Tag Archives: gays

Leaving Bayonne – The Gays

Personal Bits, Queer stuff, Travel

On a ship of 3300 passengers, you’d probably think that some were gay. If you subscribe to the 1 in 10 theory then there should have been at least 300 gay people. Three hundred butch fems or flamboyant floaters should not be hard to find in two weeks of sailing.

As we were in line for embarkation in Bayonne, I scanned the crowd to see if any sisters were coming on board with us. PING went my Gaydar and I spied two gentlemen travelling together and wearing near identical jeans, t-shirts and male pattern baldness. Dead giveaway. As our line to the check in desk snaked by them a couple times I made three official efforts to catch their eye and smile, with the hopes of striking up a conversation.

All three times was met with them turning their back to us after a cautionary glance. Snubbed, but not let down I started to look around for more family. Fuck you, dudes, we’re not cruising, we’re being friendly!

Our first breakfast in the main dining room had us randomly seated with two women in their 70s on a bus/cruise tour who asked me outright if we were brothers. SharkBoy was not part of that conversation so I said “Yes,” and proceeded to let that lie fester in their heads a moment. I wondered if they wondered what the hell two brothers in their 40s were doing out on a cruise…

Two other occasions we were asked if we were brothers by passengers. I would say yes and hold onto SharkBoy’s arm in a confusing/awkward display of affection.

By day 7 I had given up looking through the crowd for possible homo contact and turned off my Gaydar. SharkBoy says there were at least two other couples on board that he could tell (I never saw them) and one lovely lad who was taking his mother on a trip (questionable at best but that just stank of a Tennessee Williams play). There was a bespectacled lesbian we sat with a couple times at breakfast (rainbow tattoos on her forearms!) but she refused to offer up anything other than “hello” and “see ya!”, but I expect she was painfully shy. The two guys spied at the top of the cruise still refused to make eye contact and I decided that they were on some sort of relationship rebuilding vacation after one of them admitted to a terrible admission to sex addiction.

Not that I wanted to be on a gay cruise. If I wanted to be surrounded by my own I would have booked an all exclusive vacation but to tell the truth, I have no desire to run with my own. Sorry StevieB, but I’m what The Advocate calls “Self Hating”. After years of working in a bar I can’t imagine an all gay vacation let alone being trapped on a boat for any amount of time with rainbow beaded, whistle blowing, Aussie Bum wearing party queens. Sure I’ve travelled en mass with other gays and have even done Gay Days twice at Disney World but, for me, to “travel gay” is like living in the gay village – ghetto gets you nowhere. You really need to get out there to experience other things. That being said, I was missing a bit of the old catty banter that comes with a fruity drink in your hand and a good gay by your side. Especially since we were in such a ripe environment for ridicule.

As we left Antigua (after the Prickly Pear Island) SharkBoy and I were up on the top deck watching the boat leave the island. SharkBoy says “This is a really good vacation, considering.” I know he means that despite the uncooth masses, he (we!) were having a good time. And I thought to myself “It is. A bit lacking in the gay companionship department…”

Suddenly a crew member came and stood beside us at the railing. We started to talk and within moments he revealed that he had a boyfriend on another ship within the fleet and that they were considering moving their home to Toronto. We spend a very long time talking as the ship sailed out and he told us a lot of stories which I will not repeat here to keep his anonymity. Not that he was shy about his status and his partner, he offered first, but I’m not one to leave trails of career shattering evidence all over the internet. He had us fascinated and laughing at the same time with stories of ship operations and shenanigans. It was a nice gay island in the vacation of gaylessness.

Pride Tips for Out of Towners, 2009 Edition

Queer stuff, Toronto, Travel

ketchup_prideSo you’ve decided to visit Toronto and enjoy it’s #2 outdoor attraction (second only to The Beaches Jazz Festival, according to their site).  Regardless of who tells you their numbers are numero uno, Toronto Pride reels in a crapload of cash for the city (The Gay Community has it’s own subsection on Toronto’s tourism website – take THAT Caribana!). It’s a good idea to research your options before opening your wallet and organize your fun before hitting the street.

