Tuesday, May 21, 2013

15 Years: And they said it would not last.


Today is our fifteen years anniversary.  Good Lord, has it really been that long?  It feels like yesterday that I first met my husband.  I still vividly remember that day I sent my friend over to go and tell hubby I thought he was cute.  I also remember the agonizing two months that I had to wait for him to become available.  I also clearly recall that auspicious Sunday evening when we finally officially became a couple, at a Drag Show nonetheless.  For a long time we lied and told people we met at an art exhibition.  You know because that just sounded more sophisticated than telling people we met at a Bar called “Bulls Eye”.  But now fifteen years on, what is the point of lying about where we met and I say fuck sophistication, we met at a Bar and at least it wasn’t a steam room.

For a long time there has been this myth that gay people are incapable of sustaining long term relationships, that we’re drug taking promiscuous misfits who cannot settle down and build a happy life for ourselves; that we are destined to grow old in nightclubs forever chasing after our long lost youth.  But that is just it - it’s a myth.  There are countless couples that I know of out there who have been in relationships for much longer than we have been.  Perhaps they are not active in the gay scene anymore and aren’t as visible, but we are out there.  Look, I won’t lie.  The last fifteen years were not all rainbows and butterflies.  Relationships take work.  But when you find someone who is worth it you won’t mind putting in the effort.  So let me share with you some of our highlights and lowlights of the past fifteen years.

All relationships have ups and downs.  Some couples are strong enough to make it through those down times and others are not.  As for hubby and I the majority of our down times were because of my profession.  Having had a rather interesting career thus far, which for the most part I am legally obligated to keep secret and not talk about or God forbid write about, I will share with you only the things that won’t land my ass in jail.  During my career I have been required to be away from home a lot.  Sometimes not being allowed to tell my husband where I was going or what I was doing.  He accepted this and I admired him for it as it does take courage for a spouse not to ask questions when you in fact have many.

The worst time in our relationship was when I worked undercover.  I was away from home for a long time and I know my husband was sick with worry knowing that what I was doing was dangerous.  I did however, during that time, check in with him once a day with phone calls telling him that I was still alive and finding out how things were going at home.  This I always did to put his mind at ease and for me to hear a familiar voice.  It was a routine we had for every time I went away and I never missed a phone call.  Well, that’s not true, there was that one time.

While working undercover there was a particularly nasty incident where I got hurt and I did not check in with my husband.  He sat at home waiting for my call that never came.  He was wondering if I was still alive and had no means of contacting me.  Out of fear that something might have happened to me he eventually called a colleague of mine.  He told him that he hasn’t heard from me and asked him how long he has to wait before he should start to get worried.  The colleague told him two days and hubby lost his mind.  At around 10pm that evening I finally manage to speak to him much to his relief.  Later, after I returned home and my undercover operation was concluded I found a letter that he wrote on our computer in which he wrote that he didn’t think our marriage is going to work if I continue to do undercover work.  Consequently, I never worked undercover again.

Another lowlight in our relationship was when my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer and her passing away nine months later.  It was a particularly difficult time for me.  I have a tendency to withdraw emotionally and tend to keep people at a distance when going through something serious.  I guess I do this to protect myself but unfortunately I then also push away the people who I care about the most.  Hubby did his best to support me and was patient with me which is a very difficult thing to do when he, at that time, must have felt so alone in our marriage.  After my mother’s passing he also embraced our peculiar family traditions when it comes to mourning.  He did not question why we had to cover all the mirrors in the house and why we had to keep a vigil with incense and a candle for seven days after the funeral, he just did it.  Even though I was emotionally unavailable and grief  stricken he was patient with me and gave me all the love and support that I so desperately needed.

Sure there other low lights that we had in our fifteen years together but seeing as my reader’s attention span only allows for a 1500 words I will skip them this time around.  Before I depress you more than a cold cup of coffee let’s move on and get to the highlights, shall we.  Getting legally married must be one of the highlights of the last fifteen years.  Having our union legally recognized not only legitimized our relationship but also shows the world that we are committed to each other.  Certainly it would still be true even without that piece of paper but it is comforting to know that if something would ever happen to either one of us the other will be legally the beneficiary of the other’s estate.  Also, I’d much rather have my husband make the difficult medical decisions should it ever come down to it as opposed to anyone else.  After all he knows me better than I know myself.

Our honey moon in Egypt and all our international travels have been highlights.  Both of us have a keen sense of adventure when it comes to exploring foreign countries.  Even with my OCD travel is the one thing I will never so no to.  Hubby is the best travel companion being the practical one and the voice of reason.  He is also the one that freaks out travel guides and I remember the one time in Egypt when he told our guide to stop at a market that was not on our itinerary.  The guide reluctantly obliged and hubby did not blink an eye as he started surveying the market for bargains.  We eventually split up going in different directions in the market and almost caused the guide to have a complete nervous breakdown much to my amusement.  This is exactly why I love my husband so much.

The fact that my husband also gets my sense of humor, which is dark and dry most of the time, and that he has accepted that I suffer from a severe case of foot-in-mouth disease is a big advantage.  He has many times told me that “I cannot take you anywhere” as I inadvertently always find a way to offend some people.  His journey to accepting this side of who I am is most definitely a highlight for me.  My other idiosyncrasies, of which there are in an abundance, and how they challenge him on a daily basis and his ability to accept them I find more than enduring and makes me love him more every day.

