Monthly Archives: November 2011

This Diva Aint No Twilight Diva

As it seems to be a hot topic, I figured I would share my point of view on the ‘Sparkly’.

And by ‘sparkly’, I mean the new ‘Twilight’ trip.  And, I am aware, that by doing so, I may become subject to certain loathing.  Of the act of being attacked in a violent, and brutal manner, by ‘Twilight’ers.

Firstly, let us just say- Vampires do not sparkle.  Now, on that note, I concede to being all creative-like.  After all, I say writers should support each other.  That as a writer, I believe that I can create anything I want.  And, if I want to put something in a blender to do as I will, well, damnit, I will.  That, however, does not excuse people who take what the world accepts as virtually true, and make it their own.  To bastardize folklore and make it pretty enough for tweens.  Shit, I was never allowed to see supernatural stuff like that at twelve.  I snuck it, on my own, or with my dad.

I am envious that someone could take tweenage angst and romance and spin it into vampires that sparkle in daylight (??!!!)

Good on you.  I would have done it too.  Well, without the prissy sparkling vampire.  And that’s coming from a romance loving diva.  I like sparkles.  Just not on vampires.  Even on Kellan Lutz.  (mmm)

One Vampire I would love to be biten by

Like really.  I want a vampire to be sexy, hot, a dream.  I want them to be dangerous. Like bloody dangerous.  Not clingy and spewing more drama than a Kardashian.  (Now, that’s scary!)  I want to be offended in my soul on the viciousness of a vampire.  I want mist, and swarms of bats, and mental illness obsession.  Not broody boy bitches.  (Well, not on a regular basis.  Although there was that one time in that gay bar in Hungary..)

Fine.  There is massive following of lemmings, fans.  The unnatural love of a vampire and a mortal.  Of a werewolf and a mortal.  I am all for triangles.  Mostly they involve XXX.  But for the wee people, not old enough to stay at the mall past 8pm, I think the portrayal of Belle is shit.  Strong willed heroine?  More like saucy, defiant, and boo-whoo sob story.  Poor Belle.  Please.  As a cop, her father needs to cuff her one.

I would rather watch this...wont, but would rather..

Pattison, or whatever, may be an ok actor.  But not my cup of hotness.  The tween world has these sad, romantic, one ball bois.  Skinny as a rake.  Annoying in sensitivity.  Really?  I enjoy more manly leads.

Give me Kellan Lutz any day.  Really, can someone wrap him up for me? That is a wicked vampire.  He could be so sinister, so emotive.  I would trust that vampire in a dark alley.. well, sure you can see where that thought is going….

I can see him, a la Anne Rice, playing with mortals like toys, feasting gorily on criminals.  Now, that’s hot! 

Best werewolf.. nothing pretty about this one..

Mind you, I have seen the first 2 flicks.  The first, I was dragged by my ex-roommate, along with my other roomie/niece.  I sat there in near boredom.  And then… the vision of Emmett.  Kellan.  And the object of a new stalker obsession.  The second, by…wait for it.. Mr. Str8!  And in this one, the Taylor Lautner perverted obsession began.  I had to use all my napkins to sop up Str8’s drool.  And just like the first movie, I ran home to download a GB of photos of this sweet, pretty boi.

As a werewolf… really?  A lead?  No.  Sorry.  He can play the younger version of the real werewolf star.  Again, it is a tween production.  So, it makes sense to put some real brawn and beauty up against the disco glittering undead Edward.

I was practically falling asleep in the theatre.  Aw.. poor Bella.  Bad vamp bitch chasing her.  Yawn.

And now what?  Teenage pregnancy?  Turn into a third-rate hack job of Rosemary’s Baby?  Really????

Is there a moral in this?  Or is teen pregnancy just a plot device for a story that is highly flawed?  The moral I get, is not to have a Jerry Springer episode of teen breeding, and ‘who’s your daddy’, but rather not to watch this sugary coma inducing crap.

