Saturday, July 31, 2004

Company Admits Firing Man Because He Is HIV+

(Atlanta, Georgia) A Georgia auto glass company involved in a lawsuit by a former employee has admitted firing the man because he is HIV positive.

Joey Saavedra, 45, a skilled auto glass installer who has worked in the industry for nearly 27 years disclosed his HIV status during an interview for a job with Nodak Enterprises. After he was hired, Saavedra also told his direct supervisor. Three months later, after news of his HIV status made its way up to the company's leadership, Saavedra was fired--even though he did his job well and his direct supervisor wanted to keep him on staff.

Lambda Legal is representing Saavedra in his wrongful dismissal suit, filed in federal court. In its court filings, defending its actions, Nodak this week admitted firing Joey Saavedra because he has HIV.

"Nodak Enterprises has just admitted to firing our client because he has HIV, and we're committed to holding them accountable," said Greg Nevins, Senior Attorney in Lambda Legal's Southern Regional Office in Atlanta.

"There's nowhere for them to go; our client was fired out of fear and bigotry--not sound science--and that is against the law."

In his notice of dismissal the company said, "HIV status is a direct threat to the safety of is in the best interest of this Company to terminate employee at this time."

In the court papers made public today, the company admits that Saavedra "performed his job duties in a satisfactory manner" and that the termination notice "speaks for itself."

"Joey presents no risk to other employees or customers," said Jon Givner, Staff Attorney in Lambda Legal's AIDS Project. "Even with medical advances that allow many people to live longer and healthier lives, the social stigma and baseless fears about HIV still exist."

Lambda Legal's lawsuit, filed in federal court, is based on the Americans with Disabilities Act, a federal law that prohibits discrimination laws that prohibit discrimination against people with disabilities.

Nodak Enterprises operates 42 retail stores under the names Auto Glass Service and Service Auto Glass in seven southern states. The company is headquartered in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

In April Lambda settled settled a similar case on behalf of gymnast Matthew Cusick who had been fired by Cirque du Soliel. The company agreed to pay Cusick $600,000

Friday, July 30, 2004

Apparently, I Do "Do" Politics.

Following is a transcript of congressman Barney Frank's remarks Thursday evening from the podium of the Democratic National Convention:

"On behalf of the Stonewall Democratic Federation, the national organization of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered Democrats, I want to apologize to some people whose peace of mind we seem to be disturbing.

"I want to apologize to the various self-proclaimed divine messengers who appear deeply troubled by a dark plot they label the 'gay agenda.'

"Troubled as I am by the prospect of these pious men denied a good night's sleep by their need to be eternally vigilant against us, I have decided to break the silence, decode the cryptogram, unravel the mystery, and tip our hand. We have an agenda, and we hope to achieve it through the Democratic Party.

"Specifically, we want all people in the United States to enjoy the same legal rights as everyone else, unless they have forfeited them by violating the rights of others. We believe this should include some things that are, apparently, very controversial.

"They include the right to serve, fight, and even die on behalf of our country in the military; the right to earn a living by working hard and being judged wholly on the quality of our work; the right for teenagers to attend high school without being shoved, punched, or otherwise attacked; and, yes, the right to express not only love for another person but a willingness to be legally as well as morally responsible for his or her well-being.

"We also believe that we--and all Americans--should enjoy full access to health care; that strong environmental protection is fully compatible with economic prosperity. We know that the free market is the best way to generate our national wealth; and that we need cooperation between the private and public sectors to be sure that we as a society and as individuals get the maximum benefit from the wealth by the quality of all our lives.

"We are also convinced that America must not only remain the strongest nation in the world, but that our strength is magnified, not diminished, when we work with other nations and institutions for common goals.

"Some of these things are especially important to us because we are gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgendered. All are important to us as people.

"And taken together, it is why we are the national Stonewall GLBT Democratic Federation."

Thursday, July 29, 2004

Tap Dancing As Fast As I Can

Not a day goes by I don't like to be pandered to. Mama T, Mama T, fuck it.

Matt Drudge is a bad fag. -via

Clever, this. As a matter of fact the whole Wibsite I found it on has some funny bits.

The Post (and only The Post) uncovered what they deemed a "condo sex club". Here's what appears to be closer to the truth. You heve to admit, he's interesting.

My doctor/my safe sex counselor? I don't think so.

I got yer beef n' bean, right here.

Meet me at Coyote Moon. (It really does sound delightful.)

I make all this noise because fucked up shit still happens! (p.s. you stupid backwoods sister- fuckin hicks, how smart is it to off your meal ticket?)

Wednesday, July 28, 2004

Is It Scandalous If It's About Me?

'Scuse the political post. I don't normally "do" politics that much, but I've really had quite enough of George W. and his ilk thank you very much. He's turned a country that should be a leader on many fronts into a colossal joke internationally. More important, he and his administration don't have what's best for it's citizens at the forefront of their decisions. All they care about is money. How to keep what they have and make more of it. When profit is your motivation, the people that you have to abuse to make that profit become a secondary consideration at best.

Now bring on the ass-fucking!

Last night. AT WORK! (scandalous!) I see a nice looking semi-drunk very aggressive man around my age all up in the grill of some young twinky Asian/Latino boy. Boy is way out of his league and doesn't even know how to extricate himself from aggressive man's advances so he sits uncomfortably as aggressive man paws at his neck and squeezes his shoulders all the while feeding him an obviously standard set of lines about how open he is to sex and asking for what he wants blah blah blah. Neo has been talking/flirting with boy and sees his distress so he puts his hand on boy's arm and makes some joke about how they're dating and aggressive man is making "them" uncomfortable. I monitor the situation just to make sure aggressive man doesn't take offense and when I'm sure that all is well I move on. Later on I spot aggressive man walking around and I ask Neo if he's OK or just kind of weird. Neo points out that aggressive man is with a "boyfriend" who's within earshot. He reminds me that they have been in before and recounts the story of how they both separately tried to slip Neo their phone numbers. I remember that night completely. The "boyfriend" even stayed behind and flirted with Neo outrageously. This was during the time when my feelings for Neo had crossed over to where I thought I was in love with him so I remember even though nothing happened and I truly couldn't picture Neo getting together with the "boyfriend" I was wildly jealous. I remembered that they were from out of town and come to New York a couple times a year and always stop in to my place.

