Power to the Peeps

last night, while lounging on the couch in my new apartment and enjoying the brand new cable which was hooked up earlier in the day with every movie channel known to man, i stumbled upon a documentary showtime did titled 'same sex america.' it was an hour and a half long special which followed 7 gay and lesbain couples on their quest to get married as the state of massachusetts went back and forth on this highly controversial, hot issue.

i, personally, have never really understood the concept of marriage. understood is not the right word. i mean i'm not an idiot. i understand what marriage is and why people would want to partake in a such an act. i guess i just always never felt that it was for me. especially since i come from a divorced home and have grandparents, who if you ask me, have stayed together because divorce is 'shameful.' i know one too many couples (well, couples no longer) who have ended their marriages and gotten divorced. i don't know, for me, i just have always felt that i would never partake and all of a sudden become one with someone else. or, pick the wax out of someone else's ear or clip someone else's toenails. especially when i hate doing my own. just never felt that i was the marrying kind.

as i sat and watched this documentary, i went back and forth with feelings of anger, disappointment, joy and saddness. i sat and watched as these 7 couples fought to have their love recognized. now, i have always been the type to say, 'fcuk what everyone else thinks and says. who cares?!?!?'

as we all know, the state of massachusetts has made gay marriages legal. they have taken a step forward and led the frontier with this issue. honestly, i would have expected this more from the states of new york or california. but, hey. i lived in massachusetts for 4 years. rock on mass. you make me proud.

in all fairness with issues like this, the documentary gave the viewpoints of both sides to this issue. it absolutely broke my heart to see one woman, who is a lesbian, stand on the side in favor of gay marriage while her parents stood directly across from her on the opposing side. to have your own flesh and blood stand opposite you and try to squash your rights as a human being. this brought me to two mind-shattering conclusions.

the first of those conclusions was 'WOW!!! i am so fcuking lucky to have parents who love me and would never in a trillion years turn their backs on me and discredit anyone i fell in love with.' and the second being that for me, this issue is more than just two people wanting to get married (again, something i have never been a fan of). it boils down to equality. it boils down to me being able to have the same rights and opportunities that every other person in this country is fortunate and privilaged enough to have. even if i never take advantage of them, it is nice to know they are still there if one day i choose to do so.

first of all, what gives these assholes who have been elected (george w.) the right to judge, determine and say who i can and cannot marry. who made you so high and mighty? i know it wasn't me cause i didn't vote for your cocaine-using-illiterate-ass either time. not to pin things on the main-prick-in-charge, but who gives anyone the right to judge other people? this documentary interviewed people who went as far to say that they would move out of the state of massachusetts and into the middle of the country if gay marriages were made legal. you know what, knock yourselves out. i am sure that you will not have a hard time finding a u-haul to borrow from all the lesbians now moving to massachusetts. not to mention that the rest of the closed-minded-population mostly resides in that section of the country anyway. i am sure you'll have no trouble finding a vacant spot in a backward-thinking-trailer-park. just watch out for the twisters.

people were interviewed and said that gay marriage and the legalization of it is insane. and gay people are insane. well, i am a 28-year-old mentally healthy person who holds down a full-time job, an apartment, has a credit history, attended a well-respected college and has tons of friends. i function day in and day out without the help of perscription drugs and don't have a criminal record. and oh, i am involved in the most loving, caring, respectful relationship i have ever been in before. and it happens to be with another man. a man i completely respect, would do anything for and have fallen in love with. hmmm. marriage doesn't seem so stupid when i go back and re-read what i just typed.

in all honesty, who is gay marriage hurting in the long run? recognizing love in any form that it comes in. what's the problem? people who are into beastiality and are child molestors are viewed as sane when no one knows what is really going on. but 2 men or 2 women wanting to tell everyone they love one another are considered insane. that is the more insane notion if you ask me.

now, i am not saying that the gay community is the prime example for monogomy. but, let's call a spade a spade. the heterosexual community is no prime example for great, long lasting, respected marriages either. and sure, gay marriages could fail and end in divorce. you never really know what happens between 2 people who are intimately involved. all we're asking for is that same, equal chance. the chance to succeed or fail. just like the rest of you.

