premature adultification

saturday morning

7:00-7:45am - slowly wake up

8:00am - knock on the door, t-boy and i have coffee as new neighbors

8:30am - t-boy and i go to the farmer's market. i spend less than $17 and end up with fresh food to last me at least this week. my purchases include:

• red and white radishes
  
• lettuce
  
• white onions
  
• cucumbers
  
• chicken
  
• fresh bread

9:00am - home again, turn on the music, put away the goods, make myself an amazing omlette with a little bit of today's finds, last week's finds, and rainbow.

9:15am - just HAVE to blog about it = )

a little addition... last night at 11pm someone started playing jazz on their trumpet in the park i face over... live, REAL, impromptu jazz! right here in my neighborhood!!! i fell asleep like a baby.

have a super memorial day weekend folks.

bummer dudes...

i posted via email yesterday and it never got on the blog... what a bummer.  and it was a truly excellent "for the guys who love the "V"."

i'll see if i can recreate it.

for the guys who love the "V"

whoa guys... i'm walking to work after lunch at home and i saw this woman in the park.  several things made me do a double-take.

1 - CUTE PUG!!!  i mean, really, this was the cutest thing.

2 - amazing posture.

3 - BRIGHT red satin blouse.  the thing just popped-out at you.

and speaking of things that pop-out at you:

4 - holy GAZUMBAHS batman!!!  between the bright red satin blouse, the excellent posture, and the big breasts, this woman was literally popping-out.  and the funny thing was, i think she knew she had very nice breasts... even though her dog was in one place she kept turning around almost like she was making sure everyone saw how lovely here chest looked.

(like how i used "breast" today, dash!!!!  *grin*)

giggly-squiggly-excited

you know, it's interesting how life repeats itself.  

ten years ago (almost to the day, actually) i graduated from high school.  i was crazy-excited because i was going to college in the fall and i just couldn't contain myself.  i'd look at my acceptance letter all the time just to feel that excited and freaked-out feeling over and over.  every single day i'd be reminded that i was going to college and that i was doing something with my life - it was the best (and scariest) feeling in the world.

fast-forward those ten, very short, years...

yesterday i got my student id from the university of minnesota.  i'm crazy-excited because i'm going to grad school this summer and i just can't contain myself!  yesterday and today i keep taking it out of my wallet to look at it and get that excited freaked-out feeling... over and over and over again!  since i got accepted and enrolled in my first class i'm reminded that i'm going to school again and that i'm doing something with my adult life!  it's the best (scary, but not as much as before) feeling ever.

i've changed SO much in these last ten years but right now i'm amazed at how much i HAVEN'T changed.  life still excites me and a simple piece of paper or an id card w/ my picture and the word "student" on it can give me that giggly-squiggly-excited feeling that i just love.

have a great weekend everyone!

for the guys who love the "V"

ok guys... dash made a comment the other day about the lack of the use of the word "breast" in our country as of late.  i'm thinking it had to do w/ my cancer-walk posting where pretty much every place there should have been a "breast" there was a "boob" or "rack" instead.  *grin*

before i say what i'm thinkin' on the issue i'm going to open the floor up to the "guys who love the "V"" for their opinions.  i think it's safe to say that they are the world's greatest appreciators of breasts... so guys, what do you think of the word "breast?"  do you use it?  why might you NOT use it?  is it situational or do you just like/dislike the word?  what DO you call them if it's not "breast?"

comments are encouraged by all lovers of boobs/breasts/racks as well.

my dad's going to think i've married the devil

i'm almost done getting my new apartment organized, decorated, and balanced.  as i was saying to my wonderful sis the other day, i'm able to do things in this apartment that i haven't been able to do in the past... namely, surround myself with artifacts and icons i hold very close to my spiritual self.

hence my marriage to the devil himself (i heard he's hot... AND gay...)

i looked around my place last night and saw a couple crosses, a green man plaque, a shrine to buddha, three castiron african gods, a set of tarot cards, a set of oracle cards, a gorgeous carving of shiva, and a copy of the koran, the book of mormon, the tao te ching, the gospel of thomas, the gospel of judas, oh, and the bible.  i'm probably missing some things, but you get the point.  i think my parents are going to absolutly love my new place... but i'm sure that it will only take my dad a few minutes to notice being surrounded by false idols.

