friday already?

Spring is here and the onslaught of fun activities continues!
Wait…onslaught probably isn't the word I'm looking for.
In fact, with a quick check of my trusty dictionary, I see onslaught means "a violent attack."
Eh – what are you gonna do?

Tonight a very lovely lady in my building is taking me out to dinner. Why?
Because I'm fantastic. We're going to Bang. I've heard it's great. And there ain't nothing wrong with its name either.
Tomorrow I'm invited to a big gay birthday bash. I think just about every gay guy I know is going to be there. I'm totally digging house parties lately - as an alternative to hanging around bars all the time.
I've been invited to join a dinner party club. Well, not a club exactly – but just a group of really fun people who get together every other Sunday night and have a nice dinner and drink wine and shit. Yay – dinner party club! A bit classier than getting wasted at the beer bust, no?
And Monday night my bud M. invited me to go to the Avs game. Rah! AND he works for a certain fancy investment firm that holds a suite at the Pepsi Center, so we're going to be rocking the suite. Rocking the suite baby! Beer! Beer! Beer!
Beer. And I only live about five blocks from the Pepsi Center so I can get all rowdy and trashed and then have a burly hockey player carry me home. I love that hockey shit! RAWR!

I guarantee if all goes well I should have some interesting blogging material next week.
I hope all you fabulous people have a wonderful weekend too!
Get some action!

just a random, funny, slightly damp story

I don't know why I haven't blogged about this already – probably because it happened during my blogging drought – but I thought it was pretty rad.

I was at JR's about two or three weeks ago hanging with my bud P. This kid is brilliant – I'm crazy about him. He's just so good-natured and complimentary and low-maintenance and drama-free. Anyway, we were having a gay old time sitting on a couple stools at the corner of the bar closest to the door.
So while we're talking this WASTED guy somewhere in his late 40's walks up behind P. And he leans in really close. Like, his face is about two inches from the back of P.'s head. I know it sounds strange, but we weren't particularly concerned about it. I mean, if you've ever been in a gay bar I'm sure you've seen far stranger things than that. But then the guy started mumbling shit in a really low voice. And after about the third or fourth thing he mumbled, P. kind of turned his head to the side to see what the guy wanted. At that point the guy wandered off and we went on with our conversation.

Then about two minutes later a guy who used to live in my last apartment building came up to us with a disgusted look on his face. He was like, "Hey guys – you might want to move. That guy just peed all over the place." We look down and there's a LAKE of urine around our stools. We freaked out and had to take a mini-jump from our stools to avoid the pee. Turns out the guy had walked up behind P., whipped out his cock, taken a huge leak, and then just drunkenly stumbled away.
Apparently, he did get escorted out soon after. I didn't see that happen.
And fortunately since we were up on stools no pee got on P.

But…isn't that crazy? Water sports in a crowded bar? Now that's a first for me.

the weekend, vol.4

Sunday my big plan was to go lie in the park and get some sun, but even though it looked really nice and sunny outside it was all a big scam because once I stepped outside I realized the wind was about 82 m.p.h. and it was colder than a witch's tit. So what did I do? I just drove and drove, of course! I drove over to the University of Denver and past the first apartment I lived in - which was a total nightmare shithole. I got the strangest feeling looking up at the sad little second-story window that looks out from the shower over the dirty alley, remembering what my life was like six years ago when I lived there in that nightmare shithole where I was horribly homesick every day for at least a year and wanted to kill myself at least once or twice a week from grad school overload.

(A quick aside: Why people ever think it's a good idea to put a window in the shower I have no idea. I've had two apartments like that here in Denver. Maybe I'm a prude, but I don't want windows anywhere NEAR my shower. I'm sorry, but I'm a lady and a lady just keeps certain things to herself. Ha – unless it's late at night in the backroom of a gay bar!)

