Fuck you Uganda!

As a professional practicing homosexual who is most certainly guilty of aggravated homosexuality, naturally I want to give you my two cents worth on the Anti-Gay-Bill that the President of Uganda signed yesterday.  I do not want to mention him by name because I fear that God will send lightning bolts down from the heavens to strike me as I am such a worm infected abomination according to the Ugandan Government.

According to the Ugandan President I am also a prostitute by default or like he prefers to say “all gays are mercenaries”.  It seems as if Africa is having one hell of a homophobic revival which seems to be fueled by religious fanatics, Christian and Muslim alike.  Since when did homosexuals become such a threat to African Governments that they now need laws and the encouragement of public violence against our people?  Are we really that dangerous?

Well I guess the simple answer to this question would be yes.  Why else would certain African countries go out of their way the imprison us.  Not so long ago the same thing happened to the Jews, Gypsies and Homosexuals in Europe.  It was called the Holocaust and it now seems like history is about to repeat itself in Africa.

We as the LGBT people have worked very hard and fought tirelessly for the rights we have today:  The right to get married; the right to adopt children; the right to be equal under the law and the right to be who we are.  Yet, in certain parts of the world draconian laws are being revived that threatens our very existence.  You may say I am being overdramatic but just read what bizarre things the President of Uganda believe about homosexuals and then tell me again that I am being overdramatic.

For one, he believes that we give each other worms during sex.  I have been gay for over thirty years and I never got worms from anyone.  I mean for god sake, how would that even work?  Is it a new STD that I have never heard of?  Is it something that only happens in Uganda?

He further claims that all homosexuals are actually heterosexuals who just have sex with the same sex for money.  Also, I have been gay for over three decades and I have never been paid for sex.  I cannot believe that I have screwed myself like this.  I could have made a shit load of money by now.  But then again how would that work.  Who would pay who?  If both guys pay each other for sex wouldn’t that financial exchange just cancel each other out?  And if you don’t get paid for sex, are you still really gay?

The Ugandan president also claims that none of us were born gay.  Apparently this was proven by scientist which seriously makes me question the Ugandan education system.  Does he not know that homosexuality is also found in nature across many different species?  Are these animals prostitutes as well?

He also said that oral sex is a culture and that the mouth was engineered for kissing and not for oral sex.  Guess whose wife refuses to give him blow jobs because she does not “condone that kind of culture”.  Well Mr President, if you want to get all scientific and technical and shit, the mouth was actually engineered for eating and the act of kissing is also an “unnatural” act.  Maybe you should criminalize kissing as well while you are at it.

The intellectual giant also explained that the “address for sex” is the vagina, not the mouth or your rectum.  If you use your ass and mouth for sex you will get worms and contract Hepatitis B.  We all know the worm part is ludicrous because you will most likely only get worms by fucking a corpse and I strongly condemn necrophilia.  As for Hepatitis B, you can also contract that from toilet seats.  Does this now mean that all Ugandans must avoid toilet seats as well?  Why not just declare toilets homosexual tools and ban them!  With your logic it makes sense, don’t you agree Mr President?

The West has also been blamed for homosexuality in Uganda.  According to the Ugandan President, Westerners come to Uganda to recruit “normal” people into homosexuality, effectively making these poor defenseless people gay whores.  Having traveled in Africa and being a professional practicing homosexual I can declare that I not even once recruited any person to become gay.

Also, being an African I can confirm that nobody recruited me to be who and what I am.  The Ugandan President also stated that he has a huge problem with gay people “exhibiting themselves”.  In other words showing that they are gay.  Well, unfortunately for most of us we cannot help it because that is just the way we are.  Some guys are femme and some girls are butch and there is nothing we can do about it.

I am still not allowed to enter the boarders of Uganda as the travel ban the Ugandan Government imposed on me in 2010 is still valid.  Apparently they view me as a gay terrorist and a threat to their national security.  It’s actually ridiculous because all of this is due to the fact that we tried to facilitate the escape of a lesbian couple out of Uganda.  We did this in order for them to tell their story of abuse, discrimination, corrective rape and the constant fear of death they face every day in Uganda.  We never managed to get them out of Uganda and I have not have contact with them since.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about them.  If they are still alive the recent turn of events in Uganda does not bode well for them or any of our other LGBT brothers and sisters over there.  Our people are being brutally oppressed in Africa and we cannot just sit around and allow this to happen.  We must stand up and fight.  Edmund Burke once said “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing”.

Till next time.

