Shortbus...Not For The Faint Of Heart

Joining Netflix has allowed me to catch up on movies I've wanted to see but haven't had time to do so. Personally, I hate going to a cinema to watch films. Prices are so outrageous, the seats are usually uncomfortable, the venue usually filthy, oh and let's not forget the obnoxious people! Nah, I'd rather wait until the flick comes out on DVD and view it from the comfort of my own home. Case in point, Shortbus.

I first heard about Shortbus last year when there was so much hype surrounding the graphic nudity and sexual nature in its content. I caught photos and video clips here and there from various blogs, but never gave seeing the movie much though. Living in uber-conservative Central Pennsylvania, besides which, no local arenas would dare enlist a film with questionable content for public viewing. The conservatives would have had a coronary and launched an offense about the lack of decency and immorality of it all. With this in mind, now that I've viewed the film, I can understand what an uproar such a move would have caused.



With Netflix you have to constantly place films in queue so movies are available regularly ensuring there isn't a break in service. I took a chance with Shortbus because I usually enjoy Independent films and am not offended by nudity or displays of sexuality. My personal DVD collection holds "The Dreamers" and "Testosterone," so my concern definitely wasn't over nudity or sex. Renting movies always leaves the chance it won't captivate my attention. Will I develop a connection with the characters? Will it overall be worth the hours I devoted to watching? Fear not, Shortbus, in my humble opinion, was EXCELLENT! Now for my friends out there that won't solicit a film unless there is some face of color, then this movie ain't for you. Mind you, there was only one or two blacks in the entire film and they were regulated to minor, insignificant, parts.



The film focuses on relationships, which,include sexual fulfillment. Shortbus starts off by introducing us to three groups of characters having various sexual activity. James (Jamie), a former hustler, is seen videotaping himself nude in the bathtub, urinating and masturbating. He proceeds to record himself performing auto-fellatio and orgasms into his mouth. Unbeknown to James, a voyeur neighbor, Caleb, from two floors above across the street, witnesses his play. This is all full frontal! Nope, no implied suggestion he is performing the act, you behold the whole kit and caboodle.

After Jamie (James) reaches his climax, his boyfriend, Jamie comes home and almost catches him en flagrante. Jamie is a former child star and current off-Broadway actor ("I'm Albino!" See the film to understand that comment).

A scene cut away we're introduced to Rob and Sophia having mind-blowing intercourse all over their loft apartment in every possible conceived position imaginable. Both acts of oral and vaginal/penile penile sex are shown. Rob can be seen thrusting himself into Sophia; Sophia is seen masturbating Rob and giving him oral as well. Rob is unemployed who volunteers at Meals on Wheels. Sophia, on the other hand, is a licensed sex therapist....er, Couples Counselor, as she prefers the term. Despite the extended sex, we learn Sophia has never, EVER, had an orgasm in her life. The movie also suggests Rob is potentially impotent, but it's not clear, because later on Sophia catches him wanking to Internet porn. Rob most assuredly has an erection!

Finally, Severin is introduced. She's a bisexual dominatrix with artistic ambition. Severin is depicted as a Goth-punk woman who hides behind her alter-ego because she's afraid of not being unique. Later as the movie progresses, you understand why she feels this way.



The story moves along to tell the lives of Jamie (James) and Jamie, who visit Sophia because their relationship has begun to change and they're contemplating opening up their relationship. The three develop a bond when it's revealed Sophia is "preorgasmic." On the advice of the "Jamies," Sophia meets them a club, "The Shortbus," the home of Justin Bond. At this club, anything and every type of sexual expression can be found. Here, Severin and Sophia establish a bond, developing into a working relationship, and later a gradual sense of respect and friendship. Severin helps Sophia on her sojourn for orgasmic bliss and Sophia lures out the creative, unique person inside Severin.


The Shortus club allows us to also meet Ceth, (Seth, spelled with a "C"), out to find his next boyfriend. Ceth gets introduced to the "Jamies" and later becomes the third in James and Jamie's relationship.

The cinema bounces back between the three (four really) character plots of Jamie/James, Sophia/Rob, Severin, and Ceth/Caleb. As it develops everyone becomes interconnected through the Shortbus club. The graphic content settles into the back seat as one becomes one with the storyline and well-being of the main characters. By film's end, I was desperately hoping for a happy resolution to put things to right...I won't spoil the ending. There are a few twists and one or two heart wrenching moments. As suggested it, "We All Get It In The End."




Principally, I give this bold dramatization 9 out of 10 stars. I warn you though, the sex is unequivocally vivid and while I don't think it's pornographic, my friend Mr. Napoleon dismissed the movie as softcore porn with little merit. Naps is just not that deep sometimes! Some may find certain scenes disrespectful or too garish. One in particular has the "Jamie"s and Ceth in a menage a trois and (child actor) Jamie breaks out singing the National Anthem as he is rimming Ceth's ass. I laughed. Shit, its just one more thing to add to Lee Greenwood's "I'm Proud to Be An American." The freedom of speech to depict a guy singing into another gay man's anus is priceless! Proud, indeed. What a way to end Gay Pride month for me, huh? Viva la difference!

Poor Isaiah

OK, so a few weeks ago I posted on Isaiah Washington’s dismissal from the cast of Grey’s Anatomy. At the time, I stood perplexed on the issue on whether it was right or wrong that he was fired.

