Thursday, March 30, 2006

Crouching Tyler, Hidden Dildo

After watching the badly subtitled Slavic twink porn at work I've decided that my calling in life is to produce the world's first kung-fu theater style gay porn. Obviously it will have to be badly re-dubbed so that the bottom's mouth is flapping like Mr Ed on sweeps week for the better part of five minutes whenever he says something as simple as "Fook Mi".

There will of course have to be some sort of plot about forbidden love and ancient artifacts of unimaginable power. Of course there will be the obligatory beautiful sweeping camera shots of flying wire-fighting atop whispering bamboo that leads to flying butt sex atop said bamboo. And don't even get me started on the ninjas. I'm thinking a group of black-swathed men busting into the dojo at which point condoms (those packet edges are SHARP) end up being howitzer ed across the room like ninja stars at the hero as he deftly ducks and dodges, only to be felled at the end by his hunky protege who was secretly a double agent the entire time. Of course this will lead to a gang-bang involving clever use of the weapons training ring.

Eventually the entire plot will wrap up with a raid upon the emperor's palace, though at that point all the plot switch-backs and allegiance changes will leave the nail-biting viewers clueless as to who's side the hero is truly on. As we all know emperor is just a wacky foreign word for daddy (mmm, daddy). There may or may not be jade falcon style fisting as a political statement on the common man's struggle against tyranny, that and it helps to cater to a wide audience for higher box office gross.

In the end our beleaguered hero will emerge a wiser man, having learned much in his travels about the necessity of sacrifice, the power of true virtue, and how to find another man's prostate in under two seconds.

I have heard my calling World, and I have no choice but to obey.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Here and Now

In a nutshell, my life since coming to Portland has done nothing but head uphill. Here and now is exactly where I want to be.

I have a great job. I mean, like, a GREAT job. The pay is over-ample and some of the nicest, sweetest, and most honest folks I know come into my bar on a regular basis and let me get them drunk (taking polaroids of people's naughty bits after you've gotten them toasty might be wrong, but it's oh so much fun). On top of that my bosses are some of the best I've ever had. Though given the string of recovering alcoholics and latin-boy obsessed old men I've worked for at this point any boss who acts even remotely like a functional adult would suffice. Add to that the flimsy dress code (pants are acceptable but really not required or encouraged) and it really is a great day job to have. I'm still tuning the gay porn on seven screens out on the basis that if the folks running this country can choose what they believe exists so can I. Purely in the interests of democratic fairness mind you.

The friends I've found (and in some cases rediscovered) since getting here are exactly the sort of folks I want in my life. Gone is the two-faced constant doubt of the southerners and the endless self-aggrandizment and flakiness of the Californians. Not that my friends aren't still just as human and falable as everyone else. They're just better at picking up the pieces when the inevitable accident does happen. For the people in my life I am constantly thankful.

My to-do list is wonderfully short, though oddly tall:

-I need to find a studio where I can live and still have room to get serious about my art again.

-I'd like to find someone to cuddle with at night and run amok with in the sunlight. But who isn't looking for that these days?

Aside from that, thanks World for being what I hoped you could be. Keep up the good work and I'll do the same.

Sunday, March 19, 2006

On Leadership #23

Leadership rule #23:

"If they love you your people will follow you into the Gates of Hell. If they fear you your minions will only obey you until they think you're not paying attention."

This is why it's so important to have annual BBQ/e-parties. It really helps employee morale and can provide hours of entertainment/blackmail if you secretly film everything.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Gay Dos and Don'ts

I didn't write this, but it's still very relevent and warrants reposting. Enjoy.

Dos & Don'ts & More Don'ts for Gay Boy Refugees
by Nate Lippens

So you made it out of that backwater town in one piece. Now comes the hard part--acclimating to a new place and living an openly gay life. Soon enough you will discover which bars cater to your distorted physical ideals, that meth is very bad, and that a deep tan is ugly and pre-cancerous--but what about the other stuff? Here's a cheat sheet to save you some time and trouble.

1. You are not a strong black woman. You never will be.

2. I know it was terrible being the fag in your school/small town/own mind, but don't introduce yourself to people with this information. Being gay is, and should be, the least interesting thing about you.

3. If your mother is the greatest woman who ever lived, keep it to yourself. The holiday orphans don't want to hear it. On the flip side, your family will always be a part of you even if you never speak to them again, but try not to spend your life in reaction to them.

4. Rainbow flags, bumper stickers, and wind socks are no different than Green Bay Packers fans painting their faces green and gold: a complete embarrassment. Pride can be as ugly and warping as shame.

5. Gay life can be empty and depressing, but bitching about it outside the confines of a few close friends will get you tagged as bitter. Yes, the gay mainstream is alienating with its cookie-cutter bars, bad dance music, and Queer as Folk. It's enough to make you turn straight. But electroshock doesn't work and Jesus is a sci-fi character.

6. Don't fraternize with people who haven't come out.

7. Your masculinity has most likely been called into question. Anything you do in reaction to it will be a failure. Don't try to prove or disprove anything.