I was going to go to the Wrangler beer bust around 4:30, but when I drove by and saw approximately 742 thirsty fags standing in line I said fuck it and went to JR's instead. Things were much calmer there and I was able to get my drink on in the way god intended. Plus the all-you-can-drink glass is $2 cheaper.
The only negative part of the afternoon was shot time. Larry was giving out shots right and left, but they were Depth Chargers – extra-heavy on the Jager. HARF!!
I turned down the first couple he tried to shove into my face, but I was eventually shamed into doing them by everyone around me calling me a pussy.
I seriously felt like I was going to instantly puke. I could not get that taste out of my mouth.
I can still vaguely feel the evil in my body.
And, hence, Jager has moved up a spot on my enemies list.
I was back home by 8:00 and my tentative plan was to get to bed nice and early, but instead I ended up inviting my new Wrangler make-out buddy to come over and play.
So…yada, yada, yada – let's just say I was REALLY tired on Monday. But in a content, post-sex kind of way.

The end.

the weekend, vol.3

Saturday was beautiful here in Denver. Just a gorgeous, gorgeous spring day.

I, of course, was out and about running errands in my fabulous car (HELLO SuperTarget!). I just drove and drove. Happy as a clam. Then I went to the gym, and it was so nice because I had the whole place to myself. Lately that gym has been fucking psycho with everyone trying to get rid of their love handles before summer arrives. But I guess on Saturday everyone was out enjoying the sunshine and getting natural exercise instead of being cooped up in the gym.

That night was L.'s engagement party at the Mercury Café. Very swanky. They had the whole upper floor decked out with food, booze, DJ, etc. I enjoyed a couple glasses of champagne, got to meet some of the people I'll be traveling to the Bahamas with in May, and I even busted out my emergency cigarette from my glove compartment...just because it was such a special occasion.
L.'s fiancee and I had an interesting discussion about the type of alcohol that makes us fucking crazy. His is white wine. Mine is definitely champagne. I'm not talking just a glass or two, but any more than that and I'm completely uninhibited.
I go loco and behave much like hotbabe does after drinking Jag.

Then I had to stop by the Atomic Cowboy for yet ANOTHER birthday. I also swung by JR's but I was feeling pretty wiped so I actually went home way before bar close and sat on my couch like a zombie and watched Roseanne.
God - sometimes I don't even know who I am anymore…

The birthday boy and yours truly... 

Getting down with the birthday boy's sisters... 

Sharing an extra-special birthday hug...

the weekend, vol.2

Friday night was the prom-themed birthday party, and I had a blast. A lot of the people who were there are my oldest friends here in Denver.

I only knew one guy when I moved here in 1999 and he introduced me to all his buds who are still my good friends to this day. I don't get to see them as often as I'd like to (because they're all getting married and procreating and such), but when I do it almost feels like a high school reunion – except I actually like these people and they haven't gotten all depressed and ugly-looking.
I'll post a picture from the party as soon as I get them downloaded.
I thought I looked pretty fucking swanky in my cream-colored dinner jacket and various accoutrements.
The only drawback to the party was that there were a lot of little kids there. Like, a LOT. That bugged me a little since I don't really care much for children. I felt like I had to watch my language, even though they were blasting songs like "Erotic City" and that one slutty Pussycat Girls song – oh wait, I guess that really doesn't differentiate the tune since all their songs are slutty.
So if that won't warp their minds I guess me dropping an F-bomb or two won't either.
I am definitely a little evil, though, because at one point I went downstairs to get my camera and a five or six-year-old was sitting down there watching a movie in her PJs and she was hysterically crying for her mom for no apparent reason (like, I could see no bumps on her head or kidnappers anywhere in sight) and I told her I'd go get her mom, but when I got upstairs her mom was WAY over on the other side of the party with about a thousand people in between us so I just decided to forget it because I was already standing right by the booze. I mean, the kid has got legs right? If she wants her damn mom she should find her herself. Builds character.

Around 11:00 I ran home to change because I was supposed to meet another birthday party at Boyztown – this skeezy male strip club on Broadway. I never found the people I was supposed to meet, but I did drop a few bills just for the hell of it. Strippers rule.

