gay pride is coming up. And i dont want to go.
Ive been to pride before, and i never feel very prideful. What do i have to be proud of simply for being gay? What have i achieved by being gay other than notches in my belt?
NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!
I have pride in being an american, because i still think as americans we are the last line of freedom in this world. Is that way gay pride is supposed to be about, being proud that you use your freedom? If so, i dont understand how men in drag and a giant penis costume should make me feel proud.
Gay pride is a relic. Much like a corded telephone, its a means to an end of a past era. Its a remnant of the gay solidarity movement of the 70's and 80's. but its been 20-30 years since gay solidarity morphed into the Group-think apparatchik i call the gay party.
What as a gay man do i have to be proud of?
Gays can do hair?
The gay solidarity movement of the 70's and early 80's is a group i can look to with respect. These were gay guys who were willing to walk around with steel poles and fight quite violently for their rights to be who they are, and THAT i can be proud of. But im not of that generation. I can have admiration for them, just like i have admiration for the USMC Generals of the previous wars, but i cannot be proud of accomplishments i have not made.
What as a gay man do i have to be proud of?
What has the gay solidarity movement become? A group of men in leather carying steel pipes to bash in the heads of cops who would arrest them to the GLSEN bitching about using the term gay as stupid? REALLY? This is what the Gay Party is giving me and my generation to be proud of. Whining about slang. In highschool i had the word FAG carved into my locker in the locker room. Did i go bitch and complain to anyone? HELL NO. I broke the motherfuckers rib and got suspended for a week. But no one EVER thought of fucking with me again.
I guess as a gay man i can be proud i stood up for myself. But instead of being proud as a gay man, i choose to be proud as a MAN.
I ask you, people who are tired of being hyphenated americans to stand up and say I AM MAN FIRST, GAY/BISEXUAL/WHITE/BLACK/MEXICAN/QUEER/WHATEVER SECOND. I do not identify with those who claim to fight on my behalf. I dont live in that world. Gay marriage isnt going to help me put food on my table, find a job or do any of that. And quite honestly, im not the type that would ever marry. If i did get that far in a relationship with a dude and decided that him and no others ever then thats between me and him. We can figure out legal ways around the system, and there are many. Power of attorney, making them legal dependents. Whatever we have to do we can figure something out to make it work.
That makes a man, the ability to judge someone based on who they are not what they are. Judge a man by what he does not who he does.
The men and women of the age of stonewall have my upmost respect and deepest gratitude. Unfortunately you left the ship in the hands of morons, hopefully a course correction can be done soon before the ship sinks up its own indignant asshole
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
a sense of perspective
The same people who read my blog also read guys like Mindtrip, breeding jock, hotpigg, and Ibi. I know this because Google Analytics knows this, it tells me where you came from and where you went after leaving my site, it can also tell me how many other tabs you have open and what is on those tabs (yall are some sick fucks).
Based on what i know about the majority of people who come to my site.... NONE OF YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO JUDGE ME. Im going to pick on 2 people, because i know they can take it, im gonna pick on Mindtrip and Mark from IBI.
Mindtrip is a Poz top, who frequently fucks bottoms who may or may not be neg inadverntely sharing HIV among the people he fucks. And im the mean person becuase i like to fuck with people?
Mark is a untested guy who used to destroy condoms to get his seed in other people, and IM THE MEAN PERSON?
I dont pass judgement on these guys becuase 1. they are cool as hell and 2. its not my place to judge them.
I enjoy fucking with people who are nice because they are stupid. They are too stupid to make witty comebacks, to socially inept to understand sarcasm and outside thinking. They are products of our educational system and they fail every time. Thats whats fun. IF im truly an asshole for these things then these other men must go down with me. Agree with me or disgaree with me as you see fit, at least be consistent with your rage.
Based on what i know about the majority of people who come to my site.... NONE OF YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO JUDGE ME. Im going to pick on 2 people, because i know they can take it, im gonna pick on Mindtrip and Mark from IBI.
Mindtrip is a Poz top, who frequently fucks bottoms who may or may not be neg inadverntely sharing HIV among the people he fucks. And im the mean person becuase i like to fuck with people?
Mark is a untested guy who used to destroy condoms to get his seed in other people, and IM THE MEAN PERSON?
I dont pass judgement on these guys becuase 1. they are cool as hell and 2. its not my place to judge them.
