Category: homophobia

Take a Bow

Thursday morning and I got up before my alarm, wide awake and feeling rested. Weird, right? On a THURSDAY last day in the office for the week morning? Madness. Sparky is also being super-affectionate this morning. He keeps wanting to sit on my shoulders, so he can head-butt me and purr up there while I walk around doing things. I don’t mind, I just don’t know why he is some mornings and some mornings he isn’t. Of course it doesn’t make sense because cat, but I can’t help but try to make sense of it, because I ain’t right in the head, you know?

Last night wasn’t bad. I headed uptown to pick up the mail (my copy of The Miracle at St. Bruno’s that I got from ebay, more on that later) and swung by the grocery store to make a few bags. I came home, Sparky needed a lap, and that was the end of that. I watched news and examined my new book–a paperback in pristine condition, like I picked it up off the rack at Zayre like I did my original copy–and watched the news—along with any number of videos ripping Ed Sheeran1 and Robert Kraft new assholes. Paul brought a pizza home for dinner, which was lovely, and we watched LSU-The Difference on ESPN, a documentary series they are filming for this season (think ESPN isn’t all in on LSU? I don’t they are doing one for every top team in the country, and there wasn’t a guarantee LSU would be any good this year, and really, still can’t be sure how good they are anyway at this point). I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home and put everything away, but…I slept very well for the first time this week, and it felt marvelous. I think we’re going to Costco tomorrow after work, too. Huzzah!

I’ve fallen down a wormhole of Internet research thanks to a Facebook friend who shared a post about a “ghost ship” that can be seen under the right conditions on the Tombigbee River in southwest Alabama, the Eliza Battle. The ship was a classic steamboat of the era (which I will always associate–steamboats, that is–with Mark Twain), transporting cotton bales and passengers when a fire broke out in the cotton and the entire ship went up in flames before sinking. I like the idea of a ghost steamboat (I am also partial to steamboats, maybe I should write about that sometime), which could make an interesting story. I love these old folk tales of Southern states, and feel like some of them could be used to write novels or short stories; I’ve been trying to write one about the legend of Freniere and the 1915 Hurricane, which wiped the town out, for years now. Learning Alabama and Louisiana history, legends, and lore is ever so much fun, too!

Has the entire world gone mad? After the Pink meltdown, the Ed Sheeran disaster, and Arch Manning proving he has no home training, I pretty much thought we were done with ignorant celebrity bullshit, but Sarah Paulson decided to say hold my beer and gave an incredibly tone-deaf white woman interview, in which she expressed disappointment that her Black male costars on The People v. O. J. Simpson got movie offers and she didn’t–she was trying to make the point that it’s more difficult for women to get parts in movies because those roles are few and far between for women, whereas male-centered movies are a dime a dozen. It was tone-deaf to make the comparison with two Black actors, who face an entirely but equally horrifying different kind of fight–yes, they are men, but they aren’t white men. And she left out the most obvious reasons producers don’t think about her when they’re casting–girl, you’re an out and proud lesbian. Hollywood is not only misogynist and racist, but it’s also incredibly homophobic. It’s getting better, but there are still an endless amount of problems in that “liberal” community.

Speaking of homophobia, I kind of love that congressional candidate Chris Gallant did, in his pre-politician life, posed in BDSM gear and there are also pictures of him on Fire Island in his underwear. YAWN. He’s running for a House seat on Long Island, is an openly gay former Marine and firefighter…and the only thing his MAGA opponent can come up with is him posing for some sexy pictures that exposed nothing prurient and was in the past…newsflash: most gay men, have sexy photos of themselves, in bathing suits at the very least, and more have nudes than a straight person might realize. I also love that he’s being defiant and refusing to be shamed out of the race. Pictures in BDSM gear doesn’t mean you’re into BDSM, and if you are, who the fuck cares? ANd seriously, the party of MAGA and the buffoon they worship has some fucking nerve trying to morality police anyone. Yo, you’re party leader is a pedophile rapist psychopath. Why don’t you start policing him? Anyway, I donated a little to his campaign.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely, lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning on work-at-home Friday!

  1. I’ve taken to calling him “Gingerdoodle.” ↩︎

Swim

Wednesday morning and we’re making our way through the week nicely, I think. Today is going to be very busy in the clinic, and so I am expecting to be very tired when I get home tonight. That’s fine, the weekend looms, as well as my work-at-home day on Friday. I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home, but then I had to make a bed for Sparky out of my lap while I caught up on the news. What a wild day yesterday was, in unimportant news in the overall scheme of things. The whole Ed Sheeran1 torching his career2 wasn’t on my bingo card for 2026, but then again, neither was Arch Manning being a misogynist asshole about Holly Rowe either (he did apologize, both publicly and privately, but…I guess I’ll just chalk that whole mess up to he was smart enough to apologize, even if it reeked of a PR team). Bottom line–grabbing your ankles and bending over for a morally corrupt billionaire doesn’t fly in these times. The country is angry, angry about everything and rightfully so; but…I also don’t have a lot of sympathy (any, really) for the people who gleefully voted for all of this but are so penitent now (not penitent enough to abandon the Republican Party, though) and upset that they aren’t being treated like the “innocent victims” they claim to be–and he “lied” isn’t a defense. I heard him very clearly, and I saw the signs and shirts at the rallies and heard the chants.

