver?
Once you have it, I guess a little more can't hurt
No thanks, Queerty - we have enough as it is.
The Holy Threesome, The Hard Body of Christ, and other obvious jokes
I found this ad in a gay newspaper.
It's a bit laughable that this ministry is attempting to lead gay men to faith through uncomfortable sexual innuendo - but hell, if that's the preacher, then I'll get down on my knees any time.
Sweet dreams are made of these
P.S. I am aware of Ethan's challenge. Not surprisingly, he didn't fully abstain from schoolyard insults oriented around vanity — "pretentious clothes" and "stupid pants" — but hey, it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks.
Expect a response, er, when you least expect it.
So, like, apparently there's this drug called crystal meth, and it's not good for you, or something
"I had really, really great sex. It was amazing."
-Emory Etheridge, a 35-year-old recovering crystal meth addict, on his first "booty bump"
"Meth wasn't like alcohol. It was a euphoria. I could have sex for hours and hours and hours."
-Etheridge, on crystal meth
"I snorted it, and I proceeded to have sex like I've never had before."
-Mike, a 33-year-old recovering crystal meth addict, on his first time using the drug
"I had the most productive day at work that I've ever had."
-Mike, on the morning after his first bump
"I can laugh at those stories now."
-Chris Beckman, on one particular meth binge when he stayed up for 36 hours, painted a friend's apartment, and collapsed facedown in an ashtray
"Being good-looking was never a burden."
-Chris Beckman, on being good-looking
And don't use a butter knife
Because, you know, it's not like I've ever posted shirtless pictures of myself or anything
They rush by in blur of flesh and iPod headphones and officious sex appeal, the shirtless joggers who parade down 17th Street like it's some sort of racetrack-cum-runway. Tramps, each and every one, but the real tarts are those who return your stare. Such flirts - such teases! That brief exchange with the unattainable leaves you drained of vanity and worth, whereas it has the opposite effect on the driveby strumpet. The attention energizes him, like some sort of hormone or steroid. Except I'd be willing to bet it makes his balls only grow larger.
Destiny dictates that I will become one of these joggers. In fact, this is a long-term goal of mine. I already have the requisite nipple ring - an accoutrement that adds just a touch of apple-cheeked kink to an otherwise boring ensemble of running shorts and New Balances. Of course, whenever I see someone with a nipple ring I always roll my eyes, but the standards are totally different in my case, I mean, obviously.
But you know what's worse than a nipple ring, as far as attention-seeking devices go? You'll never even guess: rollerblades with light-up wheels. And don't even try to tell me he wore them for road safety - the guy wasn't even wearing a helmet. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued by his epilepsy-causing skates, but each time he rounded the corner of R and Connecticut (he did this three - ! - times), he raced onward in a flash. Sigh - another day, another missed connection.
Smile and nod
Oh, hey look, it's Queerty, sucking Andy Towle's dick from the very first entry.
Growing Despair, Growing Embarrassment
It's their own damn fault, right? I mean, the government ordered an evacuation. Why are these people still there? They had their chance. Now look at the mess they've gotten themselves into. Why am I not surprised?
This is the argument I put up with listening to tonight.
It came not from Sean Hannity. Not from Nancy Grace. Not from Bill O'Reilly. It came from my friends. A few of them. Disgusting.
Angry and confused — though surely not as much so as those in New Orleans — I phoned a friend, a lifeline, someone who could assure me that compassion still existed, no questions asked.
He said he agreed with me. That there was no way the city could have been evacuated on such short notice. But — there is always a "but" — I should be "open-minded" to differing "opinions." Opinions. Not racist misconceptions. But opinions.
Right.
There is no point in arguing. The actions of our president have already made it quite clear. The hurricane has created a "temporary disruption." Temporary to those fortunate enough to live no where near the Gulf, to be middle class, to be light skinned. It is not temporary to the faces you see on CNN.
Get used to those faces. You'll be seeing them every day for weeks to come.
Howdy!
Did you know that a camel's milk doesn't curdle?