Period. 

Give me ‘An American Werewolf in Paris’.  ‘Bram Stoker’s Dracula’.  ‘Nosferatu’.  ‘Interview with a Vampire’.  Hell, even ‘Elvira’!

Now that's a vampire

What’s next for the pathetic Bella?  Falling for a zombie?  Gremlin?  Hobbit?

Give me one redeeming quality in this series?  Just one.  Other then Kellan, or Taylor’s wet dream-iness?

Calling Bella… ring ring ring.. get a life! 

Put that in you sparkly and smoke it.

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See the Colours We Are: A Rant

OK.  Bit of a rant.  Had experienced a couple of things in the past month or so.  1) I had accompanied my friend Tayon and her mother to blown up incident involving one of her sons, before meeting Carlie for a night out. 2) Overheard some racial slurs at random in public.  And I realized something.  Somethings have not changed in the world.  So, I reflected on myself and how I see the world.  That I admit I am  unusual, and a bit of a farce, at times.  But at least I can face myself.   And laugh at myself.  Be who we are, (Native Canadian, black, white, Asian, Middle Eastern, or gay), I get right pissed at racial profiling and ignorance.  So, just wanted to put out there a viewpoint from my head.

The best part of being raised out of Nova Scotia, and in the hood of Jane and Finch in North York (Toronto), was that coming home, here, I see things as (what we call) a ‘fromawayer’.  Toronto, with its ethnic neighbourhoods, meant, that I could see, experience, things from the perspective of the people who made it a bridge from where they came, to the melting pot of Canada.

While I did have friends who were like me, (white, and ‘Canadian’), I grew surrounded by the joys of Chinatown, Little Italy, little India, the Hungarian hood, and the Caribbean.

I knew early on I was different.  And trying to find myself, I tried on being a Prep, a Mod, a Rocker.  I spent much time with my friends who had exotic, colourful cultures, that made me realize, I am Canadian, and that we all come ‘from away’.

I would make pillows, and pillowcases, and apply fabric in frames, made of sari.  I loved saltfish and ackee, jerk chicken, curry everything, and real Chinese and Japanese foods.  Every week in junior and high schools, we would make our way to the Jamaican store to get Jamaican patties on a bun.  And drink ginger root beer.

I was different, and the Kraft dinner, hambugers, hot dogs, and fish cakes were good.  But gimme spicy, hot, delicious food!!

I was awkward and overweight, compensating for the instinctive programming of being gay.  I denied it as long as I could, and embraced things that were not from the world I was raised.

It sickens me that after all the struggles, plights, challenges, and plagues, humans have suffered at the hands of each other in time, that we still have not learned lessons.

People see me. White. And flamboyant. Hell, I am queer and proud of it.  I see people too.  It is not just that as caste of humans, that the gays have adopted the rainbow to represent the vast community we are.  But as hope for all of us to see colour.

I get mad at whites who say shit like, ‘I don’t see skin colour’, or, ‘I have friends who are (pick a colour)’

I see colour.  I see pink, white, brown, black, and all the fabulous shades of humanity.  It is our differences that make up this world.  Without colour, it is not just black and white.  It would dull.

I know pain.  Fear. Humiliation. Loathing. Hatred. Suffering.

I know love. Joy. Happiness. Peace.

I haven’t lived a life of others.  I can empathize.  I can try to understand. I can weep at the darkness humans inflict upon each other.

I can admire, and hope, and laugh and open my heart.  I can open my mind.

I still have faith for us.  I believe. I wish.  I make a stand.

I will eat my curry chicken, or ox tale, or lasagna.  Listen to reggae, bollywood, or musicals.  I will be walking the street like a runway model a la RuPaul, and gurl, don’t get me all up in ur tired ass grill…cos those heels r da bomb!!!

I will ogle, and objectify men (damn, boi, that junk don’t stop!) And do it from an ironic heart.

