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.
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.