Earnest Naming Way

I posted this a while ago, but it got stamped with the wrong date and was filed in the archives. I don't know if anyone read it, so I'll repost it. Enjoy!


There was a letter in Dear Abby last month about giving children unusually spelled names. There were a lot of heated discussions involving the unique naming of children. She advised against having baby names creative or spelled unusually, and people were all upset. One woman argued that in a world full of Christophers and Jennifers, a unique name was one of the best things that a parent can do to make sure that their child would stand out. In the world of gay men, a name has very little to do with individuality. Hell, I even have trouble remembering dudes' names when we're fucking.

In school, teachers have the worst time pronouncing kids' names. If they're Filipino, forget about getting the pronunciation right on the first try! As a person with a creative name, I totally understand how difficult it could be for some people. Yes, my own mother decided to be creative when she named me. Read on!

In the weeks leading up to my sixteenth birthday, my mother kept hinting to me that she would give me a very special gift. The only hint she gave me was that it had something to do with my middle name, James. Then when the day arrived, I opened my gift and was puzzled. It was an old vinyl record with a man on the cover. He was leaned against a street post with braids in his hair and shiny red leather boots hiked up his thighs.

It was Rick James. My mother gave me a Rick James record. My mother named me after Rick James! AAAARGH! She explained to me that he was a really popular singer at the time I was born, and they thought it would be fun to have a Richard James in the family. If that was the case, why aren't my sisters named Carly and Joan (Simon and Baez)?

When you see the upwelling of names like Nevaeh (heaven spelled backwards), Machennzeigh (Mackenzie), and River, you have to wonder if doctors are secretly putting LSD into women's prenatal vitamins. Are parents really doing it for the children, or are they just trying to make themselves look all foo-foo avant-garde in the eyes of their peers?

So for all you mothers out there who are thinking of naming your children after campy singers from the 70s and 80s, remember that your sons will grow up to be fabulously gay, deeply resentful, and they'll put you in a nursing home faster than you can spell Suri Cruise.

%*#$@^!

A while back, I saw that one of Margaret Cho's performances would be on Logo, so I tivoed it to watch later. It was the Notorious C.H.O. and I had the pleasure of actually seeing her perform it when I lived in Houston. I sat in front of the woman who was signing for the deaf and hard of hearing, which made the show a hundred times more entertaining. FYI, the sign for "fisting" is making a small hole with the fingers of the left and and plunging the right fist through it with a bit of force. Margaret used the word 'fisting' so often in her show that the woman who was signing began to take artistic license, adding a little shake of the fist after she plunged it through.

I got all ready to enjoy the show through the magic of tivo, until about two minutes into it where she talks about giving blowjobs to rescue workers at ground zero. The wonderful Logo network, which I love three days out of the week and spend the rest of the time vexing, bleeped out the word 'blowjob.' It didn't stop there. Other words that were bleeped (aside from the obvious 'fuck,' 'pussy,' and 'shit') were anus, fisting, and cum. For those of you who have seen the show, you'd know how annoying this would be during Margaret's rant about how she can't "cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum" when her boyfriend fucks her.

I think that it's just wrong that all of those words were bleeped. Bleeping all of the curse words in a Margaret Cho show is like taking all of the almonds and marshmallows out of rocky road ice cream. Without it, it's just not that exciting. It's a fucking GAY network on cable, for crying out loud. It's not like they have a responsibility to protect the fragile minds of children. People who are old enough to know that they're gay aren't going to care if they hear a few curse words every now and then. They're more worried about holding hands with another gay person in public without being pelted with small rocks and various foodstuffs.

I have no problem with the use of profanity. Used correctly, I believe that it can enhance a situation. Shy people NEED to swear when they're really upset or else the world would just continue to ignore them. Naval officers need to swear so that we can use the term "swear like a sailor" without sounding dumb. I need to swear in order to keep up the 'tough gay boy who's had a difficult childhood' facade that I started when I was a wee lad swearing on the playground and to my mother.

Profanity in children is absolutely vital because it marks the turning point in childhood that separates the kids who ride in the back of the school bus with the smokers from the kids who still need an adult to cross the street. Remember the first time you called your mom a bitch? Didn't you just feel so grown up and tough? Nothing would be the same after that!

