The sick thing keeps holding on and continues to be sick – I wasn’t actually referring to the President but it applies there too.

My cough remains (and it drains me, saps all my energy) and the more I talk the less I can talk – it seems. I folded a load of laundry this weekend and had to take a nap after as I was beat. The only thing that has been alleviated since I started the antibiotic is pain. My throat doesn’t hurt any more and that’s a really nice thing – thank you science.

I’m going to call my doctor this morning and try to see him to see if this is something else or just a virus thing. Hopefully he can get this all sorted out.

Work folks think it’s a nice change from me talking all the time and my friend Vanessa is happy I’m not singing at my desk all day (I’m never sure if she doesn’t like my singing or just finds it odd that someone sings at the job). Continue reading

Angry Gay Rant of the Day

I happen to be gay.

I’ve been that way for as long as I can remember. I didn’t wake up one day and decide “hey let’s be ostracized and hated for the people we love” – I just have always been this way. I happen to like the way I am. Most people know I’m gay, I don’t hide the fact that I like men. I am not overly flamboyant or girlie nor do I wear lots of rainbows, dresses or sparkly clothing – neither do the men I like.

I am not the stereotypical gay male – most of us aren’t the characters you’ve come to know and love on TV or in movies – we’re just ordinary people who happen to love other ordinary people. Some of us ARE more fabulous than others but the same could be said about straights as well.¬†We are all unique and we all have a right to love whom we want – gay or straight, male or female, binary or non-binary… love is love. Continue reading

Coming Out and Coming to Terms with Me

A friends brother came out recently after many years of being closeted and she wanted to talk to me about how that kind of thing can happen… so I wrote this long email to her and decided I should put it here too.

Long before I had any notion of what it meant to be gay I found men attractive (especially bearded, hairy men). When I’d play with my superhero figures it was usually Batman and Superman that were kissing – Wonder Woman was nowhere to be found, it could be that I didn’t have Wonder Woman… who would buy a boy Wonder Woman in the 70s? We were actually pretty poor and I don’t recall having Superman and Batman dolls so that was all in my imagination… so I could have thought of Wonder Woman, but she didn’t come up.

It didn’t take long to see how homosexuals were portrayed on TV and in movies and even though I couldn’t identify as one yet, I was suddenly much more aware of how limp my wrist was or how I walked, talked and dressed, I’d seen the way other people (my parents, TV stars, school kids) talked about gay people and I didn’t want them to talk about me like that so I was very careful at a very young age to not show too many signs… lol, seems silly to me now. Elementary school and high school gym class and shower rooms were very uncomfortable and i would get out of there as soon as possible, not looking at anything because I knew I might get excited and then I’d be discovered, the worst were the gym teachers and coaches – with their hairy arms and full bodies… just don’t look, just don’t look.

When I was around 12 or 13 an adult friend of my mother seduced me and took me – and several other kids in our small town – as his own for his pleasure. That was more secretive than being gay and exciting too. Finally the things I couldn’t really put into words or thoughts in my head were happening and it felt good but it felt bad too and it was a struggle to get through with that. It didn’t help that at that point I didn’t have any positive male figures in my life, all my mothers husbands beat her and were drunk no one I wanted to be like. This was the first time I had been loved, that I could tell, by another man.

When the adult that molested me was caught they sent us to therapy, in the 80s at the beginning of the AIDS crisis, what I heard the therapist say was “if you enjoyed any of that than your a sick pervert too and will catch AIDS and die…” again, that’s what I heard what he actually said might have been something very different. But it did instill in me again this feeling that I WAS WRONG, not that there was something wrong with me but I was completely wrong.

When I was seeing a therapist while in my foster home I was honest with him about my feeling towards other guys and explained I could only get off thinking about guys… he suggested that that was a learned behavior and could be changed… if I wanted to I could imagine cars when I was beating off and after enough time that would change, I was desperate to be normal and not “get AIDS and die” … sadly, thinking about girls, or cars… didn’t seem to do it for me… and wasn’t satisfying, so I gave up.

Outside of the molestation, I didn’t have sex with anyone until I was 19 or 20. My friends convinced me I had to have sex with a girl so that happened.. but I honestly had to think about a man to perform. It wasn’t enjoyable, it didn’t feel right and it wasn’t something I ever wanted to do again… but my friends were excited for me, I felt they accepted me a little bit more now that I was normal…

During my first drug and alcohol treatment I discussed my gay thoughts and feelings about it with my counselor… who suggested I might be gay… which I didn’t like very much. How dare he say such a thing! Even though I’d been fighting that very thought for years in my own head. But the thought stuck there and I started to give in – I was a doomed homosexual and the world would hate me.. and the “God” of my understanding was going to condemn me to hell because of something I didn’t have a say about.

