A Very Funny Story

I have a very rare opportunity today. I've been asked to be a Guest Blogger at The Traveling Spotlight. I'm a huge Patrick Doyle fan. No, seriously, I get really huge when I think about Patrick. I'm honored that he asked me to blog for him.

I've decided to attempt a little experiment: Can I tell the same story in two very different ways?

Patrick, who is loved by so many of us, most of all by me, is a comic and a great storyteller. In honor of his beautiful smile and infectious laugh, I hope you'll find humor in what I'm about to tell you.

If you prefer to read the sad version of this story, go visit Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven, and let me know which story you like better!

I was The King of Glendale Elementary in Independence, Missouri. No, really, I was. Children bowed down before my superior height and superior wit. Everything I said was funny and brilliant. The teachers even laughed at my jokes. Everybody wanted to come to my parties because I had actual themes like Luau Parties or Western Parties. (Gee, I wonder if my parents ever suspected I might be gay?) Swearing was forbidden on the kickball field because of me. I didn't cuss, and the kids made a rule that nobody else could either if I played kickball with them.

At the end of my sixth grade year, I moved to Florida with my family. Although I left a few days before school ended, my best friend Tony called to tell me the class had voted me Most Likely to Succeed on the last day of school.

I missed my loyal subjects, but I was eager to live next door to Disney World. I loved Disney World. And that's before I even knew about Gay Day (super gay). My parents neglected to tell me that Fort Lauderdale, Florida is not even close to Disney World. They also neglected to tell me about alligators that wanted to eat my dog, Buffy (gay dog name, especially for a boy dog). We couldn't let Buffy out without watching him every second because an alligator lived in the canal behind our house in Florida. Oh, and we also had Palmetto bugs. My parents never warned me about Palmetto bugs. In case you've never had the pleasure of seeing one, Palmetto bugs are football-sized roaches. And they are everywhere. And if you accidentally step on one when you're not wearing shoes...it's just gross.

So, like Dorothy (really gay) I was whisked away from my farm to a dangerous land filled with flying monkeys (bullies) and witches (bullyettes). No longer was I the king. Instead, I was Shirley Temple in The Little Princess (wow. it's getting gay in here). Forced to live as a galley slave in a cold dark garret (my bedroom with the Chocolate Brown rug), I was poor and friendless.

I was tormented by a flying monkey named Carlos every day because his parents discovered he smoked cigarettes at the bus stop. True, it was because of me that they found out. In a rare lapse of judgment, I nonchalantly told my sister that Carlos smoked. My sister's best friend was Carlos' sister Martha. Martha then opened her big fat eight-year-old mouth to her parents. Because of this mistake, I had to spend every morning begging Carlos not to beat me.

Carlos, if you are reading this, I harbor no ill feelings towards you. The fact that you are now on your third marriage to an emotionally, or, better yet, physically abusive woman named Leona, who makes your life miserable, should be punishment enough. Your children hate you, and you have been unemployed since they fired you from the deli for forgetting to wash your hands after your cigarette break. But I wish you all the best.

I had no friends at school. As a fat Midwestern Gentile boy in a school of Jewish New York/New Jersey transplants, I stuck out like RuPaul at a Garth Brooks concert. One day Gayle Schiller (bitch) was teasing me in class, and I angrily yelled, "I hate you stupid mean New Yorkers." Oops. Remember when all the zombies swarmed their victims in Dawn of the Dead before they ate them? Yeah, that's a lot less scary than what happened to me that day.

Gayle Schiller, I am so sorry I accidentally used your real name in this post. I will try hard to remember to come back and edit this post. I would hate for anybody who knows you to read this and find out what an evil girl you were in middle school. Also, I hope you were married to Carlos at some point. You deserve each other.

Anyway, back to my story. One day everything changed. My salvation appeared. A cake decorating Contest (mega gay) was announced at school, and I decided to enter (flaming Cher-like gayness). See, in my synagogue school, Christmas was not allowed. The hills were alive (gay, gay, gay) with the sound of Hanukkah, and Santa Claus was considered The Devil.

So I attempted to score one for Baby Jesus by decorating a Christmas Wreath Cake. My Cake would look good enough to hang on any front door. People would be afraid to eat it, because it would look so realistic. I knew my creativity was my secret superpower, so I was sure to win the cake decorating contest. After all, back in Missouri, hadn't I won the Valentine's Day mailbox contest in fifth grade by building a cardboard robot mailbox that talked? Inside my robot, I placed a tape recorder that played my "robot voice" recording (Madonna Esther-like gayness). "My name is Robby the Robot. Happy Valentine's Day" played for 30 minutes at a time before I had to turn the tape over. Or, actually, the robot voice tape played for 30 minutes before my frenzied teacher made me turn it off.

Back to The Cake. My secret ingredient was food coloring. By mixing lots and lots of food coloring with white frosting, I created a lovely Kermit green icing for My Wreath Cake. Then my sister (Mom forced me to let her help) and I covered The Cake with mushy maraschino cherries and tied red string licorice into bows. The whole mess was placed lovingly onto a piece of cardboard covered in Christmas wrapping paper. My mom snapped photos of me and my sister with The Cake.

The King was about to return. There was no doubt The Cake would restore me to my throne. I would suddenly and rightfully be the envy of all the other students. They would gather around in awe as I raised The Cake triumphantly to the sky. Then they would lift me onto their shoulders while chanting "Christmas Cake! Christmas Cake! Long Live The Fat Gentile King!"

The next morning, the Queen Mum drove me to school. I emerged from my Royal Car as the other students respectfully bowed low before The Brightest Green Cake you ever saw. I beamed as I walked to the front doors of Abu Ghraib Seminole Middle School. It was at that moment, The Cake fell to the ground harder than Britney Spears crumpling in pain from a knee injury (too gay for words).

The Queen Mum honked the car horn vigorously (thanks, Mom...just in case anybody wasn't looking yet!) and I dejectedly walked to the car. "Do you want to go home?" she asked.

I was faced with a choice. I could stay at school and hold my head up high. I could prove to those flying monkeys and witches that I was a true king. I could prove that I am beautiful, no matter what they say..Words won't bring my down (uber gay)

Or I could go home and spend the entire day alone while my parents were at work. I could experiment some more with my new discovery, which was that "magic things" happened to my body if I touched myself while watching professional wrestling and/or soap opera hunks. I went home and fell in love with Wally McFadden on All My Children that day.

The next day at school an announcement came over the PA system while I was in science class. "WILL THE BOY WHO DROPPED HIS CAKE YESTERDAY PLEASE COME TO THE OFFICE," shrieked the shrill voice coming from the intercom. "BOY WHO DROPPED HIS CAKE, PLEASE COME TO THE OFFICE!"

To spare myself unnecessary humiliation, I waited about a minute before raising my hand to ask permission to go to the bathroom. And when I got to the office, they handed me a $25 gift certificate to El Chico's. They informed me that this was the same amount the first prize winner of the cake decorating contest would receive.

My mom and I went to El Chico's that night. I was so proud to take my mom out to dinner. My mom is the most beautiful wonderful woman in the world, and I would do anything for her. (Gay, Party of One...)

Thanks for reading. Patrick (gay, gay, gay) will be back Thursday.

Come visit me anytime!

Pride Pictures

Here are the pictures from Pride 2004

Pride


***Update Photobucket.com is having server issues...so the pics may not be coming up right now. They are currently fixing the problem.***

I put the link into a blank target so that if you are using dialup, you can just let it load while surfing in this window. I still have a two rolls to get developed, but until I get my credit cards back in the mail, those will have to wait.