Flash forward a good hour. I'm in the vestibule in front killing some time saying hello to people at the front door. Also, I'm monitoring some new hookers that showed up over the weekend. 3 in total and they were young and tan and two out of the three were almost impossibly pretty. Usually, this means they're in from out of town. Miami most likely or maybe LA. They ain't local talent for sure. I am amazed at how fast they find work the first night. Literally a half-hour from when they'd arrived and two of them are out the door with tricks. Fresh meat indeed. In any case who should wander up but aggressive man. He shoots the shit a bit and I smile and laugh even though it's not funny. He tells me I have a nice smile and I thank him. He moves in closer to offer me his hand and his name. Do I remember it? Must you ask? Besides any chance I would remember his name are knocked down by the fact that he has been feeding on our bar snacks. Currently a mix of hot salty spicy sticks and sugary squares and peanuts. It's delicious and addictive and gives you the most heinous breath imaginable. So his attempted pass at me was marred by the fact that I had to hold my breath as he got closer. He complimented me again I said thanks again and he moved away.

Jump ahead more and the night is winding down. The back bar is closed, I've set the alarm down the street, everything up till now that can be counted has been, so I'm now enjoying a cocktail and hanging out at the front bar. There's a smattering of people left that are flitting back and forth across the street (another gay bar) as well as off duty employees. I'm with Neo when aggressive man comes over. He talks to Neo for a bit then to me than gets this look on his face and puts an arm around me. Neo says something about pulling him away and gets up from the bar and starts to walk away. Neo turns to me and makes some crack about me looking like "a deer in the headlights." I find it a curious remark as I am feeling two things at the time: supreme confidence and profound horniness.

"What do you mean deer in the headlights? He's the one who's in danger here."

Neo laughs. And I've lit a fire under aggressive man.

"I'm in danger am I?"

"Did I stutter?"

"I just wanted to make sure I heard you right."

"You did."

With that aggressive man starts rubbing my shoulders and sqeezing my arms. Then he sort of covers my mouth and shoves part of his hand into my mouth and rubs it against my face. It's a classic porn move I know he's seen on a tape at some point. It's kind of hot but I think he uses it too soon. I just look at him as if to say "I'm not impressed. What else?" More rubbing and more of the palm over/in mouth stuff. So I bit him. Not in a nasty I want to hurt you way. In a you put things in my mouth I bite them way. He let out a little moan and I knew I had him. He kissed my neck and then he had me. By now we had the whole side of the bar to ourselves so when he started reaching down to my ass and then pulling my shirt un-tucked I decided to let him. He finally managed to find skin and then slowly worked his way down the crack of my ass till he found my hole. I felt him press a finger to my hole and wiggle it around a bit. He worked his hand free and then looked me right in the eyes.

"Taste it" I said.

He did. And then put his wet fingers in my mouth. I sucked them in.


"You are a pig, aren't you?"

"Is that a complaint?" I said.

"Oh no, baby I like you."

With that, he moved in to kiss me.

"Not in front of the kids" I protested.


"I can't. Not out here like this."

And then I did let him kiss me, at least a little. Ok more than a little. But I was intensely uncomfortable as in spite of all this I hadn't quite made a spectacle of myself yet. So it was a few back and forth stolen kisses with a lot of tongue and every time he got too heavy I backed him away. I wasn't sure where this was going or rather how far I planned on letting it go until he stopped to take a swig of my drink. Then he leaned over immediately to kiss me. And spit it back into my mouth. We were gonna fuck. And I was totally boned up. A fact he realized as he brushed the front of my pants. He immediately jammed a hand down the front of my pants when he realized there was a prize inside. He grabbed my cock.

"Oh man."

"You need to come with me," I said.


"Someplace more private."

"O.K. I follow you." Did I mention he was Latin? Did I even have to bother?

As I saw it, I had two choices. The liquor room or my office. The liquor room would have been infinitely more spacious but I had seen Neo go downstairs and while I wasn't feeling the least little embarrassed about my escapade I didn't want to have to run past him nor did I want to have everyone from upstairs run downstairs as my bar gets robbed while I'm in the basement fucking. Besides, there was something truly tawdry about my office. And this was a truly tawdry moment. So I opened my office and let him in and then spun around and planted the hottest wettest most aggressive kiss I could plant on this man. All the while pressing myself and my hard cock into him. He started moaning and groaning and I put my hands around his neck and squeezed a little and then I grabbed a handful of his ass. He started fumbling for my belt while simultaneously pulling down his trackpants. He finally managed to work my cock free and we kissed some more while jerking each other off. Unfortunately, I think he may have drank too much to get totally hard but he was a respectable 6+ uncut inches. I on the other hand was totally hard and he hurriedly sucked my cock.

"Fuck, yeah."

"Nice cock."

"Suck it, yeah."

I let him work me for a while as he sucked me like a champion. It felt great but I wanted to get some meat of my own. After a few minutes I pulled him off me and lifted his shirt up. He wasn't buff but he was slim with a little beer gut and nicely shaved in the places that matter. He was half hard and I wanted to see if I could get him all the way. I was thinking about getting fucked. It's been far too long. I have to admit, I'm sorely lacking in experience with uncut men. I mean, I know what to do in general but I'm far from a foreskin aficionado. Still, either he liked what I was doing or he's just a moaner but I seemed to do allright although again, not totally hard. I stood up to kiss him again and more jerking off. Then he turned around and grabbed a handful of wall. I moved up behind him as aggressive man tried to shove my cock in. I pulled away and then figured what the hell. It's there. It's butt. Let me eat some. So I started kissing and biting his butt starting at the yin/yang tattoo in the small of his back and working down to his hole. His moaning told me what I needed to know. He had a great butt and a hot hole that was just dank enough without crossing over into dirty and I made a pig of myself. I stood up again and again he tried to shove my cock in him. Now I wanted to fuck.


I reached in to my knapsack knowing full well there's always condoms and lube in there. A lady is always prepared. I tear open a rubber and pop it on and lube it up a bit and then add spit for good measure. He takes my entire cock all at once. To my credit, he does groan once it's all the way in. His ass feels fucking great as he starts to ride me all by himself. I pull him all the way on me and hold him there so he can get that filled feeling. Then I start to fuck him. Fucking great. Really great. Then I catch our reflection in the mirror, both partly clothed, him moaning, my cock up his ass, my face furrowed. It's filthy, the exhibitionist in me is getting off too. I won't last long. I pull out and pull off the condom. Again he goes right back to sucking me.

"Fuck man, I'm gonna cum."

He responds by sucking harder. He wants it. I oblige. He swallows. And he doesn't stop till he gets it all. It's fucking hot. He finally pulls off my dick and looks up at me, panting. I bend over and jam my tongue down his throat. I can taste my own cum. He doesn't seem to be interested in shooting a load himself or I would be happy to assist him. He seems happy trading kisses and biting nipples which I go along with until I give the universal ass slap "we're done" signal. He gets it and pulls his pants back on.