THEN for some reason I still don't quite understand I decided to stop by the Wrangler for a nightcap. At about 1:30 I went to the backroom bathroom to take a leak. And there were two guys on the other side of the trough playing with themselves. Just playing and playing and playing and having a surly, gay old time. One was all burly and had a big moustache and a black cap and some sort of leather strappy-thing over his hairy chest. The other was a bit more normal, run-of-the-mill looking.
I ended up making out with the run-of-the-mill one.
A little sketchy? I know. But it just randomly happened.
However, I was a gentleman and left by myself, even though I could have most certainly gotten laid.
So please don't judge me too harshly for my unintentional bathroom-cruising.

the weekend, vol.1

* In the interest of taking others' advice (and not simply sticking to my stubborn ways like usual) I have written a big huge post about my weekend that I have subsequently divided up into four bite-sized sections for smoother literary digestion.
So enjoy - you short-attention-spanned sons of bitches!
Just kidding – love you! Muah! *

Thursday night was cool. I had a good time hanging out with S. It didn't turn out to be a love connection (at least for me), but we're remarkably similar people and I'm sure we'll be good friends. In fact, I've already seen him out and about twice since Thursday night, so I'm very happy that he randomly wrote me on connexions.
Anyway, we went to the Tavern, which was PACKED with jock-type people watching the basketball show - which we couldn't have cared less about - but we somehow managed to find a table way over in the back corner on the patio.
And when I looked around I realized we were sitting right next to my dental hygienist – whom I LOVE. I love my d.h. and I love my dentist. They are the fucking best people ever. They keep my teeth ever-so-sparkly-clean and they've got two of the best personalities I've ever had the pleasure to interact with. And they smell super good.
(I actually have a little gay crush on my dentist. I know she's a woman and has the boobies and the hoo-ha and all that junk, but I can't help it. There's just something about someone so good-looking and nice putting their hands in your mouth – you know?)
So d.h. started buying me tequila shots. Even though I was on a date it was still O.K. to be pounding tequila shots with my d.h. because he matched us shot for shot with Jager.
God I hate Jager.
It's #5 on my enemies list.

back with a vengeance

OK – it's been far too long since I've whipped up one of my crazy-long, random thoughts posts. So put on your reading glasses, grab a refreshing beverage, settle in and get comfortable!

My thoughts on TV right now:
* I was going to make a concerted effort to watch American Idol this season. Why – I don't know. But it is now apparent to me that it's just way too much work. Is it just me, or is this show on for hours and hours and hours every week? I make it through maybe one or two performances and then I get bored and start wondering what else is on. And it's not like you're able to watch the performances and then get some instant gratification by seeing someone get kicked off. Nope. You have to tune in some other night and watch that douchebag Ryan Seacrest hem and haw and procrastinate for hours before anything happens.
On the other hand, I am in love with Ace. So there's always that.
* I've fallen off watching Desperate Housewives. I still like it, but lately I've been out and about on Sunday nights. And I can always catch Sunday's Sopranos when it repeats on Wednesday. So I have no clue what's going on with that show.
* The Sopranos is back and I couldn't be happier. One of my favorite shows ever. Nuff said.
* Prison Break is back too and yes – I will be watching it every week. Even though I know my I.Q. drops an average of ten to twenty points every time I do. But…Wentworth Miller!
* I'm trying to decide whom to root for on The Amazing Race. I can't help but be drawn to those hot, cocky Florida boys, although they are the antithesis of everything I believe in and stand for. But I like a healthy ego. What can I say?
I think at this point I'm tentatively throwing my support behind the hippies.
* And in a testament to my sad, short attention span, I can barely remember what's up with Survivor because it wasn't on last week. I can say that there are a lot of really good-looking men this season, though. I must also mention that they're doing very well at voting off the dogs and the women. They got rid of the skeleton-woman, the skeleton-astronaut, and, um…who else? I don't know. Other unattractive people.
* Don’t get me wrong – I still like Lost, but… I don't know. I wasn't very enthused about it last night. Maybe it's because there haven't been many new episodes lately? I pray I haven't lost my hard-on for it.


Driving makes me crazy. Absolutely crazy. I can't believe the amount of road rage pouring out of me considering I've only been behind the wheel again for about a month. People in Denver drive like shit. I'm stunned at how inconsiderate people are. And shocked that way more people aren't ending up dead.
At some point I want to write a post about life as a full-time pedestrian. Other than rides from friends, a few cabs here and there, and the Mall Ride I walked everywhere for three years. And my life was regularly in danger from bullshit drivers.
Let me just say one thing. Pedestrians have the right-of-way. All the time. And even if someone is being retarded and is walking where they shouldn't at a moment when they shouldn't just give them the fucking right-of-way. You're in a car for christ's sake. You have heat and/or A/C and tunes and a soft comfy seat and you're probably going to get wherever you're headed a lot faster than the pedestrian. So chill.
And stop fucking running red lights – I can't tell you how many times that was almost the end of me.