This morning I happened upon a snippet from Yahoo News on Isaiah now decrying the whole incident was racially inspired. He is citing racism was the reason he was fired. OK, Isaiah, up until this point I struggled with my feeling on this issue until I read your statement. There is no sense of contrition in any of your behavior. Let’s call a spade a spade. If you hadn’t made the mistake in the first place, you wouldn’t be in this situation now. Not only did you use the derogatory remark on set, but said it again at the Golden Globes. Now, mind you, I understand damage control and you’re denial is the typical spinning that goes on. But you actually used the word “faggot” in your statement.

“I never called TR a faggot!” Come on Isaiah. Wake up. You could have denied calling him the “f-word” without repeating it again. Are you that dunderheaded? Now you want to cry out racism? I understand as black men we often get a raw deal in this country, but you said the remarks twice. Once would’ve been forgiven. Twice makes you seem insensitive. What’s the old expression? “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me!” You get what I’m saying.

I don’t entirely disagree that you probably got a raw deal, but you show no remorse in your behavior and want to point blame here, there, everywhere, but yourself. I’m sorry, I’ve reached my limit of sympathy for you…..

Read the Yahoo News article below:

Ex-'Grey's' star cites racism for firing Thu Jun 28, 11:01 PM ET

"Grey's Anatomy" star Isaiah Washington said racism was a factor in his firing from the hit ABC series after he twice used an anti-gay slur.

Washington, who initially used the epithet during an onset clash with a co-star, told Newsweek magazine that "someone heard the booming voice of a black man and got really scared and that was the beginning of the end for me."

He tried to make amends by expressing remorse and volunteering to enter a counseling program to understand how the confrontation got out of hand, he told Newsweek.

"My mistake was believing that I would get the support from my network and all of my cast mates across the board. My mistake was believing I could correct a wrong with honesty and sincerity," he said in the interview posted online Thursday.

"My mistake was thinking black people get second chances. I was wrong on all fronts," he said.

His unwillingness to act like a submissive black at work was part of the problem, Washington said.

"Well, it didn't help me on the set that I was a black man who wasn't a mush-mouth Negro walking around with his head in his hands all the time. I didn't speak like I'd just left the plantation and that can be a problem for people sometime," he said.

"I had a person in human resources tell me after this thing played out that `some people' were afraid of me around the studio. I asked her why, because I'm a 6-foot-1, black man with dark skin and who doesn't go around saying `Yessah, massa sir' and `No sir, massa' to everyone?

"It's nuts when your presence alone can just scare people, and that made me a prime candidate to take the heat in a dysfunctional family," he said.

ABC declined comment Thursday. In its one public statement regarding Washington, issued in January, the network said his actions were "unacceptable."

Washington, who used the slur against co-star T.R. Knight during a confrontation with Patrick Dempsey, repeated the word backstage at the Golden Globes in January in denying the first incident. A public apology to Knight and others followed.

50 Things you'd never know if it weren't for TV!

1. If staying in a haunted house, women should investigate any strange noises wearing their most revealing underwear, preferably carrying candles which will be blown out by the slightest draft.

2. If being chased through town, you can usually take cover in a passing St Patrick's Day parade - at any time of the year.

3. All beds have special L-shaped top sheets that reach up to armpit level on a woman but only waist level on the man lying beside her.

4. All grocery shopping bags contain at least one stick of French bread.

5. It's easy for anyone to land a plane, providing there is someone in the control tower to talk you down.

6. Once applied, lipstick and any other make-up will never rub off - even while scuba diving and sleeping.

7. The ventilation system of any building is a perfect hiding place and leads to any location in the building, including the safe. No one will ever think of looking for you in there.

8. You're likely to survive any battle in any war unless you make the mistake of showing someone a picture of your sweetheart back home.

9. Should you wish to pass yourself off as a German officer, it will not be necessary to speak the language. English with a German accent will do, provided you are blonde.

10. The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window of any building in Paris.

11. People never finish their drinks.

12. A man will show no pain while taking the most ferocious beating but will wince when a woman tries to clean his wounds afterwards. This generally leads to a sex scene.

13. The chief of police is always wrong.

14. When paying for a taxi, just grab a note from your pocket and hand it over. It will always be the exact fare.

15. If you lose a hand, it will cause the stump of your arm to grow by 15 cm.

16. Kitchens don't have light switches. When entering a kitchen at night, you should open the fridge door and use that light instead.

17. During all police investigations, it will be necessary to visit a strip club at least once.

18. Mothers routinely cook eggs, bacon and waffles for their family every morning, even though the husband and children never have time to eat them.

19. Any American movie will contain a car chase, unless it was made by Walt Disney. Cars and trucks that crash will always burst into flames after they have come to a standstill and the hero is running away from it at 5 to 10 meters distance.

20. Wearing a vest or stripping to the waist makes a man invulnerable to bullets, provided he is the main character. Unimportant bad guys are killed instantaneously with one bullet or punch. Important bad guys nearly kill the hero savagely before they are killed.

21. A single match will be sufficient to light up a room the size of a football stadium.

22. If a killer is lurking in your house, it's easy to find him. Just relax and run a bath - even if it's the middle of the afternoon.

23. Medieval peasants had perfect teeth, were well-fed, wore clean clothes and make-up.

24. Although in the 20th century it is possible to fire weapons at an object out of visual range, people of the 23rd century will have lost this technology.

25. All single women have a cat.

26. Any person waking from a nightmare will sit bolt upright and pant.

27. Even when driving down a completely straight road, it is necessary to turn the steering wheel vigorously from left to right every few moments. Similarly, when driving a curvy road, the slightest movement of the steering wheel will do the job.

