Obviously, we went camping in God's Country again. You can always tell by signs like these right before you see a local porn shop. Funny, I don't ever remember Jesus saying that in the Bible, but it's been a while since I've read one. Maybe I need to get their version.
Never go camping with the threat of thunderstorms and hail. Makes for a muddy camping experience. If I ever see red Texas mud again, it will be too soon.
What happens to a group of gay men cooped up in a cabin? The token youngin' decides a rousing game of Truth or Dare is in order so he can get into the pants of the guy on the bed next to him. Sheesh. When was the last time I played this fucking game? 16 years old? All he had to do was ask the poor guy who spent most of the evening drooling over his up and coming conquest. Kid's these days. What ever happened to a good old "You wanna go bump uglies?"
After plenty of ball grabbing, de-pantsing and french kissing (I was the first one naked by the way, which is always the case it seems), we headed down for a drag show. I swear these queens were popular back in the 70's. Camptown Drag now being their only outlet to perform. Bless their hearts. When performers are grabbing bottles of alcohol from the audience to do a shot, you know the night is just a trainwreck waiting to happen. Ever been chased by a drunk drag queen?
It ain't pretty.
Ever seen good ol' fashioned Texas Drag? I swear I looked for a bottle of bleach and a scouring pad. Their performance was actually hilarious and brought down the house. Sad, but one of them looks like my mother and my grandmother back in the day.
We headed into town the next morning for some lunch with the locals. You can't swing a dead cat without hitting a Dairy Queen. Next time remind me not to show up right when the Baptist church just got out. Where's that bleach and scouring pad when you need it?
Brian and I decided to take a romantic trip out onto the lake after lunch. First time for either one of us in a canoe and using a paddle. Lots of shrieking let me assure you. I swear there is some sort of lockness monster residing in that there water. Brian assured me it was nothing more then a fish coming to the surface to capture a bug or two. I have to wonder what the people on the docks thought about us. Should have asked a lesbian to go along with us.
After a relaxing drive home and getting naked on the couch to watch movies, we retired to bed completely exhausted.
How did we wake up this morning? To the sounds of a police car chase, ending with a huge crash right outside outside our window. We knew by the sound that threw us out of bed, that something horrible had just happened less then 30 feet away. A guy in a pickup was trying to out run the police and headed down our street the wrong way. When he got to the corner, he ran the red light. At the same time, a van was crossing at that intersection going on with his daily deliveries. The truck was traveling way over 80 miles per hour. Little did he also know that someone was crossing the street at the same time.
Witness accounts talk about how the truck nearly over turned numerous times during the chase. Other witnesses told about the impact which almost took out the corner of our complex. We ran downstairs immediately thinking the people might need help. 10 police cars beat us there. It was only seconds before ambulances, and firetrucks arrived and local news helicopters were circling our building. Somehow the driver of the van actually walked away from the wreck, laid down on the stretcher himself and was taken away. The driver of the truck had to have the top of his truck cut off to remove him. He's alive. The person underneath the car wasn't so lucky. One died, two others injured.
I just stood there horrified while we watched them put the body into the coroners van.
A wonderful weekend of drinking, friends, drag shows, swimming and conoe rides on the lake ended with the stupidity of someone today taking the life of another. All because he wouldn't just stop and pull over.
Makes you think about things. I'm just disgusted at the people standing around taking pictures. I'm sure that's going to be a nice addition to your scrapbook.
Think I'll stay home today.
Update: Only took a short time for it to be online.
If someone could gain notoriety for something trivial, I'm notorious for totally bizarre-ass dreamsright before I wake up. The kind that causes you to sit up saying, "What the fuck??!"
This dream had bloggers, San Francisco, topless lesbians, boys in their underwear and much more. Disclaimer: Anything in italics is strictly regarding the contents of the dream.
Brian and I had embarked on a nationwide tour of GB:??'s. Soon we could be found coming to a local gay bar in YOUR neighborhood. Our first stop in this blogger meeting tour was San Francisco. Sam and his other half Jeff, were gracious enough to let Brian and I crash in their spare bedroom.
We arrived in Sunny California and drove to meet Jeff and Sam at their house. I remarked to Brian that San Francisco looked a lot like a combination of Astoria Queens and the set of Avenue Q. I was picturing it more clean and less crowded. I was reprimanded by Jeff when I mentioned this to him. San Francisco was heaven on earth, NOTHING like Astoria Queens and Avenue Q. I kept my mouth shut after that.
Jeff apologized to us saying that he had to go to work, despite the fact that it was Friday afternoon. All he told us was that he was going to work for The Man at Apple. He wouldn't tell us where he was going or how long he was going to be gone for. He was very secretive. He made sure we didn't follow him. Almost immediately, Sam told us he had to go to work for a few hours. I tried to stop Sam from going out of the house only wearing his boxer shorts and fuzzy slippers. He reminded us that California is a very "laid back" state and not to worry.
He was right. We went out side to walk around the city and everywhere I looked were cute boys and hot Cops in their underwear or pajama's. Even the local lesbians all walked around topless. I saw boobs for days. California was definately very laid back and casual.
