Asian Superhero or Bondage Betty?

This listener came to our offices..Had to share.

I know the picture is not great quality, so I'll explain. She is wearing a corset, over a t-shirt that reads "This would be more fun if I had a penis"; and she has a cape. I kinda think the flower in the hair ties it all together.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Yesterday(Sunday) was too much fun, however - the result is that I am in major pain today.

All I'm going to tell you is my friends and I started drinking Mimosas at 9:30 am, and that we continued drinking until about 10 pm last night. In the course of our debauchery, we watched a naked race, went to a few bars in the castro, and attended a sex in the city viewing party where we had bar-be-que and Pom-Comsmos. (Thanks On, was very yummy.)

However, there are a few regrets from the day:

A. I totally missed the season finale of Desperate Houswives - upsetting.

B: I got my nipples pierced.

(Cyn, I can totally hear you going "Oh My God".)

Yes - it hurt. Yes it really hurts today. And yes, it really really hurts when I have to run up and down the starts up my office 15 times a day.

I don't really regret it, I can't wait for them to heal; but damn it, someone send me some (costa rican?) vicoden STAT!

Help save a Blog

The Doc needs your help. Please go check out his blog.

Now, I'm not just saying that for fun. He is actually a fantastic writer, very witty, very insightful. He is also trying to convince his wife that blogging is a worthwhile past time - which we all know it is.

So stop by the The Doc and say "Hi" (in the south its Hayy). Maybe he'll even share his crab boil recipe with ya.

xo

Kel

What Hue are You?

I'm very very very excited to move into my new place. I ironed out (most of) the details with my new fabulous housemates last night and should be moving in around the first.

There is just one small detail..

My room needs a make over!



The room itself is big with two windows and a little nook for a desk. However, the walls are dingy white and there are no blinds, window treatments etc on the windows. Now I'm very good at decorating when I have something to work with...but I'm starting here from scratch.

I have to buy furniture, bedding, and pick out a color to paint the walls..

Help!



Robert Verdi where are you when I need you?

I'd like to start with the walls, since I can get them painted BEFORE I move in. But what color? Do I want warm and cozy? Taupe? Chocolate? Persimmon? Cranberry? Or should I go light and airy with moss or slate or stone or sky?

Do I want a boudior or a sex den or a cozy room or ultra sheik or retro or what?



Shikani its Edwina...Green Darling.

Ok, any tasteful suggestions will be greatly appreciated.

xo

Some good news

Ok, I've realized my blog is taking a negative turn again, and I don't want that. I finally have some good news to share.

I think I've found a place to live.


Shhh...don't jinx it.


I meet these three very cool guys that share a house. Not just a flat, but a real single standing, two story house. It's in a prime location, it has a huge kitchen, and it's actually affordable. Two of the guys are a couple and share a room, and one basically lives with his boyfriend across the street. I don't care, I like them. They are my kinda people.

I met with them yesterday for an interview. Let me just tell you, interviewing with roommates to move in a house is like interviewing for a reality TV show. You have to make an impression. They have to remember who you are when you leave. There are 5000 people looking for affordable housing in this city, and 6 available afforable rooms. I keep running into the same people over and over again at interviews. We eye each other like dogs, about to fight over the last soup bone. It's crazy.

In the end, if you get rejected, it's like being voted off the island. You feel dumped. Why didn't these people like you? Whats wrong? Did your breath smell? Did you seem to eager? Did the other guy imply that you might be a dork? What? It's enough to make you refill your Xanyx perscription.

At one interview I stayed for 3 hours. There were three of us, 2 straight guys and me competing over one room in this KICK ASS house. The guy that owned it was straight, a banker, and a stoner, but had a big ass tv and the house was huge and in the best location in town. Now, if you know me, you know I HATE pot. I hate the smell, I hate the taste. I hate it. But, I was willing to live with a stoner for this house.

We'll call the guys Owner, Dork, and Hottie. Owner was cool and chill, Dork was well, a dork. Hottie was Italian, also a banker, and was wearing a suit. I showed up in t-shirt and jeans. I knew I had dork beat right off the bat. He was a whiner, and you could tell was a big cry baby. Hottie and I were sizing each other up. I knew he had the advantage since he was staight and worked in the same industry as Owner. I however, was willing to do anything to live in this house.

Owner offered us all a beer. I could tell from his stocked fridge he was a big drinker (he had a bar in his house.) Dork declined (loser.) Hottie took one so I did as well. Owner SLAMED his and got another and told us to catch up. I could tell where this was going. THANK GOD I grew up in a small town where there was nothing to do but drink beer. I can drink beer all night and not get drunk, so boom - I now have the advantage. The drunken frat boy challenge was on.

Dork realized he had to have a beer and took one. By the time he finished it Hottie and I were on number 3. Owner was on beer number 5. Hottie started checking his watch. HA! He had to go somewhere, I was totally blowin off CHOX for this interview, but knew he would understand. (I really am sorry Choxie.) Two more beers later Hottie had to go. HA! In your face bud. Dork asked for another beer (damn!). I knew I had to wait him out and I'd stay all night.