28. One man shooting at 20 men has a better chance of killing them all than 20 men firing at one.

29. Creepy music coming from a graveyard should always be closely investigated.

30. If a phone line is broken, communication can be restored by frantically beating the cradle and saying, "Hello? Hello?"

31. Most people keep a scrapbook of newspaper clippings - especially if any of their family or friends has died in a strange boating accident.

32. It does not matter if you are heavily outnumbered in a fight involving martial arts - your enemies will wait patiently to attack you one by one by dancing around in a threatening manner until you have knocked out their predecessor. If two men attack at the same time, the one behind you will firmly hold you up, so you can free your legs to kick the one coming from the front. If two men simultaneously attack from left and right, just a step backwards is sufficient to have them knock each other out.

33. During a very emotional confrontation, instead of facing the person you are speaking to, one stands behind them and talk to their back.

34. When you turn out the light to go to bed, everything in your room will still be clearly visible, just slightly bluish.

35. Dogs always know who's bad and will naturally bark at them.

36. Police departments give their officers undergo personality tests to make sure they are assigned a partner who is their total opposite.

37. Action heroes never eat and drink when chased for weeks, do not go to the toilet or need more than 5 minutes of sleep per day.

38. Action heroes never face charges for manslaughter or criminal damage, despite laying entire cities to waste.

39. No matter how badly a spaceship is attacked, its internal gravity system is never damaged.

40. If there is a deranged killer on the loose, this will coincide with a heavy thunderstorm that has brought down all the power and phone lines in the vicinity.

41. You can always find a chainsaw whenever you're likely to need one.

42. Rather than wasting bullets, megalomaniacs prefer to kill their arch-enemies using complicated machinery involving fuses, pulley systems, deadly gases, lasers and man eating sharks that will allow their captives at least 20 minutes to escape.

43. There are three types of criminals: megalomaniacs, Italian mafiosi and brain-dead muscle packs.

44. Many musical instruments - especially wind instruments and accordions - can be played with moving the fingers randomly.

45. All bombs are camouflaged using electronic timing devices with large red displays, showing exactly when the device will detonate. They are always disarmed by clipping one of two wires when the clock displays 3 seconds or less.

46. It is always possible to park directly outside the building you are visiting, cars need not be locked, nor keys taken out. If keys ere taken out of the ignitiuon, they should be left on top of the sunshade.

47. Guns are like disposable razors - if you run out of bullets, they should be thrown away. You can always find a new one which is loaded.

48. The weather always indicates what will happen next: rain will bring sadness (unless the film is called 'Singing in the rain'), thunder will bring fear and accidents.
49. A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty and continues the case in his own time.

50. If you decide to start dancing in the street, everyone you bump into will know all the steps.

The Moon Has Been A Witness

In the hot humid summer night, sometimes my thoughts turn to the simplicity of natural possibilities. What would life be like in a perfect world, removed from barriers of homophobia, racism, sexism, ageism, whatever-ism, and we could all be as on with the Creation? A place where one can enjoy themselves without limitation or foolish encumbrances of our traditional society.

The humidity is thick in the air tonight. My air conditioner in my apartment has not ceased running since arriving home. It's been a sluggish evening. Even my normally rambunctious cats are lying low, conserving their energy. Despite the despicable weather conditions, I love the summertime. Days constantly remind me of youthful moments passed: playing in the street until the electrical lamps on telephone polls came on, the smell of the air with its sharp, but sweet taste, the sight of fireflies buzzing about; days where the ice cream man's jingle could be heard blocks away and you went rushing into the house to grab whatever money you could find for a cold treat before his truck went around the block.

Adolescence brought different memories: staying out way beyond curfew, pushing the limits on that fine line between Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, driving all over the five county radius around Philadelphia, catching a buzzing in Valley Forge National Park, drinking in cemetery parties in the early hours of the morning, going to diners after parties, cruising for girls, muttering because we hadn't found any, creeping in the house at 5:00 AM, praying to God my mother would just let me skip church, dread that McDonald's had me on a short lease, scheduled to work on a Sunday!

College further loosened the reigns and heightens my blissful remembrance: steeling away at 3:00 in the morning to visit friends hours across the state. Driving to Pittsburgh, Erie, Punxsutawney, DuBois, State College, Lancaster, Philadelphia, all on whims, getting high of the summer nights, literally getting high in friends' apartment or getting drunk on grain alcohol concocted punches, driving to the Pinnacle in Holtwood to obtain a piece of peace watching sunrise over the valley on the Susquehanna River. Sharing kisses with partners, now long forgotten, tasting sweet passion, smelling life's potential on the horizon....

It's all different now! The years have flown by and I don't have much time to savor on the summer days. Days become mindless blurs warped into a single event. I don't reflect on the summer days of my 30s with fervor as done in my teens and 20s. Alas, quite stoically, I've become an adult. Yet tonight, on this evening where I can see the moon shine in all her glory, I recognize that despite my worries, my true lover, Sister Moon is waiting for one more dance in our summer gathering. Tonight I will steal upon the horizon and think fondly, then stand up, take her hand, and dance like we never parted. "Danse avec moi, mam'selle!"

A Matter Of Perspective:

Another Tribe Of One Post. A Back Story....

Daily living sometimes becomes somber and my will to persevere often wanes far too easily. Lately, I've been making the attempt to improve my life through living a healthier lifestyle. This is important for several reasons. Being healthier, whether eating properly or increasing physical activity, helps the mind to produce the necessary chemicals (Serotonin) in the brain to promote positive feelings.

For me, most of my life has been a struggle keeping my mental health and physical health in sync and in check. I've wrestled with depression and sought clinical counsel for several years. Thank God for therapy! Therapy has been key to helping with the "coming out" process.

