Okay, goddamnit, I admit it! I love you, FarmVille!

Imagine starting the day wondering how many shovels your neighbors have sent you, how many coins and XP you’re going to gain, and worrying about getting to your crops to harvest them. It’s madness, I tell you! Like little Chinese girls pulling out their hair for Pokemon trading cards.

And I can’t keep up. My partner’s 8-year-old nephew is levels ahead of me, and no matter how much time I invest, I’m still behind.

I made fun of people for playing FarmVille, and now I’m all strung out on it. Crackheads.


Hey, did you hear Nathan’s new campaign tagline? “You Shouldn’t Stab People in the Eye.”

Wow, that’s catchy. There’s an idea I can support. Who would want to stab someone in the eye? It’s just wrong, I tell ya. Wrong. Let’s vote him into office because I agree with what he stands for.

Am I just stating the obvious?

Well, no, of course we shouldn’t stab people in the eye. If we did, everyone would be walking around with a patch on, like a pirate. I don’t know about you, but I just can’t deal with the stress of matching one more accessory to my outfits. It’s enough work as it is putting all this together. Plus, I know some crazy kid would start the trend of camo patches. Sigh…

So once I’m voted into office, will I end the eye stabbing epidemic that is crippling America? Probably not. People are always going to stab others in the eye, and that’s just how it goes. But eye stabbing is illegal in all 50 states, and I can brag as much as I want during my campaign speeches about how I’m going to stop eye stabbing. That doesn’t change anything, does it?

Immigration is like eye stabbing

Okay, stick with me on this. Politicians are going nuts over immigration. It’s one of the key topics in many election ads for 2010. Meanwhile our President is fighting tooth and nail to fix real problems, like unemployment and taxes. But who cares about the poor, sick, and dying? They’re probably black anyway.

The issue that really matters in America is immigration. Do you know that there are illegal immigrants scrubbing toilets to clean up the crusty, dried urine of rich, white men all over the country? They are taking over our gardening and filling up our customer service call centers! You know, basically the jobs that nobody else wants anyway.

I think we have to stop this right now! We should pass state laws to make it okay to pull over anyone we suspect may be an illegal immigrant (translation: anyone with brown skin). We should invest all of our time, attention, news, and resources into fighting the war on Mexicans! Ahem, sorry… I mean “immigration.”

So I guess this is our new distraction, huh?

Oh, how I miss the simple days when the only thing that mattered was a new photo of Britney dropping her babies on their heads. But those days are gone. It looks like the latest and greatest political distraction is illegal immigration.

I wouldn’t mind if there was actually some intelligent planning behind it. I think we can all agree that people shouldn’t live here illegally, just as I hope we’d all agree that you shouldn’t stab people in the eye. But these politicians are going on and on in their campaigns about how they’re going to put an end to it.

Yeah, right. Can you walk on water too? Look, immigration is becoming a problem because our system is very broken. Nobody wants to sit down and actually think about how to make things better. Instead, politicians just sling mud at each other and hope voters will elect them into office. But nothing is really being improved. Instead, we’re just profiling minorities and hoping it will make Americans forget about the bigger problems our country is facing.

Worst of all, this is a topic that seems to stick. Why? Because, just like eye stabbing, it’s so incredibly simple. You just make a statement, such as, “Illegal immigration is bad,” and everyone becomes your cheerleader. Of course they are going to cheer when the concept is easy to agree with.

Welcome to the next 2 years of politics. After it’s all said and done, I just hope that something about the immigration process actually gets improved.


In the gay community, it seems to be the single most important detail.

I’ll never forget the night a friend introduced me to someone as “a top.” Apparently my name, interests, profession, and all other details were secondary. I was a top, and his friend was a bottom. We were a match made in Heaven, right? Fine. Where’s the nearest chapel so we can get married?

Sarcasm aside, it’s true. We define ourselves by our sexual roles and nothing divides gay men like labels. Watch two tops find out they aren’t compatible. They will turn around and rush away like the Road Runner. Beep, beep!

Versatility is the biggest mystery of all. Is he really just a bottom who hasn’t fully embraced it yet? Is he a top who sometimes get drunk and wants a hot dog in his buns? Or his he truly a free spirit who is willing to go wherever the wind takes him? I once knew a guy who was strictly a bottom with men and (obviously) a top with women. He said he didn’t like ass but he liked taking it in the ass.

Whatever the case may be, I have to believe that everyone prefers something. I once knew a guy that said he goes through cycles, like phases of the moon. He said that during some months, the only thing he wanted was to be a top, and other times, all he could think about was bottoming.

Sexuality, even within the gay community, can be so confusing and complex. It makes me really happy to know I’m in a committed relationship once again, and no longer have to be introduced as “a top” to people. :D


This video is a joke. Have a sense of humor and enjoy. :)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCxSilOqZc4


There is so much fun to be had when you’re people watching.

