This past weekend I saw the Paul McCartney photography exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum and an evening of Indian comedy at Lincoln Center, but all I can think about is a guy singing off key at Strawberry Fields.
It's been so hot, the other day the metal clasp on my hat started burning my skin. #climate š§¢š„
Iām on the subway and thereās a group of young teenage girls singing āI want it that wayā by The Backstreet Boys. I remember singing that at their age. You never know whatās going persist! Theyāre much bettered singers tho. šµ
I found these pants for ten bucks thrifting and cut them into shorts. I just finished doing a very sloppy hemming but Iām happy with the result.
A Masculine Aside
Yo yo yo! So I was at a party the other day, (Well, night really. I was at a party the other night, specifically the last one that happened. Yeah, last night. It was last night that the rest of this sentence, the subject of which you have by now no doubt forgotten, happened) and it had eighteen wheels! (Just kidding about the eighteen wheels bit, I was just testing you to see if you remembered the subject of the sentence, which was that I went to a party. I am well aware that the sentence, āI went to a party and it had eighteen wheelsā makes no logical sense whatsoever, so please if youāre a Reason Nazi and reading this (as opposed to injecting this), hold your angry letters. I am also aware that injecting a printed humor column, as opposed to reading one like a normal laws-of-physics abiding person, is totally absurd. I added it for comedic value only, as it pointed out an exploitable redundancy in my own writing. As Newton himself once famously said, āThere is no earthly power that can in any way transform the knowledge of a printed humor column into an inject-able substanceā¦except on Sundaysā)
Right, so I wasā¦I wasā¦what was happening to me again? Damn it, I completely lost my train of thought. Iāve made so many implausible detours of logic it makes Boston driving seem humanly possible. Okay, Iām going to start over. Here we go.
Last night I went to a party. Now this particular party was a pajama party, meaning that everyone had to be wearing sleepwear (Yes, even you Larry). However, I didnāt have any sleepwear aside from a pair of green Fubu pants that were in the laundry. I thought about showing up wearing only my boxers, because thatās what I usually sleep in, (If you thought THAT was too much information, just wait until I say scrotum!) however I deemed it too risky as none of them had a button in front. Why is it that boxers are manufactured without that button? Is it some shrewd money saving scheme, or do underwear companies legitimately want their customers flopping out every time they make sudden movements? In my opinion, this is solid evidence to support the Gay Mafiaās existence. Anyway, I decided against wearing boxers for the above wang related reason, and instead arrived dressed for sleep in jeans and a T-shirt. Obviously this did not go over well, and I was quickly whisked away to be properly pajama-ed. Moments later I rejoined the party wearing a skin-tight lacy black see-through top with pink polka dot shorts that barely covered my upper thighs.
Now, this brings me to the topic, (Finally, right? I mean, who introduces the topic more than halfway through their column? You must be thinking, āJesus, I start reading this column, and itās nothing but huge parentheticals which are barely related to the topic, which he JUST introduced! And when I say huge parentheticals, I mean HUGE parentheticals. The digressions go on for ages! I wouldnāt be surprised if he started writing about gerbils reciting Hamlet in space. Imagine that! How could you even describe something so absurd? Pop? What a prick this Silence Doless is!) and a lemon in a freezer. (Just kidding. This weekās topic is not āand a lemon in a freezer.ā Hey, it was just a joke. A joke I tell you! Put me down you crazy Nazis! Ok, Ok, Iām starting over.)
This weekās topic is being comfortable in oneās own masculinity. I sure am, are you? If youāre not sure, take this handy quiz. NOTE: Results may vary if you are female.
- Do you have a penis?
- Do you think about your penis?
- Have you ever thought about someone elseās penis?
- Do you watch Scrubs?
If you answered No to any of the above questions, you are clearly not comfortable with your own masculinity. If you answered No to all, you could be in the closet. If this is the case, please, for your own sake, stop grunting, spitting, swearing, having sex with women, etc. and come out already! Itās okay to be gay, whatever the pope may say. Be proud of who you are. If the whole world ever seems like it is about to crush you under itās intolerant heel, just take this humor column and inject it into the worldās toe. Whether it laughs or cries, or just gets pissed off, that fact that it has a giant syringe sticking out of its foot should buy you enough time to get away. Besides, if you stay locked in that closet forever, bad things will start to happen. Sure, youāll be locked in there with Tom Cruise, but heās clinically insane these days anyway. However the real danger comes from within. Well, within the family, really. As soon as the Gay Mafia hears about your denial, theyāll smack you so hard on the exposed wang youāll wish you didnāt have one (refer back to quiz question A). So please folks, letās strive to make a better world, and stand up for who we are, whoever we are (Oh, and by the way, scrotum).
Well, there I was, being a doofus in 2007. This piece isn't great overall, but the ending where I give advice to gay men makes my skin crawl. The whole thing feels like a mess. Anyway, apologies regarding the past from the future.
Here's how my hemmed cut offs looked as pants. Off of @starshaped@labyrinth.social post.
I don't like a lot of Red Hot Chili Peppers music, (although I've listened to most of it), but the out-of-character Warped still kicks so much ass. šµ
Iām looking at a prominent scar on the side of my hand. Looks like me a deep cut. I have no memory of how I got it. Cool cool.