That’s where I come in! Hello tourist! So glad I could help!

You may recall my article last year: Pride Tips for Out of Towners. I’m bitter happy to report that not much has changed. The bar you are drinking in will have a draconian liquor inspector grumpily wander through to see if they can make some money in fines. And some circuit party will try to seduce you with their glossy posters of near-naked men, but there will be a chance that you choose incorrectly and spend $95 to find you’re not at  the “A-List” bash and wind up with a crowd that looks more at home at a Phish concert. The Parade tips still hold true (early, sunblock, elbows), as do the street crowd crush. Don’t forget that “bagging and bedding a Torontonian” is still a bit like coaxing a snipe out of the bushes. We seem to have tightened our shy little cocoons around ourselves during this long, cool spring! All I reported last year are still valid tips. Take heed!

At this time I need to reiterate my number one peeve about Pride: You should NOT, repeat NOT eat at any restaurant on Church Street during Pride. Eat from a hot dog cart (blarg!), bring your own food, starve, devour your travel companion or gnaw on your own foot. Do not eat at any Church Street restaurant.

Wait… I think I need to nail that home:

DO NOT EAT AT ANY CHURCH STREET
RESTAURANT THAT IS LOCATED ON
CHURCH STREET DURING PRIDE

Got it? Just want to let you know. All restaurants will take you in their arms, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, thrust a pre-set menu in your hands and then jizz in your face while rifling through your wallet for your cash. And not in a good way.

Here’s a list of restaurants that are off the strip and worth your money:

Daybreak – This place is popular, pricey but has big portions. At the corner of Carlton and Church, just outside the Village.

Studio – When Daybreak is full, two doors south is this crumbly greasy spoon. Cheap alternative great for breakfast.

The Coachhouse – Same as The Studio, but over on Yonge and Wellesley. Greek twist on a diner.

Chew Chews, Johnny G’s and Gourmet Burger – Three Cabbagetown options that are a little walk away from the Village.

Sizzler – Late Late night burger place with baby sized meat patties at Yonge and College. Not much to look at but BABY SIZED BURGERS!! Late at night!!!

Olympic Pizza – Been in the village forever. Consistently good but unremarkable Italian food the recipe for a great restaurant!

Tokyo Grill / Okanomi House – uncommon Japanese food (read: NOT sushi).

Ginger – Not the one on Church, but over at Yonge and Bloor, there’s an outlet that will most likely not fuck you for cash. Great non-restauranty hot and sour soup.

Oja Noodle House – Right beside a pricey “EggRoll” restaurant. Dishes more authentic and way cheaper. Charles and Yonge.

That’s a good start. Yonge at Bloor has had an explosion of Asian Fusion dining places. All seem “good” if not a bit dollar-y.

New tips? Got a couple!

Photography

photo5In some cases it’s polite to ask if you can take pictures of random hot guys/gals/gender-fucks, but in most cases it doesn’t matter – cameras are everywhere during Pride and if you’re shy, stay the fuck home! But asking for a photo is not only as polite as a Canadian in a foreign land, it’s an excellent way to break the ice.  So if you do go this route, may I suggest little business cards with your Twitter/Flickr/Facebook page URL on it so you can ensure your subject can view your work later when they’re at home slathering on the aloe vera. And for those people you were jokingly taking a picture of (“Good lord that outfit!! I must ridicule it online tonight!“) and get caught doing so, may I suggest a separate card with www dot lemonparty dot org on it.

Street Escape Routes

I failed to mention last year that to avoid the crush that is the uncomfortably crowded street in front of Woodys and the parking lot Beer Tent (Church and Maitland), the Pride Committee has smartly enshrined the alleyways behind these two venues open for easier access past this bottle neck. There are similar North-South routes between East-West streets if you need to dash up Church Street. Any Pride volunteer will gladly point them out.

Texting

Keep your cell phone charged. The crowds are so large you will want to know where your friends are. Twittering may not be such a good idea since it goes down more often than a career drag queen 2 days before rent is due. Thankfully iPhone users will have MMS texting by then and you can send your friends your location (or trick’s face) for group approval.