If I knew, there’s no reason why you didn’t–because you literally cannot concede, even now, that you based your vote on your own bigotry. Given into, and following, evil isn’t a mistake and you were a very willing participant. We all saw it. You just chose not to, because it felt good to strike a blow for white supremacy, economic disaster, and another forever war. Oh, excuse me, it felt good to strike back against social justice progress and stick it to those libs, right? You voted to hurt queer people and did so with a great big smile on your face…well, this liberal faggot feels nothing for you. Finally, at long last, people are sick to fucking death of your bullshit and you’re finally feeling those consequences you wanted for everyone that you don’t like…and I’m supposed to now feel sorry for you?3 I didn’t vote for you to lose your family’s generational farm and wealth, why should my tax dollars bail your stupid asses out? I’d rather student loan debt be retired than another bailout for MAGA farmers and ranchers.

Life’s hard, bitches. Pull yourselves up by the bootstraps. FREEDOM! Maybe cut back on some of your streaming services, or make coffee at home instead of going to Starbucks. And avocado toast, I hear, is really expensive so don’t waste money on fripperies. Economize. Where’s that American “can do” mentality? Work harder! Maybe do some ride-sharing work, or delivery for an app. There’s all kinds of ways you can make some money to supplement your farm/ranch, isn’t there? You don’t need any of that socialist bail out money, do you? No, you thought “he fucked us but bailed us out with welfare the last time, so he’ll take care of us always”–ha ha ha ha ha.

Fools.

As I mentioned, creating a lap for Sparky last night kept from doing much of anything except watching the news, as I can’t use my laptop with a cat in my lap–and oh, the dirty looks I get whenever I even slightly shift while he’s asleep! Plus, it’s so lovely to come home from work and get affection from a cat. On the way home tonight I have to run some errands, and it’s also supposed to rain today. So, who knows what kind of place I’ll be in tonight when I finally trudge up the stairs and enter the Lost Apartment, having survived another day in the mad jungle. Oh, and my latest newsletter went out this morning; click here to read my takes on Flipper.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Hope your Wednesday is charming, lovely, and happy, Constant Reader, and I will be back bright and early tomorrow morning.

I’ve always loved this image, taken out my bay windows during a thunderstorm around noon on a Sunday a few years ago. It has a real creepy Gothic feel to it.
  1. One can’t help but be amused that Sheeran’s statement, primarily focused on him being “responsible” to the other artists on his tour–resulted in them all quitting. That did make me laugh. When I read his statement, all I could think was, dude, this is going to blow up in your face, and I was right. Regardless where you come down in your opinions and thoughts about Gaza and Palestine, the principle here–suppressing of political speech for an artist–should concern you, and it’s partly why Sheeran is being dragged for filth so intensely. ↩︎
  2. By the way, the billionaire who caused all this is the one at whose wedding he performed at, and has called “super sweet” before…yes, those are words often used to describe billionaires. Yes, Ed, you sacrificed your public image for a “super sweet” billionaire suppressing free speech. I’d delete you off my Spotify, but guess what? I don’t listen to your hackneyed pablum music. Way to be a free speech warrior and stand up for your fellow artists….god knows, we certainly can’t expect the half-billionaire cosplaying as Irish (cultural appropriation, especially when he has no clue how the Irish feel about oppression) to stand on principle. ↩︎
  3. Also, did you mask during COVID? Did you get your vaccines? Because as a public health worker, there’s yet another reason for me to completely despise you, your ancestors, and your descendants. Consider it a generational curse. ↩︎

Ray of Light

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. Sparky is being needy this morning for some reason, but that’s fine. I’m still a bit groggy this morning, but I finally had a deep night’s sleep–I didn’t sleep well all weekend–and have a lot of emails to answer. When I get to the office this morning, I have to finish setting up the new testing room I use at work since they moved me last week, andI don’t know how busy we are going to be, but I need to get cracking on so many things. I’ve been a bit lethargic since my birthday–subconscious depression on being a senior, perhaps?–but…while understandable, I don’t have to like it because consciously it doesn’t bother me at all.

Or perhaps I doth protest a bit too much.

The Saints lost yesterday 31-30 in overtime, which was exciting if disappointing, and it was, overall, a pretty decent overall day. I hadn’t slept well, so wasn’t a ball of fire yesterday morning, but I did get another load of dishes done and did some more cleaning and organizing during the Saints game. Once that was over, we switched to the US Open, followed by this week’s Reacher, which is always fun. I then queued up another episode of Scream Queens–the Lea Michele makeover episode–and then we watched Supergirl, which was far better than I had heard or hoped it would be. I’ve always been partial to Supergirl–aka Superman’s lesser known, far overshadowed cousin–and was crushed when DC killed her off in the Crisis on Infinite Earths reboot of their entire universe. She returned in that universe later, but she was a by-product of the matrix that healed Superman after he died in the 1990s. I hated that the first big screen adaptation was so badly fumbled, and I didn’t last more than a couple of episodes of the television series. Bit I greatly enjoyed this movie, and Milly Alcock was terrific. I always thought her back story was dark and twisted–she was older when Argo City was destroyed, and so her PTSD is way worse than Clark’s, as the only survivors of an extinct race. I’m sure it didn’t do as well as it should have because the comic book incels were all girls can’t be super-heroes, duh as they opened yet another bag of Cheetos Puffs.

There was a lot of stupidity on-line yesterday, and all I could do was roll my eyes at the ignorance on display. I think my favorite stupid post was some stupid homophobic bitch who referred to The Song of Achilles as centering “Achilles’ often overlooked friend.” Um, did you even fucking read the book, you idiot? Yes, yes, they were just friends. Really close ones, the kind that actually fuck, and were buried together so they could be side by side for all eternity. Suuuuure, Jan.

