Stories from a man who fails to meet media expectations of what it means to be gay:
white, frivolous, over sexed yet sexless, shrill, single, stylish, a clown, unimportant, et al.

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This is not a links page

aka: Random Chisme

A bunch of random things. Some I forgot to include in earlier entries, others I'm just thinking of now. No, there is no theme and taken as a whole they don't make much sense together, nothing to worry about.

John and I have a friend who got into a huge fight with his wife in the delivery room when she gave birth to their first daughter. He had suddenly decided that Sacajewea would be the perfect name for instead of the previously decided on Rosanna. He lost the argument.

The reason I mention this is because I've heard that he suggested to another mutual (pregnant) friend of ours that Cherimoya would be the perfect girls name.

Her response was "The fruit ?!?"

His answer was "Well, yeah, but think about it. Her nickname could be Cherry, or Moya, or even Mo. It's perfect!"

Her response to that amazing argument was "The fruit !?!"

Bryan mentioned a queer bashing of sorts in his last entry. This has made me think about a similar/dissimilar experience that Kristen and I had years ago. Go read Kristen's version of the story, it's better than mine.

"Speaking" of Kristen, she has put together an anime site titled apropriately enough, This Lesbian's Guide to Anime. As I said in an earlier entry, ALL my friends take their hobbies seriously. hehe

So, if anime is your thing, check it out.

I drove by a Christen bookstore the other day. Not so strange, except that according to the very large signs in the front window it sold bibles, software, phone cards and sexy women's underwear.

If you must lie to the government about your name, at least choose a name you know how to spell.

Maerquiez? (yeash, how stupid did he think I was?)

A different The second Time story :

I was twenty-three and had been with John for a year. I was an out gay man, yet I wasn't. I had never told my parents that I was gay. Thing is, they knew and I knew they knew and they knew I knew and so on.

I was determined that this was going to change. I was going to tell them. I had tried once before when I was still in school. It did not go well and the important words "I am gay" were never said.

This time was going to be different. I was an adult, I didn't live at home anymore and I was going to do it right this time dang it!

So I drove to my parents house convinced that enough is enough, We are going to have this conversation. I got out of my car, walked up the front walk and reached for the front door. I was ready, I was able, I was going to do this. Before I could even get my key into the door, my mother opened it and thrust the ugliest wooden crucifix I had ever seen in my entire life into my hand.

As I stared at it she told me that she had been really worried about my soul.

We didn't have the conversation that day.

A small qualifier to the story. When I tell this story in person, people usually interrupt me and ask how did I know that my folks knew? Maybe they didn't.

I usually respond that I assumed that they knew back then because in nearly every single argument I had with my mom thoughout high school and college, she would end up yelling at me to stop messing around with muchachos and get a girlfriend already.

As for my father, well back when I was in high school, he saw far more than he wanted to when he caught Tony and me going at it in my bedroom one afternoon. ;-)

Considering that some of the writers of the journals I follow have decided to take breaks, I have been looking around for even more sites to read. I'm just a good little addict aren't I?

So, blatantly stealing borowing an idea from Chay, here are some sites that I have been checking out lately:

Have fun and try 'em out.

More later,

nico

oh, uh, by the way, chisme=gossip.

hence the spanglish phase:

"Oy (insert name of whoever it is you are talking to) what's the cheese?"

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