8. There is a difference between being effeminate and being a queen. Being effeminate is just that--being. Being a queen is an affectation. I can't throw a ball, but I don't call anyone "girl," even female children.

9. Avoid she-bonics: referring to each other as Girl, She, and Her. "What's her problem?" That you are an idiot. This includes: Bitchslap, Girlfriend, Shit pussy, Mangina.

10. Don't be a misogynist asshole. Leave the tuna jokes back in your small town with your usage of Jew as a verb. If it weren't for lesbians and feminism, we'd still be sucking cock in truck-stop restrooms. I mean exclusively.

11. I've never been to a bathhouse. No, really. So I can't advise you on it but I do know they are basically a petri dish of STDs. If you are okay with HIV, herpes, gonorrhea, syphilis, and other STDs, by all means fuck your brains out.

12. Do not have black-and-white photos à la Bruce Weber taken of you and your beloved. And if you must, then don't hang them up as "art" in your home.

13. Don't kiss and tell. Or fuck, suck, rim, or fist and tell. Think of your bedroom like Vegas: What happens there stays there. It will keep you from gossiping, which is the true heart of darkness, and will create a sense of mystery. Besides the cruelty of nicknaming someone Princess Tiny Meat (it would make a wonderful DJ name though), it isn't good karma. And what modestly endowed dude who sucks a mean cock is going to want to go home with you after that?

14. Bros before hos. I learned this the hard way: Do not sleep with a friend's ex-boyfriend. Ever. Even if they say they don't care, they do.

15. You are 200 times more likely to be an alcoholic than your straight counterparts.

16. Beauty fades. Develop some inner resources, otherwise when it goes, those of us with less far to fall will laugh at you. To your aging face.

17. Men, like lotto tickets, should not be had every day. The odds are the same.

18. Romantic friendships will end up being neither.

19. Cultivate friendships with straight men. "But we have nothing in common," you say? Bullshit. You are men. Many straight men are in fact softer and sweeter than their faggoty brothers.

20. Make friends with at least one dyke, you silly faggot. When the shit goes down--for instance your mother dies--fags will drop you in an instant if you aren't fun. Dykes will come to your house with food.

21. Don't make friendships based solely around how outrageous you are. It's a shitty kind of attention.

22. Don't refer to anyone as a fag hag. It's rude. Also don't hang out with fag hags.

23. Don't date people who have scars that are older than you.

24. After all of that, you are still not a strong black woman.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Dear Democratic Party

By the time you read this letter I'll be gone. I just want you to know that it isn't you. You're a very nice political party and I'm sure some day you'll make someone a very happy president. Never for a second doubt that. But the reality is that we've grown apart. We're just two different people now, and I'm hoping we can be two different adults about this.

The time has come to face facts that neither of us has been very happy these past 11 years, and I think it's time we both recognized that and went our separate ways. I hope that in time you and I can go out for drinks and reminisce about old times and older friends. I'll truly value all that I learned during our time together. Truly I will.

But honestly, you've kind of let yourself go lately. I mean, we had a great connection when we first met, but have you weighed yourself lately? Or looked in a mirror before you left the house? In truth I've found myself feeling more than a little embarrassed introducing you to my friends, and not just because you insist on wearing that heinous pony tail/goatee combo that went out of style in the early nineties. Mostly it's because you've lost your backbone. You really used to stand for things. Now all I see you doing is playing hopscotch with your cousin the Republican Party. And don't think I didn't notice you and the Green Party making out during the christmas party when you thought I was busy practicing carols with the Libertarian Party. That stung, it really did. I mean the GREEN PARTY?! Do you know how hard it was to be intimate with you without the rancid stink of patchouli ruining it for me later that night? I know I said it was the booze, but really it was the tofu stuck in your teeth that made me cut things short in bed.

And let's not even get started on your obsession with "connecting" with a younger voter. I know EXACTLY what you were doing behind the closed curtain of the voter booths with those younger guys. Did you really think I couldn't hear you? I was standing in the NEXT BOOTH for christsakes! After that I didn't even feel guilty when the Communist Party took me out for coffee, meaningless political banter and a sloppy blow job. At least he LISTENED to me.

Ultimately, you brought this on yourself. You've gotten so caught up in trying to out-do your crazy republican cousin that all you do is mirror whatever he says. If he came out as pro-puppies you'd probably start collecting anti-puppy signatures for the next ballot. When was the last time you two did anything that wasn't to spite each other? This whole codependent thing is really ruining it for both of you.

Well, I've said my piece. I hope some day you grow up enough to change the parts of you that drove me away. Because really, I still prefer your yellow-bellied whining to the gun-toting shenanigans of your cousin.



Thursday, March 02, 2006

On proper bedroom etiquette.

[A jolly conversation I had with jsb_gambit, a sexy redhead.]

[23:47] jsb_gambit: :) i could use a milkshake i think
[23:47] theaspensays: how about a malted shake
[23:48] jsb_gambit: with whipped cream?
[23:48] theaspensays: of course, why get a malted shake without whipped cream?
[23:48] theaspensays: that's like having sex with a guy and then not smacking him around afterwards for being gay

[I sometimes wonder if me being raised as a southern baptist has had negative effects on my romantic life.]