Well the married man and I are no longer. There was a simple rondavue. We talked. At first things were great. We got along well. Then his sense of failure as a husband was suddenly an issue. He didn't want to hold hands. He became distant and in the end, it came down to guilt on his part. I'm glad he made the right decision. I have no hard feelings. Plus he has a son close to my age. Don't worry, I already asked and No his son is not gay. There, I beat you to the punch.
Went on another date last Thursday. This one was exciting. He was sweet and very cute. We emailed back and forth for a while. Thursday I had the evening alone and I invited him over for some wine. He had to work Friday so just one bottle. Sad, I know. He was dressed like he worked somewhere that required him to dress like a fag. I was guessing Banana Republic but it turns out he's a case worker. I have to admit here, I am not good at first dates. I get nervous and I start to ramble. I talk about getting married and divorced in Spain or why I have never done adult films. You know, the things that make first dates awkward. He talked wryly about his job. His BMW. Here I will fully admit he did not spew off the normal crap about how great his car is. He just said he always wanted to have one and he works overtime.
I'm sitting there, feeling sorry that I have spent time in the slammer and do not really work that often when he tells me he has a 6 year old daughter. Super cute, right? I say wrong! It's baggage. It's unnatural for young people this day and age to procreate. You might say, well he's gay,is that what you mean? No. Lots of gay people have children. He's a young 26 year old gay man. I guess when he was 20 he was bisexual. I didn't care to ask. Hate me for dating married men with children then hating young men with 6 year old daughters. Hey...I saw this guy as long term material. The married guy, I wasn't so delusional so his children were mostly his baggage for me to never see. My mind has been working backwards lately.
In the end, it really didn't bother me. Its progressive in a way. He has his life together and I forget to feed my chihuahua. Deep down inside it's jealousy. The married man was great, because I can have what I want and feel good about myself for making others feel sinful and lustful and do sinful adulterous things. This guy, he's great. He's stable, his baby mamma and him are friends, great job, very good listener and funny. I hope he calls me. I got a great good night kiss and I promise to everyone reading this hear and now I was not drunk (we shared a bottle) when I kissed him good night. I got really drunk after he left. I swear. I doubt he'll call though. It's been 3 days and I'm most definitely not Gigi from "He's Just Not That Into You". I look at the cold hard facts. I smoke like a chimney, drink like a fish and have enough pharmaceuticals in me half the time I can start my own mexican pharmacy. But yet...I still have hope everybody. I think I do. It's been a long week. Wish me luck.
P.S. Sorry about the ads. It's a dog eat dog world out there and I'm just a squirrel trying to get a nut (hopefully 2, because one always looks lopsided).
Monday, June 22, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Cheating, Married Men and Why is it so Goddam hot in here
As many of you know, I'm a former slut. I'm inclined to be reticent on the subject o my falls off the wagon but reticent is not who I am. I slip and fall of the chastity wagon every so often. I'm human, so sue me. Please don't actually. Married men is the term of the day. Most of my blogs happen due to arguments with friends. Some don't have blogs in order to espouse their side, so screw them. They should get their own blog. Anyway, talking to Melissa the other day, I told her this fantastic and extremely hot story that really did happen to me.
I was walking through Wal-mart. Already you know this story is full of surprises and pitfalls. Nothing good ever comes from being at that corporate hell hole. I was shopping for lean cuisines. I admit, I am getting hefty. Not noticeably but yesterday my stomach popped out from under my shirt. Also my belt broke at Dairy Queen while I was ordering a Hunger Buster. I took that as a sign. Normally at wal-mart i just get in, get out and go home. It's very much a casual relationship we have. I noticed this attractive man though while I was checking out the Kashi cereals. I glanced his way, pretty innocently. Perhaps my gaze was too long, but I paid no mind. I figured he would just walk on and be on his merry way. Suddenly I realized, he was following me throughout the store. Like pretending to be shopping in the same aisle, creepy type of following. I admit here, even though he's attractive, he was wearing cowboy boots but I forgave him because he wore great jeans and a tight blue button shirt that told me...he didn't need lean cuisine. Plus when you're feeling fat at wal-mart and someone thin and attractive hits on you, it's very flattering. More than flattering, it's fucking great.