After an hour of doing nothing but hanging on the steps outside their home (we never went for a walk) Sam came home. He told us that he got a call from Jeff stating that we wouldn't be seeing him all weekend. The Man was forcing him to work. Sam took us inside to show us around the house. I noticed how clean the house was. Then I got on all fours to look under the furniture and noticed thousands of dust bunnies the size of my fist. I was horrified.
Sam immediately pulled me up to show me his collection of music and tried to mix for me. While Sam was mixing, numerous people came walking through the door. Friends from Dallas, people I knew from college, my brother.....no other bloggers. I was getting worried our first GB:SF was going to be a flop. We were going to be meeting at Daddy's for drinks and I was sure no one was going to show.
While chatting with everyone, the doorbell rang. Sam received a package. Jeff had sent him a bike. Sam was excited, telling me that it cost hundreds of thousands of dollars just to PARK your car in San Francisco. I was shocked. He opened the box. Jeff had bought Sam a fancy low rider bicycle.
He told me and some obscure girl who I didn't know, to take it out for a spin around the neighborhood while he went back to work. The rest of the weekend in San Francisco was me and this weird girl, taking turns on the low rider bike.
I never saw Sam, Jeff and Brian again.
Of course, I wake up with a raging hard on that wouldn't go away. After a VERY quick sex session to get rid of the Persistant Little Fucker, we hopped in the shower and tried not to be late for work.
A very nice way to start the Memorial Day Weekend.
Have a safe and fun holiday weekend everyone!
Now that I'm in a relationship with someone I love, I start wondering what our lives will be like 10, 20 or possibly 30 years from now. What does the future hold for us? Where will we be living? What kind of jobs will we have? Will we be 70 years old and hanging out at a local watering hole, hitting on the cute bartender and tipping way more then what he's worth?
I can see us sitting in a quaint little piano bar in our matching polyester jumpsuits, sipping dirty martini's, belting out showtunes. Brian will still know every person in the bar, acting like Julie the Cruise director only with a walker, and me still trying to sneak a cigarette without him knowing.
The year would be 2035. We will have just gotten back from GB:NYC32. I'll be 69 years of age and Brian will be 60. I'll hopefully be retired. Brian will have a few more years of bringing home the bacon. Maybe we'll be living in California or Florida, enjoying the sun and sandy beaches. We could just be that old couple sitting on a parkbench feeding pigeons, complaining about "kids these days" at Central Park in New York City.
Will we maintain our stunning *cough* good looks and boyish *hack* charm? Will I peeing my pants everytime I see Kenneth Cole clothing on sale? I'll have a number of years before needing Depends. Will I still be wearing clothes that are probably a tad bit too young for me? I'll have to put my very low, hiphugger bellbottom jeans to rest at some point. No more fancy, foo foo, clubbing shirts. No one will be wanting to see a 70 year old man in a sleeveless t-shirt, so I'm sure those will be put to rest also.
I know I'll have hair growing out of my ears, nose and every other orifice, long enough to braid. Eyebrows that seem to go on for days. I'll have removeable teeth which will be great for giving incredible blowjobs.
Will I have finally found grey hairs in my pubes?
It's all inevitable I guess. I just didn't think I'd look THIS bad.
Need to start using Oil of Olay NOW.
Want to see what you possibly will look like 10, 20, 30 or possibly 40 years from now?
I don't always agree with him. Sometimes he just plain pisses me off. More often, I commend him for saying what many people don't have the balls to say.
My Mother and I were sitting there, having one of our many Mother and Son talks as we did so often. My Mother is not only a Mom, but she's my best friend. We talk, share, laugh, tease. Mom was going off on another tangent about life in the past. When life was easier and more simple. She often dwells the state of things today, gets depressed and starts longing for the way things were.
This was one of those times.
She was reminissing about a time when the entire family would gather together for Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Brothers, Sisters, husbands, wives, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins....it was quite a group. People would cram shoulder to shoulder or as my father would say, asshole to asshole. For hours on end we would eat, talk, play games, talk some more and before you know it, it was late in the evening.
I listened as my mother talked of a certain Thanksgiving Dinner at her Sister's house that was very special for her. I don't remember the specifics as to exactly why. Life was good. Everyone was home. Babies were being born. Family was growing.
As she rambled on about who was there and what was going on, I chimmed in with, "Was Aunt M's dining room a burnt orange color?" "Well yes it was dear", she said.
"Huh. The living room...was it many shades of blue? Blue shag carpet, multi shades of blue curtains. Blue candles. OH, and one of those phones that was baby blue, had a round base with a banana shaped top? You dialed the number on the bottom of the phone I think."
"Yes honey, she did have that, but..."
"I remember you having a sweater...pink I think, that had little crocheted buttons that were small yellow roses with green leaves. I remember playing with them while you tried to carve a ham with an electric...knife. You gave me to my sister so you could finish the job. I remember her hair being really blonde and very big. I called her Sissy." I trailed off.