After that treatment, when I was drinking again, a friend offered to let me see if I was really gay by having sex with him… he wasn’t “gay” of course, just doing a favor for a friend… It wasn’t really an enjoyable experience, but he wasn’t exactly my type either. So I didn’t repeat that experiment and it didn’t answer any of my questions about myself really.

After my second (and hopefully last) treatment visit I decided I was gay, but I didn’t have to act on it… so at night I’d pleasure myself and then ask “God” as I understood him, to forgive me for being a monster… every night, again and again…

At that time, the mid 90s, the internet was pretty new so there weren’t the massive amounts of gay sites there are now… so I did this Phone Bank thing where you could listen to guys on voicemail like things and then hook up… the closest city was Minneapolis/St Paul and I found a guy that I was interested in base mostly on his voice – he didn’t sound “gay”. I told my two best friends I was going to my Ma and I told my Ma that I was going to a conference – this is me in early AA lying… even though I know I have to be honest about everything to stay sober… and I went up to the Twin Cities and had the best time ever with this guy who was very patient, gentle, understanding and virile… OMG VIRILE, insatiable event. Then I was being destroyed by the lie… I felt so horrible for the lie but felt so right about what I had done… it was so conflicting, so I told my two best friends that I lied to them and told them the truth about me, which they knew anyway, but it felt better to be honest.

one of those two best friends was moving to Washington DC and told me that I had to come with “Eau Claire WI is no place for a gay boy to be” and I jumped at the chance, but mostly to get out of WI, it wasn’t about exploring being gay at all. When I told my co-workers I had to tell them something (that I was leaving) one of them said “You’d better not be coming out, you fucking faggots all need to die”

When I did get to DC it was amazing: guys were holding hands with one another ON THE STREET, for that matter, there were other races and some of them were holding hands with other races and some of them were gay or lesbian… I didn’t know what the hell was going on… it was so cool but I didn’t think you could do those things…

Shortly after moving there I was walking down 17th street, minding my own business and a car of a bunch of kids drove by and tossed a half-full beer can at me yelling “fucking faggot”… so there was that, this hatred of me for being me was everywhere not just in my head or in small town America, even in our nations capital.

I learned more and more about gay people and our history the longer I was in DC. I became more and more comfortable with myself the more I let myself… I came out to my entire family (loved ones) via an email on National Coming Out Day in 1998… and later that year I came out to my mother by wearing a t-shirt that said something clever like “my boyfriends mother doesn’t know I’m gay” or some such… she was not amused ūüėČ

I’m a typical gay man, because I happen to like having sex with other gay men… but in other senses I’m not a typical gay man. I don’t care about the Tony Awards or Liza Minnelli, I’m not a fan of drag shows or say “fabulous” a lot… but not all straight people like NASCAR or Fox News or find Rhiana attractive… I’m an individual who finally came to terms with being who I am after much trial and error. Are there still times I feel hated by others? sure. Are there times I hate myself? not so much anymore. I think I’m fortunate to live in these times when people start to realize that there are more than one kind of love, more than one kind of relationship in the world… To come out today with all the wonderful things happening for gay people … well it would have been a great time to get to know myself… but I wouldn’t trade the struggles I had for an easier softer way, those struggles shaped me into the man I have become and I like him… I wouldn’t date him, not my type at all ūüėÄ

My Tattoos

More than a few men recently have commented on my tattoos (and piercings) and said that having tattoos means your into kinky sex. No really, this is what they keep telling me. This really kind of throws me, I’ve had tattoos much longer than I’ve been having sex. Also I’ve had sex with people who have tattoos and really – a few of those encounters were pretty boring.

In the gay community over the years they established lots of little tells to let other closeted gays know they were there or what they were into. Rainbow stickers are everywhere now, but 10 – 20 years ago and longer people had to be much more discrete about these type of things so they developed these markers for others. There is even a hanky code for what you might or might not be into – I should warn you clicking on that link might be TMI for you.

For me it’s about art, about expressing myself and the things I like. Each and every tattoo I have is based on something I like or something that means a lot to me. Superman, lightning bolts, Greek gods, AA, bear paw prints, old nicknames…

My first tattoo was done by my friend Ted or maybe his brother Tim (I was 14, stoned or drunk and my memory isn’t what it used to be) using a needle, some thread and india ink. That symbol was painfully put on one needle stick at a time and represented the 12 Greek gods. It was crude in comparison to what I have on my body now, but at that age it was pretty cool thing to have.