I will be fierce.  I will be me.  I am the life I have led.  I will balance my good with my bad.  I will hang my dream catchers, wear my moccasin boots, make shit out of sari and I will see you.

Whatever colour.  Creed. Nationality. Good actions or bad.  I expect you to see me too.

 

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Str8, Support & Art Deconstruction

Working on being creative around Mr. Str8 is often like Fozzy Bear trying to get through his stand-up routine, being heckled by Statler & Woldorf.

Like Fozzie, I get heckled too

So as a general rule, I usually work at the table in the kitchen/eating area.  I toil away on the laptop, while he plays on his PlayStation2, killing zombies, or conquering the universe of Star Trek, or has ‘fantasy’ battles, to make his ‘final’ quest to save some land or another.

He came out to tease me, and stood looking at the screen.

Str8: Watcha doin now?

Me: digital photo stuff.

Str8: (after a bit) You keep using the same picture.

Me: It’s a good one to do stuff with.

Str8: What you doing now?

Me: making pop art.

Str8: fucking up the photo more like.

Me: Now that you shared your pleasantness, don’t you have a video game to play?

Str8: thought you wanted us to spend more time together?

Me: While that is normally true, I love you.. but stop picking at my work.

St8: Ok. Back to the game, so you can work on u fake art.

Me: Ok, g’bye now jackass.

While Str8 can be known to be supportive, he has no tact.  And his Archie Bunker-ness is not always appreciated.  I would rather be Lucy Ricardo, then Edith.  Huh… actually that fits well.  It’s like a mashup of characters.  A Lucy/Edith, and Ricky/Archie. Anyways..

I took to technology, like a cat being dragged to water.  I kicked and tried to avoid it.  The world was changing as I tried to dip a toe into it.

By the time the internet became the internet, and most people I knew had it, I had just gotten cable.  With a cool box on my 18 year little 17inch screen TV, I had over 200 channels.  And watched as much as I could.  It was great.  By this time, the world was charging excitedly into digital cable.

Nearly a decade later, after texting became commonplace, I finally started, being verbally assaulted by friends, who complained I never called them back, and texting would be easier.

I am only getting into digital manipulation of photos.  There are creative and talented tweens who seem born with the abililty to do anything to video clips and have way more interesting works than I.

I still do not understand the whole messaging idea.  I do not get the ettiquette of instant messaging.  I will chat, and not inform my chat-mates if I step away, or at the end, I just close out.  Hence the loss of any stranger I have meet online, as I feel they are not real, and therefore,  easily forgotten.

So, my teaching myself to work with technology seems to be a source of amusement with Str8.  And he will run with driving me over the edge.

Str8: (online chat, after checkin his email) What the fuck is with all the pictures you keep posting on my Facebook?

Me: What? (innocent)

Str8: These pictures. I got ten emails.  Stop putting that shit on it.  What are you doin?

Me: I wanted to show off what I did to our pix together.

Str8: Well stop showing off.  You’re not fuckin Picaso! Trust me!

Str8 & I in Pop Art

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Str8 to a New Cell ( Or: Cell Crash Derby)

I had texted Mr. Str8.  After work, he went to the market.  I didn’t get another text, and about an hour had passed, before he popped online, and thank gosh for my cell, that I had been on chat.  I was perplexed, and as I was questioning his surprising me online, this is the text I got:

Mr. Str8: “don’t text.  Cell keys fucked up.  I smashed it”.

Temper 1, cell phone 0.  So, radio silence.  Breathing space for him for 2 more days.  I was a hot mess!

Tuesday I anxiously survived the work day, and rushed home to deal with my computer.  Carlie offered her hubby’s technical services, and I was about to slam the laptop closed, and walk over to their house to have him work on it for me, when I texted my tech genius pal, Techie, I got him to download the drivers from Dell’s website.  And I had called Dell tech support.  And through a series of mishaps, the rep advised us to do just that.  Done buddy, done.  And I pretended that Str8 was working that night, or else, I would have blown out the bomb of a vein on my head.  Only, he showed up online, tried to contact me on chat, but I missed him.  And, finally, close to midnight, off to bed I went.