Another major highlight in the last fifteen years is our home.  When we decided to buy a house and move out of our apartment we both knew it would be stressful.  We searched for months to find the perfect home that would meet both our needs.  So when we finally found the perfect house it needed some work to tweak it to what we wanted.  We had to do some breaking down (both the house and our mental states), we had builders and painters in our house and yard and there were a couple of royal fuck ups.  But after a couple of months of renovations, a few meltdowns and me on the bathroom floor crying like an emotionally disturbed child many an evening, most of the renovations are complete and we made it through that time having a stronger marriage, stronger relationship and the almost perfect house.

Fifteen years is a long time to be with the same person.  But when fifteen years feels like five, you know that you have met your soul mate and that you are in this for the long haul.  Sure there will be good times and bad times, rich times and poor times and sickness and health.  But through the highs and the lows if your love is pure you will make it.  Hubby and I almost never fight and I have been asked many times what our secret is and it’s really simple - respect each other.  We have never cursed each other, screamed at each other and even when we are angry as hell and think the other one is being an asshole we still respect each other enough to resolve our differences in a respectful manner.  The myth that gay people cannot have long term relationships is bullshit.  Hubby and I are living proof that gay people can.  So if you are single and reading this, there is hope and you must never give up on love.  Your soul mate is out there.  Here is to another glorious fifteen years of marital bliss.  I love you hubby.

Till next time.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Things I do that annoy my husband


This has been said by me innumerable times but for the sake of making sure nobody ever forgets it, I will say it again – my husband really deserves a medal for putting up with me.  I am no picnic to live with and should I have been accompanied with an instruction manual it would have come in volumes and would have read like an IKEA manual but without the illustration and it would have been printed in Chinese.  There are many ways one could sugarcoat this.  For example I could say that I am complicated, emotionally complex and eccentric bordering on the ridiculous.  But that would just be blowing smoke up your asses.  The truth is I am one difficult bitch to live with and sometimes I do things that annoy the living hell out of my long suffering husband.  To help give you some perspective here are just a couple of my phobias, obsessions and eccentricities that drive him up the wall and why he deserves some well earned recognition.
One of the causes for my husband to be annoyed can be blamed on my OCD.  Not having to switch the lights on and off a 100 times or checking if all the doors are locked for hours at a time kind of OCD.  The type of OCD I suffer from is my germ phobia and the fact that I like routine and for things to be done in a certain way.  In this sense I am not that unlike our bunnies.  They too like routine and for things to be done a certain way and if you deviate from it they throw tantrums and are stubborn just like me.

This has caused me to hate spontaneity, to be weary of surprises and made me allergic to change of any kind.  I like things to be planned and organized or else the world will come crumbling down and we will all die.  Throw in a mild case of agoraphobia and you have the perfect storm that could kill a social life.  All of which drives my husband nuts.

You see for anyone to drag my ass out of the house for any reason other than for work or to buy life sustaining necessities is a daunting task.  I like our home and everything we need is there.  There really is no reason to leave the house other than for a natural disaster or possibly the apocalypse; even then I would be difficult about it because that too would imply impending change.  Besides, we only have one pet carrier and there is no bloody way five cats, two bunnies, a tortoise and a fish would all fit in there.  We would need a fucking Ark.  Also, do you even know how many life threatening germs are out there that could one day turn us all into Zombies?
So for us to go out is a rather big deal, but for some odd reason my husband does succeed in getting me out of the house sometimes.  We do go shopping in actual malls that are not on the internet, go to movies, visit friends, watch shows and also travel.  None of these things have killed me, yet.  But what annoys my husband is the fact that all these adventures are planned, even the “spontaneous” ones.

My OCD is not the only thing that drives hubby nuts, there also is my cooking.  I am a phenomenal cook, if I do say so myself, and I am also very talented at dirtying every single pot, pan and cooking utensil we have while I prepare a meal.  I never use the same tasting spoon twice because that’s just unhygienic.  I am also incapable of only cooking for just two people.  I blame the fact that I possibly lived through the great depression in a previous life and am now overcompensating by always cooking for an army.  So after I cooked a meal and dirtied as much as possible, all our Tupperware is then also filled up with leftovers most of which go to waste anyway. I know there are starving children in Africa, shut up and stop judging me.

As if my OCD and cooking skills are not enough I am also a hypochondriac at the best of times.  I am a relatively healthy person apart from being allergic to the world.  Literally.  I should live in a hypoallergenic bubble.  However, when I do get an ailment I tend to self-diagnose with disastrous consequences and for this I blame WebMD and the internet in general.
I have been convinced that I was dying from exotic diseases more times than I think my husband would care to count.  In contrast there were also times I thought I was fine but was in fact dying. Like a while back when I thought I was suffering from severe constipation on an island holiday and it turned out I had double pneumonia.  There was also that time when I thought I was having a heart attack and it turned out to just be severe heartburn.  I tend to get it wrong most of the time and all the while hubby had to stand by my side through real medical emergencies and the ones that were not so real.  Even that one time I thought I was infected with the Ebola virus and nobody wanted to believe me.  It would frustrate most people.