Looking over my life, I realized I've not been satisfied with the course of my actions. I've often mishandled situations and made simple matters far too complicated. To my misfortune, I learned early on to play it "safe" and to take minimal risks. Living this way, perhaps, wasn't the wises course of action, but fear often had me immobile to take chances. I'm not exactly sure what I was afraid of. Possibly due to my poor esteem, feelings of perceived negativity, I created the illusion that in order for people to love and like me, I had to stay within the "safety zone." Most of my life I've placed others before my own needs. Call me meek. Call me foolish, but at the time, my decision was a matter of necessity and survival.

Harsh criticism was very familiar in my childhood. Being the only male in my immediate family, divorced from associating with other neighborhood children, didn't help with fostering a positive development or self-confidence. Till this day, I often feel overwhelmed and intimidated in the presence of other men. Being sexually molested several times in my youth made me skeptical to trust men, defining the man posting before you today.


Admitting my pain is easier than it has been and I've made progress with my development through therapy. Self-discovery has not been a smooth road, but of late, there a moments where it is bearable. I have further to go. Too many gaps are left in my psyche and unresolved issues with my father beckon need for enlightenment. Like me, my father was a man of "alternative" sexual tastes, a painful truth hard to swallow in youth, but a harsher reality as I developed into my own sexuality. Years spent alone, isolated, ashamed of a father that had fail me in his need to be my masculine anchor (translation = straight role model), made me feel that he was, that I was, less than a man. I vaguely remember a conversation we had where my father denounced queer living.

"It's a hard life. I wouldn't wish it on anyone." This was my reason enough for me to cling to heterosexuality long after his death. Less you think I cast all the blame on a "less than heroic father," my mother can't escape blame. With every absolution, every conviction to cross my mind, I regret to admit neither of my parents should have had children. Each was running away from something.

The clouds of youth hide much, but I remember my mother wasn't thrilled she married a man who wanted in the end to be with other men rather than her; the ultimate slap in the face to any woman's pride and esteem. My parents' fights were stuff of legend and the bitterness lasted long after their divorce. A story I often retell is the iron skillet episode where my mother hit my father after he hit her. Ugh! I laugh at it now, but it was so mentally abusing, it's no wonder I block most of my childhood memories before age 9.

Upon discovering my father's wavering sexual orientation, it became my mother's mission to eradicate any possibility of me being a gay man. My mother is not homophobic, but after the woman had been devastated, she wanted her child to be a man. From her issues, I projected this negativity upon my father and on to myself, I suppose. Unfortunately matters didn't work to my advantage to achieving firm masculinity (translation: heterosexuality). I was a behavior problem child. I acted out and had emotion disturbance (as it was termed then), was failing in school, not socially connecting well with my peers, and was rebelling at the seams. My mother, unable to handle or deal with a wild-child, shipped my ass off to live with my father in Washington, DC.

You'd think a young man, on the verge on possibly awakening into a homosexual self, sent packing to live with his gay father would be an ideal situation, right? Wrong. At least it wasn't for me. My father and I had a terse relationship for many years. We were never as close as we should have been. It's only been since he died, I can see the forest for the trees. Living with my father in my preadolescence only compounded my emotional instability and fostered far more insecurities. Being an overweight child, I was insecure about my appearance, manhood, and my very identity. Living in DC, "Chocolate City," you'd also think I'd reconnect with my African American brethren to some degree. It didn't happen. We lived in the Glover Park section, north of Georgetown, an area at the time where very few black families lived. The ones who did live there, certainly didn't associate with me. I internalized this furthering my diaspora from the community.

Adjusting took time. My weight issues were a constant source of agony and I was lectured resoundingly about the need to lose it. True conflict developed here because my father's parents lived in the South West Section of the City too. My grandmother was a Southern woman who worked hard and COOKED her ass off! She would prepare huge meals and I was all to happy to oblige in eating them. Food and I have have not been the same since....

I have horrible memories from the four years I lived in DC and didn't start to come into being orderly until eighth grade. As soon as I could beat tracks back to Pennsylvania, I did. I left portions out of the story. Some memories from the DC period are still private and too painful. DC was where the second and third time I was molested. I was well aware of the second occurrence, but trudged up another situation that happened between my step-grandfather and me. Maybe the molestation reinforced my food addiction. Maybe it pushed me further into the closet. Whatever the circumstances, my DC years are just a fraction of the Tribe Of One personification.

The tale will go on in the coming days...

What We Welcome Into Being...

So today was the first time since I've returned from the Caribbean I've seen Napoleon. Sure I've talked to him on the phone, but being close in his physical presence is a different story. Driving down with his mother to his home he shares with a couple other guys, I was able to meet his roommates. One in particular, "Dudley," caught my eye. I've spoke to Dudley once or twice and thought nothing of it. Well! Mister was not what I expected.

I had a feeling that he was gay and recognized the crush he has on Naps. It didn't bother me, but a part of me feels like I should warm him about Napoleon's selfish nature. I just might have to keep my eye on him. Dudley is a stocky, Latino boy, ruggedly handsome with stunning blue eyes, and charming to a fault. I see why he gets along with my Naps, he's a total Bull Shit artist just like Naps. Curious, I asked Naps if he was at all interested in Dudley, but of course he said no. In fact, Napoleon thinks Dudley is quite unattractive. Crazy boy! Go figure, Naps is till stuck on the image of beauty and that thin equates acceptable. This irritates me to no avail. I've argued it time and time again with him, but talking to brick wall would be more convincing and understanding.