It hit me that I had to be really young to remember this. For some reason a flood of images, smells and sounds were hitting me at lightening speed. It was almost overwhelming.
My mother silently got up and went into the bedroom. I heard her rustling around in her closet. She brings me 1960's styled baby pink sweater with small yellow rose shaped crocheted buttons that had green leaves, and laid it in my lap. I had never seen her wear this. It was extemely vintage and very out of date for today. She never threw anything away. She just wrapped things in tissue, laid it in a box and put it away.
"How old was I when this happened?" I asked.
"You were 27 months old. The year was 1967. The last year that your Aunt M and Uncle C lived in that house. You described it perfectly. More then what even I remembered."
I swear there's a huge gap from that early moment until years later. I try hard to remember little things from growing up. I can vaguely remember fleeting moments from when I was five and a birthday party when I was seven. None of those moments compare to the intense memories I have from that Thanksgiving dinner in 1967.
Funny how the mind works.
Now, I'm lucky if I can remember what I ate for lunch.
I've seen enough half naked men to last me a lifetime. Ok fine, until the next pool party.
Friday night we stayed home and continued on with our Star Wars movie watching experience. Thank goodness we did. The rest of the weekend was such a damn blur. One thing after another.
Saturday morning, this computertarded boy (that would be me) and his hubby went up to the AIDS Services of North Texas in Denton to help them install Windows XP, set up their network connections, email, profiles, bla.hblah.nerdy.shit.blah, on about 20 computers from 9am until 3pm. I have to say I was pretty proud of myself by the end of the day. But don't be knocking down my door asking me for help anytime soon.
On our way home, we got asked to join some other guys for a pool party with Da Bears in Oak Cliff. I have to say that this years party we attended was much more subdued then last years.
Not much nakedness except for the occasional forced removal of some swimtrunks in the water or yanking down of trunks when someone walks by. Remember our buddy Scott who went with us to Spring Round Up and got so drunk he tried to stop the world from spinning by placing his hands on the ground? Seems he's quite fierce at water ballet.
You can see the rest of the photo's here. Sorry for the grainy, out of focus shots. I think the heat was getting to us. It averaged 97 degrees and mixed with alcohol, I'm sure we fried some braincells.
Later that evening, we headed to The Rose Room at S4 to see the infamous drag show staring my favorite drag queen Mya Douglas. I giggled like a school girl when she got excited and recognized me when I tipped her. It's the little things in life people....
Sunday morning we went to church with a friend of ours. All three of us were either raised Southern Fried Baptist or Assembly of God. The church is predominantly gay and lesbian and pentecostal styled. No they don't cut up live chickens and roll down the isles. Not on your first visit, right? The minister that morning was an ex-baptist preacher who has a lesbian daughter. That little church didn't know what hit them. This woman proved that not all bad things come out of a Baptist church. She talked about nothing but love and acceptance. After our come to Jesus meeting and lunch at Buli's, we created our own little pool party at our complex. Just the two of us. Well plus a host of frat boys and gay boys.
What better way to end a weekend? With a rousing game of Shopping! Followed by dinner and drinks with friends, then us crashing on the couch later that night before heading to bed. Are you pooped yet?
I'm just glad to be back to work so I can rest and get some sleep.
(gratuitous shot of my baby)
I want to be Darth Vader. He's so damn cool!
Ok, I can be a pseudo-nerd once in a while. So shoot me. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life with an Uber-Nerd/geek so it's bound to rub off on me a little bit.
I was 12 years old when the first Star Wars film blasted into theaters. I always loved the films, bought some of the action figures, re-inacted scenes out in our backyard with the neighborkids. I usually saw each installment on opening night from that point on. I'm a fan. But I'm not one of those fans who camp out for weeks in line to get tickets, dressed up as their favorite character, playing light saber battles when they're bored.
Probably the same guys who sit around on a Friday night playing D&D. *ducks magical spear with a hit power of 4+ being thrown by Jimbo, who's a level 6 Dark Elf from the underworld city of Menzoberranzan, home of the Spider Queen*
(Love you Jimbo)
Brian turned into a little bright-eyed 10 year old kid sitting there last night as we watched, Star Wars Episode III, Revenge of the Sith. Could they fucking make a longer title? He was so cute. So cute in fact, that we immediately had to run to Blockbuster Video at 10pm to buy Episodes IV, V and VI following the movie.
Star Wars is like Crack for him.
I absolutely loved the movie. It's dark, full of more action then you could imagine and amazing special effects. It's almost dizzying. Yet a feeling of sadness happens when you leave the theater. The Saga is over.
I have to laugh at the critics and "rabid neurotic fans" that hated Episodes I and II. They went on and on about the bad acting, cardboard characters and horrible, cheesy dialogue. How everything was overdramatic and stiff. They criticized George Lucas for not sticking to the forumula and spirit or what-the-fuck-ever of the first 3, I mean last three movies. The whole first three, becoming the last three confuses me at times.