And then there are the animals, as you all know I love animals and as a result not only does my husband have to share our house with a person with OCD, impeccable cooking skills and a hypochondriac, he also shares it with our ever growing menagerie.  You all should know by now about my obsessive search for a gay donkey and just yesterday I fell in love with another animal called an Alpacas.  They are ridiculous animals with one fabulous set of hair.  I mean really, who could resist an animal with buck teeth and a jerry curl?  The Alpacas could just possibly trump the gay donkey, and I am so getting one, just don’t tell my husband.

Hubby has threatened that if I get one more animal that we need to buy a farm.  So in response to his threat, now every time I go to the pet shop to buy supplies I send him pictures of kittens, bunnies and reptiles.  You know, so that he is never sure what he will be coming home to that afternoon.  I know it’s cruel but I am doing this with a plan in mind:  If I desensitize him enough to the possibility of a new animal joining our zoo then when I do get the Alpacas or gay donkey he will not be that upset, although the neighbors might be.  I am aware that my obsession with our ever expanding zoo is a problem, but animals make me happy and we can’t have children and God knows we try.  If Brad and Angelina can collect children then who are you to judge my animal collection?
As you can see, it is a miracle that I am not single.  Finding a person who would be prepared to put up with all this shit is very difficult and I got lucky.  Very lucky! The only real issue I think my husband has that he really wishes I would part with is my obsession with horror movies.  I scare the living shit out of him by means of the horror genre at least once a week.  I do this probably in an attempt to convince him that living with me is not as bad as being possessed by Lucifer, being tormented by entities, kept chained in a basement by a serial killer or being kidnapped by aliens.  I mean compared to that sharing your house with a zoo and a somewhat eccentric blogger who believes that the Zombie Apocalypse will happen isn’t so bad, now is it?

Till next time.


(PS:  The Zombie Apocalypse is real people.  It will happen.
PPS: And when the Zombie Apocalypse does happen, stay the fuck away from my house!  I will cut a zombie bitch.  I really will.)

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

I Have Fallen and I Can’t Get Up


I am not sure what the planets are doing but Uranus must be in retrograde and Saturn is probably on her period.  The last two weeks I have been plagued with bad luck and like they say - bad things always happen in threes.  Well, if that is indeed the case then I should be happy right?  Three bad things have already happened to me, and if that is not enough I possibly will be getting some more bad news in the mail within the next week or so.  It’s always good to have a backup, because that’s how I roll.  So it goes without saying that I am rather depressed at the moment.  You know, in the glass is half empty kind of way.  But before I cause your serotonin and dopamine levels to plummet into the abyss of depression as well, let me tell you what has happened.  After all, if we can’t laugh at the misfortune of others what sort of bitches are we anyway?

It all started two weeks ago in a certain shopping centre’s parking lot which I now call the Parking Lot of Doom.  At the best of times I avoid going there because their parking is a nightmare and their parking spaces are smaller than what they should be. I have measured them! Literally!  I have also scratched my car on their pavement once before and since then I have had a mental block about that place.  So when I decided to stop there after work I was very cautious but when I finally found a parking spot right in front of the shop I wanted to go to, I couldn’t be believe my luck.  I am lazy as shit like that, I hate walking and small things like that makes me happy.  However it wasn’t my lucky day and what was already a bad day was about to get even worse.

As I was turning into the already small parking space which was made even smaller by another asshole with a 4x4 who parked like an idiot I had a boo boo : as I was pulling in trying to squeeze my car into the space I accidentally scratched the car next to me.  The sound of two cars scraping against each other is the most horrible sound one can ever hear.  But seeing as it happened and I was responsible I got out of my car to inspect the damage.

Luckily the damage wasn’t that bad and the other car also just had a few scratches.  As I was waiting for the other car’s driver to return so that we can exchange insurance details my little accident started drawing a swarm of people.  One would have sworn I drove over someone’s puppy as the people came to inspect the damage, whisper among themselves and judge my parking skills.  When the lady eventually returned we had a cordial exchange and told each other how we wished we could have met under better circumstance and went our separate ways.

I have not been back to that shopping centre and their parking lot of doom since.  My car will go in to have the scratches fixed next week and in the mean time I am pretending that it never happened.  Bad luck number two is Facebook related.  I think social media sometimes brings out the worst in people.  I have seen firsthand how people will do and say things on social media that they would never dare do or say in real life.  Since I have been on Facebook I have made some enemies, from homophobic freaks, religious assholes to even some gay people.  Normally it doesn’t really bother me much and I mostly ignore them.  Mostly.  But every so often one of these idiots will do something that annoys the shit out of me and exactly this happened last week.

My Facebook Fan page for my blog has grown steadily and presently it has just over 10 000 likes.  But like I mentioned there are quite a few people who hates me and hates my blog.  Seeing as they cannot destroy my blog and/or kill me they go for option number two – maliciously reporting me to Facebook.  Last week some asshole reported a photo I posted on my Fan Page of a naked man which you could only see from the waist up as offensive.  Then some pimpled face Facebook employee who probably is a Mormon then also felt deeply offended by the fine specimen of the male species and then imposed a 30 day block on my profile.