On Wednesday, Str8 got in, and I wanted to let him get an idea of the options for a new cell.  He started to get frustrated as I explained them, and scrolled through the choices.  And with a deep frowned brow,  something caught his eye.

Str8: 39.99?…Sold

I looked at the tiny buttoned cell, and raised one of my brows.  I let it go.  I needed sleep to deal with his affliction of anti-technology comprehension syndrome.

So, Thursday after work, I now had to deal with shopping for another cell.  As we drove to, and parked at the Source, I was trying to convince Str8 that all is good.  He needs to find a new cell, and put to his account.  (He is a prepaid, no hassles, no frills Str8 guy).  And once inside, while humourous, it was painful.  And it went a little something like this:

Str8: I need a new cell. I got mad and smashed it at Sobey’s.

Salesman: Ooooh..kkk.. Yes, u sure do need a new cell.

Str8: We saw one for 39.99.

Me: Did you not want to check out the slider?

Str8: I want a phone easy to text with. I don’t care.

Salesman: Well… (He presented Str8 with the options on the display)

This one is a good one for texting. (showing him one of the sliders)

Str8: How much is this?

Salesman: $99.99

Str8: NO.

Salesman: Ok… (we start comparing prices)

And what plan do you have now?

Str8: $20, unlimited texting, 30 cent a minute calling… (this means that his attention is now off of actively shopping for a new cell)

Salesman:  Have you looked at the newest plans they have?

Me: Ahhh…(I snapped my head to the salesman, eyes wide in terror, knowing this was not going to go well)

Str8: I don’t want a contract.  I even hate the prepaid plans.  NO contract!

Salesman: These are not contracts.  It’s prepaid.  You get plan like a contract, but it is pay as you go. You can get the phone for free, and they take off a percentage of the value of the phone…

(and I watched as the Salesman lost Str8.  The blank expression, the glazed up eyes, I can even heard the sound in his ears as ‘wwaaawaaaawwwaahhh  wahhahaawaaaaa’)

…..and if you walk away from it, you just pay off the balance of the cost of the phone.

Str8: (shaking his head) Ok.  Wait.  I blanked out.  Give that to me again.

Me: (hanging my head) Oh no, here we go.

(the Salesman launches into the explanation again, and I tried to help break it down).

Str8: But I get all that now, for $20 a month!

Me: (to Salesman) Ok, so that’s a no.  We’ll just buy the phone, and put it on the existing account.  Ok?

Str8: Ok.  And I want this one.  (takes the LG Rumour2)

(the Salesman gets through all the set-up.  After a short conversation, and buying a protector cover, and a connection for his iPod for the car, we left the Source).

Me: Ok, now this phone has a security lock, so all you do is first press *, then the arrow key.

Str8: Why the fuck for?

Me: Because it protects u from pocket dialing.

Str8: I can see that pissing me off.

Me: I can see that too.  And be careful with sliding it open and closed, it’s sensitive.

Str8: I am regretting buying this phone already.

Me: Too late now, so happy new cell to you! (I laugh).  And please just relax with it.  Take your time.

Str8: Considering what I paid for it, I better.

Me: Good boy, that’s a good boy!  (mockingly, as if to a puppy)

Str8: And give me my phone before you fuck it up.

Me: Right.  Cos that’s what I do.  You’re just so pleasant.

Str8:  I know. (sounding cocky).

Me: I put the picture of ice cubes on your screen.  Did you want me to change that?

Str8: (looking at it) Naw, that’s good.  It reminds of vodka.

And now we both have new cells.  And I am wondering at this point, how much more challenging this month will be.  I am back on track with my computer, and Str8 will have his patience tested.  I can only hope it goes well.