"I have to shut down the bar."

I think he was looking for a more to come invite but please, I was horny and fucked a horny drunk guy who's name I can't remember. He knew it too. We played a little grab ass out on the floor and in the back bar and then he finally picked up his bag and kissed me good night and told me what a hot man I am. And who doesn't want to hear that from time to time?

Tuesday, July 27, 2004

Text of Former President Clinton's Speech

Associated Press

The text of former President Clinton's speech Monday at the Democratic National Convention, as transcribed by e-Media, Inc.:

CLINTON: Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored to be here with you.

I am honored to share this podium with my senator, Hillary Rodham Clinton. And I want to thank the people of New York for giving the best public servant in my family a chance to continue serving the public. Thank you. I am also - I'm going to say that again, in case you didn't hear it.

I'm honored to be here tonight. And I want to thank the people of New York for giving Hillary the chance to continue to serve in public life.

I am very proud of her. And we are both very grateful to all of you, especially my good friends from Arkansas, for giving me the chance to serve in the White House for eight years.

I am honored to share this night with President Carter, for whom I worked in 1976 and who has inspired the world with his work for peace, democracy and human rights.

I am honored to share it with Al Gore, my friend and my partner for eight years, who played such a large role in building the prosperity and peace that we left America in 2000.

And Al Gore, as he showed again tonight, demonstrated incredible patriotism and grace under pressure. He is the living embodiment of the principle that every vote counts.

And this year, we're going to make sure they're all counted in every state in America. My friends, after three conventions as a candidate or a president, tonight I come to you as a citizen, returning to the role that I have played for most of my life, as a foot soldier in our fight for the future, as we nominate in Boston a true New England Patriot for president.

Now this state, who gave us in other times of challenge John Adams and John Kennedy, has given us John Kerry, a good man, a great senator, a visionary leader. And we are all here to do what we can to make him the next president of the United States.

My friends, we are constantly being told that America is deeply divided. But all Americans value freedom and faith and family. We all honor the service and sacrifice of our men and women in uniform, in Iraq, Afghanistan and throughout the world.

We all want good jobs, good schools, health care, safe streets, a clean environment. We all want our children to grow up in a secure America leading the world toward a peaceful and prosperous future.

Our differences are in how we can best achieve these things in a time of unprecedented change. Therefore, we Democrats will bring to the American people this year a positive campaign, arguing not who is a good or a bad person, but what is the best way to build a safe and prosperous world our children deserve.

The 21st century is marked by serious security threats, serious economic challenges and serious problems, from AIDS to global warming to the continuing turmoil in the Middle East.

But it is also full of amazing opportunities to create millions of new jobs and clean energy and biotechnology, to restore our manufacturing base and reap the benefits of the global economy, through our diversity and our commitment to decent labor and environmental standards for people all across the world and to create a world where we can celebrate our religious, our racial, our ethnic, our tribal differences because our common humanity matters most of all.

To build that kind of world, we must make the right choices. And we must have a president who will lead the way. Democrats and Republicans have very different and deeply felt ideas about what choices we should make. They're rooted in fundamentally different views of how we should meet our common challenges at home, and how we should play our role in the world.

We Democrats want to build a world and an America of shared responsibilities and shared benefits. We want a world with more global cooperation where we act alone only when we absolutely have to.

We think the role of government should be to give people the tools to create the conditions to make the most of their own lives. And we think everybody should have that chance.

On the other hand, the Republicans in Washington believe that America should be run by the right people - their people - in a world in which America acts unilaterally when we can and cooperates when we have to.

They believe the role of government is to concentrate wealth and power in the hands of those who embrace their economic, political and social views, leaving ordinary citizens to fend for themselves on important matters like health care and retirement security.

Now, since most Americans aren't that far to the right, our friends have to portray us Democrats as simply unacceptable, lacking in strength and values. In other words, they need a divided America.

But we don't.

Americans long to be united. After 9/11, we all just wanted to be one nation. Not a single American on September the 12th, 2001, cared who won the next presidential election.

All we wanted to do was to be one country, strong in the fight against terror, helping to heal those who were wounded and the families of those who lost their loved ones, reaching out to the rest of the world so we could meet these new challenges and go on with our democratic way of life.

The president had an amazing opportunity to bring the country together under his slogan of compassionate conservatism and to unite the world in the struggle against terror.

Instead, he and his congressional allies made a very different choice. They chose to use that moment of unity to try to push the country too far to the right and to walk away from our allies, not only in attacking Iraq before the weapons inspectors had finished their work, but in withdrawing American support for the climate change treaty and for the international court on war criminals and for the anti-ballistic missile treaty and from the nuclear test ban treaty.

Now, now at a time when we're trying to get other people to give up nuclear and biological and chemical weapons, they are trying to develop two new nuclear weapons which they say we might use first.

At home, the president and the Republican Congress have made equally fateful choices, which they also deeply believe in.

For the first time when America was in a war footing in our whole history, they gave two huge tax cuts, nearly half of which went to the top 1 percent of us.

Now, I'm in that group for the first time in my life.

And you might remember that when I was in office, on occasion, the Republicans were kind of mean to me.

But as soon as I got out and made money, I became part of the most important group in the world to them. It was amazing. I never thought I'd be so well cared for by the president and the Republicans in Congress. I almost sent them a thank you note for my tax cuts until I realized that the rest of you were paying the bill for it. And then I thought better of it.

Now look at the choices they made, choices they believed in. They chose to protect my tax cut at all costs while withholding promised funding to the Leave No Child Behind Act, leaving 2.1 million children behind.

They chose to protect my tax cut, while cutting 140,000 unemployed workers out of their job training programs, 100,000 working families out of their child care assistance, and worst of all, while cutting 300,000 poor children out of their after-school programs when we know it keeps them off the streets, out of trouble, in school, learning, going to college and having a good life.

They chose - they chose to protect my tax cuts while dramatically raising the out-of-pocket costs of health care to our veterans and while weakening or reversing very important environmental measures that Al Gore and I put into place, everything from clean air to the protection of our forests.

Now, in this time, everyone in America had to sacrifice except the wealthiest Americans. And most of us, almost all of us, from Republicans to independents and Democrats, we wanted to be asked to do our part, too. But all they asked us to do was to expend the energy necessary to open the envelopes containing our tax cuts. Now, if you like these choices and you agree with them, you should vote to return them to the White House and the Congress. If not, take a look at John Kerry, John Edwards and the Democrats. We've got a different economic policy.