So for the next 30 days I can only access Facebook but I am not allowed to post.   My Facebook Pages are still being updated, albeit not by me.  I was once also confused by Facebook for being a pornographer because I posted I picture of nuns painting a naked man of which you could only see his ass.  But for that I only received a warning.  This time I am in Facebook jail for a month.  Which led me to ask, is my Facebook Page making you horny?  You don't have to answer me right now, but I invite you to think about.

The third stroke of bad luck happened to me on Monday.  I was sitting in front of my computer working and then decided to get up.  It felt like my foot was asleep, as it often happens because I sit with my legs crossed most of the time.  As I got up I had the strangest sensation in my left leg.  It felt like it wasn’t there and it wasn’t just my foot that was sleeping it was my whole fucking leg.

Being up and desperately trying to steady myself it felt like I was going to bend my leg the wrong way.  You know so that it looks like a dinosaur's hind legs.  Not only would it be painful if I did do that it would have looked creepy as fuck as well. I had no control over my leg and after struggling to stay upright I then fell to the ground like a chopped down tree twisting my ankle and my foot into a very unnatural position.  As I was going down it felt like everything was happening in slow motion and as the ground came closer and closer I was waiting for the sound of something snapping, tearing or popping.

Lying on the ground and not being able to get up our maid came storming towards me.  She had a horrified look on her face and without saying a word she stated pulling on my toes.  Confused, embarrased and in pain I remember wondering what sort of fucked up first aid was she taught.  I mean honestly I possibly broke my ankle and/or foot and she is pulling on my toes.  What. The. Fuck.

After several minutes on the floor I finally regained sensation in my leg and was able to get up.  But as the sensation came back to my leg so did the pain.  The pain level went from a 4 out of 10 to about a 9! That evening my foot and ankle were throbbing and we had no real pain medication in the house.  So I suffered through the night and I hardly slept a wink.  At one point at around 2:30am I wondered how much worse this would have turned out if I had been 70 and fell down the way I did.  I probably would have broken my hip and the thought of this made me really scared of growing old.  For the first time I knew how it felt to have fallen and not being able to get up.  Old people, I respect you so much more now, I really do.

The next day I got some medication from the pharmacy and an ankle guard and I am walking with a limp.  If my ankle and foot do not get significantly better in next couple of days then I will have to go for x-rays at the hospital.  And you all know how a love hospitals.  Three bad things have happened and let’s hope my bad luck is now over.  I am still expecting a speeding fine in the mail but hopefully it never arrives.  In the mean time I am keeping a super low profile, hiding under my blanket of self-pity and resisting overdosing on chocolate.  I am also making sure that my Feng Shui is all balanced.  I mean 3000 years of Chinese art and science should prevent me from experiencing any further bad luck, wouldn’t it?

Till next time.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Screw this, I’m Moving to Mars


All of us sometimes reach the point where we are so tired of all the bullshit that we want to pack up our lives and run away.  You know, those times when work gets to be too much or those times when some idiot pisses you off causing you to have serious doubts about the future of humanity.  Well now there is an opportunity for you to do just that.  Now you can literally leave this planet of assholes behind.  You see a Dutch company has launched Mars One which is a private spaceflight project led by Dutch entrepreneur Bas Landsdorp and they aim at establishing the first permanent human colony on Mars.  AND they want volunteers!  So you, yes you, could be one of two men and two women who will touch down on Mars in ten years time ensuring your place in the history books.  But before you get all excited, there is a catch.  There always fucking are.

Since this project was launched in June of 2012 thousands of people have applied to be the first humans to live on Mars.  Watching some of their videos I do suspect that not all of them truly comprehend the enormity of their decisions.  The catch is that if you are selected, and you do go to Mars, it will be a one way trip.  You will not be coming back.  You will die there, we are just not sure what the timeline will be on  that.  The reason you will not be coming back to earth are twofold:  One, the technology to bring you back does not exist at this time and two, after spending two years on Mars at 38% of earth’s gravity your body would have adjusted to Mars’ gravity and if you were to come back to earth you will instantly die because your body would not be able to tolerate earth’s gravity.  So, if you leave earth you will do so permanently.  

Don’t get me wrong, Mars One does seem like a unique opportunity.  After all on earth there are so much drama and so many fools you have to suffer.  Who wouldn’t want to get away from all of this and emigrate to another planet?  There have been days when I watched the news and secretly thought that the world was going to shit.  It has also crossed my mind that just maybe our galaxy is some science project an alien kid got a D for and now sits on a shelve in his room gathering dust.  All the while we are blissfully unaware of this and we mindlessly continue blowing each other up and destroying our environment.  Just look at North Korea, I swear that one day their Supreme Leader Kim Jong Un will nuke us all!  And if he doesn’t get us some terrorist group will.  In which case if you were on Mars you would be safe.

To be honest I don’t think I would want to leave earth just yet.  There are too many things holding me back.  I mean really, I only recently got hooked on televisions shows like The Walking Dead, True Blood and I really want to see how Revenge will end.  Also, The New Normal and Modern Family are doing groundbreaking work and I feel obliged to watch and support these shows, it’s my duty as a gay man!  Also being a horror movie fanatic I would hate missing all the new movies that are released as I don’t believe there will be much entertainment on Mars.  I also cannot see how I could leave my Zoo behind and I am sure they will not allow hubby and I to take our 5 cats, two bunnies, a tortoise and a fish with us to Mars.  And you know there will be no gay donkeys on Mars either.  So what will be the point of going?  The view?  The bragging rights? I think not.