By beer number 7, dork had to leave (YES!). I was pretty buzzed. Owner boy said I was pretty cool to stay and drink with him, lets go watch TV. Ok, I've been here two hours now, blown off dinner plans, and still am working this guy. I've commited for the long haul, I had to stay.

Owner starts talking about how cool Hottie is. Starts comparing us two and saying how hard it is going to be for him to make a decision. I tell him Hottie will ruin his game when he's out looking for girls. I can be his wing man. Girls love gay guys, I've got hot friends, etc. I'm throwing every angle at him to pick me. Then asks if I want to get high with him.

Let me reinterate I HATE POT. But, I was commited, so I did.

I still didn't get the fucking room.

That is what you have to go through to find a place in San Francisco, and sometimes you still lose out.

So this interview yesterday with the gay guys. I dressed up. I took wine. I was charming and sweet and brought bank statments and letters of reference. I told funny stories about Texas and offered to paint the house. I did everything but sign over a kidney to get in there.

Today they invited me to move in.



You like me, Right now, you really like me!

Yes, I have been voted on the island. Now, I just have to wait for the pesky landload to approve my application and I'll be in.

Keep you fingers crossed.

XO

I was wrong Gay men are more like 7th graders

Oy Veh!

So in light of my last post, which I thought was pretty amusing, apparently touched a raw nerve. I've received some comments, from parties not even involved in Sunday's debacle, that I'll share, but won't give said commentators identity becuase I refuse to give them any credit.

"Interesting sleight of hand there, hammy. First it starts out as a gross generalization of gay men and 8th graders, but you finish off with "Castro Queen or 8th grader?" I would think that someone who swoops into town very recently, bitches about everything (and uses racist statements in the process), then concludes that he knows everything about Castro queens in particular MIGHT, just MIGHT, been the gay man with the 8th grader mindset. Look at that, you're a Unified Theory. "

and

"You're the biggest drama queen I've been exposed to....or at least in
the top five."

and my favorite

"What you really want is for no one to question anything you say. just like every racist, you think you're not and you feel entitled to excoriate everyone else while remaining untouchable. you're a coward."

Sigh. Such Vitrol. Such Anger.

Such Pith.




Oh well, let them eat cake.

Gay Men vs. the 8th Grade

Drama : [1990s]noun. Excessive fuss over a situation

As some of you may know..my Sunday was filled with an excess of DRAMA. Without going into the gory details, lets just say that poor judgement was made by all parties and alcohol was involved.

Coiencedently, my Supervisor at work had a Drama filled Sunday with her 13 year old daughter, who is in the 8th grade and attended a school dance Saturday night. Lets compare notes shall we?

8th Grade Drama or Gay Drama?

- "But he was kissing someone else!!"

-"Slut!"

- Text messages nasty notes to sidekick all night long

- Text messages nasty notes to Blackberry all night long

- Drama spills over to friends and causes a fist fight.

- Drama spills over to friends and causes a slap fight.

- Drama continues over into next day and interrupts classes.

- Drama continues over into next day and interrupts work.

- Person being kissed against his/her will blames himself when acutally is the vicitim.

- Person being kissed against his/her will blames himself and cries.

- Asshole causing drama can't let it go and doesn't realize it is backfiring causing all parties to hate him and get him blackballed from parties.

- Bitch causing drama can't let it go and doesn't realize it is backfiring causing all parties to hate her and get her blackballed from pom squad.



So there you have it. Castro Queen or 8th Grade Princess... one in the same.

(image taken from www.Misterkitty.org. I want to give photocredit so that no one can throw a big hissy fit today.)

So i'm not the only gay in the village...

So I was interviewed today for Queer Channel Radio , which is part of 960 KQKE-AM . It will air as a part of the series for Pride, which is coming up in June. I was little nervous, but gayed it up at the end.

Speaking of uber gay - How many of you have read about
Dame Edna slappin the paprazzi ?

A friend of mine wrote "Kel, you know this is going to be you at 75..."

Whatevah...that's me already. Now hand me by big girl glasses and a martini.

A wise man once said..

"Arguing on the internet is like competing in the special olympics. Even if you win, you're still retarded..."

I love it when people send in nasty comments, but are too chicken to post their email for a reply. Seriously, go bug someone else. Dut de doo.

So I had a fun, but quick weekend. I looked at more apartments (this is going to be the story of my life for a while.)finally got my hair cut and hung out with Chox, his cousin, Daigle, and a few other freaks and friends. Choxie's cousin is way cool and way cute and I'm sure we'll be fast friends.

Sunday I moved out of my tenement - temporarly at least. I'm staying with some good friends of mine until this weekend, and then it's back to the crack house until I find a place. The house hunt is...trying. I'm stressed out about it, and I don't really have the time I need to devote to it. It's occupying all of my mental space and I can't seem to focus on anything else. I really need to find a place and soon.

On a good note... I walked up a hill yesterday that usually takes my breath away and kills my legs. You know what? It wasn't too bad. So at least I'm getting in shape. I also inspired another friend of mine to start a blog. Its nice having blog kids.

Have to run

Xo