And They Wonder Why

across most of the country, this past weekend was pride weekend. so, most cities have a parade, concerts and festivities to wrap up the month of june which is gay pride month. i've experienced and participated in several pride weekends in different cities across the country. and this year was no exception. if it wasn't for the boyfriend, who was up at the crack of dawn nagging me to get ready to go, i would have passed this year.

why?

because at this point in my life, festivities like that are kind of tiresome. aside from the fact that it was 98 degrees with 100% humidity. and it is festivites such as this one in which you are lucky enough to stumble upon every single stereotype out there.

let's see. there were the lesbians on motorcycles reving their engines to suppliment the fact that they do not have a penis. there were the bears all decked out in leather harnesses and pants despite the 98 degree 100% humidity weather. there were the much older guys leading the way for their much-younger-looking-for-a-sugardaddy-boyfriends. the men and women who had their shirts off when they shouldn't even be naked in the dark. the clothed older men cruising every single 20-something who crossed their path. the men who are 2 steps away from becoming women. the women who were 2 steps away from becoming men. the women who looked like they could beat the sh*t out of some of the men there. the political booths set up saying they show their support for the community to ensure your vote and forget about you once they are in office. the young gays in high school and college who seemed particularly angry this year. and of course, my favorite...the people who are nice to you to your face and curse the day you were born behind your back. that's right, every stereotype, all under on roof.

as i walked through pride yesterday, wearing a tank top (remember, it was 98 degrees with 100% humidity), holding my boyfriend's hand (i am extremely proud of him and our relationship), i thought back to my very first exposure to the gay communtiy. i was a 16-year-old high school kid working part-time in a gym. there was an older gentleman who was a member there. we spoke on a few occassions and had a friendly banter between us. one evening, we began talking. he asked if we were friends. i said 'sure' and then came the question. he asked if he gave me $100 if i would perform a certain oral duty for him. after realizing this gynocologist (talk about not being into your work) had just sexually propositioned me, i kindly refused. it was around prom time and i could have used the extra money. not to mention that i feel like i am worth much more than $100. there was no way this was going to take place. from that day on, i made it very clear that this pervert was not to come anywhere near me.

now, i knew i was gay when this incident happened. but from that moment, i vowed that i would never become that type of gay person or fall into any stereotype that reflected this older gentleman. and i think i have done a pretty good job. now, don't get me wrong. i am extremely proud of who and what i am. i have all types of friends and do not judge others by any means. i do not prance around advertising who i sleep with. yes, i go out and have a good time, but i do not do drugs or blow anyone in the bathroom stall (thank you 'queer as folk'). and i have never had an open relationship (again, thank you 'qaf'). i like to think of myself as your average 28-year-old male. who happens to have a boyfriend.

just like the family member who you never see, the neighbors who live in 'that' house or the co-worker who mysteriously climbed his or her way up the corporate ladder rather quickly, every community has someone that does not do them justice. the only thing i ask is that the world out there not base or judge everyone on a lone few.

Silenced No More

i don't want to seem like a follower, poser, copycat or person who is trailing steps behind everyone else. i have tried to remain non-judgemental, but i can keep silent no longer. tom cruise. you're a fcuking idiot. not a jerk, a fcuking idiot. there we go, it's out in the open. i feel better now.

from the very first minute i heard you were dating katie holmes i thought 'publicity stunt.' i have not given in and viewed your love-induced antics on 'oprah' or analyzed the squirting incident (which i must now say kudos to the pranksters). i did however, watch 'letterman' last night to see for myself just how much of an ass you are making of yourself. boy, you didn't disappoint one bit.