Hmmmm....Me thinks they haven't seen Episodes IV, V and VI in quite some time. After watching Revenge of the Sith, Brian had to watch A New Hope. That's the first Star Wars that came back out in 1977, aka "Episode IV" for all you people living under a rock for the past 20 years. To be perfectly honest, the acting isn't all that great, horrible, cheesy dialogue and it overly dramatic. But it's a classic. Plain and simple.
Rabid Fans just like to whine.
After re-watching part IV last night, they're all really the same.
I laid on the couch while Brian laid on a blankie in front of the TV with his sodapop, pointing out different things about the movie that I might find interesting. Didn't Mama always say not to sit so close to the TV or you'll go blind? Mine did.
I'm sure come Saturday morning around 8am, he'll be sitting two feet in front of the TV, crosslegged, eating his Cheerio's, watching Star Wars.
Only this time, minus the Luke Skywalker pajamas.
Many things run through this busy head of mine. Random things pop out of nowhere then disappear. I was even pondering the thoughts of starting yet another blog titled "Random Thoughts: Here today, gone in 10 seconds." Like I have time to do that....
I hate trying to pee in the morning with an erection.
I want to catch the guy who goes into the bathroom stall at work and hangs long strips of toilet paper over every crack between panels. He just pisses me off. No one wants to see his skanky ass taking a shit anyway. You're probably the same guy who pisses on the toilet seat and never flushes.
There should be a National Bitch-Slap Your Co-worker Day.
I'm addicted to my new Creative 30GB mp3 player. I just finished uploading every CD I own. The thoughts of sitting at a computer for hours on end, uploading cd after cd makes me sick to my stomach.
The only good thing about having a huge argument with your other half, is makeup sex.
I forgot how much I missed getting a wonderful massage from a trained therapist. Must continue to get one on a frequent basis. Having warm oil rubbed all over your naked body isn't such a bad thing either.
When I wash my car, it rains. A superpower I hate possessing.
The word Helpdesk is an oxymoron. Like Jumbo Shrimp.
I still know every word to almost every Carpenters song.
Customer Services Reps absolutely fucking HATE me.
There are just not enough hours in the day or days in the week...
My brain was so fried yesterday, I couldn't make any sort of cohesive thought that lasted for very long. Couldn't concentrate. This is what happens when work kicks my ass.
The place where the higher the hair, the closer to Jesus.
Where women break out their fur coats when the temperature drops to a pointy-nipple-inducing 55 degrees.
A place where you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a Baptist Church or a Titty Bar.
A city full of nothing but pickups and SUV's. Many of them full of migrant workers crammed 5 people deep in the front seat alone.
An area where we're blessed with only two seasons. Summer and Hot.
A city which has an incredible nightlife filled with men sporting highlighted hair, tight spandex shirts and little Mr. T starter sets around their necks. The women wearing pole dancing shoes, bleached blond straight hair, spray on tans and attitude.
A city that put the Tex in TexMex food. If you're name is Juan and you find an empty building, put a restaurant in it.
A city where if you ever set off a bomb at a Nascar race, you'ld get rid of two-thirds of the redneck population. Nothing but tube tops, mullets and Coors light flying everywhere. Ya better duck.
A place where many of us aren't proud to say "Our President is from here." I for one, agreed with the Dixie Chicks.
A city where you feared for your life if you ever put a democratic bumper sticker on your car.
A city where most people are from somwhere else. We're all transplants. True Texans live in Ft. Worth, hang out at Billy Bob's and probably own a horse.
Dallas, Texas. A place to call home.
Oh, I know I'm making broad statements about our fair city, but I do love it here. Despite it's many faults, it has a lot of wonderful qualities. Maybe I'll list them another day.
A place to call home.
After ten years I guess I should call this place home. Home is where the heart is, right? Home will always be back in Nebraska with my family, but my new home resides here. I never knew if this would be the place I'll stay. Maybe another city holds bigger and better things for me and my partner. Maybe not. Who knows.
One day at a time.
I wouldn't be thinking like this if we hadn't driven past an old apartment complex in the gayborhood that they're totally gutting and "re-conditioning", turning it into these fabulous Condo's. Complete with hardwood floors, granite kitchen tops, new applicances, crown moulding, huge balconies and private patios. Basically they're only using the brick shell and replacing everything else. The price? Only 89K for a small one bedroom and upwards to 121K to 150K for 1000 or more square feet.
That's a steal in this neighborhood. The area isn't the greatest yet, but little by little they're tearing down the old and building the new. The Dallas Way. This complex will still have some old neighborhood charm. Not the cookie-cutter hip urban style of everything else around here. Those usually start around 250K for a one bedroom and upwards to 500K for a two bedroom.
It just got our juices flowing. Talking about taking the plunge within a year and trying to BUY a house or condo together. We both immediately got stomach aches after starting the discussion. Thank God for Tums.
It's all just being tossed about. Hell, we might not even get approved. We might not be able to afford it just yet. We might half kill each other before then.
Lot's of "mights".
But Dallas could possibly be a true home one of these days.
Now where did I put my Tums?
I think I've found the sure-fire way of preventing hangovers the next morning after a night of drinking.
Mexican food.
