Happy Endings

^What a waste of good pie!

Wendi Deng Murdoch will not be teaching classes on how to tame your dragon. When her hubs, Rupert was under attack by a pie abusing protester at his latest court hearing, Wendi lashed back open palmed and full bodied. I have been watching this video repeatedly in hysterics at the mere thought of what her face must have looked like. Seriously, take a moment and picture it.

She clearly isn't Tae Kwon Do trained, she went after that guy straight up ghetto status. I am surprised her Jimmy Choo's stayed on in her solid body toss. I am thinking, purely for my own entertainment purposes that, Wendi was one of those Asian girls that wasn't quite smart enough to be a mathlete so she hung out with the ghetto girls in high school and wore wife beaters with cholo jeans. She clearly smartened up marrying one of the richest men in existence and I have to say, she's probably my new favorite person ever. The whole thought of the younger Asian, old white man relationship has been bothersome to me for a long time. I guess the answer to that question is plainly put in this video. He gets a hot young wife along with security detail, she gets to down 40's of Tecate in Chanel suits and can beat the snot out of people. You can take the girl out of the cholo jeans......
But seriously, whatever happens to Rupert Murdoch in this case, I really hope my new favorite gets the happy ending she deserves.

Why are you still single?

People keep asking me why I am still single. I have genuinely resented that question for months and have always responded with an uncomfortable response. I have said things that always made me look like I was difficult to live with or high maintenance, I once told this guy I was on a date with that I had Daddy issues.

After telling someone about my pseudo Daddy issues, I started to realize this could be a fun game. Out at a bar, after being the center of attention on the smoker's sidewalk; a decent looking man sparked up a marlboro light with conversation. He seemed interested while complimenting my sense of humor and asked if he could buy me a drink when we went back inside. I was mildly attracted to him so, it was even a surprise to me when I said, 'You seem like a really nice person and everything but I don't trust men with green eyes.' I paraded back inside to meet my friends and chuckling at my inner monologue. The strange response was just too entertaining to pass up and seemed like a much funnier story than meeting a moderately attractive man who bought me a drink, told me about his job, bored me with banter about his 3 siblings who all attended law school and listened to the timeline on his decision to 'follow his dreams to the city.' You've heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times. I mean, this IS New York.

There it started my friends, a continuous cycle of sizing men up and swallowing them whole for the pure fun of a good story. Sitting at Vynl in Chelsea with a friend, having laughs and starting conversation with the tables situated in the general vicinity, I met a group of Aussie men looking for pointers on hotspots for the weekend. One of the men from down under showed interest before telling me how he had been offered a position with his company in NYC. He would be moving here within the next three weeks and wanted to know if I would be willing to show him around, in return he would take me out for fabulous meals involving champagne and decadent desserts. I concurred and we exchanged contact information but, just before I made a clean break and left the possibility open to a future with the man from down under.... I sealed that fate. 'When you call me, please don't forget to leave your name on my voicemail. Sometimes I forget people since I'm usually tanked.'

I guess my thought process is, if these guys that are supposedly interested don't get my dry humor and obnoxious sense of reality, they probably wont last beyond date number three anyway. My game thickened a few short weeks after when the Aussie actually called. I was dumbfounded when I got the message saying, 'Ay there, it's Ben from down unda - call me for drinks this weekend.' I thought, wow... this is amazing. I treated him like he really wasn't worth a damn and basically told him I was an alcoholic but he still wants to hang out. I now want to know how far I can push this with people, all the while being asked why I am single since I seem to be such a great guy. My responses worsened from saying I have a nasty coke addiction to convincing people that I have recently escaped a polygamist commune in Utah, my name is Jed and was unwilling to succumb to my evil sexual desires. As I sipped on a drink containing far too much vodka, I would receive responses asking if I should be drinking while in recovery and the genuine look of concern for the lost puppy. All the while, this has been my entertainment for the night if the gogo boys weren't hot enough to keep my attention.

I started to consider myself a bit of a sociological genius. I have been truly creating experiences for people to pull back together in a hangover haze while I'm completely content with a night out even if the music sucked and the drag performer that particular evening just didn't impress. Then the inevitable happened. I sure did meet my match when I least expected it.