But as I sat in my easy chair watching the US Open final after the Saints game yesterday, an idea flashed through my head for a reboot of a short story I want to submit to an anthology call. I started writing the story originally during #metoo (yes, it was a #metoo story) in which I had a horrible male author drop dead at a cocktail party honoring his retirement from teaching creative writing at the master’s level, who had helped launch a lot of careers–but he was always an inappropriate pig with his women students, and my main character–a lesbian crime writer, witnessed some strange activity at the party before his death. (I also had his past behavior echo things I’ve seen or heard male authors say to women authors–y’all really have no clue what women think of you, do you?). I’ve rewritten it any number of times but it never really has worked, and….then last night, I knew how to make it work and the new opening line came to me. I got my laptop out, wrote three paragraphs (it’s completely rebooted now), and then opened the current chapter of the book and wrote slightly over a thousand words on it, too. I also solved the mystery of the book last night, and realized my killer (in the book) wasn’t the real killer and then it all clicked into place. So, I was very pleased and happy when I went to bed last night, which was awesome, and then I slept well, which was even more awesome.

So, I am feeling pretty good this morning as I head back into the spice mines. I hope this week will be a good one for all of concerned, and I will be back bright and early in the morning again. See you then!

This was the view from our rental condo in Acapulco twenty years ago. Such a lovely trip.

Sanctuary

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and how are you this morning, Constant Reader? I didn’t feel like I slept very well when I first got up again, but now that I’m swilling coffee I feel more rested and relaxed than I thought I would when Sparky started rubbing against me and purring. It was also very nice to come downstairs to a cleaned and organized kitchen. I worked on the kitchen during the Michigan-Oklahoma game and did more during Alabama-Kentucky. Kentucky was terrible through the whole game, and Alabama played down to their level for three quarters. Likewise, LSU had an equally poor start against Louisiana Tech before turning it on in the second half. After LSU was winding down, we switched over in time to see Texas’ last minute comeback to beat Ohio State (good for you, local boy Arch!), which was also fun, as was Auburn’s domination of Southern Mississippi; overall, a good day in college football around the Lost Apartment, and the Saints start playing today, I think at Detroit? I really do love my football weekends in the fall. I was thinking about that very thing yesterday–and how much my love of football is connected to love of my family because we always watched football together.

Looks like another Democrat has thrown the trans community under the bus, and as I said, I am almost done completely with that party. I am so glad I never sent that prick Talarico a cent, and I am tired of grudgingly voting for them because they’re not quite as homophobic as MAGA. If leftists can become single issue voters and send the country down the drain, why can’t queer people? Oh, we have to unite, no matter what, despite homophobia being in our faces every day and the Democrats are too fucking afraid of having a spine that they are partly to blame for where we are now–and don’t think I”m not including Schumer and Jeffries in that enormous flaming pile of shit. Not one Democrat will call out Talarico and the other, either. That’s how much we matter to this group of spineless appeasers who can’t make a stand for humanity and decency. Never, ever, trust a fucking Christian minister, and don’t trust the bootlicking bottom feeders like Keith Edwards1 that support them and label them progressive. Listen to Black women, for fuck’s sake.

I’ve tried now, for years, to justify watching Real Housewives shows despite kind of feeling like a bad child getting away with something every time I do watch. The women are generally terrible people for the most part, and I try to embrace the mentality of a friend–“you shouldn’t feel guilt for doing something you enjoy”–but when the something that you enjoy makes you question on occasion if you yourself are contributing to the national brain rot and success of truly horrible people for simply being truly horrible people. I suppose there is something to the notion that they aren’t popular for being terrific, which is what they do seem to think. I need to really explore this more–why I enjoy the shows, what I get from them, and I believe a lot of the appeal is escapism, like the old night time soaps in the 1980s. A good case in point, though, is when you see housewives out of their usual element–like on The Traitors or Ultimate Girls’ Trip, I get a better impression of them and find myself liking them more. (Porsha was a lot of fun on The Traitors, for one example.)

But this Biermann child rape scandal is absolutely horrifying and gets worse with every new revelation. I have personally hated that woman since the first time I saw her on Bravo, and could never understand why this creature had a following on a show that was giving us Nene and Sheree, and more Queens later; we did not need this gold-digging narcissist on our television screens for any amount of time, let alone the spin-offs or bringing her back to the original show again. I remember her saying “I want to die in Dior” in that first season, and now it looks like she should die in prison for failing her children and most of all her own daughter; while still making excuses for her predator son and bailing him out and calling his more recent accuser a liar and other names, when she already knew he’d raped his sister. That is a disgusting human being. And no, I am not saying Kroy is without blame here, either. I never understood that relationship or marriage, honestly. I tried to respect her choices, I’ve tried to think of positive spins on her; she’s unashamedly herself, no matter how awful and amoral that self may be–but then I think about her offering her teenaged daughter up for a blow-job for John Legend tickets for the same son and you really begin to wonder what the hell was going on in that house? My sympathies are for the other children, frankly. As for Andy Cohen, he continues to show himself the worst kind of gay man, using and humiliating women and making them grovel for crumbs from his table.

Sigh.

I did send out my newsletter yesterday morning, and it got a mostly good reception, I wondered, because it was a reflection of 9/11 and the way this entire century has seemed so regressive ever since, even while some rights were gained, far many more were lost. (you can read it by clicking here.)

This weekend was good so far, overall, and I feel rested and good. I hope to get the rest of the apartment cleaned and tidied today–probably will do that during the Saints game–and I even reorganized the refrigerator, which was way overdue.