The weekend was a blast, but I think the biggest thrill had to be when the hot chick float went by. 50+ women screaming "show us your tits!"...so I did. The next think I know, they are pulling me onto the float, and I am riding in the parade. This year the attendance for the Festival was well over 100,000. It's about 5 times as many people as Cleveland. This of course pales in comparison to Toronto, New York, and San Francisco's 1 million people each.

That being said, I do find in interesting that in another city, I ran into a chunk of people I knew, including on of my former employees who is doing porn now, 1/2 of the softball league, and several others. I only wish I had had more time in the area, but I had to be back early for the softball game on Sunday.

Tomorrow, Hot Toddy is going to guest blog here as I still have one more depletion test to do for this psychiatric study. Be good to him, or I'll write evil things about you.

"Take Your Clothes Off and Lay on the Ground!"

Someone saying these words usually turns me on, but on Saturday morning, I was just way too cold. The tempature was just over 50 degrees, but it was liberating to see the group of women over the age of 80, the breast cancer survivors (with their breasts removed), to my right a sorority house, a grandfather/father/son trio, and in my own section, a group of exhibitionist gay guys and housewives who instantly bonded with witty one line humor. 2700 naked people all laying down in the center of the street, backs to the camera, and I make the comment about how I shouldn't have had beans for breakfast that day. We also broke the record for the largest group of naked people in one place for 4 hours. Would I do it again? Hell yes, it was one of the most fun shoots I have ever done (although my mom won't be to happy when she reads this). Everyone keeps their eyes focused at eye level, and the atmosphere was very pleasant.



Post photo shoot, I hightailed it back to Columbus for the Pride Celebration. Now since I don't have my wallet anymore (the car and my house have been torn apart), the only identification I have currently is an old State ID, that expired in 2001. The first bar I went to, would not let me in. I'm 34 years old, and I felt and was acting like a 20 year old all weekend, sneaking into bars with older men to make me look older, drinking a beer that someone else was holding when the bartender wasn't looking. I felt like a kid again...

I do have most of the pictures developed, and later tonight, should have the pictures up and ready for display. Hope you all had a wonderful weekend.

Polling anyone?

Ok...begin cursing!

Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit! Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit! Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit! Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit! Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit! Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit! Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit! Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit! Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit!

That's better.

Wednesday, I bought $10 worth of gasoline, and put my wallet back into my pocket after paying for it. I then went to the hospital and did the depletion test. Afterwards, I went to the therapist, got my head shrunk, and went home. After dinner, dying for a cup of coffee, I decided to go to the coffee shop. I went to grab my wallet...and poof...Shit, God damned, Mother Fuck, Piss, Hell, fuck me, damnit...my wallet is gone. Called both the hospital and the head shrinker...nada. The bitch is gone!

So now I need to replace my Social Security card, driver's license, credit and debit card, Cedar Point Season Pass, car insurance information, and about $40 (which is gone like the wind). What really sucks in this case is that my bank's closest branch is 200 miles away, meaning that I will be without cash until my new cards are delivered. On the bright side, maybe I can get someone to buy my drinks this weekend...

Speaking of this weekend...it's going to be busy. I travel to Columbus for their pre-pride festival, however, I am already committed to a photo shoot early Saturday morning, I have to be back up in Cleveland at 4 am. The photo shoot is for Spencer Tunic, who's doing a nude photo shoot near the lake. I am going to freeze my gonnads off as the weather tonight is only going to be 50 degrees and I have to be there at 4:30 am. AM...as in ASS MINE BITE IT! And before any of you get too excited (Bill...I'm 5'6"...is that short?), there are a total of 3000 participants that are all getting photographed nude together. Maybe that will get me a date...

Then it is back to Columbus, where I will be watching and marching in the Columbus Ohio Pride parade and festival. I feel the need to get sleep already.

So damnit people...Cheer me up and answer this poll. Sometimes it's good to have some information about you...and if you pick the last option, email me your telephone number.

What's your favorite position?

Missionary...it's religious!
Positions?
Standing my ground!
Woof...Woof!
Backwards cowboy style.
Against the wall.
Swinging and Slinging!
Doesn't matter, as long as the video camera captures the act.
Facing the nearest shopping mall.
Does it matter? As long as it's you and me Patrick.


  

Painting the Town Red

Don't you wish we could pick our relatives the way we pick out groceries?

My cousin, a man from Virginia, is CON-SER-VA-TIVE. Seriously, his politics would make George Bush seem liberal. And for some stupid reason, he is determined to "make a man of me" (read: Republican, "Redneck", and straight). How? He tried by teaching me how to shoot a gun.

His first child learned at the age of 5, so if she could do it, using her "itty bitty gun" (sorry...but I have no clue what type of gun it was), I could use the .44. He explained how the gun works, taught me how to release the safety, and to squeeze the handle with both hands. As I tightened my grip on the trigger and

WHAM!!!

I would be laying on the ground wondering how the hell I got there. Maybe I should be using the .22 pistol? Maybe he should have taught me how to fall down? And really...do you want to give me a gun? Have you not seen what I'm like during a "meltdown"?...and did you just call me "Faggot"?!?!?!?!?

This cousin is laid back, restful, relaxed,...what's the word I'm looking for....LAZY! Seriously, it took him 20 years to finally finish the 2 1/2 story garage he was building on his land. Can someone seriously tell me why anyone needs a garage tall enough to hold a double decker bus?

Of course...he alone is the book of knowledge on all subjects. I come from a family of bullshit artists, but this particular guy is the best. Regardless of how stupid he really is, he is the authority on everything...just ask him. If I was to bring up fellatio, I'm sure he would claim he was an authority...until he realized what the word meant.

Currently he is now in a Virginia militia, and has contacted me to recruit me into an Ohio chapter (note to self...get phone number changed). My cousin was incredibly upset after the World Trade Center attack, and in response, he read a book about Al Qaida terrorism (Terrorism for Dummy's) and he now claims to be a world authority who knows how terrorists "think". Each weekend he dresses up in army fatigues, goes out with his buddies in the woods, and practices military maneuvers. I suggested that he just go to the local leather bar, and he can practice maneuvering while drinking a cocktail.

Thankfully I realize that when Iran, Vietnam, and the Democratic party unite to take over the city of Cleveland, my overweight, underexercised, bloated headed, cousin will be willing to covertly enter the city to open up a can of "Whoop-Ass". And I have to do in return is have sex with women.

Don't you feel safe knowing this is protecting you?

Praise Allah!

Standing Alone

Finished the depletion of my seretonin...While spending way too many hours sitting alone in a room, you tend to think and look at your life from an outsider's point of view. I didn't like what I saw.

One thing I know
And I've always known
I am my own
Best friend

Baby's alive
But baby's alone
And baby's her own
Best friend

Many's the guy
Who told me he cares
But they were scratchin' my back
'Cause I was scratchin theirs

And trusting to luck
That's only for fools
I play in a game
Where I make the rules

And rule number one
From here to the end
Is 'I am my own best friend'

Three musketeers
Who never say die
Are standing here this minute
Me, Myself, And I!

If life is a school
I'll pass every test
If life is a game
I'll play it the best
'Cause I wont give in
And I'll never bend
And I am my own best friend!

Vengeance is MINE!!