Mars One states that with this project over a course of a few years, starting in 2023, forty humans will be sent to Mars.  That’s a lot of people.  Say you are one of them and after a couple of months you have a falling out with a few of your fellow Martians, what will you do?  You are stuck there with them, you cannot come home and you definitely can’t go outside without a spacesuit.  You are stuck with those assholes in a confined space for the rest of your life.  Will you be able to handle it?  I wouldn’t.  The other major problem I have is the food issue.  Everyone that will be living on Mars will be vegans.  They won’t have a choice.  I would die if I had to be a vegan.  I love my meat and cheese and I am in love with bacon!  Never being able to eat it again will be like a virtual death sentence or the diet from hell.  This in itself is the one major reason I have not volunteered.  Bacon is preventing me.

Mars is also not the most hospitable planet.  Any number of things can kill you on that planet.  One little mistake and the entire group of people can be wiped out in seconds.  It is also not like if something goes wrong you will be evacuated.  One way or another you are going to die there (I cannot emphasize this enough).  In the event that one of the Martians falls pregnant do we even know if that pregnancy will be successfully carried to full term?  Do we have any idea what that baby will look like?  The one thing we do know for certain is that if this does happen that baby will never be able to come to earth and the child will be well and truly an “alien”.  But let’s not be negative.  With all the uncertainty and enormous risk this project poses it does, in my eyes, show the essence of humanity which is our innate urge to explore and to reach out into the unknown for the advancement of our own species.  This is something to be admired.

Do I think the people who are volunteering to go to Mars are crazy?  Maybe a little but I also admire their courage.  I think this will be one hell of a great experiment for humanity and we will definitely learn a great deal about prolonged space travel and the effect it and low gravity has on the human body.  The only concern I do have is how we as a world family will react if this whole project goes to shit and everyone involves die a slow and agonizing death while we sit here on earth and helplessly watch as it happens.  Will we be able to move forward from such a tragedy?  If this project does succeed how will this change us as human beings having the knowledge that we have conquered space and successfully colonized another planet?  What will we do and where will we go next?  I am left with so many questions…

If you feel like you will make an excellent Martian and want to apply for Mars One, CLICK HERE to apply.  Or you can just go and check out the application videos and judge those people in secret like I do.

Till next time.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Killer Pussy: A Memoir of a Semi Deranged House Cat.


Admittedly I have a sense of humor which is an acquired taste.  I have found that some folks can only take me in tinny doses because I lack tact, curse like a sailor and many times I am as surprised by the things that comes out of my mouth as the rest of you.  Some people may view this as being eccentric; I view this as being normal.  Honestly, how many people do you know who run a semi entertaining and successful fan page for their cat on Facebook?  Well you know at least one because I do and it is awesome!  However, last week something happened which may just take Killer Pussy’s fame and fortune to a whole new level, something that might make me seem even more eccentric than usual.  I was asked to write a book about Killer Pussy (not to be confused by the porn film with the same title).

Those of you who read my blog regularly know that I am well on my way to having a small petting zoo.  Our house is filled with fury critters and it is totally normal to have five cats, two bunnies, fish and a tortoise.  For heaven sakes we are gay and can’t have children so we have pets.  Lots of pets and they are all treated like royalty.  Hubby have warned me on more than one occasion that if I bring home one more animal then I either need to buy a farm or else.  And it is that “or else” that has prevented me from buying a gay donkey and calling him our make believe unicorn.  However, this blog post is not about a gay donkey but if you have one you should totally email me and not tell my husband.

Getting back to my cat’s page.  Running a fan page for your cat can be fucking exhausting.  Especially seeing as the two cats Killer Pussy is based on are witty, sarcastic, intelligent, mischievous, facetious, complicated and to top it all off they are also prolific killers.  Also taking into account that Killer Pussy’s page needs to be updated several times a day and the fact that it does sometimes involves a complicated thought process; I would not say it is something that just anybody would want to do or would stick to doing.  I am aware that people know it is me writing it, I am not that delusional!  But regardless of this all the feedback I have received from Killer Pussy’s fan page have been overwhelmingly positive.  Perhaps these people are as “eccentric” as I am.  They are cat people after all!  But if it entertains people and give them a humorous break from an otherwise dull day, I would say I have achieved my goal and unbeknownst to be somebody noticed.

So there I was last week minding my own business when I received an email with the subject line reading “Killer Pussy, a fan”.  My first thought was “What. The. Fuck.  My email address is nowhere on Killer Pussy’s fan page.  Could Killer Pussy have a stalker?”  Then I read the email.  It was from a South African based publishing company.  The guy said that he is a huge fan of my cat’s Facebook Fan Page and wanted to know if I would be interested in writing a book from her perspective.  My first reaction was to say no.  I mean really, like I have the time to write a book for my cat.  I always imagined that I would one day publish a novel but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine my first novel would be written as my cat.  I thought it was bizarre and that this guy was trying to take the piss out of me.  So I ignored the email.

