Ten reasons why bacon is better than a boyfriend

1. Bacon makes your whole house smell good. When you walk into a house with bacon cooking on the stove, you say "mmm, bacon!" When you walk into a house with someone's boyfriend living there, you say "is he going to be drunk again?"

2. Bacon disappears quickly. Once it's there, it's pretty much gone. I wish I could say the same about some boyfriends I've had. Linger, loiter, lallygag! Get a job already!

3. There are so many varieties of bacon from all over the world and you can pick and choose which one you like best. Pick a boyfriend based on his ethnicity and people think you're a racist. If I hear someone call me a potato queen one more time...

4. Bacon is better when it's salty. Ugh, when you've got a salty boyfriend, that means he hasn't showered in a few days. (Thanks to Joe for suggesting this one!)

5. You can fit five to ten pieces of bacon in your mouth and still be able to talk with your mouth full. The same doesn't hold true for men. On my best day, I couldn't fit more than two without someone complaining about my teeth.

6. Fat comes off bacon so easily and all you have to do is pour the excess down the drain. You have to wait MONTHS to get fat off of your boyfriend, and that's only if you constantly remind him to do his cardio! (THANKS AGAIN, JOE! You've obviously thought this topic through)

7. When you steal bacon from someone, it's all in good fun and everyone gets a laugh out of it. When you steal a boyfriend from someone, people chase you with pitchforks and call you a Jezebel.

8. Bacon of the Canadian variety is a wonderful and tasty thing to have on a Sunday. Canadian boyfriends drone on and on about hockey, the metric system, and even worse... CELINE DION!

9. Boyfriends always do that annoying thing where they put their tongue in your ear or leave a trail of kisses down your back. Bacon is a million times better because it goes straight to your thighs!

10. Bring home the bacon and your family holds you in the highest regard. Bring home a boyfriend and your sisters take wagers from your aunts and uncles as to how long this newest one will last.

Woe is me, channel 143

If you'd told me ten years ago that there would be a gay television network like Logo, I would have called you a liar and whipped you with a rubber hose. Growing up, we all used to throw a party whenever something gay was going to be on television. We had a crush on Ryan Phillipe when he was on One Life to Live and were outraged that he didn't get enough screen time. We were there when Ellen announced over the airport loudspeaker that she was gay. Now there are entire networks devoted to gay-themed programming. So why do I have such a bad taste in my mouth? (get your mind out of the gutter!)

Whenever I tune in to Logo, I always manage to catch some documentary about HIV or AIDS and how someone is coping with it. Sometimes I am lucky enough to be able to see that wonderful and so completely entertaining reality show with the two gay musician brothers (not so entertaining!). Then I saw that movie "Beautiful Thing" and I could have sworn that I lapsed into a boredom coma.

It's like Christmas time on XM Satellite radio when you hear them playing "Hard Candy Christmas" by Dolly Parton on the Christmas channel just because the song has the word "Christmas" in the title. Only the hardcore Dolly fans know that the song has nothing to do with Christmas. They just stuck it in there because of the title. That's how I feel about Logo. It seems as if they just plop movies and crap reality shows on there just because it's got homosexuals in it. Maybe they're just putting all the gay stuff on the channel, no matter how bad it may be, to act as a history lesson to show us how things used to be.

Still, I really don't find myself glued to the television watching the gay network. I just think that there's more to being gay than loving cocks and man spankings. It's our duty to showcase our witty and edgy perspective while still maintaining the sharp-tongued and slightly bitchy attitude that sets us apart from the models in the Sears catalog. When non homosexuals tune in to watch Logo, they're all going to think that we're boring pity whores because of what's currently on the lineup.

I'd love to see gay sketch comedy show. Gays and lesbians have been the butt of many mainstream sitcom jokes, and I think that it's time to turn it around and have a show where they constantly make fun of straight people. Don't think so? Well, In Living Color had enormous success poking fun at white people.