Tomorrow and Next Wednesday, I spend the day on suicide watch for the medical study. This always makes me so apprehensive, as when it isn't the placebo...it's hell. By the end of the day, all I want to do is just cry myslef to sleep...but I get $200 for my troubles and free health insurance...so I can't complain too much.

The first part of the study involves me filling out a bunch of paperwork. Today's was asking questions about feelings of guilt. The way the question was worded was "do you feel guilty for things you have said, thought, or done?" Wow...well duh! Of course I'm going to feel guilty. I was sent to Catholic School for years. That being said...I really haven't "done" many things to feel guilty about (that coming back on you 3 times over scares me out of doing things), but I have sincerely wished for some truly mean things to happen to some deserving people.

But when my emotions have completely taken over me, I have done some truly mean things. This morning I remembered something I did in college that was pretty low. All theater majors at the University of Colorado at Boulder are required to spend 135 hours working in the scene shop and 135 hours in the costume shop before they can graduate.

While working in the costume shop, I was in charge of sewing costumes for a show that was opening in 4 weeks. The costume designer asked that I take the measurements on the actors and actresses as they stopped in so that the costumes would be appropriately fitted. This was a large show of 30 cast members, and they all came in during one afternoon.

Now I realize that nobody likes giving out their measurements, and many women feel very uncomfortable, let alone letting a man take the measurements. Being as sensitive as possible, I would ask women to drape the tape measure across their breasts and I would measure from the back their chest sizes. Additionally, I would measure hip size from the side, and inseam was measured by the actress holding the tape measure themselves while I measured the distance to the floor. In other words, I kept things professional, business like, and to the point.

So imagine my surprise when one of the actresses, Rachel, went to the department head and complained that I had touched her inappropriately, while making sexually suggestive comments. It took the intervention of the costume shop supervisor (who witnessed the whole event) to prove that she had been either overly sensitive, or lying.

Unfortunately, I was just pissed to have gone through the whole thing. The designer was just as angry (we gay men have to stick together sometimes), and every time the subject came up, he would go on a tirade. I won't say if he did it for certain, but he made sure that I was to sew her costume.

Those of you who sew know that you generally sew seams with a ¼" of material. When I sewed Rachel's costume, I sewed all the seams with 1 ¼" seams, making the entire outfit about 2 inches smaller all around. When Rachel came into the costume shop for her fitting, the designer gave her the outfit to try on. She tried on the pants and blouse, walked out from the dressing room, and stood in front of the mirror in the shop. The seams on her pants were stretching and pulling at the material, and she mentioned that she had difficulty squeezing into the pants as the hips and thighs were a bit tight. This was very apparent as it looked as if she has squeezed her size 12 body into a size 8 dress.

The shop supervisor took one look at her, and asked, "Have you put on weight?" He pulled out the measuring tape, and started to take her measurements again, all while he just stared at me, smiling. Rachel left the shop, dejected, and he handed me the costume. All he said was "fix it." I took the inseams back out.

I found out later that she was determined to loose a bit of weight before the show opened the following week, and went on a massive crash diet and exercise plan. The night of the dress rehearsal, her costume fit fine, and that thankfully was my last show I worked on from a costuming standpoint.

I wonder what Rachel is doing now? Jenny Craig?

Chapped Lips

Yes...my lips are chapped...I'll get to that later.

FRIDAY

I arranged to go to Twist bar and meet Shamus, Ryan, and Robert (some new blood for the mix). Robert and Shamus recently met during a night out on the town.

We were all there to help Shamus celebrate his big opening (insert giggle here) and attend the play for which he designed the set. This black box theater seated only 30 audience members, allowing the audience to intimately experience what is going on stage as if they were part of the play. I like this form of theater usually, but found the play being presented was Paula Vogel's Hot 'N' Thobbing. Now I've read the play before, and had I realized which play I was going to go see, I probably wouldn't have attended. This play is very, very, very disturbing, and in a black box theater, the sense of being trapped is extreme. Charlene, our heroine, struggles to provide for her two teenage children by writing women's based erotica, when her abusive ex-husband pays a visit. Two speaking voices are the subconscious voices of the characters she writes about, but who slowly take on the characteristics of Charlene and her abuser.

This play was way too close to my own childhood, and it was like living in my father's household once again. I'm not one to be trapped, and characters like this...it can be disturbing. Those of us who have witness abuse in some way or another, will have a seriously difficult time sitting through the play, without wanting to get up, and try to stop the action. This once again...is because the theater is so small, the domestic violence is happening "right in your living room".

Post show...we four went to The Starkweather bar for the opening night party. $4 martinis???? At that point...I needed 6, but I'll settle for one. Ryan hit on a straight guy, and the poor guys girlfriend was getting a bit perturbed. Get four gay men together with some alcohol, and the cattiness comes out.

Now a rule for everyone out there. As a comedian, I have jokes that I tell, but everything I do is scripted, and subjects are chosen based on audience. When I meet someone and tell them I do stand up comedy, I HATE BEING ASKED TO SAY SOMETHING FUNNY!!!!! I have yet to meet a comedian who likes that! My stock answer is "well your ugly and your mother dressed you badly".

Finished up the evening back at Twist, where I could happily walk home.

SATURDAY

Pride Parade starts at 1:00 pm. One of the grand marshals was Dick Feagler, a straight columnist from the Cleveland Plain Dealer. He wrote a wonderful column that really made me stand up and notice him, and sadly, he now has been getting quite a bit of hate mail, as well as death threats for writing it.

The weather was 68 degrees but with the wind coming off the lake, it felt like it was 50 out of the sunshine. Several times I was shivering, wishing I had wore a long sleeved shirt. The parade and festival...small (only 10,000), but this is gay Christmas.

From there is was down to the festival (aka "beer garden") where you can walk the booths selling pride t-shirts (gays and shopping??? Who would have thought?), churches that are always looking to welcome us back, and of course...Politicians booths. Politicians have very quickly realized the grass roots power of the gay pride parade and rallies. The festival had 8 voter registration booths, and every hour, the public announcement was to register to vote. It's a war going on, and my rights are in jeopardy.

Saturday night, dinner at Union Station, and bed by 1:00 am, sunburned, and with chapped lips from the wind. By 2:20, I was drunk dialed by Ryan who was making a food stop at Taco Bell, and wanted to know if I wanted anything. Uhhh...toxic hell?...I'll pass for now.

SUNDAY

The Annual Cleveland Pride Run 5K was a smashing success. Joe and Mike need to be commended for doing this every year, as well as the Front Runners. Since I am living with two torn quad muscles, I was not about to run, so instead I helped with the volunteer work. Registering people, directing them during the race, and cheering people on as they ran back up "killer hill" (a 200 foot hill that leads to the beach off lake Erie).

The off to the Softball games where ladies and gentlemen:

WE BEAT THE LESBIAN TEAMS!

Game 1: Wildcats vs. Lizard Lips. Final Score 18-1 (whoa daddy!)
Game 2: Wildcats vs. Rainbow Warriors (formally Lady Bulls). Final Score 9-5.

After game...bed...I need to let the liver digest and rest a bit.

Hope y'all had a great weekend as well.


Results so far.

1. A picture of people posing in front of the protestors and their signs. Extra points if the sign reads "God Hates Fags!"
   
2. Picture of you kissing a shirtless boy.
   
3. A leather thong.
   
4. The rabbit "toy"
   
5. Prince Albert
   
6. Underwear/partywear for every color of our Flag
   
7. 'Are you a natural blonde? Down there!?!'
   