What I love is that you can see South Park in syndication and hear the word 'pussy,' but you can't hear the word 'fisting' on a cable network. Boo! Maybe in about ten years when America has become completely desensitized, we can finally watch a comedy routine the way it was meant to be seen. Until then, we're at the mercy of the dumbasses in Standards and Practices for all of the networks.

Beer, Boobs, and Buffalo Wings

It may come as a shock to a lot of people that there are some gay men in the world who actually eat food. I know, right!?!? How scandalous! We all don't have 1% body fat and we all can't live off of altoids and propel fitness water for months at a time. Eating out is a wonderful experience, especially in the summer time. You get your fill of some nice food that you didn't prepare yourself, and a nice treat for the eyes as scads of gorgeous shirtless men pass by.

Many gay men have problems eating out because restaurants are either too expensive, too crowded, not cruisy enough, or just plain dirty. The Taco and Burrito Palace on Halsted St. comes to mind. They charge 1.99 for a medium drink with no refills, the seats are sticky with what you HOPE is dried soda, and the closest thing to a cute guy is the one chef who ISN'T picking the wax out of his ears. Ugh!

So what's the one place where a gay man can go to get reasonably priced food, instant seating, and a ton of hottie hot men to ogle? Why, HOOTERS, of course!

Before you roll your eyes, just consider that the average lunch or dinner for two gay men in the city of Chicago can cost upwards of $35 to $40 at a hip restaurant that's advertised in Metromix. Two gay boys can go to Hooters for about half that price. You have enough money left over to get a cocktail afterward or rent a nice porn video. Imagine that!

I've also never had to wait to be seated at a Hooters. The women are so glad that the gay men aren't there to stare at their goodies that they find a table for them quickly and treat them like kings... er, queens. It's a very relaxed environment for the gays because it's one of the few places where we don't have to keep up appearances for fear of being talked about at the bars later that night.

For all the queers sneering at Hooters food because they think it's unhealthy, you should know that they now offer skinless chicken and other healthy alternatives to the classic menu.

Finally, the most important reason why I go to Hooters is the abundance of smoking hot straight boys. You know I love the breeders! They always travel in packs and if you're lucky, you can corner one of them in the restroom and give him a quick hand job because he's so drunk. I really love watching their eyes as they're looking at the waitress' titties. You wonder if they're wanting to put their face in it or if they want to grow a pair for themselves.

Don't be so quick do dismiss Hooters as one of your frequent eateries. The ladies at Hooters always love their gay customers, so you'll always feel welcome.

The Obligatory Gay Orgy Post

How do you know when you've "arrived?" Is it when you move into a building where the door person calls you 'sir' or 'madame?' Is it when UPS assigns you your very own delivery man to handle all of the presents at your lavish wedding? Is it when you manage to snag fantastic seats for an opening night gala at the opera? Is it when you walk into an Hermes boutique and aren't turned away when you want to get in after normal business hours? Heavens, no! You haven't TRULY arrived until you've been invited to a gay orgy at a swanky hotel!

Planning a gay orgy is a lot like assembling a task force for a covert CIA operation. You always have your best men on the job. You want to make sure that everything goes smoothly and that there are no casualties. Everyone involved has to participate as a team or else the mission will fail. You also can't have one person who is better at everything than everyone else. Balance individual talents and strengths and weed out the weak and slow, and everything will happen the way it was meant to happen. Orgies are always fun because guys always want to perform at their peaks, so you'll always walk away from one with at least two sore areas on your body.

I was recently invited to a hotel orgy, and I must admit that I was a tiny bit giddy. I'm the type of CIA agent that does better on solo missions, but to be chosen for a team objective is definitely an honor! I saw the other guys who would be attending and they were very snacky! I quickly went over in my mind what kinds of fun things I could do to stand out. Then I remembered that nobody likes an orgy upstager. If you've ever seen "The Other Side of Aspen IV," you'd know which faking bottom I am talking about. He was the one who had to be the loudest and sweatiest so that everyone would turn their heads to look at him. Orgies are a group effort, and it's very tacky to be the moaning power bottom.

If you are lucky enough to participate in a hot gay hotel orgy, just remember to have fun. It's not like you're interviewing for a job on Wall Street. Relax, open wide, and get ready for a right pounding! Just make sure that you're playing safe and that nobody is cracked out. There's nothing more annoying than being a bottom and waiting for the dude to get hard because he's snorted a half ton of crystal meth. Boo! Hugs, not drugs!