There should also be a plucky young gay person with a microphone going around to normal people on the streets and calling people out on their stupidity. He or she can go to a gay bar and hold up two seemingly identical shirts. The person has to identify which one is couture and which one came from Wal Mart. The idea is to show that hardly anyone can tell the difference and that we get too caught up in fashion that we end up paying a hundred bucks for a stupid t shirt that looks exactly like something you'd find at a bargain store.

If it were me, I'd have both of the shirts be from Wal Mart and the person on the street would end up looking like an idiot because they'd always be wrong.

Flirt Alert

Whenever I need to ship a package overnight, I go to my friendly neighborhood Kinko's and a young man who I'll call "Seth" always helps me out. He used to just make small talk with me, discussing the weather or a recent must-see movie. Then it progressed into raised eyebrows and sexual innuendo. Soon after, he started to call me 'babe' and began using the sexy goodbye wink. That was all I needed to construct an unhealthy fixation that resulted in various sexual fantasies starring me as the eager Kinko's customer who gets shown how to properly use the shipping labels. Wow! A funny and sexy man was flirting with ME! Cut to me floating away on a cloud of twitter dust.

My fantasy was quickly deflated when I found out that he had a girlfriend. The nerve! Why would someone toy with the emotions of a young gay man in need of overnight delivery? It suddenly hit me that he is one of those straight people who enjoys the attention he can get from gay boys who get hot from being in his presence. Epiphany usually makes me hungry, so I went to get a sandwich at a nearby deli in the neighborhood. Wait, that's just something I tell people to sound witty. The truth is that the only thing you can do when you realize that you've been had by a straight boy is to eat your problems away.

Audrey, the girl who always makes my sandwich, was very glad to see me that day. I slyly remarked to her that she was one of the few women who knew how to handle my meat properly and she gave me a free bag of chips. Then I left the deli with that "woohoo" feeling that roosters feel when they pass through a yard full of hens. But I was hit with yet another realization: I'm doing the same thing to Audrey as Seth is doing to me.

Irony is a bitch, ain't it? Here I am angry because Seth was using me to fulfill his need for gay affection and I'm leading Audrey on. I don't think she even knows I'm gay.

Here's what I learned from my experience:

Flirt with anything that has a pulse. It's essential for the survival of the Human race. Confused? I'll explain. When you flirt with someone, it stirs up feelings that he or she can't readily process. They have to think about how they feel, then quickly act upon that feeling or else it'll go away. They don't know what it is, but they like it. They'll make themselves look better or smell better to attract the other person. Fast forward a hundred years and you've got a great-smelling, well-polished species that any invading alien would be proud to attempt to conquer.

So the next time a straight man grabs your cock in the shower, don't get mad because he's messing with your mind. Thank him for looking out for his fellow Human.

Wallop the Trollop

I got an e-mail from Mad River Bar and Grill, promoting their nuts and bolts party for Valentine's Day. You can't really go out to a bar or club on Valentine's Day without being subjected to one of the gimicky theme parties that they do every year. Some places do the nuts and bolts, where one person has a nut and the other person has a bolt and they go around putting their bolts in other peoples' nuts until they find the right match. It's a great way to say "screw Valentine's Day!" There's also speed dating, post office, and other hokey matchmaking devices. Personally, I don't know why these bars are even bothering with something that people will forget the next day. They assume that everyone is outgoing and comfortable talking to strangers and the evening gets lame very quickly.

That's why I came up with a fun and memorable way for people to spend their Valentine's Day. Everyone brings an 8x10 face photo of their ex-boyfriend or girlfriend. Then we cut eye and mouth holes to make masks out of the pics and place them on unsuspecting volunteers. The person then gets to select a non lethal weapon from a weapon rack with padded nunchucks, pugil sticks, pepper spray, guns with rubber bullets, and flash grenades. Then we'll play the Benny Hill theme song for thirty seconds while the person gets to beat the shit out of the person wearing the mask of his or her ex lover. This wild and crazy game will be called "Wallop the Trollop."

"But Richie, that's so violent!" I know I'll get e-mails about this. When you think about it, Valentine's Day started with violence. A Roman emperor had St. Valentine beaten and beheaded for performing secret marriages against his decree. Beating the shit out of images of your ex boyfriend is not unhealthy. If anything, it makes you appreciate the non-violent part of your life. Only when you acknowledge the hurt and embarrassment that you had to go through while in your relationship and when you release it through non-lethal torture will you be able to move on with your life.

