Friday, April 27, 2012

Thrifty Spice

So there are several pretty damn magical aspects about Santa Cruz that you don’t really realize until you’re trapped here twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. One of the few pleasures of this town is the fact that it is practically swimming with thrift stores (most likely to serve the ever expanding quantity of homeless people wandering the streets downtown).  One of the finest gems in this category is found nestled on Front Street between two kind of scary parking lots. Because of the fact that it is known by several different names I’ll list them all here so everyone will know what I am talking about: Thrift Center, Santa Cruz Thrift, Community Thrift Store, and the 50% off store.

Today was the day when my ladies and I ventured off campus to go on a date night down to the Thrift Center. I have to say, I FUCKING LOVE THIS STORE. Vern got some cute shit and Vic got a little sexy black beaded onesie that she’s cutting the thong off of. I know, sounds bizarre but believe me it’s going to be sexy as fucknuts. And, even though I’m on what can only be describe as a vagabond budget, managed out the door with a T-Shirt that says “Property of Captain Morgan”. Now come on, is anything truer? I think not. I’ve taken it and cut it up into a tank for the beach tomorrow. Super excited!

So now we come to the real issue in this post, is anything better than a good thrift store? I mean, come on. When you’re in college and you need new clothes because you feel weird wearing the same thing to the same class multiple times where else will you shop? You can’t exactly go to Urban Outfitters or American Apparel every time you need a new fucking shirt or shorts. So you are left going to a store where you buy things that were probably made before you were and people gave them up to get fifty cents taken off their taxes at the end of the year. And you know what? I love it.

So we come to the question of the day: What is your favorite place to buy cheap shit? What do you usually get there? Leave a comment (any maybe a picture of your favorite thing?).

Ok, back to watching The Phantom of the Opera with my ladies.

Peace out shitfaces.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

A Tank of Gay Sharks

Dating can be a tricky subject for anyone. Now take that anyone and have them swim the waters of college looking for that special someone. Now on top of all that give them a possible 5% of the population who might be physically attracted to them based off of gender.  Just when you thought that navigating the waters of dating could not get any more challenging, think again. If you were convinced straight kids had it rough, think again.

Let’s break this shit down. The biggest complaint when it comes to dating is that finding someone to date is difficult. However, let’s take a little looksee at this one. Take a gay male bodied individual for example, we’ll call him Bettencourt. Bettencourt is a gay man who’s demographic for dating consists of other gay men. Now let’s be extremely generalizing and say that the population of the Earth is split evenly fifty/fifty between men and women. So Bettencourt, in theory, could only be attracted to fifty percent of the population. Now, out of one hundred it is theorized that ten percent would be gay. This means that five percent of the world’s population are gay male bodied individuals. Therefore, in theory, in a room filled with one hundred people a straight man would theoretically have forty-five people to date whereas Bettencourt would only have four (seeing as he would be one of the five in the room).

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not just bitching for bitchings sake. Over the past couple of months I think I have been in talks with at least ten different guys to prospectively date. I know what you might be thinking, “Well B doesn’t this go against your theory seeing how you seem to be having no problem finding gays?” Well there you would be wrong. It is true that I have been able to find gays around me, thanks to some (let’s call it) futuristic networking, but as you can tell by my thinly veiled bitterness, they were all flops. If I had a larger base of people to approach I would be able to be more selective and only try to get involved with people who I already know I would be compatible with as opposed to throwing myself around hoping something sticks.

And that brings us to the glorious question of the day: What was your worst date ever? Did you ever see the person again? Do you think they would have been good for you if the date had gone better?

And with that I return to my regularly scheduled day.

Peace out shitfaces.

The Diaries of an Insomniac

Ahh insomnia. The condition that turns upstanding citizens into full fledged zombies. I sit here in my living room contemplating why it is that I am awake at 4 a.m. and I realize that there is extremely little I can do to change my ways of living. I just spent the last hour or so lying in bed listening to my roommate snore and attempting to fall asleep with obviously no luck. I just continued to lie there, tossing and turning under my huge blanket my amazing mom made for me that I now use as my college comforter. I want so fucking desperately to sleep.

There are obviously different schools of thought when it comes to why people suffer from insomnia. The one that I get most of the time is that there is simply too much going on in my head to allow my body to relax and fall into a state of sleep. Now this may actually be true. My love life changes daily, I haven't seen my family in forever and the fact that I don't have a car anymore means that I am fucking trapped on this hill like a slave stuck in a wooden dungeon. My world, which was once expansive has been shrunk to the size of a football field, unable to go anywhere outside of roughly a mile radius from my apartment.

So then, what does this bitch need to do to remedy my ailment? The obvious answer would be to reclaim my independence and mobility by regaining access to my car. Unfortunately that is simply impossible. One does not simple go against someone to whom they are indebted $1,000 because of a handful of unpaid and extremely expired parking tickets. I would need to fully repay my mom as quickly as possible in order to return my car to my possession. However, let's be real, where the hell am I going to come up with a THOUSAND dollars when I have a total of $12 to last me until May 5th? It simply is not going to happen.