when someone over-reacts or over-exaggerates their body language, they are usually hiding something. the over-the-top-laughing an clapping of your hands not only showed how uncomfortable you are but also stalled on time for you to think of an answer. honestly, i do not care how much of a fabulous woman 'kate' is or hear the details of your planned-out-engagement story over and over again. i mean come on. first of all, she is not old enough or experienced enough in her short amount of time on this planet to be a fabulous woman. she's still a kid. and the eiffel tower thing. which one of your publicists planned that one out? i'm guessing the same one who cooked up the love that rosie o'donnell apparently has for you in the hopes of making america believe she sucks dick as opposed to licking carpet. if i were dakaota fanning at the paris premiere and you stole the spotlight out from under my 12-year-old ass, i would have outted you right there and then.

i must say tom, you're really starting to piss me off. you're not that great of an actor. you never were. and since your last few movies have flopped without the help of ms. holmes, soon to be mrs. holmes-cruise, i could see why you and your people might resort to this. a publicity stunt to overshadow the fact that you might have another hollywood flop on your hands with the potential of becoming a 'straight to video' actor. i know i am not going to go see your movie for the simple fact that you are really starting to piss me off. there are starving and sick people all over the world and all i hear about lately is how much you love someone ypu have known for 8 weeks. i have had headaches that have lasted longer than that.

and speaking of straight. come on katie. did you honestly think that becoming the latest beard would really help your career? you're little joey from 'dawson.' i always cheered for you to end up with dawson or pacey, not their fathers. in the end, you'll just look like the latest fool this closet case convinced would be the next biggest star by being his wife.

and let me tell ya one last thing. this whole 'relationship' speaks volumes for the sanctity of marriage, love and being straight. if this is the case, you could pretend to stay on that side tom cause we wouldn't want you over here. most of us are proud of who and what we are. we wouldn't want you bringing us down.

My Best Friend...

...is by far my father. since sunday is daddy's day, this entry is for him.

there is a well-known saying that says, 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' when looking at my dad and me, i have often said, 'this apple scraped the bark on the way down.' as a kid, i was always told that i was my dad's son because of the way i looked from half way down my nose up to the top of my head. i was fortunate enough to inherit his long eyelashes. the same eyelashes that a very near and dear aunt of ours used to call 'feather-dusters.' as i mature and climb up the 'ladder of age,' people tell me that i look more and more like my dad in my entire face, everyday. and thank god. i hope that i look half as good at 52 as my dad does. i have actually been told by friends that 'hey man. your dad is hot.' yeah, great. thanks for sharing.

my parents divorced when i was 6, but my father made sure that he spoke to me everyday. i saw him every weekend and he was at every school function, every cub scout meeting, every little league game, track meet and parent-teacher meeting. he would even stop by for a visit out of the blue just to check in and see how i was doing.

now don't get me wrong, we had our rough patch just like every parent does with their child. mine was when i was much younger. as a young kid, my dad was always stern about me getting good grades, acting proper and having the best manners, especially when around adults. to a little kid, that could get very boring and leaves room for some rebellion. i remember 2 specific events from my childhood. one was when my dad made me so mad (over what, who remembers?) that i came up with a rhyme which i thought was the most clever thing ever. i looked at him and said, 'stick it up your ass with suck-a-tash.' i don't remember much after the last word left my lips. and the other time was when my dad made me so mad (over what, again, who knows?) and i made this big grandstand production that i was leaving home and never coming back. i charged into my room and began packing my suitcase. there was not a coloring book or crayon to be found. i had packed it all and i was gone. this was a very short period of time in my life when my dad wasn't cool.