There were no cocktails involved, just a simple afternoon consisting of coffee when I was bombarded by an acquaintance who told me I was full of shit. She, yes a woman, told me I have been creating these scenarios with people because I was bored with people and don't feel as though anyone is quite worthy enough to get to know the real me. She continued by saying I have a sense of entitlement and back handed pretension that people don't generally pick up on unless they are fully aware of themselves in the moment. I mean, what do I say to that? My inner monologue was experiencing a total system failure. I had not one single witty or sarcastic response. My words came out a little something like this, 'Ugggh! You're smart. Things, but...... ew. I think, you're..... you should be a lawyer or something with your trickery. I forgot my scone.'

So there it was, a synopsis of my inner workings as seen by someone playing my very same game. I found myself finally attracted to someone that I both wanted to strangle and make out with. She was infuriating and interesting and all these other words that I couldn't seem to pinpoint. And she was a woman. So, the answer I will now give to people when I am asked the dreaded question, 'Why are you still single?' Because apparently after all this time, I am in love with a woman. That should get some laughs and obvious stamps of disbelief but at least this time, I'll sort of be telling the truth. I am disgusted with myself.

Click to Enlarge

There are few things in this life that get my fat ass out of bed and inspire me to go on a rampage of excitement. Anything to do with alcohol, glitter, food, sex and elephants. I know what you're thinking.... elephants? What's wrong with this person? Okay, so maybe you're thinking something less savory than that but, in any case, and elephant is what did it this evening.

I have a sort of kinship to the over sized and gentle dwellers of this planet. Elephants are intimidating yet graceful, large but gentle and powerful with a sense of calm. You could imagine my excitement when I stumbled across an advertisement for condoms featuring an elephant proudly sporting a hot pink condom on it's trunk....... That last sentence is where we all came together, wasn't it? And yes, pun intended. You may as well want to just go ahead and count how many times I do that.

San Diego is home to Trunk Health Products, a company that is whimsically advocating safe sex and a healthy man appendage with 'Trunk Condoms.' The deliberate package is ingenious. Not only are the condoms flesh toned and lubed up for your pleasure but, they are significantly cheaper than your standard Trojan, selling at $7.99 for a pack of twelve and currently running a promotion for $5.99. It truly is cheap to have junk on your trunk.

I wonder if the promotional price was in lew of Gay Pride celebrations, since all we gay men do for the entire months of June and July is... well, you get the picture. I have on good faith that Trunk Condoms will be making a cameo at this year's Pride festivities in San Diego to distribute and promote. Who knows, they could be a growing member in the world of safe sex.

All I know is they had me at the elephant and I have already purchased the economy pack and a T-shirt to wear to my next family function. If the t-shirt doesn't get the shock value I am looking for, I guess I'll just tell them I am wearing the economy pack as well.

Trunkcondoms.com

(You can also 'like' them on facebook)

There's a gay here.... Hide the knives!

Recent events forced me to take inventory on the people in my life and genuinely appreciate the ones who are worth a damn. I guess it's the Irish in me that boasts a strong sense of pride in family and those who are special enough to be considered apart of it, although not blood. They might drive me to consume an entire bottle of Kettle One in a sitting but when it comes down to it, those are the people that care enough to B line it to Taco Bell at 4am when Mamma is having a fierce craving. They are the people that will consume my bullshit, indulge in a blog read when they are less than interested, bring me pain killers after a softball sized cyst was removed from my ass cheek and accept an apology after I have spread a dirty rumor.

In the past I have made acquaintances that were less than savory. They all served their purpose but there always came a time to reevaluate where they fit in my life. There have been gays of all walks of life, including trashy boys from Suffolk County Long Island who would try to shove a spoon of Cocaine up my nose whenever I attempted to confide in them with a depressing situation in my life. I couldn't really see Cocaine being the answer to a bad situation, could you? There was the coworker who I knew was robbing our place of employment blind. I didn't say anything at risk of our friendship but was put in an ugly place to cover his dirty tracks. Queen, down! There was the group of uber-intelligent and wealthy older gays that were always full of compliments and hospitable with luxury accommodations in fabulous cities. It didn't take long to find out there was a knife in each one of their backs when we all went for an outing at a circuit party. (Use your imagination)

Gays are really just a very deviant and unreliable people. But, if any straight person were to make that statement I would spit on their grave. They are MY disgusting people, whether I choose to speak to those mentioned or not. I guess what I am getting at is if you should be so bold to assume a gay as a friend, hide the utensils when you go out to dinner. And always take time to appreciate the Mister Sister's that will be there when your ass is literally on the line.