A couple of days passed before I mentioned it to my husband, and then to a couple of friends and colleagues who were also fans of Killer Pussy’s Page.  They all agreed that maybe it was not such a bad idea after all.  None of them have ever heard about a book that was written from a house cat’s perspective.  So I chewed on the idea and then decided to start writing it to test the water and to find out how it would feel to take this on as a project.  I wrote one paragraph.  The first paragraph which is the most important paragraph of any book as it sets the tone for the rest of the book.  It took me five minutes to write and I sent it to my husband.  I anxiously waited for a response from him and when I finally got it I was taken aback.  He said that it was crewed bordering on vulgar.  He then immediately tried to minimize his reaction by saying “But I’m not your target audience.  You and Killer Pussy have many people who follow you and I am sure they would love it.”  That left me somewhat conflicted.

I know my sense of humor can sometimes be dark, even offensive to some.  My world perspective is also not always all sunshine and rainbows but I know funny shit when I see or read it.  After all, Killer Pussy did not end up at our doorstep dropped off by a stork; the bitch has a back story.  So what if her mother was a whore who only allowed her litter to suck on her teats in order to stay alive.  So what if having her asshole licked by her uncaring mother was a rare privilege while she was a kitten.  So what if she was conceived during a cat orgy.  Killer Pussy is a multi dimensional character and I was taking this shit seriously.  So I did what I normally do, I sent the first paragraph to my trusted critics who call a spade a spade and who would call my shit out if they had to.  If I were heading down the wrong track they would be honest enough to tell me so.

They all loved it.  Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of now having to seriously start writing this book, having to rekindle my relationship with my book agent in the United States who in return would have to whore my book around to publishers, I decided to take my first weekend off.  I was freaking out slightly and instead of finishing the first two chapters of my book I spent the weekend watching Season 1 & 2 of The Walking Dead.  It’s a perfectly normal thing for me to do when I am panicking: surrounding myself with Zombies (or like they call them “Walkers”) and a lot of blood and gore while eating junk food and staying in my PJ’s for 48 hours straight makes me feel safe and secure.  Don't judge me! I am starting with the book this weekend.  If all goes well you will have a borderline vulgar yet humorous novel written by Killer Pussy to read by the end of this year.  So watch this space bitches.

Till next time.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

The Best of FCKH8

Through the years the FCKH8 campaign has made several videos dropping the F-bomb on homophobia.  Here are  my favorite 5 videos.  Enjoy...

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Hormone Therapy: Not For The Faint Hearted

So I started with hormone therapy last week.  For those of you who are reading my blog for the first time, NO I am NOT in the process of getting a sex change!  I am menopausal and it fucking sucks!  It has been a week since I got the hormone injection.  As for those of you who are still naturally producing enough testosterone and don’t need to get it through a hellishly long needle every three months - I kind of hate you right now!  But that’s probably just the hormones talking.  Undergoing hormone therapy has its upside and yes you guessed it, also its downside.  So please allow me to explain it to you in unadulterated graphic detail.
So after my little blood test result clusterfuck that determined that you can suffer from early onset male menopause at the tender age of 35, I reached a cross road in my life.  It was not like I did not produce any testosterone but the levels in my system were much lower than what it should be (I always knew I wasn’t normal).  I had a choice: undergo hormone therapy or just leave it and enjoy the plethora of symptoms associated with low testosterone levels.  Seeing as I was not much in favor of the continued little tropical holidays I was suffering, anxiety attacks, living in a virtual freezer and having a libido as unpredictable as a schizophrenic beggar, I chose the hormones.  So last week Monday I made an appointed with my doctor to start the hormone therapy.

In my naivety I thought my doctor would keep hormone injections in stock at his practice.  I was wrong.  I was unceremoniously told that he would have to order it.  Also, seeing as my health care plan does not consider hormone deficiency as a “life threatening condition”, I had to pay for the therapy out of my own pocket.  Clearly the bastards at my health care did not consider that my condition could be lethal to other people if left untreated, but then again if I did kill someone I would have gotten free health care in prison, so in the end it did kind of make sense.  But I digress…
Seeing as hormone injections are not cheap my doctor wanted to make sure what the price was.  So as I was standing at his reception with a room full of people in his waiting area he shouted to the receptionist “Please phone our supplier and find out how much Nebido costs for Pierre!”.  I should add that if you say Nebido really quickly, as he did, it sounds a lot like Libido.  At that moment I could see the faces of everyone in the waiting room go all sympathetic as if they were thinking “Shame, he is so young and he has no sex drive.  Poor thing, I hope that helps him get laid again.”  I blushed and looked at the floor.  I did want to shout that it was for my hot flashes and anxiety but I did not see the point in being embarrassed any further than what I already was.  So I let the assholes go home to tell their families about the gay guy at the doctor's office who had to get a Libido injection instead.