for a large part of my life, and even still, i have thought that my dad was cool. as i said before, he always taught me how to show respect to other people, how to be on my best behavior, how to treat others and how to make myself come off the best in crappy situations. he also taught me compassion and at the same time to have a voice in order to make sure that my opinions, beliefs and feelings were heard, shared and acknowledged. he always taught me to look at the realistic sides of situations before flying off the handle and over-reacting. step back and think about how you can get the positive out of this situation. he always supported my decisions because he knew they were what i wanted and believed in. he supported me when i switched from pre-med in college to go into communications because i enjoyed flipping through magazines and looking at the pictures and colors. even though, deep down he still wanted me to become a vet and set him up in a beach house somewhere along the coast, :)

my dad also introduced me to broadway at the ripe age of 5. he took me to see 'annie' when it premiered on b'way over 20 years ago. and i have been hooked ever since. thanks to my dad, i have been lucky enough to see some of the greatest b'way legends grace the stage in roles which have made b'way history. bebe neuwirth, glenn close, betty buckley, carol channing, bea arthur, julie andrews. even when he had an extra ticket to the tony awards 3 years ago, it was me who he asked to accompany him as opposed to bringing along a date. we could talk about b'way, music, movies, books or entertainment for hours on end.

that's another great thing about my dad. we always have something to talk about and share with one another. whether we spoke the day before or the week before, we end up chatting for hours without silence. just like talking to a very close friend.

so, thank you dad. thank you for all you have exposed me to and provided me with in my 28 years of life. i can only hope that i become half the man you are with the tons of people who love, care and respect you. thank you for being my best friend, my confidant and my dad. i love you tons.

America's Favorite Past-time

this past weekend, i was fortunate enough to attend a baseball game in which my home team played the city i am currently living in. and to make things even better, the seats in which i was able to sit were only 10 rows behind the visiting team's dugout. so, i got to see all of my favorite players up close and personal. and let me tell you, the view was more than nice. it was a great day. my hometeam won, the crowd was into it, the sun was shining, i got some color, had a few beers and had the pleasure of witnessing america's favorite past-time...bad child raising.

sitting directly in front of me, in row 9, was a family of four. a mom. a dad. a daughter. and kyle. that's right, little-i'm-way-too-fcuking-young-to-be-at-this-ballgame-kyle. let's describe each person first, shall we? first, there was mom. pasty-white skin, on the smaller side when it comes to height, average build and obviously does everything her husband tells her. dad was a middle-aged man, thinning hair with a bald spot in the back, medium height, stomach looked like he was the one who carried their two children...at the same time, and insisted on picking both his crotch and ass when he got up from his seat. i have to say that a small part of me finds it admirable for a grown man to have the dignity and balls to pick at his in front of 50,000+ people. the daughter i must say was well mannered and considering the heat of the afternoon complained little. and then there was little kyle.

kyle gets his own paragraph. and how do i know little-i'm-way-too-fcuking-young-to-be-at-this-ballgame-kyle's name you might be wondering. because his mother said it everytime the little tyke did something wrong. first, there was the time that little-i'm-way-too-fcuking-young-to-be-at-this-ballgame-kyle's mom gave him an umbrella to shade himself from the sun and proceeded to call out his name as his repeatedly hit the people in front of him with the points of the umbrella. then, there was the time in which little-i'm-way-too-fcuking-young-to-be-at-this-ballgame-kyle began crying because he felt his daddy was away for too long. soon little-i'm-way-too-fcuking-young-to-be-at-this-ballgame-kyle will grow up and get married himself and realize this is sometimes what you have to do to get away from the ones you love...leave and let them annoy total strangers. but my all time favorite was when little-i'm-way-too-fcuking-young-to-be-at-this-ballgame-kyle's mom called his name as he proclaimed that he was hot and 'was not going to stay here any longer' as he proceeded up the center aisle and to the back. i felt that i was watching 'la cage aux folles' when za za lifts off her wig, revealing she is a man and charges up the center aisle of the club while singing 'i am what i am.' a kiddie production of 'la cage' right before my eyes.

upon the return of little-i'm-way-too-fcuking-young-to-be-at-this-ballgame-kyle's dad, what does he have in his hands? 2 bags of cotton candy. great! let's give little-i'm-way-too-fcuking-young-to-be-at-this-ballgame-kyle a sugar high. never before have i attended a ballgame and encouraged the batters to hit a foul ball at the row in front of me. to my surprise, little-i'm-way-too-fcuking-young-to-be-at-this-ballgame-kyle wolfed down his cotton candy (better watch out. look at daddy. obesity can be genetic) and he crashed quickly from his sugar high. and then left in the 8th inning when their home team still trailed and all hopes of winning seemed dismal.

this, my friends, is a classic example of why i believe that children should be shipped away from the time they say their first words until they are ready to walk down the aisle. i am sure that there is a vacant island somewhere out in the pacific where we could put them all. just never reveal the exact location to michael jackson.