*sigh*  

i love my new place... it just feels so right.

gazoombahs

boobs are cool.  i mean... REALLY cool.  yeah, sure, i'm a gay man... but have you SEEN a gay man around a nice rack???  it's like bears and honey: an instant attraction (minus the licking... well... in most [sober] situations).  there's just something about them, and no, it has nothing to do with being sexually attracted to a woman... it's all about natural progression:  1) hanging things are fun to play with.  2) ooh, my balls hang... man these are fun to play with, i can't keep my hands off of them.  3) HEY!  girls have hangy things too.  4) man... boobs are like balls, only higher and squishier.  5) hmm, these are fun, but i can take mine everwhere i go... i'll resort to balls w/ the occasional boob.

unfortunately, not all women get to keep their boobs.  i'd love to say that its a happy thing seeing them go, like seeing a suffering loved-one pass on to the next life.  but most women who face boob-cancer find themselves feeling suddenly incomplete, empty, and very alone.

until mother's day.  

for the second year in a row i walked in the b-cancer walk at the mall of america in memory of my friend mary who passed away years ago from boob-cancer and various other cancers.  for the second year in a row i found myself fighting-back tears numerous times as i walked w/ 50,000 other people with pink signs on that celebrated the sucess of a loved-one thru this terrible plague... others, like myself, wore pink in memory of said loved-one.  as i walked i felt overwhelmed by sadness FINALLY feeling like i had a way to understand the magnitude of this disease... and overwhelmed by the amount of survivors and their amazingly positive attitudes.  

people, this is real... and it fuckin' sucks.  let's do something about it:  the next time your feel or see a nice rack, think about how devistated you'd be if it wasn't there for you to look at or touch... then think about how it would feel if you were that woman, permanently disconnected from herself.  then do something... donate money, remind a loved-one to give themselves a self-check... or walk with me next mother's day.  

potty-based pet peeve

i think some of you have heard this one before... if so, deal with it.  and, YES, many of my postings are about poo or loo-related subjects... but what do you expect from a guy w/ ibs???

now, on to the potty-based pet peeve...

one of my biggest pet peeves, which i guess really isn't a pet peeve, just an "ew... that was so gross"-ism is when you walk into the bathroom, see someone you know, the only other person in the bathroom, washing their hands, walk into a stall and sit down on a warm seat.

it's like... oh my god!  not only a warm toilet seat but you KNOW WHO'S ASS WARMED IT UP!!!  it's like bumping your bare bum against that persons...

hmm... now that's an idea...

for the guys who love the "V"

"perky"  "firm"  "big nipples"  "low-hangin'"  "small"  "perfect"

these are words/phrases for breasts.

"curvy"  "tight"  "big"  "not a good one"  "HOT!"

these are words/phrases for butts.

"cute"  "bitchy"  "ghetto"  "new york"  "hollywood"  "crabby"

these are words/phrases for general personalities.

i send sincere thanks to wrb and brain for their help the other day in figuring-out better (and more satisfying) ways to approach "for guys who love the "V"."  i also thank them for making it clear that a terribly simple phrase can satisify a straight man and give him fodder to take the visual and run... for this, guys, i really say thanks... it makes my job SO much easier.

till next week...  "V"-guys, keep your zippers up.  =)

reality bites

i recently took an official e.q. (emotional quotient) test through work.  you know, the kind that my company has to pay mega cash for and that i have to sit down and discuss with an advisor when i get done.  this test is supposed to show my emotional intellegence and is supposedly difficult for many people to see the results of.  i was delighted to get the info on me...

well, as should be no surprise, i came out above average in most areas, specifically in "stress tolerance" and "interpersonal relationships" and ABOVE average in "happiness."  well DUH!  the thing that really shocked me, though, was that i came out particularly below average in "reality testing."

of course my inital reaction was "what the fuck is reality testing?"  my second reaction was "well of COURSE i'm below average in that... reality freakin' bites and i do almost everything i can to ignore it."  my third reaction was "hmmm, maybe i should read-up on this "reality testing" thing before i continue bitching."