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X’s, Sex, Mapping the Path, Str8 & the First Diva

Filing this one under My life, As uncommon.  It is true that most of me, the usually dominate personality, is the bubbly, generous, sweet, attention loving clown.  As a Gemini, it struggles with the wicked, dark personality.  So, I often, to be nice, make offers that I may not really be 100% on fulfilling.  Although I do (mostly) follow through, there are occasions that it really is not just about me.  Case in point, this past weekend.  I had extended an offer to host Mr. Str8’s ex (and mother to his daughter), if she were to get down to the city.  And she cashed in the I.O.U.  And this has me

So, as sincere as the gesture was/is, I stepped out of my house, and sighed.  I have always had the big dream of being financially secure enough to have a house that I was proud of, inside and out.  That when people came avisiting, then I would be the quintesensial host, a la Bre Van De Camp in ‘Desperate Housewives’.  That I would be a bit of a pretencious show-off.  But with a heart of gold.  And then I opened my eyes, and took stock of the state of disrepair in my yard.  Meh.  I Know that even as it looks like a right sight, I am honestly still me.  And I grudgingly have admitted that I know me well enough that I do not need to have the best home, to be the person I am.  I will not deny that the ruins of my house on the outside is a source of stress still.  The tension I get is the old throw back to my soul crushing desire to be LIKED.

I want to be able to get to know the woman who birthed my awesome step-daughter, and who has an eternal connection to Str8.  The distance, however, has not given much in regards to familiarizing, sharing, and dealing with the in-laws.  With a good 3 ½ hour drive between me and the newer family members, (did I mention I am car-less?), I have been relegated into the corner of obscurity, as vague recollections of moments of interactions.  Having only met her once, for a few minutes, face to face, we have had a brief exchange on Facebook chat, over the years.  So, really, we are pretty much still unfamiliar with each other.  So, to try to make a good impression, I launched into a cleaning rage, and tried to prepare for the visit.

It may not be the perfect world we wish it to be, that families are bound united forever.  Gone are the days were couples stayed together because of family.  Somewhere between this, and the last turn of the century, we have evolved (and devolved).  And it has shaped us.  Ex-partners moving on, finding new ones.  Let’s face it, who of us has not been touched in some way by extended familes?  Hell, half of Hollywood is virtually related, what with all the partner swapping, and oh ya, divorce!  And as if it was a challenge for women to have ex’s with other women, and men to have ex’s with other men, now we got sexual lines all blurred up in the ‘Crying Game’ like carousel, and one now, never knows which side of the fence to expect the inevitable interaction with the ‘other partner’.

There is a growing number of men and women extracting themselves out of straight relationships.  They are finally accepting themselves as something other than ‘straight’.  Taking the risk to find love and happiness, they are blending families, as well as making a giant leap for queer kind.

There are women, and men, who have yet to completely let go of former partners.  The relationship maybe over, but it can evolve into a stronger friendship.  To see another woman, or man, with the ex, can be emotional.  There are boundaries, and there are boundaries.  Sometimes, this can be a nightmare.  Let’s face it.  Love usually never dies, and it is a personal growth event to be graceful and mature in dealing with the new partner of your old one.  And vise versa.

There is the ego, the history, the connection to overcome, as well, for the new member of this mix.  For me, meeting the Frist Wife, is more than important.  It is a priority.  I am the partner of man who has a child.  A step-parent type role, that will ever be intertwined with the one person, who has been in a relationship with him.  The ability for the past and present mates to get along with each other, can often determines the outcome of the progressing relationship.

For me, having Karen for the weekend, was like having an in-law visit.  I know the score, but I cannot lock my mind on the fact that, after over 15 years, she has been a significant part of Str8’s life.  When it comes to their child, she will be envolved in our lives.  Being an adult means not being catty, or nasty, rather being friends.  All the best to those who become good friends.  Good luck to those who are pleasant enough to each other.