Let Me Count the Ways

...my roommate has managed to piss me off before she leaves.

#1. i understand that the process of moving can be messy. but, there is sh*t everywhere. come home to find things everywhere, including boxes which block my path when trying to walk from one place in the apartment to another.

#2. the need she feels to have her computer connected to the internet, occupying the only phone line we have, while she is in a completely different room packing. when i asked her to get off because a guest was on his way over, i got the response, 'can't he just call your cell phone?' i am sure he could bitch, and then what? would i beam him up to the apartment and use my special time portal machine? maybe i could try closing my eyes and twiching my nose. or crossing my arms and imagining real hard that he has entered the front door.

#3. the need to continue packing at 11 pm, throw things around, fling unpacked broken down boxes out of your way and pull at the brown pacing tape as it makes that annoying skreetching sound. i ask, what the fcuk did you do all day? i could have packed, unpacked and repacked all of your stuff by now.

#4. the need to use all of my plates, pots and utensils in the kitchen since you have packed all of yours. and not ask me.

#5. the need to use, take away and leave me with absolutely no plastic bags in order for me to pack my lunch to bring into work.

just 2 more days. count them. 1. 2.

And Then There Was One

went home last night to see boxes all over the apartment and my roommate acting all dramatic and short of breath. i figured she just had another horrible day in the horrible life of hers. our lease is up at the end of this month. she was laid off from her job and did not know what she was going to do. turns out she landed a job in another state (which i was aware of) and she is starting on monday. which means, she is leaving this weekend!!! can we say that i will have a 3-person apartment all to myself for the remainder of the month until i move myself.

do you know what this means? come sunday night, i will be lounging on the couch with nothing, i repeat nothing, between the fabric and my sweaty balls. no more having to reserve the television (which is in my name), having to guess what night i should do laundry and absolute silence when i come home after a crappy day at work. and best of all, no 4-legged fur ball in my way as i make my way stumbling down the hallway after a night out at the bar.

i was so excited that i even thought about offering to help pack. i didn't of course. i do know that the first box i would have gone for would have been just perfect for that fcuking cat. and i would have used a ton of brown tape to ensure that the box not come undone for the car trip.

adios fcuking cat! and adios my timid, 'everything in my life sucks' and i need all the lights on roommate.

Hit the Road...

...and don't ya come back no more, no more, no more, no more.

i was going to save this topic for a few weeks from now when i finally get my own apartment, but i have hit my breaking point. let me start off by saying this...roommates. they SUCK!!!i will be the first to admit that i am one of those people who just cannot live with others. i am an only child and i need my fcuking space. and do not touch my sh*t. i enjoy knowing that when i come home, i can have quiet if i want, i can walk around buck ass naked if i want and if there is any mess left behind, it is my fcuking mess. i have only ever gotten along with one roommate and that is because we were on completely opposite schedules and she was in a relationship and spent most of her time at her significant other's dwelling. i say dwelling because the significant other was by no means human.

i am currently living in an apartment which started off with 3 people and has been scaled down to two. and a cat. that fcuking cat. one roommate moved out once she decided she wanted to move in with her boyfriend. and stick us with her portion of the rent although the Cee U Next Tuesday was on the lease. well, after taking her to court and winning, she didn't get her way. well, in a way we all did. she was still gone, took her negativity with her and paid what she owed on the remainder of the lease. so help her universe if i ever, ever run into her again in public. i feel a public humiliation coming in the future. as i mentioned before, she was never really around and didn't bother me. although when she was around with her tool of a boyfriend, they were incredibly pathetic and self-absorbed. they are the couple who makes others want to puke upon being in their presence for as little as 2 minutes.