*pause bitching*

reality testing:  the reults for this subscale indicate a pronounced tendency to over-fantasize, daydream, and lose touch with what's going on in the "real-world."  there also may be a tendency to pursue unrealistic goals, instead of sticking to practical and attainable goals.  there is a limited ability to stay focused on the task at hand.

*resume bitching*

whatever.  if you ask me... the "average" person is flawed because they are based too much in reality.  to me, reality is corporate america.  reality is george bush.  reality is right-wingers supressing women, gays, and anyone who is happier or has a better sex live than them.  reality is dumb.

the person who can't occasionally escape reality is a bore.  the person who can focus on the "real-world" all the time is flawed.  and the person who is "average" in their reality testing is just not me.  and i don't want to be that person niether.

give me your tired, your poor, your air-headed masses yearning to be themselves and worship as themselves and not be forced to fit into an "average" box.

all praise to the green man.

in celebration of life

i have an appreciation for bathroom whistlers.

you know them... they guys who walk into the bathroom whistling and pull-up at the urinal next to you and continue to whistle, unphased by your urinating presence.

they're the ones in the stalls humming and tapping their feet with their pants around their ankles.

they're the ones who are seemingly so in love with life, so happy with what's going on in it, and so pleased with the universe that it comes out in song.  and that song isn't even remotely paused for something as mundane as going to the bathroom to empty out.  as a matter of fact, that mundane task turns into just another extension of their joy of living, their joy of air.

i think i need to start whistling more  = )

for the men who love the "V"

today marks the beginning of a new segment in my blog entitled: for the men who love the "V".  i'll try my hardest to make it a weekly segment, but we'll see how straight i'm feeling each week.

why the new segment you ask?  well, at lunch today, brain and wrb (and i'm sure ivy-dude would agree) said that i needed to stop raving about all the guys on my blog and start hiliting the gals... they were, of course, referring to my fire alarm blog where i raved about "cute ass/big arms" guy who had his "big arms" around an equally cute gal - and i said BOO about the gal.

well, boys... here's your - for the men who love the "V" - segment for this week:

so this totally hot chick got in the elevator w/ me yesterday when i was heading up to my new place.  she was kinda paris-hilton-ish but DAMN did she have some kickin' curves.  ooh, and her sunglasses were SOOO CUTE!  (oops... sorry, that one slipped out).  anyway, she was leaning into the corner with this "i don't give a shit about you or your life" look so i gave her the "you're a ho" look and she walked across the elevator and threw herself on me.  we made out for a while and then wentbacktomyapartmentanddidit.  uh, yeah.

*shrug*  i'm just not feeling it this week.  sorry guys, better luck next week.

in the middle of the night i go walkin' in my sleep...

this afternoon, as i was going to look at the apartment a friend of mine is moving into down the hall from me, i mentioned that having a couple hundred apartments in one building was frustrating because i feel like i'll never get to see all the people who live here and may never know who's cute and who's not. i jokingly said that it'd be nice to have one evening where everyone stood outside their apartment door as i walked all eight floors to know where the hotties were.

careful what you wish for.

11:40pm - the fire alarm goes off. i've been here for three whole days and i'm already experiencing a fire alarm. i grab what's the closest to me and put it on... ugh, jeans and a sweatshirt - must remember to keep cuter clothes on hand for the next time this happens. as i got outside, though, i realized i got my wish from earlier in the day - almost all the people in my building were outside. i, of course, was swiftly checking everyone out.

rough, tough, hottie @ eight o'clock: construction boots, torn and dirty jeans, t-shirt w/ sleeves cut off, really hot tattoo on right bicep... yep - yum.

overly cute hottie @ one o'clock: w/ an older woman. he's tall and has a clubbing shirt on. they're talking about how one of the firefighters had a porn mustache - i look next time i see him... yep, porn mustache.

5 o'clock shadow and nice ass at 4:30: ugh, he's got his [really cute] arms wrapped around an equally cute gal. *eye roll*

so i call my sister as four firetrucks rumble up to the building and she asks how many of the guys are single, i quickly glance around only to realize that not all that many are alone. true, they may be w/ friends... but most are still w/ people.

that is... except for rough, tough, hottie w/ the construction boots. hmmm... i may have to keep my eyes open for him... and leave my construction boots next to the door for the next fire alarm...