And on that note, I am getting another cup of coffee and making some breakfast before I head over to my chair and read for a bit. I hope to get some writing done, too–but…Saints game. See you here tomorrow morning, Constant Reader!

You know, he didn’t lose until he wore a T-shirt underneath to hide his nipples. Just sayin’.
  1. If you’re a friend of Taylor Lorenz, you’re a racist piece of shit, too. Hope this helps, Keith. ↩︎

Forbidden Love

Saturday morning and there’s football today! LSU plays tonight, in Death Valley as Louisiana Tech drops in for a visit. What will we see tonight as opposed to last week? I guess we’ll wait and see. There are good, interesting games pretty much all day today, too–so I’ll probably have the telvision on while I do things. I did some chores yesterday, but my mind kept wandering. I finished my 9/11 remembrance newsletter, and decided to schedule it for this morning rather than sending it out last night. I’ll share the link here tomorrow, and it’ll wind up on my socials, too. Is that how you say it? I am really terrible at using social media to promote myself.

I didn’t sleep well last night–never went into the deep restful sleep I generally have, so am a little bit rung out. Yesterday was a good day, for all my mind wanderings. I couldn’t stay focused on anything yesterday–not the worst thing in the world–but was able to get some chores done, and the house is looking much better overall this morning, which pleases me. I ran my errands (which included picking up my pre-ordered copy of Laurie R. King’s latest, Those Who Are Gone, and it’s always a delight having the new King on hand) and rested and relaxed for most of the day when I wasn’t cleaning or working on the laundry. I also started watching South Pacific but turned away after a bit when my mind started wandering again–there will definitely be more later–and I found old episodes of Flipper on Youtube (it’s a long story, but more on that later) so I watched the first episode. (It was sadly terrible in an almost comic way.) I also caught up on Real Housewives of Orange County, the worst of the housewives shows, but somehow I still wind up hate-watching.

I decided to give Scream Queens another try, too. We started watching it years ago, but I didn’t enjoy it because I hated both Emma Roberts and Lea Michele with a passion and refused to watch after seeing the pilot, but I don’t mind either so much anymore, so I thought why not give it another try and this time, the humor actually hit, so I am going to keep watching when Paul’s not around, because he doesn’t care to watch it–but he was laughing with me while I watched, but went back upstairs after a little while.

I wasn’t happy to be proven right this week about James Talarico, but his eager willingness to oppress trans people to appease bigots was no surprise to me.. I never trusted him, and if he does make it into the Senate, mark my words–another Sinema or Fetterman, watch and see. The way he allowed his supporters to come for Jasmine Crockett and said nothing while they undermined her as “unelectable” but now are screaming for her to help him win the race. SHe’s held him at arm’s distance since the primary, and now I have to wonder if it was more than “hurt feelings” (as the white leftists who dragged her for filth now “want to unite”–they won’t, but we need to, and am sick of it; I for one will never forgive them for calling me pro-genocide because I was voting for Kamala. Imagine the fucking nerve of some privileged straight asshole in their twenties saying that to a gay man in his sixties who survived the 80s. Fuck them now, fuck them then, and fuck them forever) and if she knew more than she was letting on. He sure threw the trans folk under the bus without a hesitation or a second thought, once it was convenient and he thought it would get him votes. You can never trust a Christian, and until it’s no Christians–it’s all fucking Christians. I do not trust him on marriage equality or any other queer equality measures. He’s not even bothering to pretend anymore. What other progressive stances is he going to walk back now for political expedience?

So much for his “christian” love.

We could have had Jasmine Crockett, and no one will ever convince me that they weren’t racists…because they sure had no problem with dog-whistles and bald-faced lies. I am no fan of Hakeem Jeffries, but when you have leftists basing their attacks in racist language? Miss me forever. You cannot be progressive and racist, period. If you are a bigot, you cannot be progressive. Please note: the leftists also are not condemning those racists, and–they have no interest in marginalized populations, so they’re basically asking us to trade oppressors. I voted Democratic for years, even when they weren’t much better on queer rights than Republicans; but that’s not the case anymore. If leftists can throw a hissy fit during a presidential election and not vote (or voted for Trump), I am going to do the same. I won’t be holding my nose and voting for the lesser of two evils anymore when the lesser keeps spitting in my face and telling me it’s raining.

After all, isn’t this the example the leftists have set for all of us? It’s their way or Armageddon? Good luck getting bigots elected without the Black vote–because they aren’t forgiving you for not voting blue no matter who, especially when you’re saying that to them now. And way to piss on the queer community. I don’t trust that wolf in sheep’s clothing, and never will. He showed us this week who he really is–a lying backstabbing opportunist ready to sacrifice marginalized communities at the drop of a hat for power.

Such a good Christian.

You can never go wrong not trusting a straight white christian man. I’ve certainly found that to be true, over and over again–real Christians are the ones who aren’t trying to convert everyone or preach in the streets, per the New Testament.

Faith without works is dead, and Talarico can go fuck himself with a razor-wire studded vibrator. What Christian kicks a marginalized community in the teeth like this?

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and going on my day. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will be back here in the morning.