I enjoy fucking with people who are nice because they are stupid. They are too stupid to make witty comebacks, to socially inept to understand sarcasm and outside thinking. They are products of our educational system and they fail every time. Thats whats fun. IF im truly an asshole for these things then these other men must go down with me. Agree with me or disgaree with me as you see fit, at least be consistent with your rage.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Why i call nice guys marks (also called why are smart people dicks)
Dictionary.com Definition of Mark:
Slang .a.an object of derision, scorn, manipulation, or the like: He was an easy mark for criticism.
b.the intended victim of a swindler, hustler, or the like: The cardsharps picked their marks from among the tourists on the cruise ship.
There are 22 definitions of the word mark when used as a noun. For our purposes, we will only be using Definition #15 (pasted above).
Why are nice guys marks? Or more importantly, why are nice guys EASY marks.
I know this will get me called an asshole, a jailworthy dick or the like, but i dont care. Why are nice guys easy marks?
I was trolling A4A looking not to fuck, but to fuck with people. And ive just found nice guys are so easy to fuck with. Sarcasm is lost on them. Context is a word they never learned in highschool or in getting their liberal arts degree. they make it so easy to fuck with them, i cant not. Its my civic duty to remind these people they are wastes of flesh and questioning my belief if humanity is truly sentient or not.
This is also true in real life. One of my pastimes is going into the liberal arts building at my college and talking to the philosophy majors (who the fuck majors in philosophy and how do you support yourself in the real world with a degree in philosophy?). Now i am a student of Ayn Rands objectivism which holds:
Why are nice guys marks? Or more importantly, why are nice guys EASY marks.
I know this will get me called an asshole, a jailworthy dick or the like, but i dont care. Why are nice guys easy marks?
I was trolling A4A looking not to fuck, but to fuck with people. And ive just found nice guys are so easy to fuck with. Sarcasm is lost on them. Context is a word they never learned in highschool or in getting their liberal arts degree. they make it so easy to fuck with them, i cant not. Its my civic duty to remind these people they are wastes of flesh and questioning my belief if humanity is truly sentient or not.
This is also true in real life. One of my pastimes is going into the liberal arts building at my college and talking to the philosophy majors (who the fuck majors in philosophy and how do you support yourself in the real world with a degree in philosophy?). Now i am a student of Ayn Rands objectivism which holds:
that reality exists independent of consciousness; that individual persons are in direct contact with reality through sensory perception; that human beings can gain objective knowledge from perception through the process of concept formation and inductive and deductive logic; that the proper moral purpose of one's life is the pursuit of one's own happiness or rational self-interest; that the only social system consistent with this morality is full respect for individual rights, embodied in pure laissez faire capitalism; and that the role of art in human life is to transform man's widest metaphysical ideas, by selective reproduction of reality, into a physical form—a work of art—that he can comprehend and to which he can respond emotionally.In essensce i think man is smart enough to make a rational decision about himself and that you can judge a man by his actions. SO i love fucking with philosophy majors, I throw in some sarte to throw them off on a line of questioning and i always walk away with my faith in the rationality of people shaken yet highly entertained.
I have found though the easist people to fuck with are people who watch Sex and the City. Now we all know about the mental retardation it takes to like twilight, however i have found the nature of SatC is more insidious. Instead of making someone a shriking fangirl or convincing men to wear body glitter (gay boys who wear body glitter are beyond saving, and have been since the era of my birth), it makes everyone think they are smart when they are being shalow. They talk as if sex is some metaphysical connection with people. Its a sharing of body fluids that evolution has made pleasureable through the use of endorphins. Its fun, but its not the root of all life. Its honestly some of the best fun ive had in a long time fucking with people like that.
but now i come full circle, why are nice guys good marks? BECAUSE THEY ARE STUPID. Now this does not apply to all nice guys. Ususally just nice guys around my age. Nice guys who are 5-7 years older than me tend to be nice becuase they are tired of being dicks. But guys my age who are nice are either stupid or green, either way that makes them good marks and entertains my fucked up sense of humor.
Why do i write this, becuase tomorrow is my buisness final, and i have to give a presentation with a buddy of mine, and im going to fuck with him SO FUCKING HARD. His girlfriend didnt think he wanted to go to SatC2. Well, after tomorrows presentation i will have the password to his facebook and his girlfriend will find out. Why is this so easy, cuz my buddy is a nice guy, and an easy mark.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Ive got a bone to pick with the GLSEN again...
Ok, by now im sure everyone has seen this add
So im sure its a valiant attempt to change speech and all. And im sure some thin skinned queens get their panties in a twist about this shit. But seriously, fucking grow a pair. This is retarded.