I think the world would be a different place if we instituted "Wallop the Trollop." You won't have women running over their husbands with their cars or diaper-clad astronauts trying to kidnap people in parking lots. You know I'm right!

Ten reasons why Tivo is better than a boyfriend

1. You tell Tivo what you want and Tivo finds it for you. Tell your boyfriend to find stuff for you and all of a sudden you're "demanding."

2. Tivo doesn't wear underwear, so you never have to worry about Tivo borrowing your favorite pair of low rise briefs (the ones that make your ass look like a million bucks) and leaving skid marks in them.

3. When you don't like what you see or hear, Tivo gives you the power to skip past all of it. You can't do that when your boyfriend is talking about the mundane details of his day at work or else you'll hurt his FEELINGS! ::violin music playing::

4. You don't ever have to feel guilty leaving Tivo at home while you do fun stuff with your friends. I can't tell you how many gay men won't come to a gay burlesque show with a group of fun guys unless his boyfriend is also invited.

5. Tivo is always 'in the loop,' constantly gathering information just for your satisfaction. How many times have you had to explain a pop culture reference to your boyfriend because he's never heard of Riverdance or Dilbert?

6. Tivo never gains weight. Not that that matters, but it's nice to be able to pick something up without breaking your back.

7. Push Tivo's buttons and you get to watch The Sopranos. Push your boyfriend's buttons and his voice gets all whiny and he goes to his room and cries like a little bitch because he's so SENSITIVE!

8. Tivo only connects to the internet to update scheduling information. My last boyfriend only connected to the internet because he was trying to hook up with a bunch of cracked out queens who need viagra to get it up.

9. Tivo has won two Emmy awards. Isn't it nice to brag to your friends how you've got a two time Emmy winner living in your apartment? How many Emmy awards has YOUR boyfriend won in his life?

10. Tivo never asks you loaded questions like "Do you think I'm cute?" or "How many people have you ever slept with?" or "Is this the best blowjob you've ever had, or what?"

... like a fuck buddy scorned

If you get around as much as I do, it happens all the time. You'll be walking down the street, sitting on the train, chatting it up with your friends at the bar, or ordering food at a restaurant. Then you see someone you think you know, so you consult your internal fuck buddy database. You use your own form of facial recognition programming to match a certain jawline or a shape of the nose to that guy you met a year ago who points his toes when he ejaculates.

Finally, you're sure that you've made a positive ID and you go in to say hello. But he does his best to avoid eye contact with you from across the room! Puzzled, you step closer and notice that he's got that "oh shit" look on his face as he tries to come up with an excuse as to why he tried to give you the slip earlier. It could be any one of these tired excuses:

1. I didn't recognize you.
2. I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure! How are you?
3. No, I don't think we've met.

It's called the Fuck Buddy Burn. This happens when you encounter one of your fuck buddies in public and they give you the cold shoulder. I could never understand why people act that way. It's just sex. It's not like we stole top secret documents from the Russian nuclear program and we're in fear of being seen in public together. If you feel so ashamed to see one of your butt boys out in public, then you shouldn't be inviting them over at 3 a.m. to play hide and seek with the one-eyed trouser snake.

There's a certain code of ethics in the world of casual sex that makes things less awkward for everyone. You should always treat people with an ounce of respect, no matter how weird or amazing the sex was between you and them. This means you don't smother them with affection or pretend not to know them when they say hello.

After a recent burn an old fuck buddy at a bar, I decided to grill him for some info. He claimed that he wanted to put that chapter of his life as far behind him as possible, implying that what I'm still doing (hardcore fucking with as many men as possible) is morally reprehensible. But you just can't ignore your past like it's an unpaid speeding ticket. One day it will come back to make you miserable, so you should just fucking pay it right then and there. Do you get the connection?

I'm not a bad person. If I were a bad person, I would have ignored the fact that he was there with his boyfriend and asked him when he was going to come over again to spank me with a duck shaped letter opener.