Dudley is a solid shaped guy., not fat or pouchy, but what some folks call "big-boned." His body type reminds me of someone who wrestled or played football. My best estimation on weight would be anywhere from 175 to 200 lbs, which isn't fat to me. With an ax to grind, I mentioned to Naps I was interested, which I know annoyed an pissed him off. See he likes to string me along that way. Slick bastard, LOL. I say that with no malice. I know how my friend Mr Napoleon can be. Had his mother not been then, I would have read him the riot act quite nicely. As it stands, Naps always wants his cake and to eat it too. The boy is spoiled, but I love him.

He broke up with Linus but pressure me every moment to find out if I had any information or had been in contact with him. I'm not Linus's keeper, I don't keep tabs on his comings and goings. I can't stand the bastard. Chalk all this up to Napoleon's age. Younger men, in my experience want it all, want to rewrite the world and need the most reassurance. Give him a couple more years to mature. Napoleon won't entirely let Linus go because they had a five year relationship and I guess, no matter how dysfunctional the relationship, Napoleon needs his safety net.

Still Naps is most infuriating. I managed to get through the visit with out blowing my composure and killing him. My feelings have changed for him and yet they haven't When I don't have much contact I feel the noose loosen, when I with him, I'm grasping for air. There is much need to get over this man-child, pronto-quick, LOL!

When The Mind becomes Cluttered...

It's then always a good time for a good house cleaning.

My thoughts proceed me and I hope I collect them to form a legible post. Today is significant for two reasons. It's the anniversary of my high school graduation and also the anniversary of my break-up with my first real boyfriend since I came out. Both have had an impact in my life and neither situation lived up to their full potential. Let's start with my high school graduation.

It's hard to believe I've been out of high school for 19 years now. The time has flown by and leaves me with with regrets and unfulfilled promise. Somehow I don't think my life was supposed to turn out to be this way. I'm not impressed with life as I know it. When I graduated and went on to collect, I wanted to make a career where I had influence on the world; helping to improve lives. I majored in psychology, with minors in history and philosophy, and dabbled in a political science. My vocational aspirations changed several times during college and I graduated feeling even more confused than when I entered.

Today I work in Human Services, which has it's rewards, but in my current profession, there are too many days where I feel drained and unattached. My job has become routine and mundane. While I want to go back to school and work on completing my Master's Degree, financially, it's not an option. I wrestle with what I want to be when I "grow up." I better hurry, at 37, time has given me ample opportunity to discover the professional me. Recently I contemplated going into the Drug & Alcohol/Chemical Dependency field, but would require going back to school to touch up on my skills. Again, money is the almighty issue.

What is my true passion? I wish I knew. I feel embarrassed when i tell people what I do for a living. I'm not about making tons of money, but I feel like my job is menial and isn't important enough. At least it doesn't feel important to me. For what I do, I don't often earn enough money to support myself. Mind you, I'm not on the verge of being destitute, but I have poor health insurance and a crappy time off schedule (APL: All Purpose Leave, the bane of every professional employee's existent. Eek)! I deliberated doing something I enjoy like art or cooking, but I'm not sure how to get my foot in the door. I'd love to own my own restaurant. Sometimes, I think that's my true calling.

Cooking gives me pleasure and I received more than enough compliments on my dishes I've created over the years. I learned how to cook at the feet of my paternal grandmother and also my father. I guess something in those Southern genes rubbed off on me. Plus I think it helps that I like to EAT. Anybody who loves food as much as I do has to have some passion about cooking.

I'm not looking forward to going back to my 20 year Class Reunion next year. Suffice to say, I have much catching up to do and repair before I even begin to prepare returning to the hallowed halls of my Alma Mater.

Then we have Patrick. Ah, yes Patrick. Asshole Patrick. Patrick who had the audacity to cheat on me and want to continue in a relationship. Patrick who was a self-loathing jerk that compared me to a "warm-spring day." Patrick, that weirdo with the foot fetish who could only achieve orgasm by masturbating with my feet in his face or on his private area! Patrick who was really, really, REALLY lousy in bed, was a sloppy kisser, and was a HOG when it came to his home. His apartment was NEVER clean. Patrick who borrowed my Prince 1999, Josh Groban, and Barry White CDs and never returned. Patrick who ditched me at Gay Pride to chase some dirty old disgusting queen...ugh! Yes, I have resentment. Yes, I have regret. Regret I ever was stupid enough to enter into a relationship with him. Still, I have to remind myself what my friend Mark tells me.

"Regret is like peeing on yourself. Both serve no real purpose and are really messy!

It's been a few months since I've been in any semblance of a relationship. After the fiasco with Napoleon blew up in my face a couple of weeks ago, I'm seriously put off by the situation with men. I'm starting to believe I will never be in a decent relationship. Most of the guys I've been with or hooked up with have been horrible examples of men. Despite how much I love Napoleon, he is no better than Patrick. Sure, he runs circles around him. He's much better looking. He's has pride in his personal appearance and dwelling. Plus he has INCHES below his belt, something Patrick severely lacked (no I'm no a size queen, but damn Napoleon is mighty healthy in the genital department)!!! Napoleons has his issue too, but this post isn't about him today. I just need to vent on misguided love...OK, maybe I could throw Naps into the mix, but I rather not. My emotions are mixed when it comes to him lately.