In this year's budget, the White House this year wants to cut off all the federal funding for 88,000 uniformed police officers under the COPS program we've had for 10 years. Among those 88,000 police are more than 700 members of the New York Police Department who put their lives on the line on 9/11.

With gang violence rising, and with all of us looking for terrorists in our midst and hoping they're not too well armed or too dangerous, the president and the Congress are about to allow the 10- year-old ban on deadly assault weapons to lapse.

Now, they believe it's the right thing to do. But our policy was to put more police on the street and to take assault weapons off the street. And it gave you eight years of declining crime and eight years of declining violence. Their policy is the reverse. They're taking police off the streets while they put assault weapons back on the street.

Now, if you agree with that choice, by all means, vote to keep them in office. But if you don't, join John Kerry, John Edwards and the Democrats in making America safer, smarter and stronger again.

On homeland security, Democrats tried to double the number of containers at ports and airports checked for weapons of mass destruction. It cost $1 billion. It would have been paid for under our bill by asking the 200,000 millionaires in America to cut their tax cut by $5,000. Almost all 200,000 of us would like to have done that, to spend $5,000 to make all 300 million Americans safer.

The measure failed. Why? Because the White House and the Republican leadership in the House of Representatives opposed it. They thought our $5,000 was more important than doubling the container checks at our ports and airports.

If you agree with that, by all means, re-elect them. If not, John Kerry and John Edwards are your team for the future.

These policies have turned a projected $5.8 trillion surplus that we left, enough to pay for the baby boomer retirement, into a projected debt of almost $5 trillion, with over $400 billion in deficit this year and for years to come.

Now, how do they pay for that deficit? First, by taking the Social Security surplus that comes in every month and endorsing the checks of working people over to me to pay for the tax cuts. But it's not enough.

So then they have to go borrow money. Most of it they borrow from the Chinese and the Japanese government.

Sure, these countries are competing with us for good jobs, but how can we enforce our trade laws against our bankers? I mean, come on.

So if you think - if you believe it is good policy - if you believe it is good policy to pay for my tax cuts with the Social Security checks of working men and women and borrowed money from China and Japan, you should vote for them. If not, John Kerry's your man.

We Americans must choose for president...

... we've got to choose for president between two strong men who both love their countries, but who have very different world views: our nominee, John Kerry, who favors shared responsibility, shared opportunity and more global cooperation; and their president and their party in Congress who favor concentrated wealth and power, leaving people to fend for themselves and more unilateral action.

I think we're right for two reasons.

First of all, America just works better when more people have a chance to live their dreams.

And, secondly, we live in an interdependent world in which we cannot possibly kill, jail or occupy all of our potential adversaries. So we have to both fight terror and build a world with more partners and fewer terrorists.

Now, we tried it their way for 12 years. We tried it their way for 12 years. We tried it our way for eight years. Then we tried it their way for four more. But the only test that matters is whether people were better off when we finished than when we started. Our way works better.

It produced over 22 million good jobs, rising incomes for the middle class, over 100 times as many people moved from poverty into the middle class, more health care, the largest increase in college aid in 50 years, record home ownership, a cleaner environment, three surpluses in a row, a modernized defense force, strong efforts against terror and a respected America in the world. More importantly, more importantly we have great new champions in John Kerry and John Edwards, two good men, with wonderful wives: Teresa, a generous and wise woman, who understands the world we're trying to shape; and Elizabeth, a lawyer and mother, who understands the lives we're trying to live.

Now, let me tell you know what I know about John Kerry. I've been seeing all of the Republican ads about him. Let me tell you what I know about him.

During the Vietnam War, many young men, including the current president, the vice president and me, could have gone to Vietnam and didn't. John Kerry came from a privileged background. He could have avoided going too, but instead, he said: Send me.

When they sent those swiftboats up the river in Vietnam and they told them their job was to draw hostile fire, to wave the American flag and bate the enemy to come out and fight, John Kerry said: Send me.

And then, on my watch, when it was time to heal the wounds of war and normalize relations with Vietnam and to demand an accounting of the POWs and MIAs we lost there, John Kerry said: Send me.

Then when we needed someone to push the cause of inner-city children struggling to avoid a life of crime or to bring the benefits of high technology to ordinary Americans or to clean the environment in a way that created new jobs, or to give small businesses a better chance to make it, John Kerry said: Send me.

So tonight, my friends, I ask you to join me for the next 100 days in telling John Kerry's story and promoting his ideas. Let every person in this hall and like-minded people all across our land say to him what he has always said to America: Send me.

The bravery that men who fought by his side in battle, that bravery they saw in battle, I have seen in politics. When I was president, John Kerry showed courage and conviction on crime, on welfare reform, on balancing the budget, at a time when those priorities were not exactly the way to win a popularity contest in our party.

John Kerry took tough positions on tough problems. He knows who he is and where he's going. He has the experience, the character, the ideas, the values to be a great president.

And in a time of change, he has two other very important qualities: an insatiable curiosity to understand the world around him, and a willingness to hear other views, even those who disagree with him. Therefore...

Therefore, John Kerry will make choices that reflect both conviction and common sense. He proved that when he picked John Edwards to be his partner.

Now, everybody talks about John Edwards' energy and intellect and charisma. You know, I kind of resent him.

But the important thing is not what talents he has, but how he has used them. He chose - he chose to use his talents to improve the lives of people like him who had to work for everything they've got and to help people too often left out and left behind. And that's what he'll do as our vice president.

Now their opponents will tell you...

Their opponents will tell you we should be afraid of John Kerry and John Edwards, because they won't stand up to the terrorists. Don't you believe it. Strength and wisdom are not opposing values.

They go hand in hand.

They go hand in hand, and John Kerry has both. His first priority will be to keep America safe.

Remember the scripture: Be not afraid.

John Kerry and John Edwards are good people with good ideas, ideas to make the economy work again for middle-class Americans, to restore fiscal responsibility, to save Social Security, to make health care more affordable, college more available, to free us from dependence on foreign oil and create new jobs with clean energy and a cleaner environment...

... to rally the world to our side in the war against terror and to make a world with more friends and less terror.

My friends, at every turning point in our history, we, the people, have chosen unity over division, heeding our founders' call to America's eternal mission to form a more perfect union, to widen the circle of opportunity deep in the reach of freedom and strengthen the bonds of our community. It happened every time, because we made the right choices.

In the early days of the republic, America was divided and at a crossroads, much as it is today, deeply divided over whether or not to build a real nation with a national economy and a national legal system. We chose to build a more perfect union.

In the Civil War, America was at another crossroads, deeply divided over whether to save the union and end slavery. We chose a more perfect union.