At the end of the day the pharmacy at the same shopping center had the Nebido in stock at a reasonable price so I handed in my script, got the injection, paid and went to the nurse.  Luckily the nurse was very sympathetic, didn’t ask any questions nor say anything apart from asking me if I was afraid of needles.  Apparently she would have to inject the substance slowly as it was suspended in thick oil.  It was the longest 90 seconds of my life and also ranked in my top 2 most agonizing injections I ever had.  The fact that she had to rub my ass to make sure it gets absorbed was both painful and I felt slightly molested in a non sexual way.  If it was sexual it would have been gross as she was almost 60.  After she was done she asked me if I wanted the insert of the Nebido and I said yes.  Big mistake!
You see, the hypochondriac in me knows never to read the inserts of any medication that I am prescribed.  The OCD in me always insists on knowing exactly what I put into my body and what the side effects are.  The OCD in me usually wins to the great annoyance of my husband as I always believe that I am about to die.  After reading through the insert and hyperventilating because there was no way of undoing the injection, I accepted the fact that I could suffer a few unpleasant symptoms and that I just had to man up and deal with that shit if and when they occur.  The effect of the hormones was slow but there were a couple of immediate effects.

After the injection I did feel slightly light headed but that soon disappeared.  I then started to feel as if my body was waking up and there was a mild rush that pulsated through my body.  I started to feel better, more alive and as if I had more energy.  But with all things in my life I also experience a bit of waxing and waning as the testosterone was being absorbed into my system.  I would have moments of feeling euphoric, horny and like I could conquer the world then followed by being moody, generally pissed off, annoyed and antisocial.  All of which the doctor said was perfectly normal.  He explained that as my body was adjusting to the testosterone that was now introduced into my system and as the deficiency was being corrected there would be some ups and downs.  It was nothing to worry about and he assured me that if I did not believe him that Google would substantiate what he was saying.  My doctor knows me too well.  Before getting the hormones many people warned me on various social media platforms about getting the treatment.  Some of their warnings were quite frightening.
Some warned that I would go bold which is a truly terrifying prospect as I look like a drug addict and a convict without hair.  Others warned that I would be growing more hair which was disturbing as I cannot see myself joining the gay bear biker club and I do not feel comfortable in the bear leather gear getup.  I mean honestly, can you imagine me in a leather bar?  Then there were those who warned me that the hormones would make me a sex crazed maniac and that hubby would have to lock me in a room with lube and tissues.  Possibly even restrain me as I would become a complete and uncontrollable nymphomaniac.  Well, sorry to disappoint you but none of these things have happened.  Yet.

It has only been a week since I've been on the hormone therapy and I can definitely affirm that I do feel slightly different and that the hormones are affecting me both physically and mentally, mostly for the better.  I guess it is still early days and a lot more will change and happen in the days to come.  For the most part I am pleased that I decided to undergo hormone therapy as menopause is a motherfucker to deal with.  So what if I grow a thicker beard, some more chest hair and when my libido sky rockets like that of a teenage boy I am sure hubby will be the last one to complain.  The only real downside of this whole process is that I now also have to get my prostate examined yearly.  Having my doctor shove his finger up my asshole twice a year without being first bought dinner or drinks is the only thing I am not looking forward to.  My doctor isn’t even hot.  Fuck.  Do you think I should bring my own KY?  Will I want a cigarette after?  Guess you and I will have to wait and see.

Till next time.

Friday, April 12, 2013

100 Years of Lesbian Couples

20 Pictures of lesbian couples covering 100 years.  Yes, we have been around forever.


Thursday, April 11, 2013

Pride or Prejudice?


Miss Jones from the website The Modern Lesbian airs her concerns over the Joburg Pride debacle.  I happen to agree with many of the points she makes here. 
Earlier this month, the organisers of the Joburg Pride parade released a statement that sent shockwaves throughout the LGBTI community. They announced that they would no longer be hosting the event and this information spread like wildfire throughout the gay community, leaving many in disbelief. While most people started freaking out, I had a ton of questions rushing through my brain.

It’s no secret that I wasn’t exactly a fan of the previous committee (I’m sure my previous article, Profits vs People, is proof enough of that), but what made me angry, and I’m sure many others, is the fact that they left it this late. Pride usually takes place during the first week of October and we’re already heading towards the end of April. Hardly enough time for new roleplayers to take over and plan a massive event such as this one.

It didn’t take long for people to respond to this, by creating new groups and Facebook pages aimed at setting up a new committee and calling a meeting, inviting organisations and members of the public to attend and voice their concerns. We were very excited about this meeting because we thought the winds of change had finally come and the voices of an all inclusive LGBTI community would finally be heard. So we sent deputy editor of The Modern Lesbian, armed with our list of concerns, our eagerness to assist and the interests of the lesbian community at large into the meeting. However, what happened next, took us totally by surprise and left us disgusted for actually attending this meeting. Here’s a few highlights:
·       
        Very few people actually attended this event. It was mainly the people that organised the meeting, a former board member, hardly anyone from the press, hardly any representation from organisations and a few individuals with their own concerns.

·        The people who called the meeting were very adamant that a company be set up and that it remains a COMMERCIAL entity, and not an N.G.O, which upset a lot of attendees, as the basis of any business, unlike an N.G.O, is to make a profit.