And then we have the rest of the puzzle.  The family.  Dealing with a new boy/girlfriend can be difficult, but make the new mate the same sex, and those less than open minded will be exposed.  Now, so far, as being awkward, meeting the men in Str8’s family as been, it has gone rather well.  I felt a slight chill, mind you.  But I chalked that up to them being nervous and awkward too.  Nothing hostile or negative.  Regardless of other family members, one can deal with them.  It’s a no brainer.  Family is family.  But the peripheral members, the  exes, are a different level.  They exist either solely as subject of attack, or as the precious, beloved mate, who the new one will measure up to.  In my case, everyone loves Karen.  But I get the feeling that there were minimal interactions.  So, the stepping into the role as partner to Str8, has not been overshadowed by her history.

As for the weekend, it was a good time.  We went to the mall, talked, laughed, even played a game of Monopoly, between Str8, Karen, and Carlie (who came for a visit), and I.  She brought over her daughter, and the girls chatted on their own.  (I was the first one out, however, Karen won, and she slaughtered Str8).  I wanted to be as welcoming as I could be.  And no clashes.  My parents suffered the horror of dealing with a similar scenario.  I am grateful that this is not the case for me.  Now, Karen and I may never really be friends, but at least, we have common ground, and a positive attitude about that fact that we are the momma type figures in our little family, and while I may be dating Str8, she is, the First Wife.  And I can respect that.  After all, if things end for us, I know that while Karen is the first first… I will be on my very own level, as the First Husband.  And that my friends, I think, is an equal position.

However, I have registered the title of First Diva.  And that role, trumps the original First Wife lead.

So the clash of personalities, egos, claims, and such, can interfere with being grown up adults, and taking the world as it is.  For those that have a same sex partner, introduction to family and friends, can be stressful.  Even more so, by adding in children, and the other parent.  Gay couples can be more visible, as well as more unsettling for some.  I am grateful that for me, Str8 has good taste in mates.  And that we, on our own accord, get along.  Whether or not there may be the occasional clash or head-butting, our places, roles, connections and positions are recognized.  It is often a challenge to deal with an ex and their new partner.  I can say with clarity, that I am not jealous of Str8 and any time he may still spend with Karen.  I am rather envious of the relationship they share, after about 20 years of history.  I can only wonder what the future will bring for Str8 and myself.  And only time will tell.

How some people can get crazy and lose control in these situations, I surely can understand.  If it is just the ‘adults’, then, if you want drama, be me guest.  But throw in children- and now you have to rise to the occasion, and be a better person.  I feel sorry for kids in such spectacles.  And then make the new partner, same sexed… even the most well rounded person can have a glitch and twitch in the process.  It is being more common, as people are breaking out of the closet.  And it is about time, too.  The world has changed in many dramatic ways, in the last couple of decades.  All of us who are creating new weaves into the fabric of society, will be leading the way to a time when there will be only a few people who will not have been, at some point, a part of a bisexually blended family.  And the attention, and focus will no longer be on parents who start dating members of the same sex.  I for one, an glad that I am in the middle of social change.  After all, I am gay.  A Gemini.  And while not the First Wife.. I know, that I am the First Diva, in my world.  That I am one of the lucky ones, who can be accepted into a family, and have a good positive relationship with an ex of my partner.  And suddenly, I am no longer concerned about the state of my house.

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Filed under Humour, Rant, Relationships, Silly Me

The Ides Of November

Sometimes things happen in bunches, and no matter how much you try to plan, the universe will say, ‘no’.  In October, while trying to plan out for November, I was struck with e-cell phone dysfunction.  It got worse, and finally, after nearly smashing it, I rushed to get a new one.  I was also rushed to deal with restoring my computer.  The agonizing hours of backing up files, and ensuring all my work was saved, the thousands of songs from iTunes, the videos, the photos…I am gobsmacked at the amount of crap I actually have on it.  Clutter, not unlike that which is the content of my head, and most irksome stuff about my house.  And of course, there is Mr. Str8.