Since then I’ve gotten more complicated with what I want on my body – my first tattoo as an adult covered up that tattoo that I got when I was young, but I wasn’t very clear about what I wanted it to be and gave the artist too much¬†leeway¬†so it ended up being a question mark that isn’t really very pretty – it looks better now that I’ve surrounded it by a dragon (which was hand drawn on my arm by this guy at Jinx Proof, so cool.¬†The next was the Superman symbol, then the lightning bolt, armband, bear claw print, tramp stamp (Zeus), AA symbol on my leg, and finally the ancient Greek Gods tat on my back.

None of those, well except maybe the tramp stamp and the arm band, says anything about sex. Well not that I know of.¬†Its like when I wear a cross necklace – I don’t wear a cross necklace because I believe in crucifying believers – I just happen to like how cross necklaces look sometimes.

Recently with the Sikh shooter the press has been throwing this statement out there: 

An agent from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms told ABC News that the shooter had tattoos.

Tattoos don’t make a shooter anymore than sandals make a monk. That’s the motivation behind this post (even though I did have several men express that my tattoos meant I was into kinky sex – which I’m not…. well, what did you have in mind exactly? )

I do sometimes worry about my tattoos and them being¬†misinterpreted¬†by others. Lightning bolts, dragons and Superman can all be associated with the KKK and I keep my head shaved. But really, I’m just an ordinary gay guy that likes tattoos – I have no hidden agendas (well none that I’m ready to share with the world, my manifesto will be on the New York Times Best Seller list – I’m certain) or particular hates of any kind of people. I dislike humans in general, but I don’t target specific groups to hate, really it takes too much effort.

I just really don’t like when we associate bad/stupid/moronic/crazy people with what they wear or how they look. After the Aurora shootings movie theaters banned folks from wearing masks when going to the theater – the guy who shot those people didn’t buy a ticket, he came in through the back door. After Columbine schools across the country banned black trench coats. After the Amish school shooting in PA in 2006, our President expressed his concern of school violence (this last one I’m not sure which was the more bad/stupid/moronic/crazy ¬†– the former President or the shooter).

You know the old saying: don’t judge a book by its cover.

Freedom of and from Religion

In Washington, DC on a Sunday morning you cannot purchase alcohol until after 10:00 a.m. Do you know why? Because the churches want to make sure you attend church – where it is legal to drink from the blessed cup while your eating flesh. This is the alcoholic in me speaking, but it does kind of irk me that religion has its influence on a law. Restaurants in DC can be fined for serving alcohol before 10:00, but it’s ok to go to the church and drink up. (Yes, I know it’s only a sip of blood… er wine.)

This isn’t the only place that churches influence the laws in our country that supposedly practices freedom of religion. The First Amendment:

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

This doesn’t actually scream out to me that churches need to stay out of policy and law – but I think that’s what it means. Check out this Wiki article and see what others are saying:

As it stands right now the Catholic and Mormon Churches (among others) are opposed to same-sex marriage, and homosexuality is a sin in their eyes. According to them the only legitimate place to get fucked up the ass is in the back of the church and then only if your under the age of consent.

To the Parishioner who continues to put money in the plate each Sunday or monthly or annually. I want you to look at what your contribution to the Pedophile Pimps is paying for:

Catholic Church Sex Abuse Settlement ($166.1 Million)- March 25th, 2011 :

Catholic Church 2007 ($660 Million) :

LA Catholic Church ($250 Million):

Bishop to seek Treatment:

This list goes on an on, so please don’t think that the money you contribute to your local church stays there – it doesn’t. It helps pay the moving costs of the monsters you let near your children so they can find new victims.

The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous says I should be tolerant of the religious – but it also says that as children of God we crawl before no one. I’ve been commenting lately on Facebook and Huffington Post on the failings of churches, religions and their chosen leaders. I didn’t initiate the attacks, I’m just fighting back against the hate spewing, intolerance of them. I’m considering adopting a motto for myself: Hate the Christian before they can hate you.

Recent Church Leader Scandals:

Joe My God: (there really IS enough of these for a weekly version)

Eddie Long: (I’ve seen the texted photos)

Falwell and Robertson:

Yes, these people are human and have faults – perhaps they should quit tossing stones at others.