Even the gay people i know say thats so gay to decribe shitty things. Its part of the vernacular of the country. Its called growing a thick skin and getting over it. I was a minority at my highschool, i was picked on becuase i was white and becuase i sucked dick. Did i go crying to the ACLU or the GLSEN or the GSA? NO. I learned to fight back, and i broke a fuckers rib and another guys nose. I dont know why this is so hard for kids to do now. Has society been so de-balled throwing a punch do defend yourself is now wrong. Have we so sterilized our environment that kids and adults have this thin of a skin.
Let me know, because i am still of the school that if you dont like something you stand up for yourself and change things slowly instead of an add campaign that makes gay people look like catty fucktards. Altho that may be the image GLSEN are trying to promote with all their public campaigns in which case they are super effective.
So im sure its a valiant attempt to change speech and all. And im sure some thin skinned queens get their panties in a twist about this shit. But seriously, fucking grow a pair. This is retarded.
Even the gay people i know say thats so gay to decribe shitty things. Its part of the vernacular of the country. Its called growing a thick skin and getting over it. I was a minority at my highschool, i was picked on becuase i was white and becuase i sucked dick. Did i go crying to the ACLU or the GLSEN or the GSA? NO. I learned to fight back, and i broke a fuckers rib and another guys nose. I dont know why this is so hard for kids to do now. Has society been so de-balled throwing a punch do defend yourself is now wrong. Have we so sterilized our environment that kids and adults have this thin of a skin.
Let me know, because i am still of the school that if you dont like something you stand up for yourself and change things slowly instead of an add campaign that makes gay people look like catty fucktards. Altho that may be the image GLSEN are trying to promote with all their public campaigns in which case they are super effective.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
And introducing this week: The old Skippy!
its been a crazy sorta week. So heres the rundown.
I had a job interview thursday, so i decided instead of trying to drive down to downtown LA early thursday morning, id take the train down to LA Wednesday and hang out with Mindtrip then do the interview and take the train back up to hell.
So after my 8am class on wednesday i hit the bathroom before drivin to the train station. One of my buddies comes in and breaks the cardnal rule of male public restrooms, never stand next to another man at a urinal. well anyway he does it and he startes staring at my junk. Words didnt need to be spoken, i knew what he wanted. I finished pissing then walked to the stall, he did the same. He got on his knees as soon as i shut the stall door. He started to suck my dick, but i was in a hurry. I grabbed his head, put it against the wall and raped the kids face till i made him swallow my nut. As i walked out i said to myself... fuck yeah Skippy is back.
I had a job interview thursday, so i decided instead of trying to drive down to downtown LA early thursday morning, id take the train down to LA Wednesday and hang out with Mindtrip then do the interview and take the train back up to hell.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Past Steps: Recruitment
This one was hard for me to write. Im not sure how to convey all this into words, so i appologize if this does not make sense.
On January 3rd 2010 i enrolled into the Delayed Entry Program (DEP) for the United States Marine Corps, with a ship-out date of August 20th.
Part of being in DEP is doing group PT to 'get you ready for boot camp'. What its really for is getting your fat ass to pass the IST. Over the next few months i was a machine. I worked out, i ran, i did pull ups, i ate healthy. I also started to gain some disipline. However sometimes i had to work late and would miss PT. My favorite was when i finally was allowed to lead PT. We did hard workouts and went home sore as balls. For the first time in my life i really felt like i belonged. I loved every second of it. The people were awsome. Even the people i hated and got me in trouble were cool as hell.
It just kept going, week after week, month after month, pool function after pool function. In july, my buddies from highschool decided an ireland trip was needed, and so they paid for my airfare and my hotel, and paid for some food and drinks. It was an amazing trip, i have never felt so fat in my life and never realized drinking with breakfast was normal. When i got back from Ireland, i found out i was getting laid off from work, which was fine as i was leaving soon anyway. I packed up all my stuff in my truck and drove from Miami to Durham to drop it all off with my sister. Then i came back to Miami and shipped to bootcamp.
August 20th i formally enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. I shipped to MCRD Parris Island that day.
It was the single scariest moment of my life. Standing on yellow footprints outside the massive (looking) brick building. Amazed at what i was doing, and how my life was going to change. The next 72 hours were a blur. We were kept from sleeping to adjust our sleep clocks in line with what the USMC wanted of us. We cleaned our squad bay. made our racks and i remember the first shower i had in 3 days, granted was only 4 minutes long but it was the most glorious 4 minutes of my life. Processing week is what processing week is, bullshit paperwork followed by more bullshit paperwork followed by more bullshit tests. The friday after i got on the island forming started. We met our drill instructors and thats when fear set in. I have to say for a Drill Instructor team, mine was not that bad. Our senior was awesome, our 2 'kill hats' were the devil and our actual instructor was fairly patient compared to others.