With determination, the cell got set up, the files backed up, and prepared for a weekend visit from Str8’s ex and daughter.  I, with much trepidation, began the reinstall of my computer, on Monday.  It went swimmingly.  Or, so I thought.  Doing what I thought was the correct steps, I went to connect to the internet.  And computer said, “NO”.  I flipped out.  Could not find the driver?  Really?  I put the disc in.  Referring back to the manual, it didn’t have any more to say past the ‘follow the instructions’, once the main Windows disc was done.  Really?  This was now nearly midnight, and I had to get to bed for work.  With a blue streak of profanity utterances, I tried to sleep.  I need to get on the internet. While I was in the throes of frustrated anguish, I had texted Mr. Str8.  After work, he went to the market.  I didn’t get another text, and about an hour had passed, before he popped online, and thank gosh for my cell, that I had been on chat.  I was perplexed, and as I was questioning his surprising me online, this is the text I got:

Mr. Str8: “don’t text.  Cell keys fucked up.  I smashed it”.

Temper 1, cell phone 0.  So, radio silence.  Breathing space for him for 2 more days.  I was a hot mess!

Tuesday I anxiously survived the work day, and rushed home to deal with my computer.  Carlie offered her hubby’s technical services, and I was about to slam the laptop closed, and walk over to their house to have him work on it for me, when I texted my tech genius pal, Techie, I got him to download the drivers from Dell’s website.  And I had called Dell tech support.  And through a series of mishaps, the rep advised us to do just that.  Done buddy, done.  And I pretended that Str8 was working that night, or else, I would have blown out the bomb of a vein on my head.  Only, he showed up online, tried to contact me on chat, but I missed him.  And, finally, close to midnight, off to bed I went.

Wednesday, I successfully got back online, and was enthralled with the newness of my computer.  The newer, updated versions of programmes, the general look.  And the reason that I suffered internet dysfunction, was that Windows Vista, never had the internet drive on the reinstall disc.  U need to download that shit.  Thanks for letting me know, Dell!!!!  Techie said everyone knew that.  Not this Diva!  So, all’s well that ends well.  As far as I know, I got everything working right.  (Insert sigh of relief)

And as I start to have things settle down, I am looking forward to the month.

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Str8 Talk: Call It As It Is

So, it seems that some of you enjoy the sharp wit of Mr. Str8.  That even if he says inappropriate things, it rarely comes from a bad place.  (Unless naturally you piss off the good ole boy, and the redneck comes out…). 

And one memorible exchange:

Str8: What’s with the redneck, Cape Breton shit?

Me: What?

Str8: You are always making jokes.

Me: Seriously?  Like you don’t make fun of things and people?  What about feminine gayboys?

Str8: Yeah, fruits.

Me: My friend, Mariam?

Str8: Bitch.

Me: Me?

Str8: Missy…. the Mrs.

Me: Henry? (a friendly older barfly we talk to)

Str8: Pedaphile.

Me: Ok… So.. and making jokes, not making fun, of Cape Breton… you don’t see it?  Really, do you hear the shit you say?

Str8: What?

Me: Wow. You sure none of your family gave you moonshine as a baby?

********************************************************************

Another exchange:

Str8: I fixed your door.

Me: Really?  Thank you Babe.

Str8: Looks like you tried to, but failed.

Me: Wow. And then the floor rips open..it was working just fine, thank you.

Str8: Well it’s working better now.  You can thank me after dinner. (winks)

Me:Really?

Str8:Yup.  It’s going to be your turn to work.

Me:Then, I guess you ll owe me cos you took about 5 minutes to fix that door mister, so you got 5 minutes in bed, so lets go…

 

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Filed under Quotes, Relationships, Silly Me