8. Eyes of every color
   
9. Tanlines or lack there of
   
10. Pec symetry
    
11. a Man-tini - a man with just a martini!
    
12. Dykes on bikes
    
13. Marilyn Monroe drag with a Leather Bear
    
14. Uncomfortable local politician trying to be P.C.
    
15. Pflag mom shouting down “God Hates Fags” protester
    
16. Thongs worn by those who can
    
17. Drag Queen kissing a Cop (the cop must be Real!)
    
18. Short Guys, Short guys are Hot!
    
19. Crass commercial float dripping with,see #16 or #18
    
20. You having way too much fun
    
21. Skag Drag
    
22. Sweaty Fireman
    
23. A total of 16 inches from only 2 men.
    
24. A sane potential son-in-law
    
25. Rupaul autographing your shirt
    
26. A nipple piercing
    
27. Butch (Dyke) wearing pastel pink top
    
28. Man who looks like his pet
    
29. Woman who looks like her pet
    
30. Someone with 6 toes
    
31. Someone smoking a joint beside a police office on duty.
    
32. Couple in the Senior Section of Cleveland Pride showing serious public affection.
    
33. Mistress and her slaves (yes plural)
    
34. Woman with Boa
    
35. Rupaul posing with PC! (One can dream!)
    

New Rules

Seeing that I have no intentions of reliving the Pride Events of last year (never sleep with your friends...but if you do...blog about it), so I've decided to create the rules of Pride.

OFFICIAL RULES OF PRIDE FEST 2004

1. If he is good looking...I saw him first!
   
   
2. If he approaches you, refer to rule number 1.
   
   
3. If he has less than 5 inches, mentions scat(ewww), or beastality...you can have him.
   
   
4. Nothing older than 50 years or younger than 18 years shall pass our lips.
   
   
5. All exposed nipples are asking to be licked.
   
   
6. Making out with a stranger to piss off a protester is fine.
   
   
7. Making out with a stranger to piss off an ex is not.
   
   
8. Making fun of your ex, who has gotten fat, is allowed (right Bill?).
   
   
9. Don't touch the drag queen's make up. You will get bitch slapped into the next century as she spent WAY too much time on that perfect look to have you mess it up.
   
10. We will eat a well balanced meal before attending the pride parade and rally.
    
    
11. Tequila shooters are considered a food group.
    
    
12. The port-o-potties will only hold one person at a time. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO BREAK THIS RULE!!!
    
    
13. One of us must stay in the beer garden at all times to hold our seats.
    
    
14. It is permissible to grab as many condoms and single use lubricant packets as you can, but you must use them by pride next year. If you are in danger of not using them, I'm willing to help you out.
    
    
15. Women's boobies will be exposed. Don't look. They have no power over you anyway.
    
    
16. If you slept with his boyfriend, and his boyfriend doesn't know...never speak of it.
    
    
17. Making fun of the two gay republicans is not allowed. Even though they make as much sense as Jews for Jesus, they are still our brothers and get on their knees like the best of them. This is about tolerance...practice it.
    

The cameras are loaded (the scavenger hunt starts at 5:00pm), and by 10:00 tonight...I'll be loaded as well. If you see me out and about, jump my bones and say hi, and show me your nipple!

HAPPY PRIDE everyone

Don't do anyone I wouldn't do!

How can I put this in a way so as not to offend or unnerve
There's a rumor goin' all round that u ain't been gettin' served
They say that u ain't u know what
In baby who knows how long
It's hard 4 me 2 say what's right
When all I wanna do is wrong

Gett off - 22 positions in a 1 night stand
Gett off - I'll only call u after if u say I can
Gett off - let a woman be a woman and a man be a man
Gett off - If u want 2 baby here I am (here I am)

I clocked the jizz from a friend
Of yours named vanessa bet (bet)
She said u told her a fantasy
That got her all wet (wet)
Something about a little box with a
Mirror and a tongue inside
What she told me then got me so hot
I knew that we could slide

Gett off - 22 positions in a 1 night stand
Gett off - I'll only call u after if u say I can
Gett off - let a woman be a woman and a man be a man
Gett off - If u want 2 baby here I am (here I am)

Gett off (gett off)

1 2 3 - nah, little cutie, I ain't drinkin' (gett off)
Scope this, I was just thinkin'
U + me, what a ride
If u was thinkin' the same
We could continue outside (gett off)
Lay your pretty body against a parkin' meter
Strip your dress down
Like I was strippin' a peter paul's almond joy
Lemme show u baby I'm a talented boy

Looking for an Air Mattress

Bill sent me the following movie. I just thought it was the best.

Air Mattress Anyone?

Keep the scavenger hunt ideas coming...Maybe I can get a date out of this?

I'm on the Hunt With a Camera!

A week or so ago, I had given Brent over at BMW a list of items to take pictures as a photo scavenger hunt, and realized...this isn't a bad idea. So...how about a photo hunt for myself.

So submit items you want photographed and I'll add them to MY hunt list

Since I have no shows coming up, I will be in Cleveland at the Pride Festival this weekend, and the following weekend I will be in Columbus for their Pride Festival. That gives me 10 days to get pictures of as many of the items or situations you can come up with. For those of you who haven't been to a pride...you could see something new, for those of you who have been....no comment. I will be carrying two cameras, one digital and one disposable (some pictures CVS won't develop...*grin*) that I will have developed on disk. My hunt begins on Friday the 18th @ 5:00 pm and will last until 11:59 pm June 27th.

All requests are valid, and I'll make the effort to get them all, and beware of what you ask for, as you will probably get it.


Requests:

Suggested by EDDIE

1. A picture of people posing in front of the protestors and their signs. Extra points if the sign reads "God Hates Fags!"
   
2. Picture of you kissing a shirtless boy.
   
3. A leather thong.
   
4. The rabbit "toy"
   

Suggested by Shamus

5. Prince Albert
   
6. Underwear/partywear for every color of our Flag
   
7. 'Are you a natural blonde? Down there!?!'
   
8. Eyes of every color
   
9. Tanlines or lack there of
   
10. Pec symetry
    
11. a Man-tini - a man with just a matrini!
    
    Suggested by Bill
    
    
    
12. Dykes on bikes
    
13. Marilyn Monroe drag with a Leather Bear
    
14. Uncomfortable local politician trying to be P.C.
    
15. Pflag mom shouting down “God Hates Fags” protester
    
16. Thongs worn by those who can
    
17. Drag Queen kissing a Cop (the cop must be Real!)
    
18. Short Guys, Short guys are Hot!
    
19. Crass commercial float dripping with,see #16 or #18
    
20. Yeah a Prince Albert ,or two
    
21. You having way too much fun
    
22. Skag Drag
    
23. Sweaty Fireman
    
    Suggested by *sigh* my mom on the phone last night
    
24. A total of 16 inches from only 2 men. (I'm making an appointment with the therapist over this one. Thanks mom.)
    
25. A sane potential son-in-law
    
26. Rupaul autographing your shirt
    
27. A nipple piercing
    
    From PC
    
28. Butch (Dyke) wearing pastel pink top
    
29. Man who looks like his pet
    
30. Woman who looks like her pet
    
31. Someone with 6 toes
    
32. Someone smoking a joint beside a police office on duty.
    
33. Couple in the Senior Section of Cleveland Pride showing serious public affection.
    
34. Mistress and her slaves (yes plural)
    
35. Woman with Boa
    
36. Rupaul posing with me! (One can dream!)
    

To The Pits of Hell We Go!