Daniel and I were sitting outside a restaurant, eating sandwiches, when I noticed this woman walking up who had on a one piece dress. What’s the name? They look like nightgowns. Anyway, a strong breeze came along and pressed that dress right up against her. I could see every detail of her vagina, right down to the pubic hair, and I pointed it out to Daniel.

“Hey, look who’s rockin’ out the camel toe today!” I said to him. Then he looked over and we both had a giggle like school boys.

Just then, I looked over and saw this straight couple coming out of the restaurant. The man held the door open because he saw the woman in the “nightgown” strutting up the sidewalk. I turned to Daniel and said, “You know he’s going to check her out in front of his girlfriend, right?”

Sure enough, he did. His eyes went right for her ass and his girlfriend saw the whole thing. So then the girlfriend smacked him on the back of the head and we just burst out laughing. Daniel looked at the girlfriend and gave her the thumbs up as the boyfriend walked forward in shame.

Busted! I love watching human nature play out.



“Oh, Kathleen…”

The month of May got off to a fun start with a weekend trip to Knoxville with Daniel. I’d never been to Knoxville but it was just a 3 hour trip from Nashville and I had bought tickets to see Kathy Griffin.

We got into town in late afternoon and I drove around by the theatre she would be performing at… Located on Gay St., of all places. I could already tell we were close because it looked like a pride parade! Gay men and big ol’ burly dykes were browsing the local downtown shops and restaurants next to the theatre. I found a place to park and we walked around, enjoying the weather and looking for a place to eat.

Dinner was amazing at a place called Cafe 4 at Market Square. Everything sounded so good on the menu. We sat outside and people watched until it was time for the show. It was being filmed for Kathy’s next Bravo special, called “Kathy Griffin Does the Bible Belt.” Be sure to watch it on June 6!

Our seats were fairly decent. They were in the middle, and would have been close enough for a comedy show. But we were ambitious and wanted the front row view. So we hunted down two seats that were 6 rows from the stage, right in the center with a clear view of the microphone. Other people piled into the section, with every seat sold out. I got a little nervous, thinking at any minute, someone would show up and boot us out. But amazingly, nobody did!

Kathy was hilarious, as always. This was my third time at her show. I saw her in Nashville in 2006 and 2007. Unfortunately she skipped out 2008 and 2009, but when I found out she was going to be in Knoxville in 2010, I knew I had to go.

The cameras were very close to our seats, so maybe you’ll even see us there! I didn’t get any clear shots of Kathy because the stage lighting was so bright. But here’s one:


“With enough lube, I could take this whole thing…”


Sooo… cats don’t like water too much, do they?

It all started when I loaded up the cats to take them over to Daniel’s house. They usually travel fairly well. But on this particular night, one of my cats had a little accident on herself. As a result, she needed a bath.

Well, she just wasn’t having that. As soon as she got in the water, she turned my right arm into a scratching post and climbed up it. Yeeeouch!

Oh, but the fun didn’t stop there.

I put her back in the water, because apparently I didn’t learn my lesson the first time. Next came the razor sharp claws tearing through flesh, followed by the outpouring of blood from my hand.

But you know we still finished that bath. I’d already been torn to shreds; I sure as hell wasn’t having a cat running around with dried urine on her.

So that’s the story of my bad kitteh. :(


I’m so high above you that you look like a little ant, muhahaha!

For a very brief period, I associated with a group of wealthy 40-50-somethings in an upscale section of Nashville. It was fun for awhile, but then I found the conversation to be insufferable. They really and truly acted like something snobby out of a fictional television show.

“Dahling, did you hear about this fabulous new spa that just opened? They use dead baby seals for facials.”

“No, Mitzi, I didn’t. But have you heard about the homeless people on 5th Avenue? I attached one to a broom the other day and the oil from his hair made a fabulous conditioner for my hardwoods.”

They both cackled wildly as they dabbed the caviar off the sides of their lips.

Okay, that didn’t really happen, but you get the point. Rich, snobby, dead inside. Moving on…

The thing that really got me was their references to the high rise building they all lived in. Teeny tiny apartments condos that sold for ridiculous amounts of money. Everyone lived in a shoebox with a breathtaking view of the Nashville skyline. They even had a 10×10 “balcony” to step out on and enjoy.

Let’s say the building was called The Veranda (it wasn’t, but we’ll pretend it was). All I heard about was The Veranda. One guy actually posted a Facebook status saying, “I need to get away from The Veranda this weekend.”

What the fuck, dude?! It’s a building in Nashville. You live in a building. A stupid, overpriced building. And there is no sign on the outside! No fucking sign. I had such a hard time finding it because it’s sandwiched between other buildings and there is just one very discreet entrance to the parking garage.

So one night, I arrived, feeling very flustered at the 20 minutes I’d spent circling the block, trying to find it. I asked one of the women, “How do I know when I’m here without a sign on the building?”

Her response was simple. “Because, dahling, it’s The Veranda. You don’t need a sign, you just know when you’ve arrived.”

Whatever, bitch. I was so over that whole scene. If that’s what it means to be wealthy, I’d rather stick to being modest and happy. :)