Before I left for the cruise, Napoleon said the most damaging things to my esteem and I didn't think I'd be able to recover from. Without going into gory details, essentially he never really was all that into me, according to him, and from his actions, used the hell out of me. Oh sure, he DOES love me. I know that without a doubt, it's just his love is not about the romantic, passionate kind. Basically, we had sex because...well that would saying too much I don't NEED to reveal. Still it hurts. Suffice I probably won't be tasting the Bonaparte goods anytime soon.

Napoleon and Patrick share a common trait; they're both incredibly selfish men. Patrick has problems because he can't come to terms completely with being a homo. His ex-wife , according to him, has been a "bitch" and unrelenting. From how he treated me, I have no sympathy for him, and my whole understanding for her. Patrick wasn't/isn't a bad person, just incredibly selfish. Napoleon, the same notion. The weekend before I left for vacation, Napoleon and I went out clubbing where he ditched me for some guy, knowing I was drunk off my ass, so he could go get high and get his cock sucked (he claims he didn't, but I know better). I had to drive my drunk black ass home and it's a miracle of miracles I made it home. I've haven't been so intoxicated since my last 'Ritter' party.

I don't won't to bash either one of them, but I have unresolved issued with both Napoleon and Patrick. Napoleon is a huge part of my life, whether I like it or not. He still is my best friend, even if we're not f*ck-buddies. His immaturity, reckless behavior, and selfishness irritate me to no avail, but yes, I will always love him, (cue Whitney here....) I just can't be in a relationship with him.

So, we come full circle. From my "first" boyfriend to my last. Oh sure, Napoleon and I were never officially defined as "boyfriends," but we were and he can't deny that. What we shared emotionally went beyond friendship. I'm sorry if he wants to refute it, but shit, let's recognize the Pink Elephant for what it was, dammit.

As for Patrick, perhaps he needs to go visit with his estranged brother and work out his unresolved shit with his family before getting into another relationship and ruining someone else's life. I'm not saying I wasn't at fault with some of my behavior and actions, but I had an excuse to a certain extent. I was newly out of the closet and just getting a feel to be in a relationship. At least I can HONESTLY say I never cheated in the relationship. I've never cheated on any of my boyfriends. Napoleon is the first (and hopefully the last) situation where I was involved in some extra-relationship affair. Aw man! I rambled on....

Beauty Comes In All Forms

Lest anyone call into question my defined status as a "bisexual male" ( it doesn't have to be an even 50/50, dammit) I decided to post some images of some women I find attractive.

So here you go...oh and please excuse the Halle Berry photo. This is for my women-friends that read the blog. Don't be offended. You KNOW I love and respect you all.

Ecce Homo Et Homo Athleticus

I needed a little visual inspiration. I haven't done a "Famous Men Monday" post in a while so here's a small sampling of what I think looks good in the world of athletics celebrity. I might catch some flack or two with my selections based on the some of the personalities, namely T.O, but hell, you have to admit he has a nice body underneath that football uniform. That man has a hard, masculine body, and despite what anyone thinks of him, dude is PHIIIIINNEE!



Rediscovering Apolo Anton Ohno this year from Dancing With The Stars was a pleasant surprise. I remember him from the Torino, Italy Winter Olympics back in 2004. Such a hot guy. He has grace and beauty. I have a thing for guys with mixed ethnic backgrounds. Now please don't think I'm one of those guys who is just into a guy because of his "exotic" ethnicity. Please no. I like men period. Men from all backgrounds and walks of life. Represented here are African American, Polynesian, Asian, Latino, and Multiracial (African-Caucasian American) men. I try not to get caught up into the color spectrum. Skin color doesn't matter!


Now before anything thinks I'm dissin' my own ethnic brothers...Hmm, I feel someone out there is yelling at me cause I don't always post much chocolate men. Oh don't worry, there's more coming soon...my hard drive is full of black men photographs. I'll just have to round up another batch and do a "Beautiful Black Men" or "Sexy Black Men" blog later in the week. I promise, LOL!



On a semi-serious note, I have to admit when it comes to sports, there are only three sporting events I can REALLY watch and enjoy without getting caught up in the physical dynamic of men's bodies; basketball, baseball, and tennis. Its funny though because in saying that, I posted today pictures of James Blake (tennis) and Alex "A-Rod" Rodriguez (baseball)! Well damn, yeah I have to admit baseball players by far have the best looking bodies. OK, I peek every now and again between those RBIs and perfect catches.

As for everything else I watch in the sports panorama, forget it! There's too much distraction. Football is fun to watch, but those asses and shoulder pads easily knock me off my game. I sincerely hate watching football with my straight friends because after awhile the inner queer sets loose and eventually I'll say something inappropriate for mixed, straight guy/queer guy, company. See that's why I enjoy watching sports with Lady Miss T, we can drool together and be aware of the game. No repercussions over sexual ogling. Thank Goodness for exes who understand their homo exes and aren't petty about it!



Wrestling, swimming, track and field: there's just too much package on display! Oh silly boy! You got too much jiggling and wiggling going on! Naw, I refuse to be the one who reinforces the stereotype all gays are only about the hot men. Still though...the sheer magnitude of watching a well defined body in motion is a powerful epiphany. Whew!

Nudity: Pornography Or Art?

So I was sleeping in a deep, comforting sleep this morning when my cat decided she wanted attention and woke me up. Unable to go back into my slumber, I got up and went on the computer. Rather than immediately go online, I decided to clean up my hard drive and throw away unused items, some included some porn I've downloaded. My mind works in weird ways and I got to processing the whole notion of the nude form. Is it art or is it pornography? What is the distinction between between nudity being a form of art and being porn?