I’m a fan of reality television, and always have been, but I also understand a lot about editing and what can be done with the magic of a good editor. Take a look at the following paragraph, which is Hot Toddy’s bio in his latest show:

Todd is a versatile performer and is enjoying his first show at the Triangle. Boy, is he ever! Next month he will be performing in Stark Raving Theatre’s late night show “Thrust!” Todd loves to meet audience members at the stage Door after the show and is always In Search of new friends. He works out often, hopes to become more Muscular and likes Romantic or Funny movies. He has enjoyed working with the Guys in the cast of this show for the past few weeks. He is not currently Dating anyone and would be open to having coffee or something with a cute guy but nothing More.

And with the magic of editing:

Versatile boy in search of muscular, romantic, funny guys for dating or more.

Completely different meaning…and on most reality shows, that is what a participant needs to expect. One person is going to be made into the villain; one is going to be the underdog…etc. Until Yesterday…

The WB took it too far with their show, The WB's Superstar USA. The premise of this show was to find the worst singers in the USA, each who believed they were the best, stroke their egos to make them think they were better than they really were, and make fools of them on television. Like watching a traffic accident, you couldn’t help but stare as these performers sang off key, forgot words, and attempted to dance.

The worst part of it, was that in front of a live audience, the “winner” (or worst singer) was told that she had absolutely no singing voice, and basically had no talent. Coming from a performer, we put our full selves into our work, and these poor kids were deluded into thinking that they were much better than they really were. Vocal coaches lied to them, the judges used double meanings (“I’ve never seen a performance like that”), and even the audience was in on it.

This winner had two choices upon being told what she was told. Storm off the stage, or smile graciously and accept the cash money prize. The winner did the latter, but her eyes told a different story. This girl has dreamed of being a singer most of her life, and this show shattered her fantasy and humiliated her in a public forum. Is $100,000 worth her dignity?

Since when did humiliating someone become entertainment? Where is the artistic statement behind that? Thankfully…I don’t have cable, but I really think it may be time to quit the television all together. Until then…I have some advertisers I want to write and tell off about sponsoring such a show.

$$$ Make Money Doing What I like Best? $$$

I recieved this email last night. I'm not sure if I should be flattered or what to think...except...how much will I be paid (because I'm expensive)?...and do I ever plan on running for public office? Hmmmm....

Hi there,

Ever thought about having sex of camera...or better yet being part of a hot sex orgy??? Ever wondered where you could find out more information??? or how you get an audition???

Our company will be in Ohio sponsoring an Male Model Search at one of the local bars during the month of July...and as part of our visit we are hosting a 'Filmed Sex Party Orgy' and are looking for guys are interested in participating.

We have arranged for one of our exclusive models to take on the role of hot boytoy sex pig who will be the centre of attraction for this sex party and available for whatever sexual pleasures and delights we can dream up for him...He is a hot young white boy...and he can be found on our sites home page (he is the 2nd guy from the left of your screen), and don't be fooled...even though he is straight...he is a hot bottom that loves to be used and ... (the website)XXXXXXXXX is where you can out more and see him.

The details of the Sex Party have yet to be determined as far as location...and that will be dependant on wherever we get the most responses from, but you will be paid for this event. We are targetting either Cleveland or Columbus at this point...As far as the date goes...we are anticipating either Saturday July 10th, July 17th, and / or July 24th...So, mark your calendars...

I've Been Bad...Very Bad!

Being that I am a recovering Catholic, I still have the need to confess my sins every once in a while. But instead of going to Catholic church, I attend the gay church, the hair salon. Hell hath no fury like a hairdresser. These people are your psychotherapist, priest, and advice guru and you had better tip will.

So this it the transcript of my last confession:


In the name of the Aveda, Gucci, and Master Card, Amen.
Bless me Roberto for I have sinned. It has been 6 weeks since my last haircut.
In the past 6 weeks, I have:

1. Forgotten to moisturize, therefore encouraging wrinkles to form like a roadmap, and increasing my aging process.
   
2. Skipped the gym 4 times while also having ice cream twice last week. If I continue this bad behavior I will gain weight, which as you know is the “Mortal Sin” of the gay world.
   
3. Slept with my best friend’s boyfriend twice…Well actually once as the first time we were both drunk and it didn’t count, but the second time I was sober.
   
4. I bought knock-off cologne.
   
5. I revealed my real penis size in an Internet chat room.
   

Girrrl…I’ve got a good mind to make you turn in your gay card.

1. As soon as you walked through that door I could tell that you hadn’t been moisturizing. I’m surprised you don’t have a bird’s nest on the top of your head after waiting 6 weeks for a cut, to go with those crow’s feet around your eyes. I’ll give you the number of a plastic surgeon because no amount of moisturizer is going to wet that desert!
   
2. Gaining weight? Don’t make me have to pull an intervention on your ass. Throw that ice cream shit out and get your ass to the gym ASAP! Guys to not make passes to men with fat asses!
   
3. Sweetie…your best friend is a client of mine as well, and he at least is here every 4 weeks for confession. However, you tip better, so I’ll just tell you that you were justified in sleeping with his boyfriend. Ask him what he was doing with your boyfriend a couple of months ago?
   
4. Bitch, I thought you were wearing bug spray. Put that crap where it belongs, down the toilet, or into the hands of a straight high school boy. If you continue to use it, I won’t cut your hair.
   
5. Darling…my jaw aches at the memory of your penis size, so you have nothing to be ashamed of.
   

Now for penance, you need a deep conditioning, a color treatment to cover the gray, a new attitude to go with the fierce look I’m about to give you, and you have to buy me a cocktail tonight.

Sex in the City

When did my life become a television show?

I'm sitting here this morning, wishing the day would move faster, and realizing that my life has taken some turns over the past year and suddenly I am in a Sex in the City Episode, except that my outfits cost $30 and not $300. I need a higher credit limit...*sigh*...

Life cracks me up sometimes as everybody lives a normal life, yet we all dream of the glamorous extravagance that we see on TV. Today I received an email from a college student in Nevada who has been reading this site, and wanted to ask me a few questions. He seems to have an image in his head that my life is this glamorous type, where I travel to show after show, and work a part time job on the weekdays to pay some extra bills. That I have men falling all over me (please...the only men who fall on me are the one's I trip in hopes of a date). Of course, this is far from the truth, but the more I think about this...the more it makes me question...is my life a glamorous life after all? What makes a glamorous life? Granted...I'm not wealthy, but I've been racking up frequent traveler miles from comedy shows, I'm rarely at home, I've gotten to do some wild and crazy things in the past (how many of you have jumped out of an airplane hung over?) and somehow...don't ask me how...I meet more men than a military recruiter. And it hit me...life really is what you make it. I'm enjoying my life. I've made some mistakes, some that I will be suffering from for a very long time, but I was willing to take risks. So many of us forget that living is taking risks and chances. As kids...we fell down...we got hurt...we got up and tried it again...only with a skinned knee.

So this weekend...I plan on taking a few risks. Trying something new. I'm not talking about driving the wrong way down a one way street, although if I want to live that gay cop fantasy...this might allow the opportunity. I'm not sure what it will be...but I plan on making my life as glamorous as I can and most importantly...I get to define the glamour! Look out boys...you don't have any clue what's heading at you tonight!


And for your viewing enjoyment...when a gay man notices a pretty woman...you know she has got to be hot! Click the picture to enlarge it.