Friday night we went out after work for only a couple drinks. That usually means 10 drinks with a few shots. We were a mess. We made a new friend named John who's from London originally, but lives here in Dallas now. He's a massage therapist part time. It only took me until Saturday afternoon to call him up for a massage. Pure heaven. I heart my new friend.
Normally after drinking that much, I'm miserable the next day. I've tried taking aspirin and drinking lots of water before and after I go out. Doesn't work. I've even tried the hangover pills you can find at most nutrition shops. Nada. We snarfed down platters of enchilada's and that for some reason, prevented a hangover. I just know it.
Sunday afternoon, my boyfriend gets a wild hair up his ass and wants to go to the Bear Beer Bust. Again, we're only going for a couple hours. We arrived at 3:30. Around 8:30 we're leaving, heading for the nearest Taco Bueno we can find. This morning after drinking cheap beer in the hot sun all afternoon? I feel great.
Mexican food works.
The afternoon was as always full of half naked, extremely handsy bears and cubs. Funniest part of the evening was running into a Porn Star who resides in Dallas, while I was in the bathroom. He's your typical hairy, big leather guy with whip marks on his back, nipples that look like eraser heads, tattoo's and smokes a cigar. He was a mess. Someone next to him at the urninal yells out how big his dick is. He's slurring, "I'm ssssoooo drwunk an my dhick ish not dat BIG!" as he looks my direction.
He turns my direction to show me. I get a little choked up and teary eyed then exclaim in a whisper, "Holy Shit, it really is that big."
My asshole hurt just thinking about it.
Then I immediately ran back to find my husband, then headed out to get mexican food.
Tight-cheeking it all the way.
Create your very own Jerry Springer Show!
I did and it's some crazyass shit folks. I still can't stop giggling.
The Jerry Springer Show : Episode 627 : "Marriage Meltdown!"
[The crowd starts chanting "Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!"]
Jerry: Tonight on "The Jerry Springer Show" we have a particularly interesting episode! Zeitzeuge is here to finally confess something to a long-time friend, Homer. So everyone, please put your hands together for Zeitzeuge!
[The crowd whoops and hollers]
Jerry: Okay, now Zeitzeuge you're here to talk about someone aren't you?
You: Yes.
Jerry: And what is this other person's name?
You: Tunagirl.
[The crowd squeals with delight]
Jerry: Okay, okay, well Tunagirl, is actually here tonight ...
[The crowd squeals]
Jerry: But first we have a surprise for you Zeitzeuge, because as it happens there is someone else here to see you! So let's bring out ... Palochi!
You: What the HELL!!!
[Out of nowhere you pull out a purse with a brick in it. Palochi reaches for the chaise lounge. Out of the shadows Aaron appears]
Aaron: Wait everybody, wait!
Jerry: Yes, everybody let's just calm down for a moment here. First, tell us why you're here Palochi.
Palochi: Because I saw Zeitzeuge and Aaron making out at local porn store!
[The crowd goes absolutely insane]
Aaron: That's a lie! I was home watching Desperate Housewives!
Jerry: [raising his hands] Hold on, hold on, I'm missing the problem here ... what exactly is the problem Palochi?
Palochi: Because I've recently been taking part in a sexual relationship with Homer who has recently become engaged to Aaron.
[The crowd hollers, screams and whoops in an orchestra of excitement]
Jerry: Okay, okay. Well why don't we bring Homer out here because Zeitzeuge had something that they needed to tell them anyway about ... Tunagirl that's right!
Homer: [enters onto stage and saunters over towards you] What's the deal? I saw you outside getting it on with Tunagirl! You know how I feel about Tunagirl!
Aaron: [screams] What? Why the hell did you ask me to marry you if you're in love with Tunagirl!
Homer: Because I knew that I could never have Tunagirl. But Zeitzeuge promised me that they'd never hook up out of respect for my feelings!
Aaron: What about respect for my feelings!
[Palochi walks suddenly across the stage, embracing Homer]
Palochi: Don't worry baby, you don't need any of them now that you have me.
[Again the crowd squeals]
Aaron: Oh my God! Are you sick!?
[Aaron runs across the room and wraps their arms around you tightly]
Aaron: Zeitzeuge take me away from all of this!
You: You see? That's the thing ... I'm ... well, I'm married ...
[The crowd does its bit]
Aaron: Married?
[You nod]
Aaron: Who the hell are you married to? When ... when did this happen? I don't understand!
You: The other day. In Vegas. I'm married to Tunagirl.
Homer: [screaming] WHAT!!!
Jerry: [grinning widely, makes an enquiry] So ... did you have a nice wedding night?
Tunagirl: [stepping back out onto center stage] Well we had sex 8 times if that's what you mean.
[The crowd squeals]
Jerry: Okay, okay. So let me get this all straight ... Zeitzeuge is married to Tunagirl who Homer has secretly been in love with for years and years. Now Homer has recently become engaged to Aaron who was recently spotted kissing Zeitzeuge in local porn store. Now on top of this, Palochi has just admitted to being in a sexual relationship with Homer.
Tunagirl: That's right Jerry.