In the 1960s, when I was a young man, we were divided again over civil rights and women's rights. And again we chose to form a more perfect union.

As I said in 1992, I say again tonight, we are all in this together. We have an obligation, both to work hard and to help our fellow citizens, an obligation both to fight terror and to build a world with more cooperation and less terror.

Now, again, it is time to choose. Since we're all in the same boat, we should choose a captain of our ship who is a brave good man, who knows how to steer a vessel through troubled waters, to the calm seas and the clear sides of our more perfect union. That is our mission.

So let us go in tonight and say to America in a loud, clear voice: Send John Kerry.

God bless you.

Monday, July 26, 2004

White Cheese Head

My opinion of Fahrenheit 9/11. It just came from someone else's mouth.

I had a tech meltdown over the weekend. My ability to blog is severly curtailed for now. Pity, as I have lots to say. If it's important we'll get to it my pretties.

Thursday, July 22, 2004


I awoke with a plan. I was to help The Hellcat get the last of his paperwork in so we could get the details of his housing in order. For reasons that can't be told here, we had to go to Kinko's and *ahem* adjust some of the information to more advantageous (for us) details. Sort of like adding a couple of zeroes to a check before cashing it. It was surprisingly easy but considering we got (another) late start, plans to get some sun had to be scrapped and besides, the previously forecast sunny and warm day showed up partly cloudy and muggy. We did some light shopping and then decided to find a place for a beer and/or margarita as we had finally managed to negotiate a labyrinthian government maze and had emerged (seemingly) victorious at our piece of cheese. After a series of false starts and a failed attempt at finding that new gay bar XES, we ended up at a dive on 3rd below 14th street that has had a series of incarnations over the years but has basically served a succession of fireman and phone company workers as well as nearby NYU students. It smelled like piss. I didn't mind. A quick pint glass of margarita and we were headed home. It was approaching 5pm already. (I said we got a late start.) It wasn't until we got all the way upstairs that The Hellcat remembered he needed dog food. You know I couldn't stop myself.

"Do they sell it downstairs?" Meaning the 24 hr. deli on the next block.


"How much is it?"

"A dollar."

"What kind?"

"Pedigree, beef chunks."

"I'll get it."

"You sure?"

The Hellcat had an hour to shit, shower and shave before a platonic date for dinner and Shakespeare in the Park.

"I'll be right back."

Not entirely true. Apparently, when I said downstairs I meant the all-purpose deli. The Hellcat's definition of downstairs apparently means anywhere not upstairs, or in this case The Gristede's 3 blocks and one avenue away. I swear, this man will be the death of me. I returned to a soothing glass of red wine, followed by another margarita. We were both feeling quite relaxed.

That's when Neo called. I had heard from him the day before as he left a message about a bad experience in a Jersey park and some nasty cops. Neo had been relaxing in a public park reading a book, and if you knew Neo it's probably true, he loves the outdoors and always has his nose in some book on spells or psychology. The police passed him on more than one occasion, as it appears he was behaving suspiciously, what with the reading and all. And most assuredly not because a Puerto Rican man covered in tattoos was parked in a public area. The reading thing? Come on, a Puerto Rican? You can see why our most assuredly not bigoted police investigation had begun. Why they searched him and his car. Why they ran him for warrants. (none) Why they accused him of having drugs. (none) This was all related by message over the phone with Neo sounding angry and sad at the same time. I left a message back how sorry I was and offering to get together the next night (yesterday) if he wanted to catch a movie or go for coffee or whatever. And now he had spent the afternoon trying to file a complaint with the police department, all to no avail, as the desk sargeant set about defending the cops as "just doing their jobs" and further verbally abusing Neo as a liar. Needless to say I attempted to return to sobriety as fast as possible, since I agreed to let Neo pick me up.

He arrived a half hour later and called me down, with The Hellcat heading out the door a minute ahead of me, but a solid half hour from when he should have been leaving. I hopped into Neo's deathmobile and off we went. Headed to Jersey. Neo had asked me previously if he could pick the place for dinner (how cute is that?) and me being the food. good. eat. person I am I said sure. I wasn't even sure where in Jersey we ended up. Some tiny little row of businesses with a nail salon, a liquor store etc. and a restaurant that obviously used to be someone's house. Now serving Cuban/American specialties. A menu heavy on chicken and chorizo so it's all good as far as I'm concerned. We had a deep disussion about my parents and my relationship with them. Then we moved onto Neo's experiences with racism and classism. It's an ongoing discussion about which I feel some ambivilance. It's hard for me to articulate. My relationship with Neo runs so deep that I no longer see the tattoos as "saying" anything. I certainly don't look at Neo and see Puerto Rican. But I never did think of him like that. There was never any point in my relationship with Neo where his backround was even subtext for me. Neo was always just Neo. But logically, if I even take a baby step back, his heritage is a consideration for others. A body covered in tattoos does "say" something to some people. While I only see Neo and Neo feels he shouldn't be judged, people do make evaluations based on what they see. It's fast, it's easy, it's simple. People with tattoos smoke pot. Peurto Ricans sell drugs. Why get to know the real story? And I'm torn between my sympathy for Neo and what he experiences versus my belief that you cannot opt to present yourself as outside the mainstream, and then cry foul when the general (lazy) public reacts in a manner you deem unfair. Of course it's unfair. This is America.