Time passed on. He passed by me a couple of times but didn't say anything. I tried my best to be coy, but coy is yet another thing I am not. I think I blushed at one point and made a slight moaning sound (it's been a while, trust me). So as I finally gave in to my impulses, I walked by the ice cream aisle. Standing there contemplating and fighting demons, he passed by and simply whispered "Can I have your number?". He then kept walking very slyly. My heart dropped. It was all very exciting, and I shall explain. This man, my friends, was walking around with his 11 year old son, and a wedding band. In order for him to talk to me, he sent his son off to get milk or some other grocery item. Disgusting, I know. But I explain why I wasn't. I'm not married.
I walked off, my brain becoming more impulsive and lean cuisine seeming less and less appetizing. I walked off into the wine and beer aisle. My cravings became more sinful and married. I asked him if he had a paper or if he had his cell. He asked me if I was discreet and I said yes. He was a bit nervous, although for a married man to follow around a guy with his son and then ask for his number takes a lot of balls. He called me as I walked off. Told me he would love to hang out with me. That he really liked me. Thought I was hot. He has 3 kids mind you. 21, 12 and 11. He's 39 years old. A very fit 39 years old. He worked and lived in my neighborhood and said he was worried someone may find out. As we chatted over dirty pretty things, I stood in the checkout lane. As he passed by he winked at me. I could have melted.
Later, we met in some slightly secluded neighborhood. Nowhere unsafe, mind you. I'm not about to end up on the 10 o'clock news. We talked, kissed, he told me about himself and why he liked me. He told me his wife thought he was out buying some beer. I told him that nobody cared what I was doing. And there we were, two strangers in the night. He eventually tried holding my hand. An adolescent display of affection but I liked it. I don't know where I'm going with this. We parted ways. He said he would call and I figured, he has more to lose from any further "engagements" we may have so I left the ball in his court. I even removed his number from my phone book and call record. If he wants to call me, he can. I'm willing to see him again. Say what you will about me, I'm a very open person and he's the one cheating. A friend of mine judged me a little harshly and all I have to say is, "What am I doing wrong?". Nothing. Deal with it. Yay me!
I was walking through Wal-mart. Already you know this story is full of surprises and pitfalls. Nothing good ever comes from being at that corporate hell hole. I was shopping for lean cuisines. I admit, I am getting hefty. Not noticeably but yesterday my stomach popped out from under my shirt. Also my belt broke at Dairy Queen while I was ordering a Hunger Buster. I took that as a sign. Normally at wal-mart i just get in, get out and go home. It's very much a casual relationship we have. I noticed this attractive man though while I was checking out the Kashi cereals. I glanced his way, pretty innocently. Perhaps my gaze was too long, but I paid no mind. I figured he would just walk on and be on his merry way. Suddenly I realized, he was following me throughout the store. Like pretending to be shopping in the same aisle, creepy type of following. I admit here, even though he's attractive, he was wearing cowboy boots but I forgave him because he wore great jeans and a tight blue button shirt that told me...he didn't need lean cuisine. Plus when you're feeling fat at wal-mart and someone thin and attractive hits on you, it's very flattering. More than flattering, it's fucking great.
Time passed on. He passed by me a couple of times but didn't say anything. I tried my best to be coy, but coy is yet another thing I am not. I think I blushed at one point and made a slight moaning sound (it's been a while, trust me). So as I finally gave in to my impulses, I walked by the ice cream aisle. Standing there contemplating and fighting demons, he passed by and simply whispered "Can I have your number?". He then kept walking very slyly. My heart dropped. It was all very exciting, and I shall explain. This man, my friends, was walking around with his 11 year old son, and a wedding band. In order for him to talk to me, he sent his son off to get milk or some other grocery item. Disgusting, I know. But I explain why I wasn't. I'm not married.
I walked off, my brain becoming more impulsive and lean cuisine seeming less and less appetizing. I walked off into the wine and beer aisle. My cravings became more sinful and married. I asked him if he had a paper or if he had his cell. He asked me if I was discreet and I said yes. He was a bit nervous, although for a married man to follow around a guy with his son and then ask for his number takes a lot of balls. He called me as I walked off. Told me he would love to hang out with me. That he really liked me. Thought I was hot. He has 3 kids mind you. 21, 12 and 11. He's 39 years old. A very fit 39 years old. He worked and lived in my neighborhood and said he was worried someone may find out. As we chatted over dirty pretty things, I stood in the checkout lane. As he passed by he winked at me. I could have melted.