I was recruit 33. My rifle number was 19211014. My lock combination was 22-32-10.
In training week 1 i was Second Squad leader. That same week I lost a recruit to dehydration on the PT field. His heart boiled while he ran. His final core temp was 115ish. That afternoon the whole platoon drank 4 canteens or until we puked. We were then given a gatorade to have on our footlockers for the night to replenish the salts we needed. I had firewatch that night.
1 week into recruit training in the USMC and already i allowed one of my men to die under my watch. It was heartbreaking to me. I questioned time and time again during my 2 hours of firewatch (i was being punished and rightly so) what my future in the USMC would be. Did i even deserve to wear the uniform. My constitution was shaken and i dont think it ever recovered.
The next week was me always on the quarterdeck and sandpit. Again, deservedly. During morning cleanup i made the entire squad drink at least 1 canteen. Any time i was allowed to do something with my squad they were drinking a canteen. I think my squad was the only squad to drink the 7-10 canteens they needed.
The friday following we had PT. It was hard, but i was with senior as he liked working with second squad (he also did not trust me to make sure my squad was drinking water). We were doing the Gunnies Cycle and we got to burpie pullups. My body was killing me from the quarter deck and the sandpit. I went to do them trying to be big and bad and it happened. I jupmped up to grab the bar, my right arm caught it, my left arm didnt and my shoulder pulled out. I fell off the bar and screamed fuck. Then i tried to get the guy next to me to pop my shoulder back in place. He couldnt do it. By then senior had seen and came over and i knew my career with the USMC was over. Done. And i was right. I was done.
I was in Branch Medical in 10 minutes. My shoulder was reset and i had a medboard the very same day.
I entered RSP that monday. I was gone by the following tuesday.
I spent 1 full month in the United States Marine Corps. I learned alot of things while i was there. But im not sure if it was good for me in the long run. I know i miss it and if i ever had another chance, i would most likely join again.
I feel that i failed everyone at the same time. My mother has had to let me back into her house. My father and mother have to support me and now i cant even find a job to earn my keep.
I have no real idea how to deal with this. Its been 8 months, but still dont know how to feel about all this. I ignore it most of the time to get through daily life, but i miss it so bad. I miss the structure, i miss the not worrying about bills and food. I miss the life. Most of all i miss my buddies. They have all gone on to job training, to deployments and they tell me i was lucky. But all i want is to be where they are, doing what they are doing fighting for me and my way of life, but instead im here doing nothing while they fight and die.
i feel worthless. Discarded. Used.
And the worst part is, this time i did it to myself.
On January 3rd 2010 i enrolled into the Delayed Entry Program (DEP) for the United States Marine Corps, with a ship-out date of August 20th.
Part of being in DEP is doing group PT to 'get you ready for boot camp'. What its really for is getting your fat ass to pass the IST. Over the next few months i was a machine. I worked out, i ran, i did pull ups, i ate healthy. I also started to gain some disipline. However sometimes i had to work late and would miss PT. My favorite was when i finally was allowed to lead PT. We did hard workouts and went home sore as balls. For the first time in my life i really felt like i belonged. I loved every second of it. The people were awsome. Even the people i hated and got me in trouble were cool as hell.
It just kept going, week after week, month after month, pool function after pool function. In july, my buddies from highschool decided an ireland trip was needed, and so they paid for my airfare and my hotel, and paid for some food and drinks. It was an amazing trip, i have never felt so fat in my life and never realized drinking with breakfast was normal. When i got back from Ireland, i found out i was getting laid off from work, which was fine as i was leaving soon anyway. I packed up all my stuff in my truck and drove from Miami to Durham to drop it all off with my sister. Then i came back to Miami and shipped to bootcamp.
August 20th i formally enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. I shipped to MCRD Parris Island that day.
It was the single scariest moment of my life. Standing on yellow footprints outside the massive (looking) brick building. Amazed at what i was doing, and how my life was going to change. The next 72 hours were a blur. We were kept from sleeping to adjust our sleep clocks in line with what the USMC wanted of us. We cleaned our squad bay. made our racks and i remember the first shower i had in 3 days, granted was only 4 minutes long but it was the most glorious 4 minutes of my life. Processing week is what processing week is, bullshit paperwork followed by more bullshit paperwork followed by more bullshit tests. The friday after i got on the island forming started. We met our drill instructors and thats when fear set in. I have to say for a Drill Instructor team, mine was not that bad. Our senior was awesome, our 2 'kill hats' were the devil and our actual instructor was fairly patient compared to others.