Why I hate my Smartphone

Those of you who know me well would know that my smartphone and I are inseparable.  We have a completely unhealthy and symbiotic relationship.  Like most people I also spend more quality time with my phone than I do with my loved ones.  Sometimes this quality time is spent in the most cumbersome of places.  When I am bored my phone is always there.  When I am in an awkward social situation that I want to dissociate from I have my phone to use as a social barrier or to utilize as a form of escape.  When I am waiting for a meeting or standing in a queue I have my phone to occupy me.  But lately I have come to realize that I have started to resent my smartphone.  Actually, I have come to realize that I maybe not only resent my phone but that I possibly also hate it and this is why…

Siri is a bitch.  She seriously is.  Whenever I ask her to call my husband she wants to phone some guy on my contact list that I don’t even know.  She clearly is either confused or homophobic.  You see, a couple of months back I tried to “come out” to her.  You know, because she lives in my phone and my phone and I are always together and I thought she needed to know.  Let’s just say it did not go well.  She refused to acknowledge that I was gay and towards the end of our very unproductive conversation she hinted that I was being vulgar.  Ok, so I did call her some nasty names but she provoked me.

Siri also sometimes pretends not to understand what I am saying even when I speak American to her.  Other times she is vague with her answers and answers questions with questions which I hate.  She also refuses to tell me what she is wearing or what she was doing before I spoke to her.  In short, Siri is super judgmental and not helpful at all.  But if Siri doesn’t frustrate me enough then there is also the addiction side of smartphones – the games from hell!

My phone made me a Flappy Bird addict.  Now this is not something that I am proud of and all you parents out there should really talk to your kids about the dangers of Flappy Bird.  If you have never heard of it, God bless you and the rock you live under.  Flappy Bird is a super frustrating game and it will ruin your life.  I started playing it a few weeks ago and I suspect this is the reason I started biting my nails again.  Currently my fake high score is 99 (long story) but my real high score is actually only 27.  It’s been 27 since last week and I just cannot seem to beat it.

I have also since developed a phobia of green pipes and yellow birds.  I know I should really delete this fucked up game from my phone but I just cannot bring myself to do it.  Flappy Bird has found my weaknesses and is exploiting all of them.  It’s no joke you guys.  I fear this game might be the beginning of the Zombie Apocalypse and y’all should be running for the hills screaming.  You should be running with axes, guns and preferably with Daryl from The Walking Dead and then remember that you were warned.

My phone has also invaded my toilet time.  I know most of you also take your phones to the toilet and it is disgusting and we should all collectively be ashamed of ourselves.  But in my defense, I get bored when taking a dump.  I mean really, am I just supposed to sit there while I squeeze out a chocolate brownie and stare at the floor, tiles and the door.  That is like totally unproductive and I could be doing something far more useful during this time because bodily functions really should not make you lazy.

I could be reading and answering my emails, answering whatsapp or wechat messages, updating my Facebook Fan pages, reading some articles or playing Flappy Bird.  Coincidentally, my Flappy Bird technique is better when I am making a number two.  Also, most of my fan emails I get from my blog are answered while I am on the toilet (I know this is an upsetting image that you now have in your heads and you are welcome).  The only thing I would not do on my phone while in the bathroom is answering or making calls and I definitely will also not do facetime.  That would just be rude.

Lately I also found that sometimes I fight with my phone and most mornings I end up negotiating with it and then end up late for work.  I sleep, like most people do, with my phone next to my side of the bed.  This is the most practical spot for it because this is where my phone’s electrical umbilical cord is.  Also, it is at arm’s length for easy snoozing of its alarm clock.

My phone’s alarm clock is an asshole and hates me.  The asshole sometimes tricks me in switching off my alarm instead of snoozing it.  This has caused me to wake up late, be in full panic mode, ruins my entire morning and my hair.  I then also end up late for work by an hour on average looking all flustered.  I swear the fucker does this on purpose!

I have also learned that screaming at your phone does not help.  If it forgets to remind you about a meeting, make you miss an appointment or if its battery decides to die unexpectedly during an important phone call about Flappy Bird, your phone does not give a shit.  You only end up looking like a crazy person; a crazy person screaming at a phone who requires specialized psychopharmacological help.  But I don’t only hate my own smartphone, I hate my husband’s as well.

Just call me an equal opportunity phone hater.  You see, both my husband and I are avid pinners on Pinterest and we are also active on Instagram.  However, one of us is more obsessed with this than the other.  And no, this time it isn’t me.  Whenever my husband has a chance he is on one of these two apps and it fucking drives me bat shit crazy.  He is on it when we watch television, when we are next to the pool and the only time he isn’t busy with these apps is when we are having sex.  I suspect he knows that would just be awkward and that it will cause World War III in our house.

In recent times this has gotten better, after several altercations, and we have decided to be more present when we are together.  I suspect smartphones may have been the root cause of many a broken marriage and I will not allow that to happen with us.  Because fuck you home wrecking smartphones!