Later, we met in some slightly secluded neighborhood. Nowhere unsafe, mind you. I'm not about to end up on the 10 o'clock news. We talked, kissed, he told me about himself and why he liked me. He told me his wife thought he was out buying some beer. I told him that nobody cared what I was doing. And there we were, two strangers in the night. He eventually tried holding my hand. An adolescent display of affection but I liked it. I don't know where I'm going with this. We parted ways. He said he would call and I figured, he has more to lose from any further "engagements" we may have so I left the ball in his court. I even removed his number from my phone book and call record. If he wants to call me, he can. I'm willing to see him again. Say what you will about me, I'm a very open person and he's the one cheating. A friend of mine judged me a little harshly and all I have to say is, "What am I doing wrong?". Nothing. Deal with it. Yay me!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Dick Cheney, Same-Sex Marriage and Gay Pride
Dick Cheney said recently that he believes all people are free to join whatever union they would like. Ann Althouse called him the "handmaiden for the left". Let's not forget here, Dick Cheney is no leftist. He is a right wing, dare I say it, nut. Watch the whole thing and you see, sure we can join a union or arrangement we like, but we do not deserve marriage. It's easy to forget history. Dick Cheney shot someone in the face. He also was behind many of George Bush's policies and here I believe that Dick Cheney showed his true colors. I do not go as far to say that he is a horrible man, but as Vice presidents go, he was most definitely a puppeteer. Any arrangement we like can be interpreted into many ways. I can go into a legal arrangement with my television that it'll turn on when I press the power button. Would it hold up in court? Probably not. He skirts the issue, as he did so well in his 8 years as vp. Gay daughter or not, he did not further our cause, but simply gave us a soundbyte. I saw the headline earlier, "Dick Cheney believes people are free to join any union they wish". It sounds great, but like most things Dick Cheney does it just sounds great. Yet again good ol' Dick lets me down. Story of my life.
On another note, Gay pride. It is the local gay pride fest this weekend. I for one, will not be joining. Call me jaded, call me bitter, call me Suzy but it just seems so useless. Stereotypes dancing on floats, mardi gras like celebrating and more men to show all the normal gay men that we do not belong. It's yet again, like being a teenage school girl for the rest of your life. Are you thin, beautiful and popular? Well if not please do not show up. So, maybe I'm not fat, ugly and a social pariah, but I'm not the other extreme either. Our nation was built on diversity but gay pride is yet another event that makes me feel like the fat girl at the prom. Sure I might have a good time, but why even bother to show up? Plus Dick Cheney never returns my calls. So I shall stay home from the ball and eat cheese and crackers with some wine. That's all the pride I need. Former slut...out.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Why Gay.com is Bad for the Gay community
There's a real world then there's an idealistic world. Every major psychology theory has a yin and a yang. Carl Rogers called it an incongruence between the real and ideal self. Medical models will tell you there is a hormonal imbalance of the brain. Freud would call it Eros versus Thanatos (death drive). Reality therapists might say that we act dysfunctional in order to fulfill unmeet needs and that our "quality world" is at odds with the real world. Existentialists would say you have meaninglessness and death anxiety driving you to a neurotic anxiety. Gestalt would say that your lack of responsibility for your own actions may come into play, as you dichotomize your life and focus on meaningful wholeness but never achieving it. Individual psychologists would say you have a inferiority or superiority complex, or maybe you're the first born and are an overachivere. Cognitive therapists would say you have an ego disturbance or perhaps your automatic thoughts drive you to your own irrational behaviors. Consequently, all these theories have a major philosophy behind your neurotic and insane behaviour. You may not know it but at this very moment the things you think, say, worry about are destroying your lives. Well my life at least. I can't point the finger. Freud would say you might want to have sex with my finger. So stop thinking about my finger! But it's such a lovely finger. Long, phallic shaped, smooth but yet a little bit hairy. Do these thoughts make you want to smoke heroin? Who gives a shit. Freud was a cocaine addicted closeted homosexual. He's like a Viennese Karl Rove.
The point is, gay.com is a horrible, disastrous place. I tried searching "gay.com" and bad and well I'm sure I could find a few links to Anne Coulter. Beautiful woman. I'm gay and I'd fuck her, if she was tied up and gagged. I'm sure somewhere a Republican is taking that sentence out of context in order to prove that all homosexuals are deviants. I beg to differ Mr. Republican. All people are deviants, only some of us wear our deviancy on our sleeves. Homophobia aside, gay.com was a website I visited since the ripe young age of 13. I just know from here on out, this is not gonna go well for me in court. "I promise your honor, I wasn't 15 pretending to be 18. That was just some crazy blog I wrote. It's all fiction". But yes, when you are young you can try to pull off anything. I never did anything. Just chatted up people, pretended to be 18. I didn't want to push my luck by pretending I was say, 26. Hell, I am 26 and I have a hard time pretending I'm that age now. Again, I digress too much.
