Young, hung, and full of vitriol...

I can't offer works of staggering genius, but what you will get are my sometimes funny, questioningly intelligent, frighteningly vitriolic, occasionally shockingly sweet, but almost always charmingly grouchy ramblings on music, film, politics, society, pop culture, literature, queer life, travel, Kansas City, and the mundane, yet surreal aspects of everyday.

I'm a queer punk country boy in his late 30s, who has settled back in the midwest after a decade or so of living around the country. My boyfriend, MJ and I moved to Kansas City a couple of years ago after an insanely surreal life in rural, southeast Kansas. This is my attempt at getting back into writing after a longer than anticipated hiatus. I'm still a bit rusty, so be gentle with me...A bottle of wine, some Barry White, and a can of Crisco usually does the job.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

I've been so focused on school, life, and my music blogs that I'd kind of neglected/forgotten this place as a form of therapeutic spewing. A friend was visiting for the holidays and gave me a book that focused on writing something every day, regardless of how mundane or trivial. It made me realize how much I miss letting my fingers and mind wander instead of focusing my writing output on school, Tumblr, or Facebook. We'll see...

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Just call me entitled asshole...

If I never hear the term "first world problem" again, it will be too soon. I get it: My husband spent 2 months in the hospital and almost died, hence he isn't allowed to work and is getting jacked around by his disability. I was laid off, am getting fucked over by unemployment, and bust my ass job hunting and going to school full time. I can't sleep at night because I am starting to worry about how we are going to pay bills and whether we may have to move into my parent's basement. So, I get it...it's not nearly as bad as a child starving in Africa or not being able to get clean drinking water. It still really, really fucking sucks and is wreaking havoc on me. I'm a pussy.

Friday, November 11, 2011

My Cock Is a Weapon of Mass Destruction...

i love when people say that "homosex is a threat to national security"…People have always said I was a bit to fixated on my dick, but I had NO idea that my dick was that important.

Queer...

Watching one man shows from Charles Nelson Reilly and Leslie Jordan make me so proud. I don't care how butch or queeny that you are, or how young or old you are.. if you are ignorant enough to think that we should be ashamed of the flamers and drag queens, the bears and dykes, the trannies and leatherfolk, the punks and the gender fuckers...the outcasts are the ones that fought this fight from the beginning...if you think that only clean cut gays that "behave" should represent us...you might want to reconsider...

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Wheat Fields and Nose Rings...

Nostalgia can be a powerful thing. Sad, pathetic, dangerous...but sometimes a beautiful catalyst. I am so tied to my senses when it comes to remembering. There are so many smells, tastes, and especially sounds that trigger something in my head that remind me of being 5, 10, 16, 22...Being such a music fanatic, songs, more than anything hold the biggest power over my memory and mindset. Some songs can trigger a smile, a sigh, and a tear all in a few minutes. While I usually break out stuff from my past when I want that feeling, sometimes I luck out and something that I have never heard before sparks the same response. Tonight I listened to a band called Be Forest that did exactly that. They took me back to being an outcast, sexually confused, too smart for my own good freak. There was a moment in my early-mid teens when I realized that not only was I a weirdo, but that I fully fucking embraced that epiphany. Maybe it was taking a paint pen and dying my hair blue in 6th grade...or making out with Cindy Lucas to the smell of patchouli and Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me on the stereo. It could have been driving across Lawrence, KS at the age of 17 in a car full of fellow freaks listening to "How Soon Is Now?" or making love to my first boyfriend at 19 while listening to some 4AD album. All, I know is how fucking powerful knowing that I didn't give a shit about being popular or fitting in, and that I wouldn't trade being "weird" for anything in the world made me feel. I'm now 37 years old now and I'm sure many people think that I'm too old for my music obsession, or the tattoo on the back of my head, or the hunk of steel in my septum...The truth is that not only is it not something that I really consider...I also don't care. Despite my self esteem issues, my social anxiety, or my OCD...I'm pretty fucking happy with the man that I am right now. I may not have followed the path that I intended and it may not always be easy, but you know what...the weird punk/goth dork that lives inside the hard working, heart-on-my-sleeve man loves that a scent, a book, a film, an album, and a band can make him feel that all over again...That feeling pushes me to never just accept, but to always push and love where I'm headed...

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Another thrilling Saturday night...

I really need to update this and stay more on it. SO much has changed in my life in the last couple of months. For another day...I am contemplating leaving this as my personal blog (and hopefully making it far more interesting) and doing an entirely separate music blog...

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

I've been thinking tonight...

The Westboro Baptist Church are kind of like AIDS...most people didn't give a shit until it started affecting straight people...