anyway, i digress. it is my roommate who was left behind who really gets under my skin. her and that fcuking cat of hers. if you couldn't tell, i am not a fan of the feline species. they are disgusting and in my opinion, the spawn of satan here on earth. i knew i'd be in for a treat when we first vacated the apartment and i was told that i couldn't put anything out on the kitchen counters 'because of the cat.' is that motherfcuker paying rent? until he does, i'll put whatever i want wherever i want. and so help him if he destroys anything of mine. i have grabbed him by the neck and hurled him down the hallway more times than i can remember. now, before someone calls the animal police on me, i do it the way mother cats carry their young in their mouths. so, that justifies it. and i love dogs. have been looking for the perfect dog who'd like a special treat which would include a 10 pound snack.

let's get back to the humans, shall we. the cat's mother. she annoys me. she is more dramatic than most, if not all, of the gay men i know. and timid to the point that she is afraid of her own shadow. she used to have the view that i had to do everything in the apartment because i am the man. well, once i told her this was not longer 1950 and to go get herself a man, that quickly changed.

to keep this short and to the point, i'll get to the points that really get under every layer of skin with me.

#1. the need for every light to be on in the apartment. doesn't matter what time of day it is, whether she is in that room or not, or if the sun is shining directly in through the windows and hitting her dead in the face. lights have to be on. i could guess every square inch of the apartment she has been in just by what lights are on. what do i do? count to 10, walk over to light and turn it off. word of advice...stop bitching when the electric bill comes and complaining that you are constantly short of cash.

#2. since being unemployed, has forgotten that she still has responsabilities in the apartment. yes, getting laid off sucks, especially in the current times we are living in. but, you are an adult and still have responsabilities. and don't give me this crap that you are now unemployed. that has nothing to do with whether or not you have the strength to unload the dishwasher, take out the garbage or bring the recyclables to the center. it is not a contest to see who can pile the garbage higher or who can fill the most bags with plastics. you did it before, what's changed?! what the fcuk you do all day?! and do not tell me that you can't afford papertowels, but have come home trashed twice and continue to purchase bottles of wine and cheap ass beer for yourself.

#3. we only have one tv connected to cable. and that is in the living room. and in my name. since when is it ok to plant your sorry, dramatic ass on my couches in front of the tv while you yak away at full volume on your phone. if you need background noise while telling your friends just how bad your life is, haul your ass into your room and put on the stereo. and that's another sub-topic. the stereo is always on, even when no one is home...for the cat. again, does he contribute to the electic bill? does he jam out to the latest nelly song when none of us are around?

#4. you think i care about things going on in your life and will support your pity party. WRONG. the less i know the better. you are so negative and it rubs off on anyone within 50 feet of you. that is why i keep my distance, keep to my room and only say 'hey' when i see you.

#5. you are extremely inconsiderate. two people occupy this space. i do not appreciate having to step over your shoes in the hallway, having to move your computer off the kitchen table so i can eat dinner chord-free or have to have my guests call my cell phone to tell me they are downstairs and can't call up to the apartment because you are online 24/7 IMing people you really can't stand.

#6. this is the last one and probably the biggest. you have never once said 'thank you' for handeling the 3rd roommate situation. i did not ask you for one single fcuking thing. no assistance with legal fees, no testamonies, not even the help of two of your uncles who are lawyers. two simple words, one syllable each. and by the way, have you realized i saved you hundreds of extra dollars now that you are unemployed? if it were up to you, you'd rather roll over, play dead and be taken advantage of.

yes, folks. 3 weeks from today, i will be on my own. with no one to yell at, be pissed at or freak out on because it will all be mine. all 620 square feet of it. i will be rid of all roommates and cats. fcuking cats.