Don’t Stop

Midweek already? Time has no meaning to me anymore, really. It’s going to be October long before I’m ready for it. How crazy is that? I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around it being football season already. There are some good games this weekend (LSU is playing Louisiana Tech), like Alabama-Georgia and Oklahoma-Michigan and Ohio State-Texas, and isn’t it early in the season for marquee match-ups like that? I guess the SEC is going to decide this week whether to expel LSU or not; Greg Sankey has never liked having his power questioned. But one thing is for sure: the NCAA started all of this NIL/paying players thing without covering every base, and the most positive outcomes from this will be answering unresolved questions about eligibility. It’s really hard to argue against eligibility for people who signed professional contracts but never played or got paid when they can get paid in college. I thought the mentality behind this whole pay-the-players thing was to encourage playing college for four years…you can’t really tell someone “well, you signed a contract to get paid, which means you can no longer get paid at the collegiate level,” can you? Make it make sense. There needs to be a more clearly defined rule, is all–and if they didn’t think coaches would push their limits, they thought wrong. As a very biased LSU an, I try not to voice opinions about these things when they involve LSU because my instinct is always to defend my team–it feels like someone telling you your dog is ugly–but in removing emotion (or trying to) and only using logic tells me that it’s actually a problem that needs a definitive answer–which everyone seems to be hedging on by turning it into an “LSU problem” when the reality is that decisions should be in the best interests of, I don’t know, the actual players? Actual courts of law inevitably rule against the NCAA, which is why the system is so broken. If they kick LSU out, so be it–but don’t think our governor and attorney general will let that sit, and honestly? Every time Janky Jeff and the Lizard insert their sticky hands into anything, they make everything worse–and they aren’t very smart to begin with; they’re just stupid, lazy, and corrupt with no issues abusing their own petty power. I mean, they sell out their constituents every chance they get, and it really bothers me that they’ll never face any consequences for their abuses of power.

The week already seems off to me, because it’s again a short one. I have to see my doctor on Friday, and I have a meeting that morning. Maybe we’re going to Costco? I don’t know. But the good news is I started writing a short story yesterday for one of these anthology calls I’m interested in; whether I am able to finish it and turn it in on time for consideration is another story (which is why I have so many partial stories in the files; I’ll start writing one for an anthology but not finish it, and then years later I’ll find it, can’t remember why I started it, but will finish it and get it published–this is what happened with “The Sound of Snow Falling”, which is coming out in Unloaded 3 this fall. It’s very creepy, and there’s no corpse. (Well, creepy and disturbing if I make it work the way I want it to; we’ll just have to see, won’t we?

I see that Ben Shelton managed to beat Carlos Alcaraz last night after I went to bed. I’ve not really gotten into the US Open that much this year, but…I love watching good tennis, but I don’t feel connected to any players, other than Carlos, but seeing the rise of so many young Americans on both the men’s and women’s sides is kind of exciting. It’s been a while since we’ve had any Americans on the rise. (Although I do always enjoy watching Novax lose.)

I watched a short video the other day about the murder of Jesse Valencia in Columbia, Missouri (he was a student at the university), and there were so many twists and turns before the murderer was identified–and as always with a gay murder, repression and the closet played a major role in the case. There’s a novel there, but I have to wrap my mind around it to get the story and point of view I would want to use. I have often thought about how dangerous it is to be gay, and how many of us go home from clubs and bars and parties with someone we just met and know nothing about; it’s a wonder more of us aren’t murdered, to be honest. A serial killer, for example, could kill plenty of gay male hook-ups before anyone even noticed–and if he’s hot, they’d never think twice about leaving with him–which, of course, is something I’m exploring in a in-progress novel that may be finished some day.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. It’s even Pay the Bills Day, and I completely forgot until just now. Get your head together, Gregalicious! See you tomorrow!

As good looking and sexy as he is, I always find these “here’s my ass!” poses kind of funny, and always wonder if they’re straight and if they know what the photographer is actually going for….

Keep It Together

Saturday!

His Majesty let me sleep late this morning–I did wake up at six and went back to sleep after a glance at the clock–and I feel rested and good. Yesterday was a surprisingly good day, all things considered. I got my work done, got the chores done, we went to Costco, and last night we watched the newest episodes of The Shards and Reacher. I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked; the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and the counters are a mess, too. I have to order some things for delivery this morning, and then I’ll be all set for the weekend. My current plan is to not leave the apartment except to either take out trash (there is quite a bit of it), or to cook out. Next weekend LSU has its first game and it’s Labor Day weekend and it’s Southern Decadence, but this delicate magnolia flower actually can’t really handle standing around in oppressive heat anymore. I didn’t do any reading or writing yesterday, so hope to get to some of that today while I clean up around here and get the house under control. Ambitiously, I want to finish this chapter and a short story draft I’ve been working on, but we’ll see how everything goes. I also want to get out another newsletter this weekend, so I need to decide which draft I am going to finish.

But I do feel pretty good this morning, which is a very lovely sign that the day might be a good one.

Honestly, I’ve been in a bit of a funk this week. I thought it was because of the one-two punch of Dolly Parton and Tim Curry dying, which definitely played a part in it, but it’s also the weekend of the Katrina anniversary, which has always been an subconscious downer and mood-suppressor for me. It’s why I was so low-energy this week and unfocused. (I did enjoy seeing Carrie Underwood getting dragged for the filth she is on Threads and her post about Dolly. She really thought we’d forget her bending the knee for the tangelo toddler; she thought fucking wrong. I also laughed at loud at some stupid show business “journalism” website posting that Kristen Chenowith play Dolly in a bio-pic–the nicest response I saw was “do you want people to actually watch it?”)