Jerry: [looking sternly into the camera] It's times like these that one has to wonder whether or not these people are aware that they are quite clinically insane. Perhaps we should be spending more on psychiatric health funds in this country, perhaps we should just ban Vegas to cut down on impulse marriages. Perhaps I should get a new job. Thanks for watching folks - it's been great - but for now, take care of yourselves ... and each other.
[Cue cheesy background music and fade to black]
We both woke up in such a chipper, good mood this morning. Neither one of us could understand why. I'm sure as hell not a morning person. I'm always grumpy. Lately, Mr. Perkypoo-Every-Single-Morning has even been a little Mr. Grumpypoo this past week also. We chalked it up to being tired from our trip. Nope. We finally turned on the airconditioner last night.
Amazing what cool air will do to a good nights sleep and a persons disposition in the morning.
While hanging around the breakroom at 7:00am this morning with a couple co-workers, one told a story of what happened to her and her husband last night. They both took their 3 year old daughter and newborn twin boys out to dinner. After a lovely evening with her family, they get ready to pay the bill. The waitress takes their credit card, then stops off at the table next to them before heading back to the wait-station. This was odd they thought. When the waiter came back, she leaned over and said, "The table next to you, paid your bill."
Why? Out of the kindness of their hearts. No other reason. Maybe they were happy that the children were so well behaved and didn't ruin their own dining experience. Maybe they just thought the family reminded them of their own kids and grandkids. Maybe there wasn't any sort of reason behind their generosity what so ever. Who knows.
Random acts of kindness.
How often do we all do it? Not near enough I'm sure. Do you remember the last time you did a random act of kindness? Do you remember how you felt afterwards?
Remember that feeling.
Do it again.
It reaffirms our faith in humanity.
There a moments when I miss home more then others. I'm a Mama's boy. I'll admit that. I'm a homeboy. I'll admit that too. Despite growing up in a midwestern small Nebraska town and not being able to wait to get to a big city, my heart belongs with my family.
We experienced everything together. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, anniversaries, holidays or the birth of a new child. We all went to my nephews little league games and when all my nieces and nephews were in highschool, they would have their own personal cheering section at their basketball or volleyball games. Even my brothers played softball for 10 years and we all sat there at every single game, come rain or shine.
I can't even begin to tell you the number of graduation ceremonies I've had to sit through. Or how many baby or wedding showers I had to sit and hear endless streams of oohs and aahs.
No matter what I did in my life, my family was there. When I graduated from highschool, thirty or more people stood up in a crowd of thousands and yelled and screamed as I walked across the stage. Clapping for each student wasn't allowed. They didn't care. Same thing thing happened at my college graduation. I had huge receptions thrown for both events. Every member of my family was there. When I had my first gallery showing, every single damn relative I knew about was there. Even many from my father's side of the family to whom we're not that close with.
Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews....we're talking upwards of 100 people just in my small hometown. When I decided to leave my bubble of existance and move to that Big City, I always felt like I was living outside bubble with my face smashed up against it looking in. Wanting to be a part of what was going on, but could only just stand there and wave back. I get the letters, emails and phone calls telling me what's going on in everyones lives.
But it's just not the same.
Only reason I'm feeling this way is because my Mother called me yesterday. God love her. She calls me in this shaken voice saying, "Have you heard about *insert small town*? First off, let me just say that your sister is OK."
Of course, I'm the one that starts to panic a little wondering what the hell happened. Hundreds of things start racing through my mind. Who's in the hospital? Who had a wreck? Was our town blown away by a torna.........do.
Well, not quite. Let me remind you that during the months of May through September, you practically spend half of your life in the basement with warning sirens blaring, blankets over your head. A massive storm hit my hometown, but just the south and southwest portion. Tornado's touched down, mainly hitting small farms and silo's near the edge of the city limits. Never completely reaching the city. But on the edge of the storm was hail the size of tennis balls along with 100 mile and hour winds. My sister's house. Now that I think about it, 2 aunts and 4 cousins homes too.
My sister called my mother in the middle of the storm. All my mother could hear was a loud roar with the sound of glass breaking. The hail bent door and window frames, broke all windows, put holes in the siding and ripped off all the shingles. Both brand new cars sitting outside were complete demolished. All plants and trees were stripped bare. She had calmed down by the time I talked to her, but I could hear how upset she was.
But there wasn't a fucking thing I could do about it.
By now, family has gathered to check out the damage and get a "game plan" togther. I'm sure a few people even brought over a few covered dishes and they had a potluck. The thoughts of that make me laugh.
I guess I'll just continue to stand outside the bubble and wave back.
Normally I would just post this over at Itchycoo, but this is too good to not post here also:
Eugene Mirman recorded his conversations with United American Technologies, the Christian-based phone carrier. Two conversations are linked below:
We're back. We're tired and our feet hurt. I can't begin to tell you how incredible this trip was for the both of us. The hospitality of friends and bloggers was the best. I could go into detail of the weekends festivities in detail, but instead I'll give you a quick recap and let the pictures speak for themselves.
