Yay, I’m Gay!

It’s Pride Week in my neck of world and to kick it off I rode B’s coattails all the way to the state capital to rage at the governor’s mansion last night.

Unbeknownst to me it’s two thousand degrees in Sacramento in June and I forgot to wear deodorant so I thought it appropriate that the first hand I shook upon entering the manse belonged to someone v. tolerant of dude sweat—former NBA player Jason Collins, the first openly gay athlete to play in any of the four major North American pro sports leagues.

Other LGBTQIA+ movers, shakers and allies in attendance were Governor Gavin Newsom, Senator Scott Wiener, Empress Nicole and the Stuart Milk.

Oh yeah, these studs, too.

Remember when I didn’t wanna be gay?


Too, Well, Common

I just finished my second queer memoir of Pride Month, I Am Not Myself These Days by Josh Kilmer-Purcell, and below is my favorite passage:

I try to make myself realize that I have learned the difference between right and wrong. That there is such a thing as right and wrong. But instead I’ve learned that these are things—this “right,” this “wrong”—these are things that we are told. Simply told to believe. These are things we have not tested. And while most of the things we are told may be true, it is not until we have tested them, taunted them, flaunted them, that we truly know they are right. Or wrong. Or true. Or false. Or somewhere in-the-fucking-between. And I think I know now a little better which is which. And I also know I’ll never quit testing this world. I’ll never rely on common knowledge. Or common denominators. Or even common sense, for that matter. To do so would be too, well, common.

Hot in Herre

For the third consecutive day San Francisco is as hot as George Clooney in the hallucination scene from Alfonso Cuarón’s Gravity, so B, Sid, the dogs and I are planning to ditch our upstairs bedrooms tonight in favor of a campout in the main floor living room where it’s a much more tolerable O Brother, Where Art Thou? on the George Clooney Movie Hotness Scale.