Holly...the queen of wise words and inspiration!

A Pizza with Pepperoni and Sausage Please!

As I begin this posting, I can already tell this isn't going to be easy one. This posting is going to be a bit "heady" and being the whore of Babylon that I am, I tend to think one thing when I say "head".

Someday, Patrick, you or Bill will have to explain to me why a someone who is gay would marry and lead a double life. And HOW they could do that!
Brent~ Coptalk

Why would anyone live a double life? I've been thinking that I couldn't possibly answer this not having the frame of reference and then realized that even as "out" as I am, I lead a double life without even realizing it. I've become a member of the "GAY A" club, and it shocks me. How? Well, when I see a guy I work with, who I've seen at the bars, or from one of the gay sports leagues, I won't acknowledge that I know him. This is because I don't know if he is out at work, or who knows what they know. Being gay, we are the one minority (I hate using that word) group who can hide and not be found. Black, Hispanic, Asian...one look and you know who they are.

Even more so, gay people are the only group of people that are raised in the households of their oppressors. Our parents tell us of the day that we will meet someone of the opposite sex, find love, and get married. We'll then have children of our own and give our parents grandchildren. Even if our parents were to spend a lifetime telling us that being gay was ok, we still have music influences (how many love songs do you hear about same sex couples?), movies (how many gay movie icons?), advertisements, and books to tell us that heterosexual is normal. Look at the word "Straight" which defines heterosexual behavior. Straight sounds....easy, normal. The opposite is bent, crooked, broken. Who wants to be bent?

Now lets move it into the realm of high school (or hell as many gay people would call it). Most of us have now become aware of our sexual attractions, and have moved into the realm of wanting to date, but if you have been raised to believe that same sex attractions are immoral, incorrect, or just wrong, you begin to doubt yourself. In my own case, I remember reading the medical books which told me that same-sex attraction and experimentation were to be considered "a phase" that adolescent males go though. Well we all can agree that a 25 year phase is a bit much (although given the right guy...I wouldn't mind doing a little "experimenting."

It's during our school years that we are taught that we have roles to fill in life. The Go Fish touched on this in her "about me" page, discussing that she was bucking the tradition and NOT HAVING CHILDREN even though she has gotten married. Some of us, raised with higher self esteem, learn that it's ok to buck those traditions and roles that have been set for us. Before I came out, I hated myself. No doubts on that issue. I would have done anything to be straight. Some of my friends have "forced" themselves to be straight for years. They dated women, eventually married them, and had children with them. They were out to please everyone but themselves.

Think of it in this simplistic way. Let's say that you love eating pizza. Given the opportunity, you would eat pizza every day. You're family and friends are a bunch of health nuts however, and for 18 years, you have been telling them that you hate pizza, and they all believe you. You have your salad without dressing every day, exercise, eat right, but you still dream at night about pizza. Then one day...you walk by the pizza shop. The smell is intoxicating, and for the first time, you feel alive. You quickly run in, buy a slice, and eat it in two bites. Realizing what you have done, you run from the store, and promise to never do it again, except that for the first time in your life, you felt complete. You rationalize, and soon later...you are doing it again.

I know...a silly example...but it's not that far off. Leading a double life allows the closet case person to satisfy their sexual desires, while still maintaining the look of a "normal" lifestyle. Most of this is fear of losing the friends, family, and lives that they have set up. Brent...would you chance losing every friend and family member you know to tell the truth? Lies are sometimes just easier.

Sadly, these double-life guys usually find each other. Those of us who have come out and accepted ourselves...it's too hard to go back in the closet. Do you have any idea how many lies you have to tell just to make people believe you don't like pizza? Screw it...Yeah I eat pizza...daily...and I'm not alone in it. Their are the pizza eaters bowling and softball leagues, we have pizza cruises, and even a pizza parade every year in June (I provide the pepperoni). I am a proud Pizza eater!

Bill, Bo-B0, Rob, Toddy, Ryan, Shamus, Jesse, ...am I forgetting anything here?


Anyone else like to provide a bit of feedback? Anyone got a pizza cutter?

Apples to Oranges

I have no clue why this table drops down so low.

There are distinct differences between men and women, but even bigger differences between gay men and gay women.
POINT	GAY MEN	LESBIANS
WONDER WOMAN	We worshipped and wanted to be Wonder Woman. Anything to change clothes that fast.	Worshipped and wanted to do Wonder Woman. It's a lasso thing.
Greek Mythology	Ahh...well we like Greek men. Does that count?
Food	Honeydew, penne pasta, goat cheese, herbal tea, Perrier, quiche lorraine, Focaccia, radicchio	vegetarian Items...but cucumbers and carrots are not allowed!
Hair	Styling products will consist of: Wax glue, cream pomade, gel, mousse, and others as necessary. We boys are freaks about our hair.	Say no more
Settling arguments	I will scratch your eyes out!	I will kill you by ripping your head off of your shoulders.
Cars	BMW	Harley Davidson
Car Service	I get a mechanic to change the air in my tires.	I'll have it done in ten minutes.

Just a side note about the politics in the state of Ohio. Recently, a bill was introduced that would have forced insurance companies to pay for birth control if the company also paid for Viagra. This bill which is endorsed by a large number of women's rights groups, is being stalled in the state house because of the opposition. The opposition says that viagra and birth control are not similar drugs because birth control is really a form of abortion and viagra encourages conception. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THE POLITICAL REPRESENTATIVES IN THIS STATE? This being said, if this legislation was not to pass, I believe we should then pass a law that would make all masturbation illegal because masturbation does not lead to conception.

I'd like to take credit for the following piece, but this monologue was actually performed by Scott Thompson for a gay comedy show we were at. I'm using it because it cracks me up each time I see it performed, and it is that gay pride time of year.

My Advice to you!

I'd like to apologize to the gay and lesbian community for destroying our mystique. I should have just kept my mouth shut, because now we've become common. Even my mother knows what rimming is.

I liked it better before. When we lived pathetic lives in quite desperation. At least there were no freedom rings. Much like the royal family, we should never have let in the light.

It all started to go down hill during the second world war, when all those boys traipsed off to Europe and the south pacific to fall in love in foxholes and the girls stayed home Riviting Rosey! When the war ended and they returned thousands of queers knew that they weren't alone. That was the beginning of the Gay Ghetto.

Now call me old fashioned, but I just don't think queers were meant to live in ghettos. We're the raisins in raisin bran. You don't want all the raisins in one corner of the bowl.

Then came Stonewall. That's my biggest regret. When I threw that first brick, the closet door smashed and queers came streaming out like cockroaches. Now everybody wants to be queer...Except me. Now I live in the suburbs with a fat wife, and she doesn't suspect a thing. I finally feel normal. What can I say? Sneaking around and leading a double life suits me.

That's why I like Hollywood so much. Because Hollywood is the last stand of the closet. The public wants their icons heterosexual and so do I! So my advice to you, during this month of pride activities, is stay in the closet, because baby...It's cold outside. Brr.

Dancing as Fast as I Can

Ah the victory dance begins. The Flowerville Wildcats win our first two softball games. And your handy dandy gay stand up comic was on his knees for both games (as the catcher).

Game 1:
We played the Center Fielders, the majority of whom did not play last year. Why you might ask? Well last years league was full of "drama" and it left most players swearing that they wouldn't play in this league again. That being said, the team did have a few players from the prior year.