And lastly:

Your Outfit

Please take some time to consider what you will wear. Feather boas are for straight boys who were dragged to Pride by their girlfriends. Outrageous drag is fine, but consider it will be hot and you may be outside for some time. Melty creatures does not equal funny drag. You’ll scare children. May I recommend something clever yet not too noticable…

Whatever you do, enjoy your Pride. If you see me, say Hi!

Riverdale Drama

Celebs and Media

daddyhowcouldyouAfter decades, Archie finally decides who he wants to deflower.

Veronica? Really?

I can see a future Archie comic, produced by the sinister Dark Horse publishing, where we’re sent 10 years into the future. Veronica’s dad, Mr Lodge, has suffered a massive stroke and is hanging on by life support. Archie is a scotch swilling bitter yesman, hired into Lodge Industries purely by matrimony. He’s approaching his middle age (and middle age spread) and is unable to access Mr Lodge’s vast fortune until he shuffles off this mortal coil. Jughead is a common street thug now and is hired by Archie to pillow-party Mr Lodge’s face. Pratfalls and close calls with hospital guards ensue.

Meanwhile, Veronica is a pill popping socialite with more plastic surgery scars than Mickey Rourke, schtupping Reggie in the back of his dog grooming business. She spills Archie’s plan in the throws of passion and Reggie decides to rat him out to the police, convince Veronica to divorce Archie and marry her to obtain the cash. He celebrates by going to the local gay bar.

Meanwhile, Big Ethel and Jughead, living in sin of course, devise a plan to harvest Mr Lodge’s organs for drug money once the job is done.

Midge, meanwhile, checks herself into a battered wives hostel after her last confrontation with Moose.

Meanwhile, Mayor Betty has become hardened by her lonely solitude and unrequited love of Archie, and has instructed Dilton to fire up the extremely experimental particle accelerator so they can start selling cheap energy to the rest of the state. Moose, dreaming of his glory days on the gridiron, throws one too many switches and all is thrown into a black hole.

The Lesson: From Root To Twit

Personal Bits

It’s 1996 and I’m working in a quiet cafe just inside the doors of a fading gay favorite gym called The Bloor Valley Club. All the members had to cut through my dining area to get to the change rooms or the cardio area, giving me a great vantage point for people watching. In the spring of that year a regular to the gym started to slowly, shyly, order snacks and cappuccinos from me and in doing so, started friendly small talk.

He was a nice guy. We started to talk about books and books into movies and theatre. We talked about music and pop culture and various gossip. We would make comments at the day time TV playing over the bar and confess our secret shames in the love of soap operas. We would shout out answers to quiz shows and try to outsmart each other. He was sharply funny and subtly witty and could smile easily. You can guess where this is leading: after several weeks of chatting, when he inevitably asked me out on date, I turned him down.

Why? Because he had long hair.

He had a slight goatee, stunning blue eyes and was over 6’2″. Because he was a regular to the gym, I noted that he had tree trunk legs and I could get glimpses of chest hair through his workout clothes. But I couldn’t get past the shoulder-blade length hair! His mane wasn’t ratty or look pre-Tyra makeover or anything, it was just long. At the time I was trying to pigeon hole my tastes into a well defined scheme: skinheads and ubermacho tattooed motorcycle freaks. I was so hell bent on self conditioning I couldn’t see myself being with any other type of guy.

I let him down rather inelegantly too. I did let him know I only dated smoothed headed dudes because of a “shaving” fetish I claimed to have at the time. I don’t recall his reaction but I do remember there was an awkward silence after my shot through his heart. I remember him walking away in disappointment.

A week or so passed and I was doing waitressy things, as one does when they work in a small restaurant. The front door opened and down the hallway towards the cafe came a tall, goatee’d man with the slightest 5 o’clock shadow adorning his genetically perfect cranium. Of course, my whoremoans went into overload as time slowed down as he walked towards me like a hot chick in a Michael Bay movie. Yes, it was my “friend”. He had cut all his hair off and had gone skinhead. He. Looked. Amazing.