Gay.com is not horrible, but much like any new technology it has its throwbacks. If you live in bumfuck Nebraska, you can reach out to the world and connect with your fellow man (and I have to say legally, you must be 18 to join this website). You can chat with people that may be a little far but going through the same problems as yourself. Isn't that what the internet is all about? Reach out and touch somebody. My problem is, addiction. Porn is great, but if you find yourself in front of a computer screen beating off a few hours a day, then you have a problem. Television is great, but if you spend hours wondering what the weather is like in Akron Ohio or what far-fetched thing Star Jones will be selling on QVC (arm fat cream you say?) then you have a problem. Cell phones are great but when you're the douchebag on his phone in a theater and you accidently get kicked in the head, then you have a problem (and it ain't mine, because I swear my foot slipped and I did not appreciate getting called names or being thrown out of the theater either). Every new technology is great, until it turns on you and owns you. Remember that scene in Requiem for a Dream when Ellen Burstyn thinks her fridge is talking to her? You know, the scary part wasn't that it was talking, it was that we've all been there, am i right? Sitting on the couch eating Doritos at 4am wondering what horrifying thing your fridge has in it, perhaps you've had too much wine, and you look at the fridge and it looks human to you. It can feel emotions and somehow you've either pissed it off or made it happy. Oh yeah girl, yous gonna be on TV. And Jared Leto be getting his arms cut off because although I'm sure somebody on this planet does Heroin in moderation, your son sho don't. Uh huh. I have no idea why I said that. Anyway, stop eating is my point. Put the porn away, the chicken wing down, and turn off your fucking tv because its got swine flu.
And for me, click out of fucking gay.com. Hours upon hours spent talking to douchebags who probably use their cell phones in a theater, guys asking me if i want an enema or less likely to happen but occasionally it does, random small chats. Granted I can think that eventually I'll find a guy I like, we'll settle down and get married and have 1.3 children and .74 dogs, I personally doubt it. It's an ideal world, and like any ideal world, it's not always your ideal. Each person forms their own "quality world" and most of the time it clashes with yours. I just wanted to log in, talk and see what's going on, make friends and maybe a lover or two. That's not exactly what happened. It turned into a bitch fest. Everyone screwing each other, literally and figuratively. My nails came out and I found my fingers were doing most of my socializing, social ranking and decision making. Most of these people I knew in person. You go to some queer watering hole or other and there they are. EnemaLuvr and BigPowerBottom18 are standing right there, wearing whatever trend tells them they should be wearing, pretending they are somebody else yet again.
That's the scary part. That they are real people. You can see them in the grocery store or local adult theater. I live in a kind of small town. Number 21 or something. Anyway, the possibilities of meeting someone online in real life are endless. He's your waiter at Chili's or Applebee's (do they only hire homos?). The problem is, online everyone fantasizes. They make up their own lives. They come up with their own fairy tales, and I promise you after 4 years of therapy and 2 years into my master's as a therapist, real life is not so pretty. But it is not something we should be ashamed of, just something we should face. Sure he's not 6'3 and 180 pounds. Would you want him to? That seems a little anorexic to me. I admit, I cut myself off from the technological world in some ways, but I left one gay.com account. I love to see these baboons in their wild habitat. I feel like Jane Gooddall and all the apes love Britney Spears. Powerbottom18 is most certainly not of age and should be kicked off immediately. EnemaLuvr is 38 and needs to stop saying boi. I hate homos. Sure, take that out of context, but remember we are the most bitchy group of people you'll ever meet. Being gay is like being a teenage girl, for your entire life. Now who wants that? More to come y'all. Did I just say y'all? Well shut up. I'm gay. It's a homo deficiency. So fuck you. Keep on brothers!
The point is, gay.com is a horrible, disastrous place. I tried searching "gay.com" and bad and well I'm sure I could find a few links to Anne Coulter. Beautiful woman. I'm gay and I'd fuck her, if she was tied up and gagged. I'm sure somewhere a Republican is taking that sentence out of context in order to prove that all homosexuals are deviants. I beg to differ Mr. Republican. All people are deviants, only some of us wear our deviancy on our sleeves. Homophobia aside, gay.com was a website I visited since the ripe young age of 13. I just know from here on out, this is not gonna go well for me in court. "I promise your honor, I wasn't 15 pretending to be 18. That was just some crazy blog I wrote. It's all fiction". But yes, when you are young you can try to pull off anything. I never did anything. Just chatted up people, pretended to be 18. I didn't want to push my luck by pretending I was say, 26. Hell, I am 26 and I have a hard time pretending I'm that age now. Again, I digress too much.