I am an e-vite bitch! Honestly, I am getting e-vites right and left. This weekend I'm hitting a prom-themed 30th birthday party (and I've got a wicked-cheesy, tux-like outfit all lined up), but I'm also invited to a pub crawl up Broadway and a going-away party in LoDo. Saturday I'm attending an engagement party at the Mercury Café and I'm also invited to a birthday party at some bar on Colfax.
And that's just this weekend!
Dude.
I tell ya, being popular is so much more fun than being lame and unpopular.
And trust me – I've been both.

I have a "date" tonight. I mean, I think it's a date. I'm not sure, exactly. Some guy randomly wrote me on connexions and introduced himself, and then we bumped into each other on St. Patrick's Day when we were both drunk. Then he asked if I wanted to meet for a drink tonight. And I thought, "Why not?"
What have I got to lose? I'm not sure whether or not there will be any making out. Hopefully at least a little over-the-clothes groping.
He's actually the second guy to ask me out on connexions in the past couple weeks. The other guy is a friend of a friend, but we haven't made any definite plans yet because he's been away on spring break.
Maybe my gay stock is rising. Maybe I won't die alone!

I'm off the coffee again! Phew. What a goddamn bitch-monkey. I'm at exactly six days. I really don't think there's anything particularly wrong with drinking coffee, but when you feel like you have to have it every day by 9 a.m. or else your world will come crashing down and you may slash a coworker's throat, you may have a bit of a problem. So instead I'm trying to get a good-night's sleep as often as possible, I'm hitting the Emer'gen-C (which I LOVE and drink regularly anyway) and the green tea, and I'm checking my attitude. That's right suckers. Attitude check! I try not to get so incredibly angry when coworkers think I'm interested in hearing about their mortgage payment for their bullshit house in the suburbs or their weekend shenanigans involving a 40-something straight woman, too much alcohol, and a late-night makeout session out in the suburbs.
*yawn* Coffee really makes everything better.

Hmm – just a random tip here:
When you see an acquaintance at a party who you haven't seen in about eight to nine months, who is now busting-out pregnant, don't say, "Oh my god – either you've gotten really, really fat or I need to congratulate you!" I don't know what possessed me to say that. I was stoned at the time, but come ON. Everyone in the kitchen turned and looked at me like I'd just taken a huge shit on the table right next to the cous cous.
And then later I referred to her and her husband as breeders, which she seemed to find somewhat amusing, but not so much her husband.
I'm sorry - pregnant people make me nervous.

I've been thinking about whitening my teeth. You know, because I'm such a perfect angel now who doesn't smoke and doesn't drink coffee.
Crest Whitestripes? Has anyone used them? They just seem so damn expensive.

So…I've bumped into a couple people who I've never told about my blog who have randomly found it. Because, seriously, I tell NO ONE about it. Two of my friends here in Denver know about it, and my friends in Minneapolis, and some cool people scattered across the U.S. who are nice enough to leave comments and link to me – but that's it.
Yesterday I stopped by the little market by my apartment complex and when I walked out there were two ladies having a smoke across the street and one waved at me. And I'm pretty sure I've never seen her before in my life. And now I'm convinced she knew me from my blog. Which is hot, but also weirds me out a little bit. Because I'm a freak and no stranger should be subjected to my rambling thoughts.
I'm sure I'm just being paranoid...
But if I'm right, hello mystery lady! Sorry I gave you that "who the fuck are you??" look.

OK – I still have much more to write about, including my thoughts about buying a condo, that poor barista at the 6th & Broadway Starbucks with the two horrendous black eyes, my Wednesday night at JR's for drag queen B-I-N-G-O (which I won!), how I have SIX different kinds of lip balm in my bag right now (i.e. my lip balm addiction problem), my suspicions and concerns about the possibility of someone jizzing in the hand soap dispenser in the men's room at work, and my new ultra-healthy diet, but I fear I may have pushed your patience too far as it is.
If you made it all the way through this post – congratulations! I owe you a shot!

no title

I've been trying to get up the enthusiasm to write a blog entry for the past couple of weeks. Every time I start one it just sounds lame and unnecessary to me and I end up trashing it.