·         While the whole commercial angle was spun, the question was asked why the previous board had collapsed and what the real reasons behind dissolving the previous entity was. This was dismissed. One attendee challenged the host by saying: “We want politicisation of Pride, not commercializing our rights!” A verbal attack from both parties followed. Many people got up and left the venue out of sheer frustration  According to the organisers of the meeting, the biggest issue surrounding Pride is BRANDING. (WTF? Really?)

·     What added fuel to an already out of control fire, was when organisers suggested that Pride 2013 be cancelled altogether, and that Pride 2014 should be focussed on instead.
·         
      Many attendees raised the concern that a lot of people could not attend due to the day and venue chosen, as transport and time was an issue. This was met with further animosity from the chairpersons as, in their opinion, everyone was invited.

·       Another gentleman, claiming to be the co-founder of Pride (unverified), then had a go at the attendees, creating the impression that he is more important than others there, and having more rights, as he’s the only one that understands what it takes to make a success of this event.

·       He also dropped a bomb of his own, that the previous committee had received a grant of R3.5 Million (his words, not ours!), to organise the event, but refused to comment or answer any questions regarding any spending by the previous board.
·         
     Attendees suggested that, seeing as not all parties could attend, a new committee should not be elected as yet. This was met with fierce opposition by the chairpersons and tempers flare once again.

·      At this stage a screaming match between the chairpersons and the attendees erupt, with statements such as “Pride is dead”, “Who elected you to call the shots” etc are bellowed and at this point, it seems more of an ego thing than an actual exchange of useful ideas. A parting shot is thrown at one chairperson: “You just want to be Pride Queen” because of frustration felt by attendees for not once having an opportunity to voice their concerns or raise their ideas!

The points raised above are not simply the views of our own attending correspondent, we also received a few statements from other attendees, which will be published in full on our website at a later stage. Among the statements made, Angela had the following to say: “My first thought about the meeting when I am reflecting back on it, was, that it was not what a lot of people expected. The chair person did not keep to the agenda and I think that this triggered the discussion that was at hand in the end. The idea of putting a board together out of one meeting with no background information, legal clarification or information on internal issues, and then asking people to step forward into director positions without looking if they have the expertise to assist in those roles, seems a bit naive.”

What an embarrassment to the local LGBTI community. Which brings me to my next, rather pressing question...what is Pride really about? Is it about the over inflated egos of those calling the shots? Is it about eager opportunists that can’t wait to line their own pockets? Is it about people or profits? Can a party not be accompanied by principles? If Pride started with a political agenda, why is any possibility of adding politics to Pride so quickly dismissed?

In South Africa we as LGBTI people enjoy a lot of freedoms that our cousins from abroad are still fighting for. We are quick to forget the fight for marriage and other equalities in the eyes of the law, causes that would never have gained any momentum had it not been for mass rallies such as Pride. We also seem to forget that there is a group of serial killers targeting gay men, and that the rape and murder of lesbians is not taken seriously by the powers that be because both of these issues are STILL not being seen as HATE crimes. We are also very quick to forget that our rights were challenged by traditional leaders in parliament last year, and only a few of us were willing to stand up to them. What I find very ironic is that the theme for last year’s Pride was “protect our rights” yet when a women’s rights organisation were trying to do just that, they were violently assaulted by Pride organisers and even blamed for the previous board’s decision to dissolve.

We have always supported, for free, any cause or event that uplifts the LGBTI community, as long as their efforts are not aimed at the pockets of the people they wish to attract. This is something we feel very strongly about. So again, I have to ask, why do we have to PAY to be GAY in SA? As previously mentioned, according to the gentleman attending the meeting, the Pride board was given THREE AND A HALF MILLION RAND in GRANT money. I’m assuming that doesn’t include corporate sponsorship, corporate partnership, the infamous pink money scandal, stalls and float applications. I’m sorry, but am I the only one thinking, where the fuck did all the money go? Did the previous organisers just cash in their chips and will the new board carry the interests of the LGBTI community as a whole, or are they just as keen to dive into our wallets? By the tone of the last meeting, this is definitely the tune that plays the loudest.

Let’s look at this another way, by comparing Pride to a similar event...

An international cricket match is attended by roughly 20000 spectators. There are food and snack vendors, beer tents and kiosks that supply refreshments. There are international VIP’s as well as entertainment. There is extensive media coverage. Security is world class and second to none. Cost to attend the event, roughly R100 a head. Right, so let’s take Pride’s R3.5 million grant and divide that by 20000. That’s R175 per head. Now, people will criticise this analogy by saying it’s not the same, but I beg to differ. Stadiums get sponsors and advertisers, so does Pride. Roads around the stadiums are closed off, so is the pride route. A lot of time, effort and money go into organising both events, the only difference is, with the exception of glass and alcohol, you can take your own food and drinks into a cricket stadium, you can use currency issued by the reserve bank and the experience also costs you a lot less!

By the look of things, the people that organised the meeting this past Sunday, is also organising the very first Pride parade in Pretoria on the 7th of September this year. Will it be about profits or people? Only time will tell. In the meantime, we’ve joined hands with a few of the organisations that had representation at the last meeting, and we will most definitely be at the next one to see if the new broom does in fact, sweep clean or sweep even more dirt under the carpet. 

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Wednesday, April 10, 2013

100 Years of Gay Couples

20 Pictures of gay couples covering 100 years.  Yes, we have been around forever.

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