So this brings us to the question of the day: What ailment do you suffer from that you wish you could find an easy fix to? What is stopping you from fixing it? Is there someone in your life who could help you but you fear reaching out and asking for that help? Comment below with your answer and I may feature you in an upcoming entry.

I love you all for taking your time to read this. Even the ten or so page views I am getting a day so far really brighten up my life. Please subscribe to my blog to get daily entries.

Peace out shitfaces.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Ten Things Straight Girls Say to Gay Guys

So last time I mentioned that I was sorry for having such heavy subjects lately so I decided to lighten this shit up. It is with that that I present my newest list “10 Things Straight Girls Say to Gay Guys”. Enjoy.

1.“If you weren’t gay, we would totally date.” – No. Just no.

2.“You must totally love Lady Gaga.” – This pisses me off like you would not believe. I do enjoy Lady Gaga’s music, yes. However, this fucked up assumption that I do simply because I am gay is almost just mean. It is to suggest that we gay men do not have our own minds and have to do what is trendy and hip. There are those of us who actually have our own thoughts. Surprise.

3.“Why won’t you cuddle with me?” – It’s not that I want to cuddle with you because you are a girl. I don’t want to cuddle with you because we aren’t fucking. Straight girls have this concept in their heads of gay men being asexual. They see us as giant queer teddy bears they can collect and play with. The minute they accept the fact that we have anal sex they shut up real quick. Fellas, if your hag keeps saying this just go into detail about the last time you got buttfucked and I can guarantee you they will shut up really quickly.

4.“Let’s do shots!” – Do I drink? You bet your ass I do. Do I drink shot because I am gay? Hell fucking no. I drink shots because I am 19 and in college. I have found though that apparently there is some myth out there that gay men drink more shots than straight men because everywhere I go to party girls are asking to take shots with me. I’m flattered you want to get shitfaced with me but can I just have a cold beer? Thanks…

5.“If you haven’t been with a girl, how do you know you won’t like it?” – I could say the same to you bitch. Half of the time I turn this around on the girl who brings it up to me they say something along the lines of “Ew oh god no” and I want to wring their neck. What makes you think that I would like fucking a girl if I tried it and you wouldn’t? It’s just insulting. Stop being ignorant.

6.“When did you know you were ‘different’?” – When did saying this become ok? Everyone is fucking different. No two people are the same. Me being gay doesn’t make me some new special breed of different that you get to single out as being especially different. Honestly, I believe that girls are often just too fucking scared to say the word gay. Get over yourselves.

7.“I have this other gay friend. You two should totally meet. You’d be so cute together.” – In what way does this make any sense? I don’t go around giving every straight guy I meet your number. It makes no logical sense at all to do this. Just because I am a guy who likes guys and so is he does not mean that we will fall in love, settle down, and have 2.5 gaybies. It takes more than that to have a relationship. Do you want to fuck every single person who identifies in the gender you prefer? Didn’t think so.

8.“Hey girl!” – Biggest pet peeve ever. If I wished to be called “girl” I would identify as a woman. However, I am a male bodied individual who identifies as a man. In what way does any of that sound like I want to be called “girl”? Do yourselves a favor and please call me by my name before I take your “Hey girl” and shove it up your ass. Bitches.

9.“How do drag queens tuck?” – Go fucking look it up. Do you honestly think that I go around in my free-time asking my friends who do drag how they make it look like they have a vagina when they actually have a dick? Here is a surprise: I have no fucking clue. If you actually cared and wanted to know and didn’t just ask for the sake of asking, go find someone who does drag and ask them. Or if, like most straight girls, you are actually terrified of drag queens, just go back to not knowing and not caring.

10.“Let’s go shopping!” – So let’s just get right into this. I understand fully that there are gay men out there who do love shopping but let’s get one thing straight: Not all of us do and please stop assuming that just because I like dudes it means that I want to go spend seven hours with you at H&M. Nothing could be further from the truth.

So now is when I pose my question of the day: What is your least favorite stereotype? What kinds of assumptions do people make about you?

Aiight, back to paying attention in class.

Peace out shitfaces.

Monday, April 23, 2012


So I'm sitting here in the computer lab printing out the latest entry in a seemingly never ending stream of French homework assignments when it strikes me the oddity of the culture surrounding language. I mean, why the fuck do we even have different languages anymore? Beyond the idea of nationality and pride, I don't think that it is necessary to have the world cast in the shadow of misinterpretation due to language differences.

Now don't interpret this as me saying that everyone should cave to western influence and just learn English to "make it easier" for the rest of us. That is not it at all. All I am saying through this is that there should be one fucking language everyone knows in addition to their base dialect to allow the world to communicate with each other better. Think of the wars that were created in the past century and how much conflict could have been avoided if the leaders of the world were able to sit down and communicate on a common level.