Gay.com is not horrible, but much like any new technology it has its throwbacks. If you live in bumfuck Nebraska, you can reach out to the world and connect with your fellow man (and I have to say legally, you must be 18 to join this website). You can chat with people that may be a little far but going through the same problems as yourself. Isn't that what the internet is all about? Reach out and touch somebody. My problem is, addiction. Porn is great, but if you find yourself in front of a computer screen beating off a few hours a day, then you have a problem. Television is great, but if you spend hours wondering what the weather is like in Akron Ohio or what far-fetched thing Star Jones will be selling on QVC (arm fat cream you say?) then you have a problem. Cell phones are great but when you're the douchebag on his phone in a theater and you accidently get kicked in the head, then you have a problem (and it ain't mine, because I swear my foot slipped and I did not appreciate getting called names or being thrown out of the theater either). Every new technology is great, until it turns on you and owns you. Remember that scene in Requiem for a Dream when Ellen Burstyn thinks her fridge is talking to her? You know, the scary part wasn't that it was talking, it was that we've all been there, am i right? Sitting on the couch eating Doritos at 4am wondering what horrifying thing your fridge has in it, perhaps you've had too much wine, and you look at the fridge and it looks human to you. It can feel emotions and somehow you've either pissed it off or made it happy. Oh yeah girl, yous gonna be on TV. And Jared Leto be getting his arms cut off because although I'm sure somebody on this planet does Heroin in moderation, your son sho don't. Uh huh. I have no idea why I said that. Anyway, stop eating is my point. Put the porn away, the chicken wing down, and turn off your fucking tv because its got swine flu.
And for me, click out of fucking gay.com. Hours upon hours spent talking to douchebags who probably use their cell phones in a theater, guys asking me if i want an enema or less likely to happen but occasionally it does, random small chats. Granted I can think that eventually I'll find a guy I like, we'll settle down and get married and have 1.3 children and .74 dogs, I personally doubt it. It's an ideal world, and like any ideal world, it's not always your ideal. Each person forms their own "quality world" and most of the time it clashes with yours. I just wanted to log in, talk and see what's going on, make friends and maybe a lover or two. That's not exactly what happened. It turned into a bitch fest. Everyone screwing each other, literally and figuratively. My nails came out and I found my fingers were doing most of my socializing, social ranking and decision making. Most of these people I knew in person. You go to some queer watering hole or other and there they are. EnemaLuvr and BigPowerBottom18 are standing right there, wearing whatever trend tells them they should be wearing, pretending they are somebody else yet again.
That's the scary part. That they are real people. You can see them in the grocery store or local adult theater. I live in a kind of small town. Number 21 or something. Anyway, the possibilities of meeting someone online in real life are endless. He's your waiter at Chili's or Applebee's (do they only hire homos?). The problem is, online everyone fantasizes. They make up their own lives. They come up with their own fairy tales, and I promise you after 4 years of therapy and 2 years into my master's as a therapist, real life is not so pretty. But it is not something we should be ashamed of, just something we should face. Sure he's not 6'3 and 180 pounds. Would you want him to? That seems a little anorexic to me. I admit, I cut myself off from the technological world in some ways, but I left one gay.com account. I love to see these baboons in their wild habitat. I feel like Jane Gooddall and all the apes love Britney Spears. Powerbottom18 is most certainly not of age and should be kicked off immediately. EnemaLuvr is 38 and needs to stop saying boi. I hate homos. Sure, take that out of context, but remember we are the most bitchy group of people you'll ever meet. Being gay is like being a teenage girl, for your entire life. Now who wants that? More to come y'all. Did I just say y'all? Well shut up. I'm gay. It's a homo deficiency. So fuck you. Keep on brothers!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
The Children are Our Future?