I know my eyes said “HELLO!” and I think I said, “Hello!” and he leaned in close and said: “This is what you’re missing.”

And never said another word to me ever again.

Best of Clist – Helpful!

General

Insert RAM jokes here

Naked computer repair / service call by hung man
I offer training sessions were I can teach you how to use certain things on your computer and online from downloading your entertainment to running social pages like MySpace and face book. I can give your computer a tune up so it runs fast again. I check your computer properly for viruses. I can also set up your new computer and transfer over some of the old information you want to keep from your previous system. Well I repair your system I do it in the nude or can dress to your taste. I am a well endowed man. This is a paid computer service call. I am not an escort. I have an average build I am mostly straight but comfortable with my body and I am willing to fix any ones computer in the nude. I travel to you and I can arrange evening appointments to fit your scedual. So why not treat yourself and get more out of your repair mail me for pics and any questions.

My own Korova Milk Bar Fixture

I Can Be Adjusted
Are you a white male that loves to watch TV and have a human footstool under your feet? If you are straight that is fine. If you do not want to have sex that is fine as well. I can be naked or wear clothes. Do you have a buddy and want to play cards together? I can lay on the ground and the both of you can put your feet on me. I will massage them and pamper them. Why rest them on the floor when you can rest them on a live carpet? If you are gay then even better. You can read a book while you ignore me under your feet or do work on your computer while I lay on the floor.
If you want you can watch porn & I will give you the best blow job ever. You do not need to suck me.

All Hallow’s Eve Pt2

Distractions

A meme from The Electronic Replicant so fitting, I can’t pass it up:

What were you last year for Halloween?
Rarrr!
A Luchadore. Often imitated. Often better than yours.

What are you going to be this year?

You Tell Me…

Favorite costume you have ever worn?
For attention, I’ve never got as much as the wrestler. I do remember my sister trying to get me into a Mummy costume and bailing on me when she got half way through. Too many bandages for her attention span.

How do you spend your Halloween?
Lately, on Church Street. I’m a people watcher at heart. But the desire to dress up overtakes that a bit.

Are you or are you not going trick or treating this year?
I hope to trick. Nyuck nyuck.

Did or do you pull Halloween pranks?
I tried to scare my mom once when I was 9 or 10 but being the last of 5 kids, she’d seen it all: the dummy in the chair in a dark room, the panicked yelling of “John’s been hit by a car”, the lawn dart in the back for real…

Do you believe in ghosts?
Sort of. I had a sink tap turn itself on full blast when I worked in a 170 year old jail converted into a traveller’s hostel. Last place in Canada to have a public hanging. Spooky.

Are you superstitious?
I’m not. But I do pray to the fates when I want something.

Do you like caramel popcorn?
Duh.

Have you ever gone in the country to look for pumpkins?
I’ve gone into the country looking like a pumpkin. Gay camping and over-tanning does that.

Have you ever been on a hayride?
I’ve been in a Corn Maze.

Do you decorate your home for Halloween?
First time this year. Mostly cat-safe candles.

Have you ever been to a haunted house?
Where do you live?

Have you ever been to a graveyard on Halloween?
Nope. Too stupid and scared.

Have you ever attended a Halloween party?
Where do you live?

Do you watch scary movies on Halloween?
Not lately. Too busy.

Have you ever had your candy stolen from you?
Yes. At the age of 12. The guy I was with took off suddenly and my costume (I forget what I was) didn’t offer up much notice that there were big kids bearing down on us. I was tackled wondering why my friend was racing away from me. I hope the fucker (friend and big kid) is diabetic now.

Did you ever steal any ones candy?
Nope. I was a wimp.

Has anyone ever gotten hurt due to your prank?
What prank?

Have you ever dressed as a witch/warlock?
No. I wanted to be Sci Fi all the way.