It is with that that I would like to introduce a new language into the system. I am still debating on the name of this language but it would serve merely as a mediator in international relations. I know all of this sounds fancy and semi-post apocalyptic but just think of the benefits. Imagine a world where once conflict breaks the leaders could all communicate in a language that every party understands. That old saying of "lost in translation" would be as out of date as Joan Rivers's original face.

Here is what I propose: A committee meets with a copy of the dictionary and painstakingly crafts a new world language. One where the formal language is the only kind and incorporates traditions from all languages of the world. Maybe the new alphabet can incorporate some of the latin letters we use with the characters of the asian dialects. Maybe some of those crazy german words that put a whole thought into a 29 character words serve as the basis for new words. The world is our oyster and we can change it.

So here is my question: if you could create a new universal language, would you? What is the importance of having these different languages? Would the world benefit from us building our own tower of Babel?

Sorry for a more serious post today. Just been on my mind lately. I promise tomorrow's will be more upbeat and fun with loads more swearing. Titties.

Peace out shitfaces.

The Day of Total Nothingness

There are just those days where there is literally nothing you can do but sit on your couch and die. I definitely just had one of those days. And you know what. I am not ashamed. After staying awake until roughly 8 am with my housemate watching movies and drinking wine I needed a day to do nothing but think about the fact that all I want to do is nothing.

So what does one do with a day where one is doing nothing. Lemme tell you. I sat on my fat ass, ate three hot pockets, and watched movie after movie all ending with a "Friends" marathon on Nick@Nite. Best fucking day ever.

I would definitely write more but, to be perfectly honest, I am seriously so exhausted today. Question of the day: What is your perfect day? If you could literally do anything for one day what would it be? Get creative fuckers. I am interested to see what your twisted minds come up with.

Peace out shitfaces.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Boxed Wine and Baby Mama

Ahhh what a solid day. Woke up at 1:15 and was leaving campus by 1:30 for da beach. Anyone else jealous? There are definitely days where I stop myself and think, "Wow. I fucking live here? Seriously? Life is cray." But let's be real. Who the fuck would not want to live in Santa Cruz? The anti-christ. That's who. Fucking anti-christ...

And just as I thought the day could not get any better. Guess what shitfaces. It did! Had a social with a sorority who will remain un-named where I got FUCKED THE SHIT UP. I know shocking. A frat party where people got fucked up. However comma I don't really care what you think. I played beer pong and even though I lost to a freshman I don't care. That bitch is like my son. I'm proud.

Came home to my apartment where my housemates greeted me like a king. They had gone out and gotten a box of wine and were having a movie marathon. We watched Donnie Darko (for the first time since I was little) and I was so drunk I almost shat my pants. My pants were literally almost full of shat. How awkward.

And now it be time for Baby Mama. I would type more but, well, I'm not exactly sober and some kiddos are still here. So I'm gonna go and be sociable.

Leave a comment with what your favorite flavor of franzia is. Whatever gets the most votes, I will buy an entire box of and drink it in less than two hours. I promise to write very soon after the last glass.

Peace out shitfaces.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

The Laws of Attraction

As I am sitting here in my bed wearing nothing but some Hanes bower briefs and an old Bartok tank from my  drum corps days, I can't help but having a hundred things running through my head.  I keep landing back on the same thing however: how the hell anyone can decide what their "type" is.

Now let me get one thing straight. I am gay. And I have been sexually active for a pretty long time now and over the years I guess I have developed something that may resemble a "type". That "type" is apparently awkward, skinny, white boys with self-esteem problems and issues with authority. Today however I stopped myself and I asked, "B? Why the fuck won't you broaden your horizons?"

The fact of the matter is that I have fooled around with more kinds of guys than what would be considered my "type". Black guys, Asian guys, Latin guys. You name it, I've tried it.  It was this revelation as I hear the birds chirping out of my window at 4:41 a.m. that got me thinking. Can there ever be an actual set "type" or is it simply a construct that the porn industry set up in order to get us to fall into our niche?

I do realize that this is a fucking awkward realization to come to. Especially on a day like 420. Can you even imagine? How terrible. So let's get to the point of all of this. I have found myself more and more being drawn to men of Latin decent. It may be something about their smooth skin or the fact that they are dark and therefore exotic and something my older relatives may not be ok with (they aren't bad people, just a tad racist. They were born in the 20s though so we mainly ignore them and tell them to keep quiet) but I am not sure why time after time I find myself in the arms of a Latin man.

So I pose this question: what is your "type"? Do you ever break out of the mold of that type? What would your dream partner consist of? Tell me your thoughts. I'm interested.

Alright, time to go back to pretending to sleep. God it's way fucking hot here right now.

Peace out shitfaces.