My friend Jelisa made this:
and this:
I’m totally wearing the second one to gay Pride this year. Click on the links and you can order your very own!
| Sweeeet, Heaux-Meaux, Interweb | Comments (1) |
I think I just found my favorite paragraph on the entire internet:
"Before attempting fisting, a Christian husband and wife should pray together and ask for divine guidance. The husband should ask that God guide his hand and work through him, and for the skill and patience to fist his wife correctly and maximize her pleasure. The wife should pray for openness and readiness to receive God’s love and grace in the form of her husband’s hand."
That can be found right here. It’s probably NSFW, though there’s little obscene imagery on the site.
| Sweeeet, Interweb, This I Believe, It's Not Right But It's Okay | Comments (3) |
Summer: when have i ever been worng.
Summer: except right then
Me: classic.
| Sweeeet | Comments (0) |
So I’ve decided on my Halloween costume. The title of this post is a clue. Here is another one.
Also, I’ve started my own x365 project, but I’m in two minds about whether or not to publish it here; I’m pretty sure it will cause drama of some kind, and I’m just not sure I want to deal with that. I am enjoying the hell out of writing it, though, and I look forward to working on a new one every day. So we’ll see. Feedback is welcome.
| Sweeeet, Writer | Comments (0) |
So I’ve started planning a Christmas party. You’re invited.
Last week at Target I bought a set of skull bobble-head lights to start decorating the house for Halloween. I think I’m going to spend a fair bit of today trying to find a costume. This holiday season is going to be the best ever for everyone. Do you understand me? If I have anything to do with it, and if you know me, you’re going to be so goddamn fucking merry that you won’t fricking know what to do with yourself. You got that?
The kicker: we’re giving presents that are not over-the-top or bank-breaking, and we’re not asking one another beforehand what we want and then going out and getting that exact thing. We’re going to surprise each other with unassuming presents so as not to be stressed out. Got it? We’re going to sit together, watch "24 Hours of A Christmas Story" on TNT and football, and we are goddamn well going to give thanks for one another’s company and love. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?
I am going to be annoyingly cheery. I am going to be baking like a busted Stepford Wife, and you are not going to whinge about your diet and how the holidays stress you out. You are going to come to my party and drink white hot chocolate and eat cookies and enjoy yourself. It’s going to be the best Christmas ever, because I decided today that life is just too damn short for everyone to stress about the holidays. We’re going to enjoy them, okay? And if that means not getting presents, fine - that’s just not what it’s about.
So put your fricking jingle bells on standby, kids, because I am not going to warn you again: I AM GOING TO BE UNBEARABLY JOLLY THIS CHRISTMAS SEASON AND YOU HAD BETTER BE, TOO.
‘Kay? Kay. Glad we got that all straightened up. Now, excuse me: I have to go see if that Wonder Woman costume at Target will fit me.
| Sweeeet | Comments (2) |
This weekend I did something I almost never do.
I bought clothes. For myself.
I mean - okay. I’ll order a t-shirt from Threadless now and then, like, say - say this one. But over the last year I’ve been sick, and allergic, and out of shape. And so - I haven’t been buying new clothes.
I used to live in an apartment that was something like gay central for twentysomething queers in the greater Oklahoma City area. I was working clothing retail at the time, and I got a whole lot of free clothes through my job. In fact, my wardrobe was described on many occasions as "the envy of every gay man in Oklahoma."
When I left that apartment, I had a whole lot fewer clothes and shoes and jackets and scarves than when I moved in. I have no ideas where those clothes went, though I’m guessing you’d see a few of them if you were to head out to the Copa tonight. This unfortunate fact absolutely blinds me with anger every time I go into my closet, as does the fact that, even if I hadn’t had some of my best clothes taken away by greedy, stickyfingered fags (I assume), I’m still too out of shape to wear most of them.
I’m taking care of that. I’ve lost probably an inch off my waist so far - more to come. I had three pairs of jeans that were fitting comfortably, and those were getting holes in unseemly places. So I hit the mall. I bought clothes - two pairs of jeans and two new t-shirts that I absolutely love.
Also, as I have been working out to beat the band lately, I decided I need some new shoes. The shoes I work out in now were given to me by my mother, five years ago. Five. Years. Ago. And - they have been wonderful. A bit of duct tape in the sole - yes, I am turning into my father - and wham! Good to go!
But it’s time. It’s time. So, custom-designed myself a pair of Nikes. They look like this.