Are your parents into Halloween?
When I was 16, my dad and I went to a department store and bought a pair of those cheap vinyl kids jumpsuit costumes with the tounge-cutting slitty mouths. We squeeezed into them and headed out to the apartment upstairs for the apartment building’s party. By the time we climbed the stairs, the seams had burst and we were basically in our underwear. With masks. Dad was Captain America. I was Wonder Woman.

Standing Up

Distractions, Improv/Comedy

Sunday night I was able to tick off a point on my Bucket List, if I actually had a list:

I finally did stand up comedy.

It wasn’t much more of a stretch from improv although, ironically, I found it much more terrifying to get up in front of an audience with a script than getting up there with no idea what’s coming next.

I got a call from my old teacher Gord asking if I wanted to do 5 minutes of stand up for a wedding benefit for two people from my old improv class. Why he thought I was doing stand up, I don’t know, but without thought, I said “Yes, let’s” (The old improv mantra).

For the past week I’d brainstormed some stuff about weddings and relationships and I had come up with some pretty shocking stuff (A dick! In my ear! I’m never going back to Bed, Bath and Beyond in San Francisco!) until I got an email on Thursday informing all the acts: “Keep it G-Rated, kids in the audience.”

Son of a bitch.

Friday/Saturday I had to salvage as much as I could and re-write. What follows is my kid-friendly (?) wedding-centric set, improvised rifts included (family should know that this is comedy, not truth. Anything I might say I do for laughs and appreciate you allowing me to make fun):

Vangie and Rain (the engaged)! Congratulations! You two aregoing to have so much fun!

(less sincere) So much fun.

Rain & Vangie came to my gay wedding two years ago. Yah, big gay wedding. Great day, I had no regrets on the day, except for the drag queen not being able to perform ’cause she caught fire but that’s another story all together.

Gay marriages are great-

(Two chaps hoot and clap)

My gays! Married? No? When?

Like I said, gay marriages are the best. Straight guys hear me out! No really. Okay there’s an aspect you might gag on, but the best part about marrying a guy is that… Well. You married a guy!

Your sock are all over the living room;

You can equally hate your in-laws (baby doll voice) Christmas is ruined!;

And the toilet seat is in the right position most of the time: up.

That was cliché and I apologize.

The thing about marriage is that it’s the same dynamic no matter what the set up: gay, straight, farmer/goat common law… The same. They’re just re-wired differently for each.

Example: I married a fairly masculine man. He’s no Richard Simmons. Beard, girth, great guy. But yet, as macho he is, we can’t go to a tropical hotel or a camp ground or a cottage without me entering into the bathroom doing reconnaissance with one shoe in my hand. I’m the spider-killer.

And I hate those buggers too.

I’m the slob in our relationship. I mean I pull my weight (wave at gut) but I’m a guy. I get distracted. One moment I’m elbow deep in the toilet, scrubbing away and BAM suddenly I’m playing XBox. The husband walks by the TV room, sees me and says “What the hell are you doing?!” (Baby doll voice) I don’t know how it happened.

After two years we’re still developing these dynamics. Just recently we got a bigger place and I was able to pull my stuff out of storage. Let me tell you that unpacking your stuff in front of each other is exactly like undressing in front of each other for the first time. With the lights on. You really do bare your soul because you’re showing an aspect of your personality.

Rain, I am sure you experienced this, being a sci fi geek. When I was unpacking, I pulled out the 12″ Star Wars Boba Fett action figure and was met with:

“oh.

Uhm.

Sigh.

Siiiiiiggh” (looking around room)

See, in a gay relationship, since we both can decorate, the one who actually decorates is the one who can sigh harder.

And as you repack your action figure, you think to yourself “Welcome to a lifetime of compromise.”

But it’s worth it.

You’re going to experience something not a lot of people get to do. You have another person’s promise of love, respect and commitment. You have their promise that if you say the stupidest thing at a party, you’ll still have someone to go home with.

Hopefully.

And you get to wake up every morning and next to you is someone you know will have your back when things go bad.

And that’s the best feeling in the world.

And so is rolling over and farting on them.

Thank you Rain and Vangie for inviting me tonight and I wish you all the best!