I was recruit 33. My rifle number was 19211014. My lock combination was 22-32-10.
In training week 1 i was Second Squad leader. That same week I lost a recruit to dehydration on the PT field. His heart boiled while he ran. His final core temp was 115ish. That afternoon the whole platoon drank 4 canteens or until we puked. We were then given a gatorade to have on our footlockers for the night to replenish the salts we needed. I had firewatch that night.
1 week into recruit training in the USMC and already i allowed one of my men to die under my watch. It was heartbreaking to me. I questioned time and time again during my 2 hours of firewatch (i was being punished and rightly so) what my future in the USMC would be. Did i even deserve to wear the uniform. My constitution was shaken and i dont think it ever recovered.
The next week was me always on the quarterdeck and sandpit. Again, deservedly. During morning cleanup i made the entire squad drink at least 1 canteen. Any time i was allowed to do something with my squad they were drinking a canteen. I think my squad was the only squad to drink the 7-10 canteens they needed.
The friday following we had PT. It was hard, but i was with senior as he liked working with second squad (he also did not trust me to make sure my squad was drinking water). We were doing the Gunnies Cycle and we got to burpie pullups. My body was killing me from the quarter deck and the sandpit. I went to do them trying to be big and bad and it happened. I jupmped up to grab the bar, my right arm caught it, my left arm didnt and my shoulder pulled out. I fell off the bar and screamed fuck. Then i tried to get the guy next to me to pop my shoulder back in place. He couldnt do it. By then senior had seen and came over and i knew my career with the USMC was over. Done. And i was right. I was done.
I was in Branch Medical in 10 minutes. My shoulder was reset and i had a medboard the very same day.
I entered RSP that monday. I was gone by the following tuesday.
I spent 1 full month in the United States Marine Corps. I learned alot of things while i was there. But im not sure if it was good for me in the long run. I know i miss it and if i ever had another chance, i would most likely join again.
I feel that i failed everyone at the same time. My mother has had to let me back into her house. My father and mother have to support me and now i cant even find a job to earn my keep.
I have no real idea how to deal with this. Its been 8 months, but still dont know how to feel about all this. I ignore it most of the time to get through daily life, but i miss it so bad. I miss the structure, i miss the not worrying about bills and food. I miss the life. Most of all i miss my buddies. They have all gone on to job training, to deployments and they tell me i was lucky. But all i want is to be where they are, doing what they are doing fighting for me and my way of life, but instead im here doing nothing while they fight and die.
i feel worthless. Discarded. Used.
And the worst part is, this time i did it to myself.
Who the hell am i....
has anyone ever looked in the mirror and asked who the fuck are you?
Thats how i feel right now. Like im an imposter in this body. The skippy i know is sucessfull, works, and fucks a ton. This imposter in my body is barely scraping by, is exhausted all the time and has almost no sex life despite being horny as fuck.
Who the hell stole the Skippy i was?
Did the USMC break me down this much, then never re-build me so i am leaving as broken goods?
Has the shitty economy so drained my hope for the future i have reached 'fuck it' status?
Or am i finally facing real and true depression, without reason or justification?
I am unsure. I joked this week about teenage girls who write 'livejournal, sometimes i think your the only one who gets me'. Now i am no where near that level. But i feel like i dont know who i am anymore. Im shy, im scared, im unsure. I am all the things i hate in others. And the worst part, i dont remember how to be strong.
Thats how i feel right now. Like im an imposter in this body. The skippy i know is sucessfull, works, and fucks a ton. This imposter in my body is barely scraping by, is exhausted all the time and has almost no sex life despite being horny as fuck.
Who the hell stole the Skippy i was?
Did the USMC break me down this much, then never re-build me so i am leaving as broken goods?
Has the shitty economy so drained my hope for the future i have reached 'fuck it' status?
Or am i finally facing real and true depression, without reason or justification?
I am unsure. I joked this week about teenage girls who write 'livejournal, sometimes i think your the only one who gets me'. Now i am no where near that level. But i feel like i dont know who i am anymore. Im shy, im scared, im unsure. I am all the things i hate in others. And the worst part, i dont remember how to be strong.
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