This has been rather an interesting week, has it not, for stupidity and bigotries? Good Good now is claiming Callaway set them up to take a hit while buying their stock back at a much lower price because it dropped dramatically in trading price because of the abuser ad, and threatening to sue the. Oh, cute little stupid white boys–welcome to unregulated capitalism, and for being so fucking stupid you trusted a bigger company as a “partner.” You were of use to them until you weren’t. (I suspected this whole thing was manufactured to drop the stock price; you were the idiotic sexist jerks who gift-wrapped it for them.) But I also think it can easily be proven that people were demanding that Callaway abandon the partnership, too. I also love how the “boys” at Good Good (they aren’t men) feel betrayed and cheated and made the patsy–well, the number one rule of the business world is never trust anyone completely; always keep an eye open because they will screw you at the first possible moment, but it all sounds like Good Good trying to cope and shift blame….typical for white people, especially white men who are used to being catered to on everything. Maybe this lesson can make up for that high school diploma and college education you passed up, Garrett Clark, because you are now toxic and so is your brand…and it was all very public.

Good luck to you getting that stain out. But I’m sure you were smart with your big income and didn’t blow it and safely saved some and made some conservative investments with a low but solid and steady return.

Yeah, right!

Milo Yiannopoulos was arrested by ICE yesterday when he flew into New Orleans for his employer’s concert here last night. Mr. “we need millions and millions deported” is now going to be deported because he turned on his original foul lord and master. This is an excellent example of leopards feasting on his face or FAFO. I hope he enjoyed his stay in whatever detention center ICE has set up here, and Louisiana doesn’t concern itself too much for the health and safety of anyone incarcerated…so either they’re using one of the local places (I’ve crossed my finger for Orleans Parish Prison myself, but I’d prefer to see him picking cotton at Angola.) No, I am not celebrating ICE; I still consider them no better than the Gestapo or the STASI. I am, however, enjoying another far-right piece of shit getting exactly what he wanted for other people. I hope he’s banned from the country. Fuck that ex-gay pedo enabler/excuser, now and forever. His mugshot was terrible, and I love the petty bitchery of Homeland Security releasing it. They’re finally detaining the worst of the worst, and the schadenfreude is as delicious as a face is to a leopard.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.

I love this view of the quarter and the river from the window of the Tennessee Williams Suite at the Monteleone Hotel

Fever

Tuesday, and day two of my return to the spice mines. I was a bit groggy yesterday, and felt a bit tired in my legs for some reason, but it wasn’t anything, really. And I certainly had the energy to walk around the office pretty briskly while at work. We were busy in the morning–it’s been awhile–but it slowed down in the afternoon so I could get caught up on paperwork and so forth. We also had a marvelous thunderstorm system move through yesterday afternoon; on my way home it was still sprinkling, and it was wonderfully cool. I went to the post office and made a small grocery run and was home before six, which was also nice. Once I was home, of course, I had to feed Sparky and give him some attention before we put on the new episode of Furious (so damned good), followed by an episode of Outer Banks (so damned silly but strangely entertaining; so what if it doesn’t make sense?) before going to bed for the evening, where I slept very well. I feel pretty good this morning, too—if hungry; this morning’s coffee cake slice did not do the trick this morning; I should have eaten something last night but just didn’t feel up to messing around in the kitchen. Tonight I’ll bake potatoes, I think; I have some mushrooms I need to sauté in butter, too; Kerrygold works marvelously for this, by the way.

Sorry/not sorry about the cattle ranchers and farmers going bankrupt. Were all those liberal tears worth it? You voted for this not once but three times (excuse me, #not all ranchers). You wanted ICE, you wanted no regulations, you wanted a whites’ only country, and you kept what? Like four trans girls from competing in sports? You voted for all of this, you pathetic beta cuck bitches, and look! Here you are with your hands out for socialism. That’s practically communism! (Actually, the government controlling the means of production and market IS communism–so all that foul beef, that may or not be wild horse meat–for the record, you fucking idiots. But hey, wasn’t it fun calling Kamala Harris a whore who slept her way to the top? Is losing your cattle and your land worth screaming “Lock her up” about Hilary Rodham Clinton? You tell my community we were freaks and pedophiles and don’t deserve rights? Why the fuck would I give a shit about bailing your homophobic racists asses out with MY tax dollars. Like the student loan situation–didn’t you all oppose that? Aren’t you concerned about the national debt anymore? You scream at the top of your lungs about it whenever there’s a Democrat in the White House; why so silent when your votes are responsible now for it being so incredibly astronomically raised, higher than ever in history? Oh, no, you’ve got your palms up begging for relief from the taxpayers you gladly mock and vote against all the time? Like student loans, why should the taxpayers be on the hook for your poor choices? You don’t even have the balls to NAME him, like the submissive mongrels you are. No, you blame the government–you can’t even say anything critical of him personally. You’re fucking afraid of a pedophile.

Miss me with your low-T whining, you little bitches. Some MEN you are. Your ancestors would be ashamed and embarrassed, you entitled shits.

This was all in Project 2025, by the way. Everything that has happened since he was sworn in last year is straight out of Project 2025; you know, the thing they all lied to you about so you wouldn’t read it…but you were too busy “owning the libs.” Good job. Now someone else is going to own your land and you’ll be homeless and on the dole. Come on guys! Aren’t you the “pull yourself up by your bootstraps real men who don’t need anyone” types? Seriously, go fuck yourselves now and forever.

I was also highly amused to see that the Tate Brothers had to admit to a court that they are broke, they don’t own any of the properties or cars or jewelry they paraded around on-line to give unfuckable young men something to cling to since the world is “so unfair to them!” Whatever happened to “nobody ever said life was fair?” Has anyone checked on the incels today? What with Spider-man whomping on Jake Lang1 this weekend, the collapse of the Tate Brothers…can the collapse of the bros and the so-called man-o-sphere (cuck-o-sphere is more accurate) be far behind?