Most eventful moments of the game have to be when Fernando is playing. This man has never played baseball or softball in his life...yet he is a complete natural. It's actually scary how good he is. We had a man on 2nd, and a man on 3rd, when Fernando was at bat. He hit the ball into Right field (he bats left), and this is where he is amazing. The man on second had not yet made it to third, and Fernando was already crossing 2nd base. Fernando is FAST! I have rarely seen a person move that quickly, and most of our team is now afraid to have him running behind them as he could easily mow you over.

Game 2: Twisted Sisters
Ok...when I'm playing catcher, I talk a lot. It's part of the fun, and you put me on my knees in front of gay man after gay man and I'm gonna make comments. And of course, my comments are suggestive. My favorite was:

"Enie meany miney moan,
How many of you twist boys can I take home.
I'll tie you up, and do the things you like
and all you have to do is strike."

Funny...this actually worked.

Highlights of the game were Fernando catching a ball with his crotch (I said he was good...taking one for the team!), Bob doing a dance between first and second and still making it on base, and Lisa making the hit that brought me home and allowed us to win the game.

Post game: Beer...a formidable opponent. For some reason, everyone was very generous, buying me beers by the gallon. Now you get enough beer in me, and I will do some crazy things (like kissing the nipples of one of the twisted sister's...whichever one that was). I will never live this one down. Drunk and horny...never pretty.

Today...well my hair even hurts. I think I need to nurse this hangover a bit more and have anther cup of coffee.

I was going to write my thoughts about Regan dying...but I think I just going to let that sleeping dog lie. Some demons are better left asleep.

Incest is Best

I'm off to Philadelphia (the city of brotherly love) for a show. Now I'll admit it...I love doing comedy. What other job allows you to drink beer, make fun of yourself, and stand in second hand smoke your entire work shift. And thank God most people have not figured out how easy this job is, or it would be impossible to get work. However, it is still work, and that is the negative side of this life, in that this is still a business first and foremost.

I basically prostitute myself to the highest bidding comedy club, in hopes that I can continue to keep working. And highest bidding is NOT THAT MUCH. This means sleeping in your car, eating PB&J sandwiches twice a day, helping clean up the club after it closes, and selling anything about yourself (t-shirts and CD's are good sellers). You have to be pleasant in public at all times, as the more people you know, the more of a crowd you can draw in a club. Even when you are hurting the most, you still must put on the "happy face" and fake it.

I got a call this morning when I got to work. Apparently I am not "gay enough" (read:Lispy queen) for a local comedy show that is being held in honor of the Cleveland Pride festival. Good Lord...I've been out of the closet for 19 years. I'm not a practicing homosexual...I'm a professional. So here I am, on the phone with this show producer, trying to convince her that I can "gay it up" with the best of them, swish my way into a room, be able to remake it in 2 days with less than $1000 and still have time to drink a latte, and all the while never get my nails dirty. Then it hit me...what lows have I sunk to? Where is my self respect? I know where...with student loans over 100,000 I sold my self respect a long time ago. Now I'm selling my sheets at a flea market.

Yet it still bothered me as this producer wants the stereotypical gay up on stage. Why? Can't a regular person who happens to be gay be funny? I was originally going to post a piece that Scott Thompson (formally of Kids in the Hall) did at a show as a audio blog entry, but it suddenly didn't feel the right thing to do. Most of you don't know my speaking voice yet, and this piece is meant to be done with a very strong lisp, to show the irony. Doing that voice (and yes...I've done voice over work...so I can do it well) would give you all a preconceived thoughts about who I am...and at the same time, would perpetuate what this producer wants to see. (of course...I can hear my old agent screaming for not taking the show).

So instead, I'll just hold onto that audio post a little longer, and wait until the time is right.

Fear and Self Loathing in DC

I'm not one to judge (yeah...right), but after reading this site, all my own self loathing before coming out came back to me. It was like reading my own journal from when I was 11 years old.

A short quote:

I want to have feelings to tell somebody about someday. It ticks me off that it's first nature to so many guys -- and they don't realize what they have. This is hard to explain, what I'm feeling. Kinda like I'm trapped in a straight jacket -- like everything I want -- everything God put into me -- is just sitting there under the surface, trapped and repressed.

Then, there are the times when I lay down at night and I just picture myself laying in the arms of half-naked guy. Not having sex, but just being held. It's weird, but it's sort of like this sexual dichotomy is starting to wage war inside me. Things are happening. For the first time in my life, I'm really at a loss for words to describe what it's like.

I can't understand how any organized religion can teach followers to hold themselves in such contempt. Personally, I like that I'm gay. Being gay isn't just about what I do in bed (or anywhere else for that matter), but is also about being part of a sub-culture. Go to any city, and if you see a rainbow flag hanging outside of a bar, you know it's a gay bar. And just like all cultures, there are some facets of the culture I don't agree with (Gay Republicans make as much sense to me as Jews for Jesus), but we all have gone through that same self loathing and coming out process. I don't loath myself because of my sexuality anymore. But I came out to my mom when I was 15, and to everyone else by the age of 17. I've had nearly 20 years (boy did that make me feel old) to learn to accept this about myself. I remember believing that I could change if I really tried. The thought of it being ok to be gay was out of the question, although most of that feeling came from my father.

We are bombarded with images and expected roles on a daily basis from the time we are born. Barbie and Ken, Romeo and Juliet, Husband and Wife. Try as a gay couple to register for a gay wedding at Target and you will have problems as the software asks for a bride and groom. Our gay role models consisted of Bert and Ernie on Sesame Street (please...2 guys living together for 20 years...They've got to be gay).

Kids learn quickly that the "ultimate" insult is to call someone a "fag" or that if something they do is deemed "gay", it should be stopped. Parents and teachers do not correct them. How many of you have gone through this? How many of you know someone that has? Did you tell them it's a non-issue? When you come across someone else in this struggle...will you speak up? Sometimes, just being aware that someone accepts you for who you are is all you need to know. Those of you with kids...love them unconditionally. If your religion doesn't accept your children or causes them this much strife, maybe it's time to examine your religious beliefs.

Those of you that are straight...how many of you have attended a Gay Pride Event? One of the most amazing things I witnessed was reading the signs of the straight parade watchers saying "I LOVE MY GAY SON!", "I'M PROUD OF MY GAY NEIGHBORS", "GOD MADE YOU THE WAY YOU ARE!" or those that just offered their support. Columbus Ohio had 67,000 people show up for their pride festival last year. If we really are 10% of the population, then Ohio has a huge gay population. In actuality, a lot of our straight family and friends have come to support us. I've offered to take some straight friends in the past, and the first argument I've heard was, "what if somebody thinks I'm gay?" It's a non issue. Why should we care...but we do, and that is the conundrum. Being gay is still perceived as being dirty...or wrong. It's going to take a lot of time for that to change, and so many are still resistant to that change. Thankfully my mother was completely accepting of me, and helped me though the most difficult times.

I think I'm going to call my mom and tell her thanks.


Listing of some Pride Events that are held:
Ohio
Cleveland
Columbus

Here's a fairly decent USA directory

I'm Patrick. Who the Hell are you?

Eveyone else has done one, so I figured it was time that I relent to the peer pressure and write this list out.