Dinner completed with nothing solved Neo wanted to take me to this ice cream shop he goes to. It was just down the street from the restaurant. It was the strangest place. When I think of an ice cream shop I think bright colors and lots of white tile, wrought iron furniture with marble tables. This place was white plaster simulating cave walls and private grottos carved out with seating. Some of the walls had naked body parts (mostly tits and ass) protruding from them. And it was the darkest ice cream shop I've ever been in. Most of the lighting was provided by candlelight. And people were smoking inside. A sure sign I was out of Manhattan. Neo got some ice cream and hot fudge and I opted for a mocha cappa something or other with espresso and vanilla ice cream. I was hoping the caffeine and sugar would keep me going. It was then that Neo informed me that after the movie we had planned on going to he was kidnapping me (I wish) to Feather's, a legendary Jersey gay bar I had heretofore only heard about when referenced with their Monday night dollar drink night. It was around 9 pm by now. I still hadn't showered all day. Neo claimed that's a great time to meet guys. I have some very strange men in my life. We gabbed some more and unfortunately the caffeine and sugar had no effect on me. If anything I was getting more and more tired. The service was unbelievably slow. Nice, but really slow. We paid the check and headed out in to the wilds of New Jersey. We were running late, the movie was in 10 minutes and Neo was being nagged by phone to hurry by his "boyfriend". So there we were hurtling at white-knuckle speeds through these winding Jersey two lane roads in Neo's deathmobile. I have no real night vision so how Neo was able to navigate the roads was beyond me. It's possible it was also some horrid combination of alcohol followed by caffeine and sugar plus the creatine shake I let the Hellcat whip up for me the afternoon before. Something was terribly off inside my body and by the time we arrived at the theater I was literally shaking, sweating and just feeling like I needed oxygen. It was like a mini panic attack, but not. Neo noticed and asked if I was OK. I said I was fine and we arrived at the Bergen Mall. It was after 10 but I figured with previews we were good to go. Turns out, I, Robot had already begun, which started a little squabble between Neo and his "boyfriend". Lovely. We watched the movie in silence. It wasn't as good as people have said. The plot was OK and the effects were also OK. (Pithy review, no?) After the movie I tried splashing some cold water on my face as my little trip to Jersey had left me feeling shaky, gritty and frankly a tad stinky. Neo could see apparently that I had had enough and asked if I wanted to be taken home. I'm smelly, tired and almost broke so I say yes. The ride back to Manhattan feels interminable. My body chemistry is fucked the fuck up and I am one gay raw nerve. We finally arrive in front of my building around 1 am, I say my goodbyes and return to my castle high atop Second Avenue. I wouldn't feel right again until the next evening.

Wednesday, July 21, 2004

Linking Yer Ass Up And Takin Names...

HULK'S DIARY. Yes, The Incredible Hulk has a weblog and it's 100 times better than his unfortunately crappy movie. (But I can't help feeling I've read a lot of it before... hmm.)

Awful Plastic Surgery. Poor, poor Marilyn. -via XO's Musicquarium

A link for my peeps here in NYC. HopStop.

The Bulge Research Institute's Bulge Report. You're welcome.

Stress Release Aquarium. Cartoon violence is kewl.

Linda Ronstadt is booed off a Vegas stage. Michael Moore sees further opportunity to promote, well, Michael Moore. Silly Linda, you can't have opinions in America, sweetie.

Saturday, July 17, 2004

My Tale Of Woe

I try not to complain about the things that happen to me. The people yes, but
the things, not so much. Largely because I fail to see the point.
Shit happens. Truer more concise words were never spoken. So when it
happens to me I pretty much process it, shrug, make a little mental
"well how do you like that" and walk away.

For example. Last week I left my laptop at work. At first, I didn't
really pay it any mind. My office door is locked. But upon further
consideration I began to remember how many times one of my mewling
hunchback underlings can come rapping at the door to tell me that one
of the bartenders "is mean". Then I remembered the wooden folding chair
I bought that didn't survive its first month. And the full length
mirror that was cracked completely in half and left hanging. Mysteriously,
no one knows how or when it happened. Equally mysteriously, no one felt
the least little urge to replace said shattered mirror, preferring instead to
run the risk of slicing open an artery in your groin if you got too close while
tying your tie. "Sorry, I can't accept your schedule request, I'm
bleeding out right now." I finally replaced it myself after I couldn't
stand it one. more. day. Add in one more shattered folding (metal)
chair and a ripped up threadbare footstool and I suddenly feared that
leaving my laptop in a high traffic destructive area was probably a
mistake. Still, I opted to leave it. I let a day and a half go by
before returning to work. A half hour later I turned on my box.
Nothing. At least on-screen. I heard the little fella cycle through the
set-up so I knew the hard drive was working but the display was shot.

"That sucks," I thought.

I did inquire to Jabba The Drunk if he could remember my laptop getting
dropped or knocked off the chair. He claimed no knowledge but did in fact
confess the next day that he opened the door pretty quickly and knocked it pretty
good. That could have done it, but then again, it could have been the two times
last week when I stuffed it in my backpack and biked 40 blocks with it
bouncing around in there. At that point, "the how" that brought us to
"the what" was already unimportant to me. I had moved on to what is. So
on Saturday I brought my poor damaged box to a repair shop on 14th near
6th. They advertised that they fixed most major brands, and I decided
that it was probably a loose connection between the computer and
screen. I explained the problem to the repair "boy" who promptly hooked
my laptop up to a monitor (I embarrassingly forgot you could easily do
that) and confirmed the drive is fine, and dignosed a display problem,
possibly the LCD. All the while he's unscrewing things and removing the
keyboard, so naturally I assume he's going to fix it right then and
there. Instead after a few minutes of fiddling with things he informs
me in conspiritorial tones that he's taped his cell number on the back
of my laptop and to call him later tonight. He says he "knows a guy"
who can fix it for me probably for "around $30 or $35 dollars".

"WTF?" I'm thinking, "Isn't that what you do?"

Totally confused now and possibly mixed up in some Al Qaeda plot of
some sort, I thank Mustafah Akbar, the computer repair boy who doesn't
repair things, and head home. So for now, I'm stuck doing all of my
writing back at home. I do the monitor trick at work but I have truly
grown to loath my HP Omnibook 900 with the maddeningly jumpy cursor.
How many $35 blowjobs will I have to give out via Craigslist ads until
I can afford something else? That's the least of my problems.

Last year I bought a bike. The man and his bike were inseperable for
most of the summer until that fateful day when my poor bike friend was stolen
right out of my (usually) locked building. I told you recently about how, through
my brother's generosity and a little creative financing, I was able to replace the Toy's 'R Us bike with a pretty sweet upgrade.What I didn't mention was that three weeks later it was stolen. Right from in front of my own place of enslavement. I was out in the field picking green beans at the time. I was really disappointed but otherwise non-plussed. I mean I wasn't happy but it seemed ridiculously ridiculous and ultimately unfixable. So I silently bid a heartfelt goodbye to Bertha, slightly amused that I was sorrier to see this Bertha go than the real one. Determined to soldier on, I jumped back in with both feet, returning to the We 'B Toys (because there was no way I was coming up with the pesos for a full replacement) and secured
another under $100 bike that had two wheels and brakes and 21 gears and
really, for my puposes what else do you need? Apparently, you also need
a tire pump and extra seat padding as I discovered after two weeks with
my new friend, who I named simply #3, as I thought should disaster
strike thrice, it would be less painful if I didn't let it get too
close by granting it a formal name. Good thing, too. Since a day after I
began accessorizing #3, it was swiped from outside the rack at my gym.
And all I got to show for it was a blowjob. But that's another story.
Funny, because the night before I had popped into my gym with The Hellcat for a quick workout.
We were in the locker room when he he looked on, bemused at my tiny...
travel lock I had picked up at CVS for $2.29.

"You're a very trusting soul, aren't you?"