Certainly, anything demonstrating any type of sexual contact in my book would be considered porn, but is just the nude body porn? It depends on the subject. With female nudity, the line becomes blurred. Men and women view porn differently. Most of my female friends believe anytime a woman is photographed without her clothes, immediately its porn. They see it as the objectification of women, continuing to place women on a substance level lesser than a man.

My straight male friends may beg to differ. To men who appreciate a woman's body as a work of art, which it is, I believe the consensus maybe a nude woman's body is not pornographic if she is just photographed nude, with no type of sexual stimulation occurring (meaning she isn't touching or grinding on herself). With so many periodicals and publications catering to "the art" of female nudes, the belief maybe a little suspect. I mean how many straight male magazine have you seen where the woman isn't stimulating herself or made to appear she isn't aroused? Straight porn, in my humble opinion, really has nothing to do with sexuality, but the illusion of it.

Perhaps when the image project is used to stimulate and cause sexual arousal, then its pornography? By definition, yes. But another man's porn is another man's art. Some would argue there is no such thing as pornography, that its all art! I'm not sure how they explain that rationale. I've seen some nasty shit in my time that has no resemblance to art. Being a man of alternative sexual tastes, my view points on nudity of course diverge from my straight brothers' attitudes. While I appreciate the beauty of a woman's body, I've very little desire to see it unclothed that often. (I've been liberated from the stereotypical misogynist ways when I joined the Other Sexual Team. I likes beef now and wants to sees whenevah I can, dammit!)

Can a distinction can be made insofar as male nudity? Again, is an image of a nude male considered porn? Sometimes. It depends on what's going on in the image. Does he have an erection? Is there a licentious nature to the image? Men get erections at the drop of the hat and it doesn't always involve sexual thinking. After all, what is an erection? Its the natural flow of blood to a particular region of the body. Male babies get erections and that has nothing to do with sexuality at all.

Let's look at the definition of pornography and and art....

According to Webster's Dictionary, pornography is defined as the depiction of erotic behavior intended to cause sexual excitement. There are many definitions available on art, so I took the most relevant to this post. Art is defined as the conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects; the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance.

Further still, do an online search on both of this words to get a clearer definition (Interesting enough, I went to dictionary dot com this morning to check if Webster's definitions were correct and was surprised on their expanded view. I won't expound on this further because it's deviating from my original topic, but I suggest if this blog post interests and motivates you to do your own research, check it out).

There's an old saying "I may not know what pornography looks like, but I'll know it when I see it!" I think to give a further definition to porn, one also has to look at their own values. I don't view the male or female form nude is pornography, unless it is used to degrade the person to a subhuman standard. I'm not sure how to argue my point without this post becoming tremendously long.

Personally,I won't deliberate over the imbalance in male nude images for my straight sisters out there. Unfortunately, most male nudity/pornography is geared towards gay and bisexual men. Even Playgirl. Everyone KNOWS Playgirl is an underground publication catering to gay men still in the closet. Moreover, how many of those same models will be found in the pages of established gay magazines performing nondescript acts on another man? I won't go into the expostulation pf the whole "gay for pay" theory simply because it may invalidate my own argument I'm bisexual (basically, I don't subscribe to the notion "Gay for Pay." Guys F*ck other guys because they are GAY. Period). Sexuality is supposed to be fluid according to Kinsey, Masters & Johnson, et al. Yadda Yadda Yadda.

When it comes to men and women, porn takes on different aspects. Men I don't think are violated or objectified in the same manner as women. The porn industry has capitalized on women and nudity and used it in immoral, offensive, and corrupting ways. People are often involved in conduct surrounding abusive situations on the physical, spiritual, and emotional levels, leading into other self-destructing pathways.

I'm not here to preach, just clearly my head from the morning thoughts. Lawd knows I enjoy seeing a hot body or two every now and then, both male and female, but rarely do I stop to think of the ramifications. What lead this person to take off their clothes, performs acts reserved for the private, and earn this way of living? Is there a difference between gay porn and straight porn? To be honest, I used to believe yes, there was a difference. Men involved in gay porn have choices. A man doesn't have the limitations women often STILL have to face. A man can choose a lucrative career and still be considered respectable. Sometimes women are boxed into situations where that feel they have no other choice but to use their bodies to earn a living. It's sad.

Yet, I've heard of situations where young men, especially young gay men, were forced into the Industry. Some were on the streets because they were rejected by their parents for being homosexual. Many get involved in prostitution to earn money, which eventually leads to drug usage, and the porn industry gives these young men/ the marketability to support their habits/lifestyle.

This sample situation was never made more clear until I met a male friend, who's gay, who has tricked and posed nude to earn cash to support his drug habit. It surprised the hell out of me when he confessed this. (NB: to those of you who know me in real life, don't ask, I won't tell. It's not Napoleon though. I'll say that much). In his 20s, he graduated college, having been Out during that time, and went home expecting to live his life. His parent thought otherwise. He left home by choice and did spend time living as a "transient person" (I hate the word homeless, it sounds very apolitically correct). His story isn't as bad as it may seem. I know his drug of choice, something affordable that he didn't have to trick himself out, and believe he had other opportunities at his disposal.

So over all, what's the verdict on nudity images vs pornography? Are either good or bad for the modern society? Yes. No. Maybe so. Mind you I'm discussing nudity when it involves a legal consenting adult. Child pornography is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong! That's another subject for another blogger. As far as adults, I think one has to know what their heart and mind dictates, then act and respond accordingly.

That's my thought bright and early this Sunday morning. Whoa, Nelly!

Defining Moments

"Yes Mrs. Addams. I brought the marijuana into the house.....AND I'm takin it with me when I leave!!!"