I'm at work right now. I know I should be working right now. They are working on some crap or other. I don't know. Its been a tiring day. This morning my dog was horribly frantic. I walked out with a bag of cd's instead of my lunch and I almost forgot to wear a belt. Granted it's not a horrible day, but then I realized the kids don't have P.E. today. That's 45 minutes of bliss I could've used napping or setting the classroom on fire. Things like that. I hate to say it but this job sucks. The children aren't all the bad, but I watch tv and think, whether they are our future or not is unimportant. They have no future to work with anyway. So, perhaps the children are our future, but we're not leaving them much to work with. Plus they scream a lot and ask to use the restroom every five minutes. I get 35 minutes to eat. I want to scream, but I' can't. I want to run out on them, but I'm sure some of them have already gone through that. I want to quit, but this is the only thing keeping me busy these days. School is almost out. I guess I'll just deal but you bet your sweet ass I'll be drinking like an Irishman when I get out of here.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Always the years between us, Always the years, Always the love, Always the hours
I think one of the most poignant scenes in "The Hours" is when Nicole Kidman is talking to her friend's children. She tells them that it seems she may have to kill someone in her book. She says it has to be the artist, and when the children ask why, she says " Someone has to die in order that the rest of us should value life more. It's contrast." An acquaintance recently took his own life. I don't claim to be close to this person. He was a bartender. I was an alcoholic. I went to his funeral to support a close friend of his and mine. I hate funerals. I can't imagine anyone who would like them, but I mean I hate them. I honestly feel uncomfortable, anxious and clausterphobic. The close family is crying vehemently and I sit there and become selfish, thinking of my own mortality. It's as if, that's where death goes to present itself and stare me in the face. I used to laugh in the face of death. I drove my car into a wall at 80mph and came out with a scratch. I can't imagine how many times I teetered on the brink of what could be death. Everyday we experience it, crossing the street or that bite of seafood. That could be it. I know it's morbid and I don't mean to scare you. I truly don't. I think for me, what happened was a sense of change. I realized, this young man has passed away, and it made me realize how easily it can all fall apart. I once tried to take my own life. I was in a black pit of death. I was lucky. I was found. This young man was not. It opens one's eyes to everything that is out there. How easily it could fall apart but how easily one lets it.
I'm no saint. I know I have my crazy nights. Nights of driving home and not even remembering how I got home. Nights of passion with no recollection if we used a condom. Seafood. Being tested or waking up in jail. All these consequences of the mistakes we make, purposefully. I take full responsibility of what I do. Even if I don't remember. We make the choices and suffer from the consequences. My friend told me that we're just those type of people. The type that live life at about 200mph. The problem with that is that eventually the brakes will go out, you run out of gas or if you're smart, you slow down. Slowing down seems like a logical choice but it's hard and it takes time. When you live life at high speeds, the scenery becomes a blur. Slowing down forces you to see it and sometimes it's not pretty. It's a dark, desolate landscape at times, but if you go slow, I'm sure you can reach your destination. I know I'm taking the car analogy far, but it seems me and cars are not a great mix. So, for me, a car is a perfect analogy. Time to put on my seat belt and go down to third gear, sit back and watch the scenery, no matter what it is.
I'm no saint. I know I have my crazy nights. Nights of driving home and not even remembering how I got home. Nights of passion with no recollection if we used a condom. Seafood. Being tested or waking up in jail. All these consequences of the mistakes we make, purposefully. I take full responsibility of what I do. Even if I don't remember. We make the choices and suffer from the consequences. My friend told me that we're just those type of people. The type that live life at about 200mph. The problem with that is that eventually the brakes will go out, you run out of gas or if you're smart, you slow down. Slowing down seems like a logical choice but it's hard and it takes time. When you live life at high speeds, the scenery becomes a blur. Slowing down forces you to see it and sometimes it's not pretty. It's a dark, desolate landscape at times, but if you go slow, I'm sure you can reach your destination. I know I'm taking the car analogy far, but it seems me and cars are not a great mix. So, for me, a car is a perfect analogy. Time to put on my seat belt and go down to third gear, sit back and watch the scenery, no matter what it is.
And the next state to approve gay marriage is....Iowa?
In a court decision today, gay marriage was deemed legal and according to the state Supreme court, same-sex marriage is equal protection under the law. Yes, that is all great, but IOWA? I can't think of a city in Iowa. Not that I think it's great. I think it's wonderful, but IOWA? Sorry, I can't get over the shock. Progressive California overturns gay marriage and it's legal in IOWA? Sorry, I'm just trying to emphasize my point. Anyway, here is the link to New York Times article on IOWA legalizing gay marriage. Let's all sit and think about this. Red middle America is legalizing gay marriage. This is great, but all these "progressive" states really need to catch up. What's next? Montana? They used to kill gays there and they're probably closer to legalizing gay marriage than California and Washington. Come on blue states...get with the program!
Click here for the article
Click here for the article
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