"They're just things."

And it's true. They are only things. They're my things. I like my things. I
would prefer that people would stop taking my things. And I don't
understand why some people are able to be so morally bankrupt that they
can just walk up and take a thing. And I don't truly want to. But
they're only things. And I can replace them. Or not. It's only as
important as you allow it to be. That said, I'm done with bikes for now.

In other news...

Despite the rule change, alas, I remain too old to become an American Idol. Thank god,
I would probably dissolve into an alcoholic mess before the season ended. Maybe America would enjoy that.

From time to time I recommend software or tech I've been using. If you're
sick of IE as your browser just 'cause they get boring, or you're
worried about the porous and worm vulnerable fashion in which IE was
built, try downloading Firefox. I've been using it exclusively for the last two weeks and I'm hooked.
It easily imports all of your Internet Explorer bookmarks, it's a tiny,
fast little download, has a popup blocking feature plus great extra
"extensions" that allow you to customize your toolbars, or you can
download "skins" that completely give your browser window some unique
characteristics. Try it. Tell 'em Mustafah sent you.

Friday, July 16, 2004

Me Likey!

A new text editor from the Blogger gods. This oughta be fun. Thanks a bunch. But it's still a little buggy.

Thursday, July 15, 2004

Just Giving Them What They Want...

A once-over of my latest site statistics always yields some surprises. A large number of people were apparently interested in some pictures. One you had to go very deep into the way back machine to the very beginnings of this chronicle to find, but find it you did. Anyone care to explain the sudden interest (besides the obvious) in this picture?

Right up there as well, for the last couple of days people were (again surprisingly) enamored of this blast from my own past. I'm almost embarrassed now not cause it's my butt but such a lousy crop job and crappy graphics overlay. I've gotten better. Sadly, I don't think my ass has.

So just because I'm in a devil-may-care mood, here's another gratuitous butt shot of me from me to you.

What's with the ass obsession you ask? For the second time in two months words to this effect were in an e-mail I received:

"... but I later found out from
your blog--to my chagrin--that we are both big-dicked

To which I officially go on record as sayin' big dick? Well, yeah. Top? Well if one of you big talkers knows the right way to crank that engine (hint: It involves your tongue, lube and fingers for starters) I would most definitely be only too happy to show you what a foul-mouthed hot (and loud) bottom I can be. Properly motivated, of course. Dare ya'.

Tuesday, July 13, 2004

I'm Still Around, Just Got Busy

Sex on stage with Cumshots

So that's what Nick Carter's cock smells like.

Watched the special Queer Eye UK Episode. Loved it. Want to fuck the hell out of their interior design guy (is that a surprise knowing me?), Dane Bailey. Was it just me or is their food and wine guy Peyton a tad scary? Like, "Why don't you taste it first, Peyton" scary. I was shocked and hilariously stunned that Bravo not only provided translation keys to English slang (there was only one term I've never heard) but they also chose to use English subtitles under people speaking English! I guess they assumed, probably correctly, that the Wal-Mart crowd wouldn't be able ta unnerstand all thet newfangled fancy talk. You shore do have purty lips, though.

I committed a crime today. Actually two. Forgery and fraud. Fraud I've committed before. Several times.
"What do you gents do?"

"Rape, murder, robbery, mayhem, rape."

"You said rape twice."

"I like rape."

We do what we must to help out our loved ones in need. Turns out I have a gift for forgery. It was a mistake to teach me to cut and paste. Must be the Sicilian blood.

tomorrow a tale of woe, I think.... love you like my luggage.

Friday, July 09, 2004

Links A Go-Go!

It's all links with minor commentary today. Enjoy.

I want me some "Queer Abs".

RateARod. 'Nuff said.

Starting this Friday at 8p.m. BBC America will begin showing vintage episodes of one of my favorite television shows ever. 57 episodes of The Avengers. 25 with Diana Rigg as Emma Peel, 32 with Linda Thorson. I loved, loved, loved Emma Peel. True confession: I wanted to be Emma Peel. I once dreamed I was Emma Peel. Also Batgirl. Watch. Tivo. See. It's classic TV.


A war on pornography? I will take up arms to defend those that would fuck for money.

This is just... well ... I need a nice way of saying dumb.

A couple of new weblogs added in the links down below. I'm enjoying them both so say hi to Ultrasparky and Joe.My.God.

Bitch. Choire Sicha on a return to the closet. -via New York Observer

Slap. David Ehrenstein's (kind of lame) rebuttal. -via The

Wednesday, July 07, 2004

Why Reagan Ignored AIDS

Michael Bronsky clarifies the Ronald Reagan "debate". -via towleroad (thanks Christopher)

And I guess the 3 million people who died this year from AIDS-related causes are non-plussed by any of it.

The good news is there seems to be some success developing cheaper generic HIV meds.

The bad news is that big, influential ($$$$$$) U.S. pharmaceutical companies don't want them available.

"Take it from me, there is still gonna be, a summer, a winter, a fall and a spring..." -unless you don't get much needed medication and you die.

Monday, July 05, 2004

No Justice, No Pizza

Notice I didn't publish a Gay Pride re-cap? Hmmm? Wondering where Our Hero was during the day that traditionally revolves around waving yo' hands up in the air and exclaiming "Is that Janet or Latoya? I can't tell from back here." I was being gyroic, of course. Observing a tradition buried deep in our gay roots. Indeed, a tradition from which the very (very) Gay Pride day we were celebrating was birfed. I spent the day engaged in social protest.

If you haven't read the story so far, I'll refer you here. As an aside, I had planned on posting it as an update to Devon's new website. But if you'll pardon the ill-timed analogy it seems the inmates are currently running the asylum, so while I'm following along (not surprisingly, I speak fluent nuts) and have managed to dope out most of what occurred along the way, I think I'll just watch this particular roadside pileup from across the street thank you. Get well soon, hooker.

In any case, I'm not sure when I brought it up, it may have been the day it happened, but at some point I mentioned to The Hellcat that Pride was coming up shortly, and perhaps we should surprise our "friends" down at Rivoli Pizza with a little old school "Out of the closets and into the streets" protest action. He mentioned it several times after that so I kept the idea on the burner, ready to launch a well-timed strike, but leaving the codes to the nuclear football in The Hellcat's hands should he choose to use them. Unfortunately, as is his fashion, he didn't decide to call a counterstrike until the night before pride, leaving me to crank up the support in rapid succession.. Which explains why I was designing a flyer to hand out for the next afternoon at 1:30 in the morning. It also explains why I openly scoffed at The Hellcat's plan to meet at 10 a.m. or some such nonsense. Oh, he is ambitious, that one. As if. If I was going to engage in my own social protest we were going to shoot for "sometime after noon". Hopefully, this trend will catch on. Why you do-gooder types schedule everything for 8 a.m. on a Saturday morning is beyond me. I don't see how you become less of an "agent for change" if you do it after a nutritious brunch and a couple of bloodys to fortify you. Say around 1 p.m.? Think about it.