We started watching Lanterns this weekend, too, and I’m enjoying it. I do like both Kyle Chandler and Aaron Pierre (my God that man is beautiful), and I’ve always liked Green Lantern (I pretend that execrable film with Ryan Reynolds never happened). The show has a kind of slow burn feel to it, and I like that a lot.

I was pleased to see that Nicholas Hoult has bowed out of the TERF Queen’s tv show because of “scheduling conflicts”…I saw someone on-line said, “Yeah, the scheduling conflict was a phone call from an angry James Gunn asking him, why are you buttfucking my Superman sequel?” I, for one, was perfectly willing to never see anything he’s in again–I’ve been a big fan since Warm Bodies–but…he’s still kind of tarnished with homophobic slime, now. I don’t think I’ll ever be as big a fan of his again. His replacement can’t act anyway and mostly looks constipated–so no loss not watching him in anything again…which I’d pretty much decided after Pompeii already. Pompeii was exponentially worse than all of the Twilight movies combined. And I fucking despise Twilight with the white hot passion of a dozen burning suns.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am going straight home from work tonight, no stops, and hope to get the kitchen under control. I’ll be back tomorrow, of course. See you then!

I took this picture from the upper balcony at the Times-Picayune office on St. Charles; Paul and I were there for their Friday night before Mardi Gras parade party. I just love how it turned out.
  1. And why is someone with an ankle monitor able to travel so freely between states? Who is bankrolling him? Inquiring minds want to know. ↩︎

White Heat

Pay my bills, pay my telephone bills, pay my bi-ills….

There’s always a song cue in my life; and every time Pay the Bills Wednesday rolls around, I always hear “Bills, Bills, Bills” by Destiny’s Child in my head, even though the song is about a leech boyfriend, not losing a lot of your paycheck to bills…but that big Entergy bill is worth every penny in the summer. I have to say air conditioning is a gift from heaven that we should not turn out backs on, or scoff at. Now that the air is working again in my car, it’s made a huge difference. I wasn’t sweaty and crabby when I got home from work yesterday; I felt good. Maybe it was also because I remembered the injection was due on Monday (I forgot Monday with all the car stuff), and did it yesterday morning? I don’t know, I don’t need to know why I feel so much better, but all of these things could easily be related. Feeling how the car a/c works now has me wondering how long the a/c wasn’t functioning properly? It took that truly nasty heat dome thing to make me finally realize something was wrong with it.

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day. I only added 300 words last night to the book, but that’s because I know the rest of the chapter is going to be hard. (This is the part when I’m on deadline when I just type finish this scene later, which always makes me want to cry to the heavens when the deadline is soon and I get to that in the revision…I know I am not the only person who does this, either.) But I do feel like the better I am feeling, the easier the writing is going to be? Does that make sense?

Are all these heterosexual hockey romance shows doing as well as Heated Rivalry did? I know they aren’t a cultural phenomenon the way the queer hockey show and I literally have seen no conversations about any of them, anywhere. So typically Hollywood to get the wrong message, isn’t it? “People must have watched for the hockey! IMAGINE if the romances were STRAIGHT? We’ll be printing money!” Yeah, no, that’s not the right lesson….but at least when those shows fail, we won’t get blamed for them; which may make them think even deeper about Heated Rivalry’s virality, but I doubt it. They’ll just think it was a fluke, or it was the cast. Which is good for the cast, of course, but not so much those of us who want to see same-sex relationships. But these are the people who saw the huge success of Barbie and thought the takeaway was “more toy movies!” No, it meant you finally gave women a reason to go to the movies and they turned up in droves…as well as anyone else who wanted to see a good film with a feminist message critiquing modern society and culture.

It’s astonishing how bad Hollywood can be at originality and creativity. Billy Wilder would be making pictures for television now if he were in his prime currently because his movies wouldn’t be seen as bankable.

Can I just say that Abdul el-Sayed is hot, hot, hot? Then again, he’s also very smart and quick on his feet, which is even more hot, in my opinion. Interesting, though how the centrist battle–cry of vote blue no matter who only applies, apparently, to white straight men. These are the same kind of Democrats who tried to water down the New Deal and did water down the Affordable Care Act…even if we do take congress back this fall from the Unwashed Flat Ass Party doesn’t mean they’ll accomplish anything because, well, Fetterman and other Democrats like him. There’s always at least one Trump sympathizer running for the Senate to sabotage any and everything and to completely back him (looking at you, racist Vindman with the skank wife in Florida), because we will always have the Sinema and Manchin sell-outs (I really hope the rest of her life is even more miserable than she deserves, and she should never go out in public without being heckled; same with Manchin. I hate her, more, though, not because she’s a woman because she’s an out bisexual who stabbed her own community in the back repeatedly to stand with McConnell and Trump like the syphilitic quisling skank1 she is.)

Furious is really good, y’all. It goes far beyond the usual “FBI agent starts tracking serial killer” trope, by getting more deeply into who Alice Black is as a character, why she left the police, and why she is the way that she is–cold, driven, thoroughly professional without empathy, which can be hard to watch when she’s interrogating a teenager who witnessed her father’s murder–but we know why she’s the way she is…she is working her way through PTSD from an abusive relationship, and it’s an extraordinary performance by the always underrated Emmy Rossum. And given the motivations of the killer, I’m not really sure she qualifies as a serial killer–because, yes, the bodies are piling up, but their connection is through her having been trafficked as a child…so yes, she is a very clever and vicious killer, but at the same time she is a victim and her tormentors are horrible people who would never see justice for what they did…another stinging indictment of our society and culture, really.