Thursday night we arrived, found the apartment we're staying at and headed to the Food Bar for dinner. It wasn't long before we got a call from an anonymous drunk blogger slurring that they were at Barracuda. Of course, we joined....and drank. Last thing I remember was being at Rawhide asking the bartender why in the hell he didn't carry medium shirts for us slender guys.
Friday we spent sightseeing before getting ready for GB:NYC2 at Barrage. After discussing it with others, we estimate the number of bloggers to be around 50+. I know I used up almost two sheets of nametags which totaled 60. It was like walking into a room full of friends you've known for years. It was great meeting new faces and being able to see some old familiar ones. I felt like Julie the Cruise Director the whole night, making sure I spoke to everyone, took pictures and mingled.
I feel bad that we didn't get to spend more time with many of you that night and the rest of the weekend for that matter. There never seemed enough time in the day to see everyone, do everything, visit everywhere.
Saturday was our anniversary, so we slept in, got up for brunch at 24 Hour Diner and spent some time shopping before heading out to Long Island for a BBQ at Jess and Marc's place. Incredible food, beautiful house, great company.
That night we ate at Tavern on the Green and had a wonderful dinner. We were going to meet some people out on the town, but decided to spend a romantic evening on the rooftop of our apartment building, viewing the city. Around 11pm, we got a wild hair and went down to Times Square and just walked around for a couple hours.
Truly a magical night.
Sunday morning we hit the Museum of Modern Art, lunch with friends, more sightseeing then seeing Avenue Q that night. All I have to say is that is the funniest damn show I have ever seen. Period. We met up with a few bloggers at Maries Crisis. It's a little hole in the wall piano bar. A place where young and old broadway singers go to show off. Another great evening.
Monday we went down to Ground Zero and then walked along the pier before heading to 5th Avenue to find God. We found the Kenneth Cole New York store.
I wet myself.
We spent money.
I wet myself some more.
So there you have it. I'm too tired to go into specifics of the trip. Just know that it was amazing. How amazing? See for yourself. If you want to see an ungodly amount of NYC pics see group one. The second group is nothing but pics of the night at Barrage, the BBQ at Jess's and Maries Crisis.
Fuck we took a lot of pictures.....
A big thank you goes out to everyone who came down to Barrage, the BBQ or spent time with us having lunch, dinner or just walking around the city.
Time to start planning...GB:NYC Trinity!
Just let us have time to recooperate.
Just a few hours at work, finish up a few things and finally head out to NYC. We'll be back Monday night. Our livers will remain in NYC. We both can't wait to see so many of you Friday night and Saturday afternoon. Many others, we wish you could join us.
Anyone who's going to be in NYC and needs my cell number, please E-mail me!.
Later Taters!
Holy Shit. 35 37 39 bloggers as of 2:00pm. See the list. I'm wondering if I should call Barrage and warn them. Fuck that, call the city of New York and warn them. Last year about 15 bloggers were confirmed and probably double that showed up. What's that say about this year?
I need a tums.
I'm busy doing last minute things. Still packing *shut-up!*, fretting, cleaning house, freaking out, last minute shopping, biting nails, more organizing and finally just plain being a nervous wreck. I'll be fine once I get on the plane, land and get to our friends apartment in Chelsea. It's everything leading up to it that drives me absolutely batty. Well that and riding the subways once I get there.
It's all that "wanting this vacation to go perfect" thing I guess.
For those wanting to see all the pictures from this past weekends camping trip, just Click Here!
Ok, so I'm just a tad bit anal retentive. I'll be the first to admit it. I'm a Virgo born on the cusp of Libra for Cher's sake. I can't help it.
Before heading out for camping last week, I packed all my shit and told my wonderful, sweet, boo boo kitty to pack his stuff when he got home, since I didn't know what he wanted to take. Of course, we arrive at the campsite and he asks me if I packed his toiletries for him.
Uh, that would be a big NO.
I found out within minutes that he packed a pair of shorts for himself. That's it. Bless his heart. His Mama use to pack everything for him. I quickly let him know that I wasn't his Mama.
Guess who's playing Mama now?
I'm not leaving this fair city of ours and head to NYC unless I have 100% total control of what we pack. Maybe I should get one of those little squirt bottles and squirt him away when he gets too involved in the packing process, like you do with a cat when they get on or around something they shouldn't.
I know I'm packing way too much. You never know what the weather will be like. Rainy, sunny, cool, hot. I'm packing short sleeve, long sleeve, pants, shorts, dressy and casual outfits for both He and I. I know we're only going to be gone for 5 days, but I already have enough clothes spread out in little piles on our livingroom floor to last us for two weeks. I haven't even gotten to shoes and belts yet. That's a task for tonight.
You never know when you might spill something on yourself and have to run back to your hotel to change or find out that Vin Diesel was seen at a local establishment and of course you're looking your worst. And always bring PLENTY of clean underwear. I hear those NYC chilidogs can be MURDER on your digestive system. You have to be careful of sporadic sharting accidents.
I'm just sayin'.