And so it was that around the crack of noon we were scurrying about trying to "pretty up" for Pride and make plans for our protest . We left for the Kinko's around 12:40 (thank you very much) and we were on the way across town to the west side. Armed with 300 black and white flyers, 10 copies in full color, and a couple of copies of the story detailing the whole incident. Oh, and a backpack full of sex toys. You may think I'm joking. But I'm not. Don't ask. Somehow we decided to cross Fifth Avenue at one of the few streets where crossing was allowed and then proceeded to zig zag down to Christopher and Hudson. One zag led us in to Julius'. A place that makes my regulars look downright spry. We downed a quick (and awful) bloody and were going to circle around and come at it by Hudson St. Or so I thought. Don't ask me why I agreed to it, but it was decided that we would head for Christopher about two blocks east of Hudson and then follow Christopher St down. During the parade. Making a normally three minute walk into a 20 minute melange of tripping, stumbling, swearing and apologizing. But we finally arrived. Once I collected a now feudin' and a fussin' Hellcat and Kitten we started handing out flyers. Telling anyone who wore a rainbow anything, or had a boy or girlfriend in tow and was heading in to buy something that they should read the flyer before they spend their money. Many, many people did. And some, a few, went in anyway. But the most miraculous thing started to happen. People read the flyer. Some asked questions.

"This place?"

"Yes, apparently they'll take your money but you can't kiss your girlfriend."

"Dat's messed up."

"True dat."

OK I'm paraphrasing. But the point was they left. A lot of people left. And a pizzeria that's usually balls to the wall packed during the pride parade was decidedly empty. I guess that's why the owner's son appeared.

"You have to stop."

"Well no, we don't." I thought to myself.

The Hellcat took point and began yelling at the owner's son and then inside to the owner about how they threw him and his boyfriend out for kissing, and that's discrimination and he wanted an apology in The New York Times and this demand and that rant.... He's from California. I just continued handing out flyers and shooing customers away as I knew this was probably making the father's brain form an aneurysm. I was right. About a half hour later, the son came back out again..

"Please stop?"

My turn now.

"Sorry man, I was here that day, and I can tell you they weren't doing anything but kissing while we were waiting. And it wasn't dirty, and it wasn't inappropriate and it certainly wasn't something we needed to be chased out of the restaurant for. Now I'd like to know if that employee was acting on his own, or if this is a policy that's coming from your father? Because if he's acting on his own than he was acting inappropriately and someone needs to speak to him. And if it's the owner's policy than I don't understand why you're running an establishment that's within spitting distance of the biggest gayest pier in New York. And why on Christopher Street in 2004 that it's your business or a problem if two men kiss. So maybe we got your attention and maybe you're sorry now but we aren't leaving 'till we're done."

There was more, we talked a little back and forth, we were both pretty grown up about it. He said he wanted to apologize. I said it was a little late. He said he wanted to make it right. I said I was making it right by hitting them in the cash register where they would remember it next time. Then he left to find a cop. The Hellcat noticed it too.

"He's getting a cop."

"Let him," I said, "we're not doing anything illegal. We're not preventing people that want to go in from doing so. This is social protest and perfectly legal and within our rights."

A few minutes later a cop shows up.

"They want you to leave."

"I bet they do." I say, smiling.

Properly armed, The Hellcat chimes in with the aforementioned social protest and within our rights bidness.

"All right." Was all the cop said before walking away.

I sensed victory in our grasp.

After about an hour and a half of severe businessus interruptus, the owner and his son pulled The Hellcat inside. Just as well, we were running out of flyers. Ten minutes later he emerged, and announced our social protest was over. Apparently, they both apologized again for the incident and claimed it wouldn't happen again. They offered us food right then and there and they offered to buy dinner at another restaurant they own. We declined. They also promised to send a letter of apology to my site for me to post or to an e-mail address we had set up for responses. So we gathered up the rest of our things and jammed it into my backpack, right next to the buttplug, and headed north, away from the still partying crowd, as my psychic defenses had begun to crumble and I needed space. We re-funded me at an available ATM, and ended up walking towards Greenwich. It was at W. 10 St. that we made our sighting. Michael Musto in that putrid green track pant and T-shirt combination. I think I gasped aloud. It was that horrid. It was so horrid that cameras came out. She looked like she was about to panic. Or she was drunk. We mercifully (for her) decided not to document it with pictures. And to think I spent the last two hours defending the right to make bad fashion choices.

A much needed dinner at an Italian place on Greenwich followed. As always, I could find it again I just don't know the name. We all agreed that our mission was most definitely accomplished and out of all the ways that we could have chosen to spend Gay Pride, this was probably one of the best and certainly one to be able to tell the grandkids. Wait....

We also agreed that even if they didn't really mean the apology, we wanted to get one and we did. We're still waiting for the letter, but I'm not hopeful on that count. The point then? In spite of the banner years we've been having lately in the courts, in City Hall, the strides we've made on television and in print, more work needs to be done. Despite the fact that I live in one of the most socially tolerant, live and let live cities in the world, I can still be walking down the street and have a delivery guy call me faggot in Spanish. I could still be told to not kiss my boyfriend in a Christopher St. pizzeria. If I let them call me that. If I let them tell me that. Or I make a few hundred flyers and take the time to get my ass off the couch and show up for something that matters. I make sure I play it for maximum effect, becoming the big mouthed faggot you sometimes need to be if you want people to pay attention to you. You take the time to say: This Is Wrong! How else are you going to make it right?


Friday, July 02, 2004

Chance That This Trend Will Jump The Pond?

None.But it's still a good article.

Is The Potbelly The New Gay Ideal?

It's hot. I walked to the check cashing store on 22nd/1st to pay Con-Ed. But they don't take checks. They cash 'em, but they don't take 'em. So I walked to the Citibank on 16th/1st to deposit The Ex's share of the rent, and take out money for Con-Ed. I walked back to the check cashing place on 22nd/1st. I pay the bill. I walked to the 24hr. deli on 2nd/19th and bought a paper and some celery. I go up 5 flights of stairs, go into my apartment and whip up a tasty little chicken salad made with celery, onions, red pepper and black pepper. Only to discover we're out of mayonnaise. (sigh) I walk down 5 flights .........