I think I'm trying to figure out why I'm keeping this blog in the first place. And why in the world people would be entertained by it.

Is it an ego thing, where I can talk up the fun experiences I've had, the hot guys I've felt up, the sweet clothes I've bought?
Or maybe it's a way for my friends to keep up with my day-to-day life? I am, after all, a guy who is loath to pick up a phone on even a semi-regular basis.
A lot of the time I think I simply like having a blog because it gives me the opportunity to do some creative writing, which had come to a screeching halt after the one-two punch of college and grad school.
Or perhaps I just think I'm HILARIOUSLY funny and I owe it to the world to share my precious gift.
Yeah, that's it.

I don't know.
Maybe I'm just not in the mood right now to talk about my crazy Saturday night at Tracks, or how I've developed a rather unfortunate and undeniable crush on one of my best friend's boyfriend, or how pleased I am with The Amazing Race and Survivor this season, or how much I'm digging the new Weezer and LL Cool J videos, or how I'm helplessly addicted to Nip/Tuck season two on DVD and the totally shaggable doctors and the too-pretty-to-exist son Matt, or how excited I am to see the season premiere of The Sopranos tonight.

I don't know.
I'll probably be back to normal by next week.
Probably.

don't sass the money lady

I'm crabby today. I'm not going to lie to you.
I worked out really hard last night and I'm super sore. Then I went out and drank cheap beer and stayed out too late. Then I woke up at 5:00 a.m. and had to pee like a son of a bitch (AND had to deal with the "attempt to piss through a raging hard-on," which is really hard and frustrating in the middle of the night) and didn't really get back to a deep sleep afterward.
Plus it's been a long week and I just don't feel like fucking working today.

So I decided to go get some greasy, fattening bacon/egg/cheese biscuit action for breakfast to make me feel better. And the second I got back to the office my firm's accountant was waiting at my desk and was all, "What did you get there? Why didn't you tell me you were going? Where did you go? Why didn't you get me something? Why? Why?? Why???" and on and on and ON.

So I muttered, "Because I'm not your damn slave" in an extremely unfriendly tone and turned my back on her.
Which was an unfortunate decision because immediately after my rude reply she informed me that on last week's timesheet for President's Day I put eight hours in my paid time off space instead of the holiday space.
And she's the only one who can fix it so I don't lose a full day of paid time off.

I am not in the mood to apologize and kiss ass right now.

the direct correlation between bowling success and cuervo

Last night after work I went to Lucky Strike Lanes at the Pavilions for the Antron/Benjamin Moore charity bowling event.
And I stunk up the joint real good.
My firm had a bowling party a few months back where I hit (what I believe was) an all-time high score for me of 156. So of course last night I walked into that bowling party like the cockiest son-of-a-bitch you've ever seen.
And then proceeded to bowl an 87. In front of a bunch of people to whom I'd been bragging about my previous score.

So, having no other obvious option I started hitting the tequila shots.
And the next thing I knew I got four strikes in a row.
Final score: 134. Not too shabby.

Bowling is fun.
But please don't attempt it without a shot or two of our old friend Jose.

That is all.

Four strikes in a row baby! 

oh those crazy boys!

The past week has been a big huge bust when it comes to men. I've ended up being quite disappointed in almost everyone, although I'm not sure exactly why I even get my hopes up at all anymore.

First I stopped by JR's on Friday night and everyone I knew was TANKED. Actually, they're probably all usually pretty tanked, but I came to the sudden realization that being at JR's isn't nearly as fun when you're sober. And boys drunkenly sticking their tongues in your ear just isn't quite the same either. In fact, it's kind of gross and awkward.
I was supposed to meet this hot Hispanic boy I know at Tracks to do Ecstasy on Saturday night, but the guy who supplies all the tweaky little gay boys with their drugs didn't show up, so hot boy just wanted to stand in the corner and sulk the whole night.
I mean, I like drugs as much as the next addict, but get over it dude!
So then I saw this cutie I've been talking to a bit here and there for the past couple months. We started dancing and in less than 15 seconds I realized two things: he was wasted and he couldn't dance for shit. Seriously – he looked like a kid in junior high dancing. And he could barely focus his eyes on me.
Then my stalker found me. Those who keep up on my blog will remember him from last fall. The guy who wouldn't leave me alone and shaved his head because I had shaved my head. He's about 2-3 inches taller than me so he always looks down on me in this creepy way. And won't leave me the fuck alone. So that was intense and disturbing.
The one thing that made me happy was bumping into the guy I used to date who's now living out in the suburbs all happily coupled up and shit. He was really sweet and fed my ego by telling me how cute I am and how smart I am and how nice I am and so on. I really need to start spending more time with him.