Even though I do resent my smartphone for invading my life and personal space as it has, it is after all a necessary evil.  Without my phone I would be lost.  I mean if I have weird symptoms my phone and Google are always there to tell me that I am dying from some exotic disease.  My phone tells me when to be where and what time I need to do stuff.  Some nights my phone even hushes me to sleep with soothing ocean sounds.  But I do hate the fact that smartphones have become so intertwined in our daily existence and that they are so dreadfully difficult to escape from.

I have now decided that I will spend a couple of ours everyday smartphone free, only using it for what it was originally intended – for phone calls.  But for now I have to try and beat my Flappy Bird high score or else the world will spin off its axes and we will all die.  I am doing the world a favor really.  You should thank me.

Till next time.

Tears & Joy

This weekend was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for us and not in a fun way.  It was an emotional rollercoaster in the sense that it made me feel nauseous, anxious, inconsolable, had me weeping like an emotionally disturb child and also made me feel blissful and optimistic.  And no, I was not on drugs or experiencing some adverse reaction from my prescription medication.  You see this weekend we had our baby shower and on the eve of this very special day our cat died.  The death of our beloved cat was a very traumatic experience and caused both hubby and I to have a serious of emotional clusterfucks, the timing of which could not have been anymore inconvenient.

Our baby shower’s planning started in November last year already.  So as you can imagine a lot of work went into it and there were quite a few helpers.  Hubby’s best friend from work decided to captain this ship and as one can expect from her she did a stellar job.  By Friday afternoon all was organized and all the preparations were completed.  So by Friday evening we were satisfied that the baby shower would go off without a hitch because all the i’s were dotted and all the t’s were crossed.  Unfortunately, as things go in my life, nothing is ever simple.  I have always said optimism has never served me well and this was no different.

On Friday evening hubby went to bed at around 9:30pm to get his beauty sleep for the next day and I stayed up watching television.  I have always been a night owl.  At around 10pm I heard a commotion coming from my study area.  In the study area is a large multi-leveled scratching post where our cats like to sleep.  As I rushed towards where the sounds were coming from I was horrified by what I discovered.  On the floor was our oldest cat surrounded by our other four cats and she was having convulsions.  She was dying.  Instinctively I rushed to our bedroom to wake up hubby and in a very distressed and high pitched voice I screamed “Mizou is dying! YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP!”  This is not the best way to be roused from your slumber.

I woke up my husband because I knew he would want to be there for her during her last moments.  As we got to her I picked her up and placed her on my lap.  She was still having convulsions, sounded like she was chocking and her tongue was turning blue.  She fought off death for what felt like an eternity but was in fact only a few minutes.  At 10:10pm she died.  Her death was sudden and completely unexpected.  As the stroke hit, she fell off the scratching post defecating on her way down.  Both hubby and I cried while her limp body lay on my lap.  She looked at peace but it was very hard to come to terms with what just happened.  Mizou had been with us for sixteen years and it was hard imagining our life without her.

We sat with her crying for a while.  She went blind a couple of months ago and both of us were very impressed with how well she coped with her disability.  At the time the vet did tell me that she was a prime candidate for a stroke as she had suffered from glaucoma, high blood pressure, was old and had weekend veins.  I guess I wanted to believe that she would live forever.  But she died.   At least we were all there comforting her in her final moments.  After a while hubby brought a blanket for us to rap her in.  I gently place her limp body in the middle of the blanket and arranged her to look as if she was only sleeping.

The morning of our baby shower people arrived early to start preparing the house.  I woke up that morning hoping that the tragedy of the night before was just a bad dream.  But it wasn’t.  The baby shower was supposed to be a happy occasion for both hubby and I but we were both heartbroken.  After I got dressed I excused myself and took Mizou’s remains to our vet to be cremated.  It was a very surreal experience standing there holding Mizou’s now stiffened body in a blanket waiting to be helped.  People in the reception area immediately knew, just by looking at me, what I was there for and it made everybody very uncomfortable.  For once I was the white elephant in the room nobody wanted to acknowledge or talk too.  I totally understood why.

After some red tape the vet’s technician came and collected Mizou’s body.  When he brought back the blanket we had raped her in I had to fight very hard to hold back the tears.  I was told that I will get back her ashes on Friday which I know will be a tough day for all of us.  As I returned home I tried to put a smile on my face.  It made me feel fake and disrespectful.  It also made me feel terribly guilty.  I asked myself how can I allow myself to be happy after what had happened.  But there was no way of postponing our baby shower at this very late stage and like Queen said “The show must go on.”