Carrie Bradshaw
Hot Child In the City Episode
Sex and the City

Isaiah Washington Gets the Boot!

So getting ready for work this morning I heard that ABC has decided not to renewed Isaiah's contract next season for Grey's Anatomy. The issue has a doesn't well with me and I find myself trying to understand why.

While I don't condone what Isaiah said about TR Knight, I feel in some ways, as a black man, he was given his fair chance to make amends. People are comparing this issue to if a white person uttered the "n" word, which seems not to be in the same league. It makes me sympathetic in some degree to why whites and other ethnic groups feel about acceptance the "n" word usage in the African American community. The GLBT community has many people who use the word "faggot" all the time. I have to admit I use it from time to time and not always in a loving manor. So what's right?



I think Isaiah definitely needed to learn a lesson and I don't think his "rehabilitation" had anything to do with contrition, but was a desperate attempt to save his job. Still I find myself struggling to accept his termination from the show. Grant it, I hated Dr. Burke's character, but I can't help but recall many countless times similar situation have occurred where people were given a second chance. Now I won't decry racism. We do live in the 21st century after all and words like "faggot, nigger, WOP, kike, Spic, etc." should be removed from our vocabulary. We should be living on the higher moral ground. But to err is human, to forgive Divine.

I wonder how GLAAD and other gay rights groups will respond? More importantly, I wonder how the African American community will respond? How does the same gender loving African American community feel? Do they feel as divided as I do? Overall though, I hope this has brought a resolution to the whole debacle although I don't think we've heard the last to it yet.


My thoughts also go out to TR Knight. TR is on the cover of this month's Advocate celebrating Pride Month. I applaud their selection and personally think, in humble opinion, TR Knight is adorable. There's some about him that makes me sympathetic and very understanding How he handled this situation was very courageous and ADULT. He didn't lash out. He didn't get into a "He said this-He said that" situation. He continued to go about his business, like a professional. Sure he went on to Ellen and did some interviews, but that was his right. I have strong opinions about people who are forced out of the closet involuntarily. Yet TR Knight took it on the chin and was able to keep his head held high. I admire him. One thing I've noticed about TR, is rarely do you see photos of him smiling. His eyes convey volumes of inner turmoil, hurt, loneliness, perhaps even shame. His reserved nature gives an air of mysteriousness, indicating he's struggled in his life. After reading the Advocate, I respect him even more.

As far as Isaiah is concerned, he has the sympathetic side from me only in the fact we are both black men and black men almost never get a fair deal in this country. He and asshole Tim Hardaway (Remember that whole mess?!?!?!) need to learn to respect others and themselves before opening their mouths. What's the old saying, open mouth, insert foot. Both will reap negative consequences from their follies for a while. People are keeping score and their memories are long....

His Purple Reign...

Happy 49th Birthday to his Royal Badness of Music, Prince!

Damn, I can't believe the Purple One is 49 years old. It seems like yesterday I singing on high the beatitudes of 1999, Purple Rain, and other albums. Prince is truly a music genius. I remember every lyric to just about every song he ever wrote. I have most of his albums with the except of ones release recently. I event have his infamous "symbol" album from his period when he was the Artist Formerly Known as Prince, TAPKAF, when he was fighting for independence from Record Label Warner Brothers Music.




In 1993, during negotiations regarding the release of Prince's album The Gold Experience, a battle between Warner Bros. and Prince ensued, struggling over the artistic and financial control of Prince’s output. During that time, Prince only appeared in public with the word “SLAVE” written on his cheek. Prince explained his name change as follows:

The first step I have taken towards the ultimate goal of emancipation from the chains that bind me to Warner Bros. was to change my name from Prince to . Prince is the name that my Mother gave me at birth. Warner Bros. took the name, trademarked it, and used it as the main marketing tool to promote all of the music that I wrote. The company owns the name Prince and all related music marketed under Prince. I became merely a pawn used to produce more money for Warner Bros.… I was born Prince and did not want to adopt another conventional name. The only acceptable replacement for my name, and my identity, was , a symbol with no pronunciation, that is a representation of me and what my music is about. This symbol is present in my work over the years; it is a concept that has evolved from my frustration; it is who I am. It is my name.

Prince has always been a music entity unto to his own. Often doing controversial projects, Prince's reign over music has spanned four decades. For You, his first album from 1978, was a talented work.

Prince was born Prince Rogers Nelson on June 7, 1958 in Minneapolis, Minnesota. His music has spanned myriad styles: from his early material, rooted in R&B, funk, and soul, he has constantly expanded his musical palette throughout his career, absorbing many other genres including New Wave, pop, rock, blues, jazz, and hip hop. The distinctive characteristics of the early-to-mid 1980s work which brought him to super-stardom (including sparse and industrial-sounding drum machine arrangements, and the use of synthesizer riffs to serve the role traditionally occupied by horn riffs in earlier R&B, funk and soul music) became known as the "Minneapolis sound," which proved heavily influential.

Rock on Prince.

I'm Back...

Actually I've been back for a few days now. I've returned to the normal routine and am still adjusting to not having the swaying motion as I walk. The cruise and vacation were fabulous. I will blog about that in the near future, but I wanted to posted a quickie message.

I have much to blog about. When I left my world was collapsing in many area and I suffered more than a few setbacks. I'm still not fully recovered, but adjusting as best as I know how. Life isn't going to be the same, nor should it be. Again I will have to fill you in.

The picture posted is significant to life in what went wrong. Any guesses as to who those two are, hmmm? My lips are sealed.