Injustice for one is injustice for all. I was taught that in grade school. I guess my public education was “woke,” even as it indoctrinated us all in white supremacy and American Exceptionalism.

I am very sorry to add Nicholas Hoult, whom I’ve enjoyed watching since Warm Bodies, to the “dead-to-me-will-never-watch-again” fake queer ally list. Hope your HBO check from the Chatelaine of Castle Hate is worth it. *Cough* Sydney Sweeney *cough*. This is why it is impossible for queer people to ever completely trust straight people–they will always choose their wallets over any “alliance” with a marginalized group. A shame, because I loved Superman, but …no views, clicks, or money from me going forward. The thing these people forget is that we never do. We also never forgive. Even an apology–which won’t be coming, believe you me–and withdrawal from the hate project won’t suffice for me.

You see, I believe people when they tell me who they are. Bye bye, Felicia! You’re not an ally if you’re only one when it doesn’t affect your bottom line. Thanks but no thanks.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you tomorrow

I’ve had a crush on gorgeous Latino hunk/actor/model William Levy since he was on Dancing with the Stars…can you blame me?
  1. Bisexual erasure is bad enough without skanks like her making them all look bad. ↩︎

Love Without Words

Saturday, August 1, and coniglio! Coniglio!

Let’s see if that works; it did for Trixie Belden in The Mystery of the Emeralds.

It’s Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment. Sparky got me up before seven this morning–His Majesty was HUNGRY–and I decided to get up and feed him. Once I was out of the bed, I decided to get cleaned up and get going on my day. Yesterday sucked–I won’t go into the details, but suffice it to say the a/c in my car still isn’t working and I need to take it to another place first because some “body work” needs to be done, and it really doesn’t sound cheap–but I am shaking it off today. I’ve never had to spend much money on this car since buying it and it’s been about ten years. So, let it go, I can’t do anything about it until Monday, anyway, and why let that spoil my weekend when I have free time, I still feel good, and tomorrow we’re going to go see the new Spider-Man movie. So, lots to look forward to, and today I am going to try to get some stuff done around here. I need to order groceries for delivery (too hot to drive there and back), and I need to get the house back under control again. It’s not that bad, but the last couple of days I’ve let things slide a bit. I did read some of my book yesterday, and it’s really fantastic. We caught this week’s Sugar, and I think tonight we’ll dive into The Vampire Lestat.

I also have those Emily Wilson translations to dip into, as well. And a newsletter to get out, but them not going out consistently has been an issue from the first, and I do suspect the only person I am actually disappointing with any of this is me, you know? But they are fun to write, and while I do forget things I wanted to say in them from time to time, and I don’t proof them as thoroughly as I should before they go out, but I am also not going to get anxious or stressed about them. Paul is going to work with his trainer today and then is going to ride the bike at the gym, so I should have the entire afternoon to myself for downtime, reading and writing and more cleaning. Why is there always more cleaning to do? Heavy heaving sigh. I did decide to treat myself to a long birthday weekend this month, so I have my birthday and the Friday after to accept that I am officially elderly. It doesn’t bother me (much); it’s more shocking to me that I made it this far, with so much stacked against me. Making it to 65 as a gay man in this country was no small accomplishment, but honestly? Pure damn luck. I made it through the HIV pandemic without getting infected–miracle of miracles, especially when it seemed so damned unlikely any of us would make it through with anything other than PTSD and guilt. (The guilt has always been tough for me to deal with–why me? Why did so many wonderful and talented and brilliant people die? And yes, I’ve been thinking about this since the circus the other day with Dr. Fauci, whose true crime to conservatives is that he helped stop gay men from dying.)

Maybe I do see homophobia everywhere, but you know what? That’s what it almost always is–enough times that it’s not a surprise when that does turn out to be the case.

It also pleases me to no end to see Tom Holland and Zendaya starring in the two biggest movies of the summer. I’ve always liked her, and of course, his lip-sync to Rihanna made me a life long fan of our short king. He is also one of the rare examples of a child star who grew up into a successful and always working adult actor/star.

I was also amused to see the Department of Justice and that pig Jeannine Pirro had to drop charges against “reflecting pool vandals” when it turned out to be a result of shoddy installation on a (surprise!) a no-bid contract for one of the Harkonnens’ friends? Everything the Baron said about the reflecting pool was a lie (as everyone with a brain and one working eye could see), and his minions jumped in line–against all reason, against all sanity, and above all else, against the Constitution–to snap to his insane logic and mentality and excuses. His supporters should never be allowed in public again without being shamed for the bootlicking quislings they are. (I laugh every time they call him “Daddy”–showing they are all fucking betas and will roll over, ass end up in the air ready for his penetration) Karoline Leavitt and Jeannine Pirro will go on to jobs at Fox, next to Sophie “Maga Skipper” (Barbie would never) Cunningham.

And when this is finally all over? Watch the centrist Dems try to close the book and “move on.” We saw this after the Bush Crime Syndicate left office in 2009, and way back when the Republicans sold out southern Blacks for political power. (They haven’t changed from what they became under Grant.)

What this country has allowed itself to become makes me appreciate that I am old, and I do not ever wish I were younger. Ever. And I wouldn’t go back in time even if I could.

And on that note, I am going to get some more coffee and take my book over to my easy chair. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

I’ve always loved stained glass. I played with it as a hobby in my twenties, but could never ever dream of doing something so artistic.