I'm bored. SO.....I put together a list of people I either know for SURE are going to be at GB:NYC2 Friday night at Barrage, they were there last year, or they mentioned it in passing that they might come:
Me Me Me!
Homer'World
Glennalicious
Crash and Byrne
CSCFON
Dogpoet
Palochi
Ruggerjohnnyd
Dharmabums
Jimbo
1000 Words and More
JoeMyGod
Dantallion
Til the Cows Come Home
My Firday to Sunday Life
Splenda in the Grass
Patch
Watersea
Addaboy
Apt3E
OpieBlue
Wherever I go, Hugo
Some amusing blog pun
...Now, how did I get here?
Life by Jase
TRL The Rob Log
Robocub
Evil Buddha
Meanwhile
Boy Wonder
We Like Sheep
From The Ashes
Random Thoughts and Nonsense
At the Mountains of Madness
Circleinasquare
Proceed at your own risk
The Bokey Chronicles
Kentucky Boy in New York City
uesless!worthless!insipid!
Postcards from Hells Kitchen
Rumor also has it that a certain "Spacewaitress" might be invading our airspace and make a surprise appearance if time permits. Cross your fingers!
Let me know and I'll add you to the list.
UPDATE!! EVENT INFORMATION!!! CLICK HERE!!!
I'm beginning to enjoy this thing they call camping. Being the slick *cough* city boy that I am, I usually prefer fancy hotels, nice restaurants and afternoons of shopping, but I'm loving getting outdoors and roughing it.
Well, spending your days in a 1960's trailer isn't roughing it, but it's all about baby steps.
After arriving and playing a rousing game of Bingo with 100 other Homo's, we walked around beautiful Lake Whitney. Brian took us to a place on the hill that has been known to get a little frisky action late at night. I couldn't understand why any gay men would love to go into the woods to have sex. New one on me. Towards the end of the trail, we came to a cliff. To our right was a staircase with some sort of biblical sayings on each step, complete with large railroad spikes. Interesting, I thought. Then we found what was at the top of the Hill. The place where people "got it on".
The years most sacreligious picture. He's SO going to hell for that one. The rest of the evening was spent getting to know everyone and drinking. I should have known how the weekend was going when Mama and Twyla, the Stars of the weekend started off the weekend like this:
We spent the morning recovering, eating a healthy breakfast and then heading out the door for Hillbilly Aerobics. After a night of alcohol, cigarettes and debauchery, you grab a mimosa or bloody mary and cigs, then head out for some exercise. My friend Brad and I were not amused. Hell, it was fucking 9am in the morning!
The rest of the day was spent drinking. Can you see a trend here? Brian and I were pretty lit by the afternoon. Ok, I was lit, he was busy working on getting the show ready. Fifteen jello shots can do that do a guy.
Around 3pm, our buddy Scott finally showed up. The picture below is the only sober picture I have of him from the rest of the weekend. Scott needed to let loose this weekend and sure as hell...he did.
Brad, Brian and I even played a few games of Volleyball. I can't tell you how many hunky men were there this past weekend. Lots of eyecandy, all with their shirts off. I'll post a link to the entire weekends pics later tonight.
After dinner, we went on a drink tour. Eight cabins had a theme drink and decorated their cabins. Eveyone went from cabin to cabin trying each one. Consider this a fucking alcoholic appetizer. One was a titty-bar, complete with a pole dancer and free lap dances. Another was the Lemondrop Aid Stand. The best one had a Catholic Confessional theme, complete with a Nun, Cardinals, Gloryhole Confessional and the Pope arriving in grand style.
The highlight of the weekend was our buddy Scott. He was pretty much sloshed halfway through Mama and Twyla's show that Saturday night. I love it when someone gets so drunk you constantly get a hug, kiss and a "I just looooooooovvvve yooooouuuuu!" every ten minutes. Good times. After the drag comedy show, we went to the Dance at the clubhouse. Scott saw this as an opportunity to hump half of the participants and a time to two-step with the other half. I'm such a shitty two-stepper, he finally just picked me up and twirled me around the dancefloor. Scott's 6'5" and 245 pounds. I looked like a ragdoll. After Brian perked up, we danced our asses off until 2:30am. We are some sore bitches this morning. How in the hell are we going to get around Manhattan next weekend?
Once we decided to head back to our cabin in total darkness, Scott's drunkeness hits him. Bad. The world started to spin. He found that by bending over and placing his hands on the ground, he had the power to stop the earth from spinning. Trying to practically carry a 245 pound man back to the cabin wasn't the easiest thing to do. We had to stop and sit in the middle of the road numerous times for him to take a break. Half an hour later, we're in our cabin with Scott walking on all fours trying to find the bathroom so he could pee. He somehow had his head in the corner of the bedroom at one point so he had to crawl backwards to get out to pee. I finally went to bed and hoped he made it back to his bedroom ok.
The weekend was one of the best. I'm liking this camping lifestyle. We ate our breakfast, chatted with friends, helped clean up and then had our group photo.
While driving out of town, we passed the Sassy G Ranch and decided to pull over and be sassy ourselves.