At Monday's staff meeting our Managing Principal asked all the single guys to raise their hands. I immediately thought "Oh shit" and a light sweat broke out on my brow.
Cuz I totally love being singled out as single in a room full of married people.
It turns out that the producers of The Bachelor contacted my firm looking for a hot architect to be their next bachelor.
Three guys raised their hands – me, the new guy who's gay, and another new guy who is somewhere in his 50's and (I can only assume) gay too. Every other guy is married.

**sidenote**
Lame. I really need a new job with single people. Coupled people are starting to freak me out.

Unfortunately, I don't have 1% body fat, I'm not rich, I'm not devastatingly good-looking (although I'm not a disgusting pig man or anything like that – just more boy-next-door cute), I'm not an architect, I don't shave every trace of hair off my body, and I like sexing up men so I suspect I'm not even remotely close to what they're looking for.
But the funny part is that the younger new guy submitted his info this morning. Is he trying to take down The Bachelor from the inside or something?
Wouldn't that be brilliant? You get selected, go through all that bullshit with all those desperate bitches, clean up on lots of free champagne and hot tubs and helicopter rides, then at the final rose ceremony have your boyfriend walk in and go down on him.
Yeah. I'd watch that. That's just good TV.

Monday after happy hour with the ladies (HI G. AND L.!!) at Double Daughters I went to meet a friend at this SHITHOLE on Broadway and Alameda.
Seriously, while I was standing there at the bar a urinal in the men's room overflowed and by the time I noticed I was standing in an inch of toilet water.
B. and I were flirting with this hottie who was there with his ugly girlfriend (who has scarlet fever - really). Apparently he's bi and always drags his poor ugly sick girlfriend to the gay bar so he can flirt with boys. He's all hot and tattooed and muscular and masculine, yet has a sensitive side - yum! He kept staring at us and told me I was hot, but that's just a little too skanky, even for MY taste.
Good times...

Last night I went to JR's to celebrate Fat Tuesday and I found a guy I liked a lot. He was really cute and sweet and it was his birthday (his 23rd – FUCK I'm old). We did some shots and started talking and then after about a half hour I found out he's dating Country Mouse. That's this guy I've known for years who thinks he owns JR's. Total douche bag. He worked at the same company with one of my ex-boyfriends. When we went to one of their company parties back in 2004 he was all pissy that I was there, being more handsome and charming than him – I can only assume. And he wore this lame red and black-checkered flannel shirt.
Stupid Country Mouse. I put my drinks on his tab. Heh heh.

Ooh – and on a completely separate happy note, The Amazing Race is back on.
The good old regular race without crying kids and perfectly happy families being destroyed and all that.
I love how everything is so stereotyped – the hippies, the gays, the glamazons, etc.
And it started in Denver out at Red Rocks! I love seeing my city on TV. I'm really proud of how beautiful it is, especially looking out from downtown towards Red Rocks with the mountains in the background. I had to laugh at how hard everyone was puffing running up the steps at Red Rocks. Denver really can be a bitch when it comes to altitude, but I can't remember how many times I've had to run up and down those stairs for beer at a concert. That's right – they make you walk all the way to the top. Probably to try to sober you up, or at least weed out the really wasted people who will trip and roll drunkenly down the steps.

I'm a little bummed because I went out and bought a new Razr cell phone last weekend in the desperate hope that it would somehow magically make TMobile service work in my apartment. Which it didn't. So I took it back this morning. Now I have to use my lame, shitty free phone again.
And now I have to go find a new service provider. And I'm lazy so that sucks.

Peace out!