During the baby shower I tried to forget about Mizou’s death and tried terribly hard to just be in the moment.  At times I succeeded but mostly I was constantly on the verge of a panic attack or near tears.  I suspect this may have ruined almost all our baby shower photos.  I just knew that if I didn’t control my emotions I would do the ugly cry with snot and horrible crying noises; not exactly appropriate baby shower behavior.  I am not sure how I made it through the baby shower but I did.  It was only the next day when I fully appreciated the fact that we are going to have a baby and when it finally sank in and brought joy to my broken heart.

My mother-in-law and sister-in-law came by our house to see what we got for our baby shower.  We are having a family only baby shower after we get our child and they wanted to know what we may still need.  As we went through all our gifts I forgot about our loss and got very excited for the new life that we will be welcoming into our lives.  Hopefully it will happen soon.  It was also then when I had an epiphany:  Maybe Mizou passed away to create a space for a new life that is arriving.  We had to say goodbye to a very precious soul who we loved dearly to make room for another.  This filled my heart with peace, joy, love and hope.  This has been a weekend of tears and joy.  Hopefully the next time I cry it will be tears of joy.

Till next time.

Die Vampire Die!

Fuck you Miss Johnson! I can totally relate and maybe you can as well. 

Good news for a change.

So after my rant on Monday I have some good news to share with you.  I managed to rescue the bunny on Monday afternoon and brought him home.  And no!  I did not kidnap him.  It was done all legitimate and shit.  He was severely malnourished and practically just skin and bone.  Someone tried to shave him and did an atrocious job of it.  When he got home he looked and smelled like a bum and that is when the work began.

When he got home I immediately noticed that he wasn’t eating.  At first I attributed this to stress.  But as he became more relaxed I knew there was a bigger problem at play.  On Wednesday I took him to the vet for a full checkup and to be neutered.  That’s when we discovered that the reason he wasn’t eating was because he couldn’t.  It was too painful.  You see due to having been given the wrong food and, from what it looked like, no hay he had developed spurs on his teeth.  It’s rather nasty and looks like little needles that make eating painful:  As a bunny try to eat these needles stick into his gums and as you can imagine it is very unpleasant.  So the vet filed off the spurs and he was good to go.

The first obstacle we faced with this new addition to our family was his name.  I wanted to name him Kazimer which means “The Great Destroyer” in Russian.  Hubby refused that we name him that and as he, in a very annoyed Tim Gunn voice, told me “I don’t want anything in our house that is known as The Great Destroyer.  This is why we can’t have nice things!”  So we decided to name him Dimitri which means “Lover of Earth” in Russian.  Hubby made our bun less of a worrier and more of a hippie because he is kind that way.  A bigger problem though was socializing Dimitri with our other bunnies.

As you may recall we have two other bunnies and they are both neutered boys.  They have bonded and love each other very much.  Apparently it is very strange to have two male bunnies bonded in this way but I guess it is true that the gay do rub off and is indeed contagious.  But before you call Nigerians to stone me – I am being facetious.  Knowing that socializing a new bunny with a bonded pair is notoriously difficult I thought “How bad can it really be?”  Well the answer is really bad.

With the first introduction there was a big ass fight between our youngest and smallest bun and Dimitri.  Fur flew, water bowels where thrown and there were tantrums and lots of screaming.  Ok, so the screaming was done by me but you get the idea.  Consequently to the first introduction and fight there was three more introductions all of which saw me have mini nervous breakdowns and took a couple of years off my life.  I have also, in the mean time, employed several other sneaky tricks to ease them into accepting one another and the experts tell me that socializing them to the point where there are no longer fights could take anything from three weeks to eight months.

Dimitri is a gentle soul and has a very easy going personality.  He is very similar to our only male cat and I foresee that the two of them will become great friends down the line.  It took me two days to potty train Dimitri which also shows that he is super intelligent.  His favorite thing to do in the evenings is to chill with us on the couch and he loves cuddles.  This is a far cry from what he was use to.  He was kept in a chicken wire cage at an Angora breeder in which he could barely turn around.  He was only taken out of that cage to breed and to be shaved.  When he stopped eating the breeder was too stingy to take him to a vet and dumped him at a pet shop where, according to the vet, he would have died in three weeks from starvation if he wasn’t rescued.

It breaks my heart to know that there are people out there who doesn’t give a shit about animals; people who treat animals so badly that death would be preferable.  It makes my blood boil.  What I find appalling is the fact that bunnies are becoming more popular as pets.  People buy these cute little fur balls from a pet shop without knowing anything about them.  The have no clue about their diets, their health, emotional needs and what it takes to raise a happy, healthy and well rounded bunny.  Then at the first sight of problems they dump them.  My plea is that before anyone adopts or buys a pet first do your research.  Find out as much as you can about that animal and then decide if that pet will fit your lifestyle and if you will be capable and willing to care for that animal for the rest of that animal’s life.

Till next time.