I’m super-stoked about them, because I never buy these kinds of things for myself. They’re just clothes, but it’s nice.
| Sweeeet, Heaux-Meaux | Comments (0) |
So, this may have been the funniest moment of the entire night. I got to laughing so hard that I totally forgot that turning my camera sideways would make the video go sideways. But you get the gist; Ginger’s in the middle. She’s the mother of the bride, and - and well she rules. She’s been like my surrogate mommy since I was 16, and yet, I never knew she had this in her (I’m not embedding it b/c I don’t want this page to take eight years to load):
| Sweeeet, Fambly | Comments (0) |
Duuuuude.
So I’m doing this story on antique malls and vintage clothing stores for my lovely paper (ignoring the fact that two stories I pitched got handed to the new intern - but I am trying my very best to remain un-bitter).
Yesterday I was wrapping up the leg work and just about to get started writing when I wandered into one last antique mall for the day - check out what I found.
Vintage 50’s pitcher and tumblers with a woman in a polka-dot bathing suit and hat. What I love about her is that she is clearly a size 12. I love that about the 50’s.
| One Man's Junk, Sweeeet | Comments (0) |
So it’s hot, right? Effing HOT. The high today was 108; in Calumet they recorded 116. Yeah, global warming is a myth, and we should all go out and buy Hummers.
So we sat in tonight, made beer and pastrami sandwiches, and watched television. Two episodes of Veronica Mars - yeah. And then - in a fit of boredom that might have killed a tree sloth - turned on the Trinity Broadcasting Network. Where we saw….this:
(P.S., "Praise The Lord" is a lot more fun when you mute it and make up your own dialogue).
She’s coming for YOUR children if she doesn’t get a contribution in the next fifteen minutes. She actually needs a bigger cross around her neck. This one won’t ward off all the vampires that are after her at this point.
"When you’re down there you reach up and you twist the tit. Just twist it, just a little; she’ll love it."
Where are they? Liberace’s living room? Barbara Mandrell’s foyer? And what’s up with Jesus being behind bars back there?
"You should see my new baby." No, that’s really what’s she’s saying there. Jesus gave her offspring and bleachy-white teeth.
I know her. She won the drag queen pageant last year because SHE IS A MAN. MAN!! And what’s with the outfit? Is she going to direct traffic later? Is it deer season?
So after PTL was Benny Hinn. Aaah, Benny Hinn, who was banned from Oklahoma City for over a decade because a 90-something year old woman he "healed" on stage promptly got up, tried to walk away, fell, and broke her neck. He made a triumphal reentry to OKC last year.
"People of Argentina…"
Ummm, Benny - I think you puked all down your shirt there. And you’ve got a little something on your lip, just… yeah, I’m sure it’s just milk. Powdered…milk. White, powdery, Colombian milk.
After awhile we just couldn’t deal with it anymore, and so we switched over to something only a little less weird, and a whole lot less gay: Pee-Wee’s Playhouse on Adult Swim. I never realized it, but all those years of watching this show as a first-grader - it made me really crave my dad’s pancakes (which he used to make for us every Saturday morning) and twenty years later it made me see everything in a whole new light where Mr. Herman is concerned. Let’s look at the evidence:
Dude, Jomby’s about to seriously get it. Right in the face he’s gonna get it. And he’s ready; look at that beatific smile shining out from that bejeweled box where he lives. Mekka-Lekka Hi, Mekka Hiney Ho indeed, Jomby.
After Pee-Wee connects the dots (la la la la la!) he uses his new dot-sleigh to head to the North Pole, where he finds Santa standing on a street corner like a common hooker giving the "gay wave." "Hey girl! What choo want for Christmas?"
Okay, and then Pee-Wee plays pretend and goes off for a claymation trip in space, where he runs into…this…
If this doesn’t speak for himself then I am Maya Angelou.
Then Tito the Pool Boy comes over…
"Tito the Pool Boy thinks that this time, I’m going to use a condom. Tito the Pool Boy doesn’t realize that I can have INS here in five seconds flat if he doesn’t let me bareback."
Tito’s salivating for it anyway, Pee-Wee. Just go for it.
And notice that the show is TV-PG. It was pretty racy for Saturday morning.
Still, much more comforting and theologically sound than Praise The Lord.
| Sweeeet, Idiot Box | Comments (3) |
Today at lunch I just could not fight it any longer. It had haunted me for my entire life. Since childhood I have been haunted by a memory, a desire; this thing I have denied myself for so goddamn long I do not remember what it is like not to want it. And today, I indulged myself.
I bought a Happy Meal. And it was goddamn delicious.
And, I got this:
It’s a Pirates of the Caribbean do-rag. It’s far too small, and this makes me sad.
In the words of Pinky, if they called them Sad Meals, the kids wouldn’t buy them.
| Sweeeet | Comments (2) |