100 Things about me

1. I was born in Pittsburgh in 1970.


2. My father insisted I attend Catholic school.


3. I never really believed in the Catholic faith.


4. I gave my first blowjob in the bushes in front of a church.


5. He was not a priest.


6. The guy is married to a woman now.


7. After being arrested for protesting a church, I was excommunicated.


8. I’ve haven’t been back in a Catholic Church since.


9. I don’t miss it.


10. Yet I still believe in a higher power.


11. My mantra is to treat others, as you would want to be treated.


12. It’s difficult when someone walks all over me.


13. I hate two persons in this world.


14. Nobody knows who the one person is.


15. My father is the other.


16. I’m glad he’s dead.


17. I woke up the morning he died, and knew it had happened.


18. A family member sent me a letter confirming it several days after the
    funeral.


19. I don’t know where they buried him.


20. My future plans do not include visiting his gravesite.


21. I have seriously dated only one person in my life.


22. We lived together for 6 years


23. He’s the only person I’ve ever said, “I love you” to.


24. It wasn’t the truth.


25. We aren’t a couple anymore, but still remain friends.


26. I can count on one hand those friends I would call family.


27. They are closer to me than my mother.


28. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to tell them everything about me.


29. It will take some serious dynamite to break the walls I’ve built around me.


30. I’m working on finding the right explosives.


31. I went to the University of Colorado at Boulder.


32. This is the same school that graduated Matt Stone and Trey Parker of South
    Park.


33. We used to party together.


34. My first major in college was computer science.


35. I lasted a semester before transferring to theater.


36. My audition for the theater program sucked.


37. I still was admitted, but was admitted on probation.


38. Being told I was too short to play a lead, I tried to play comic relief roles.


39. I have great comic timing.


40. My advisor told me I should quit, as I would never get professional work.


41. Two weeks later I was cast in an 18 month touring production.


42. I sent my advisor a copy of my contract and my equity card.


43. My competitive nature is a bit much at times.


44. I’ve never forgotten the names of any person who has beat me out for a part.


45. I started performing stand-up comedy in Colorado.


46. Only once have I been jeered off a stage.


47. The club owner took me to breakfast later.


48. And offered me a 6 week contract.


49. I quit comedy 7 years later for a boyfriend I thought I loved.


50. That will NEVER happen again.


51. I am an audacious flirt.


52. Others have interpreted my flirting to be serious.


53. Which has put me into a position of feeling required to “put out”.


54. I have had more sexual partners than my mother has had husbands.


55. Unfortunately my mother has married 17 times.


56. I’m not sure if this earns me the title of slut.


57. I’ve been described as insatiable.


58. Learning to say “No” has been very difficult for me in the past.


59. I’ve lived in way too many places in the world.


60. None of those places feel like home to me.


61. Florence, Italy was my favorite.


62. Cleveland is not where I plan on staying.


63. I’m not sure where I will live next.


64. I hated playing sports while growing up.


65. I now play volleyball, softball, kickball, and bowling.


66. However I wouldn’t consider myself athletic.


67. Others have disagreed.


68. I’m an exhibitionist.


69. My neighbors across the street told me so.


70. Now I close my blinds when I have "company".


71. Well…not always.


72. In reality, I am painfully shy.


73. Nobody believes me when I tell him or her that I am.


74. I’ve posed nude for artists since I was 7.


75. My mother has painted me nude at least 40 times.


76. The last time, I was 22 years old.


77. My boyfriend at the time was freaked out by it.


78. He was modeling as well.


79. My last time modeling nude did not go well.


80. I don’t think he had film in the camera.


81. With him…I said “NO!”


82. I can count on one hand the number of hours of TV I watch a week.


83. Therefore I don’t subscribe to cable or satellite TV.


84. I was taped for television stand-up comedy show once.


85. The final version that was released had cut my set for time purposes.


86. I still got paid.


87. The corporate world has laid me off 4 times.


88. All during the presidency of G.W. Bush.


89. I have never missed the opportunity of voting.


90. It is a privilege that I don’t take for granted.


91. My political beliefs have forced me to protest in the past.


92. I’ve been arrested for protesting 5 times.


93. One time I was cavity searched to “teach me a lesson.”


94. The lesson I learned was never trust the police.


95. I’ve changed that opinion after reading the blog of a cop.


96. I am a cancer survivor.


97. I was diagnosed with 8 months to live.


98. Two years later, the doctors were still surprised I was living.


99. My remission ending is something that terrifies me.


100. I try not to think about it.

What's in a name?

T	Timeless	Hopefully I can stand the test
R	Refreshing	What am I? A Soda?
A	Arty	I think I'm going to pose nude again.
V	Virtuous	In all my life...I have never been described as Virtuous.
E	Enchanting	Look into my eyes, now take off your pants.
L	Legendary	Damn right!
I	Influential	Does that include being under the influence?
N	Neat	Tell it to my house of clutter
G	Gloomy	Thus the anti-depressants
S	Sensitive	I'm gay...duh!
P	Perfect	Perfectly gloomy?
O	Overwhelming	Ok...that's true
T	Tempting	Only when bending over
L	Luscious	See above
I	Ideal	You all want to be me.
G	Gloomy	Time to take a happy pill.
H	Healthy	A fanatic about my health is more like it.
T	Tough	So don't piss me off.

Name / Username:

Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com

Lying with Dogs

This past Friday, I ran into a guy that I had met before. Previously, he had led me to believe that he was single, but on Friday, he was out with his boyfriend. It surprised me, but just confirmed something I already knew. Men lie!

Ladies, I know I am preaching to the choir here, but how can you tell a man is lying? His lips are moving. Men lie all the time, and the larger the tale, the more outrageous, the more they expect you to believe it. Well I'm here to explain once and for all why men do this. Men lie for the same reason a dog licks his balls...because he can. Men lie because they want something, be it sex, food, or the TV remote (and really...what else motivates us?). And gay men are the worst, because we incorporate that lying with what we learned from our female friends...being catty! We lie about others in hopes that you will hate them as much as we do. "oh that guy...you think he's hot?,...I guess...but he has genital warts."

Now, Could you imagine if women started lying like men?

• Well honey...the reason I didn't meet you for dinner was because...we'll see, Jennifer called, and she broke up with her boyfriend, so I had to take her out, as she was so depressed. So we went to the Roxy, and had just sat down and had our drinks served, when the lights dimmed and they started a male strip show. Now I know that you don't like me going to those shows, and I told Jennifer we had to leave right away, so I pulled out my credit card to pay, but after 20 minutes, the waitress still hadn't come around. Now I couldn't very well walk out of the place without paying, so I figured I would pay cash. I grabbed a $20 bill out of my purse, and was holding it out, asking Jennifer is she had any change, when the stripper thought I was going to tip him. So he grabbed me and started to hicky my neck, which was how I got this hicky, until I pushed him away. Now I wasn't sure he would believe me that I wasn't interested in him, so I said it was JENNIFER that I was interested in, and put my arms around her and gave her a long kiss. And while I was kissing her, the stripper walked away, and I realized that although I liked kissing Jennifer, it wasn't as good as kissing you, and I would have enjoyed it more had you been watching. Maybe another time...
  
  
• Wow...that was great honey...you are the best. I'm so glad I waited until I met you.
  
  
• Why do I have a profile online? Uhh...well you see, I was thinking wouldn't it be fun if I created a sexy alter ego profile that said I was single and looking, knowing that when you got the credit card receipt, you would find out I had a profile, look it up, and then could hit on me like the day we first met.
  
  
• I love spending time with your mother, and would love to spend valentines day at her house for dinner.
  
  
• No honey...I'm not on my period at all, so you can go down on me.