!!! It's Raining Men !!!

Thank you Kevin for the Gay Street sign.

'Take Children Out Of School On Day Of Silence'

(Washington) Conservative activist Linda Harvey is calling on parents to take their children out of school on The National Day of Silence - the day LGBT students and their supporters draw awareness to homophobia in classrooms by keeping silent in school.

This year The National Day of Silence will be observed on April 18.

"Teenagers deserve an opportunity to study English, history, math, and science -- without being subjected to pro-homosexual proselytizing sanctioned by school authorities," Harvey said on a Web site she has opened to call for the boycott.

"Students shouldn't be forced to self-censor or adopt beliefs contrary to those of their parents and places of worship," Linda Harvey said on NotOurKids.com.

"Even the strongest of our junior high and high school children are not equipped to serve as frontline soldiers in this culture war."

Harvey operates Mission America and is a frequent commentator on conservative talk radio stations across the country.

NotOurKids.com says it is a coalition of pro-family groups that seeks to protect America's youth from being pressured to approve of homosexual, bisexual, or "transgender" behavior.

In a media release Harvey says that the Web site provides a link to the other groups but as of Tuesday it was not activated.

A study released by the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network to coincide with last year's National Day of Silence, showed that homophobia is widespread in the nation's schools.

Nearly one-in-five students reported they had been physically assaulted because of their sexual orientation and over a tenth because of their gender expression.

Three-quarters of students surveyed said that over the past year they heard derogatory remarks such as "faggot" or "dyke" frequently or often at school, and nearly nine out of ten reported hearing "that's so gay" or "you're so gay" - meaning stupid or worthless - frequently or often.

Over a third of students said they experienced physical harassment at school on the basis of sexual orientation and more than a quarter on the basis of their gender expression.

The study also showed that bullying has had a negative impact on learning.

LGBT students were five times more likely to report having skipped school in the last month because of safety concerns than the general population of students.

Students who experience more frequent physical harassment were more likely to report they did not plan to go to college, the study found.

Overall, LGBT students were twice as likely as the general population of students to report they were not planning to pursue any post-secondary education.

In addition, the average GPA for LGBT students who were frequently physically harassed was half a grade lower than that of LGBT students experiencing less harassment.

Over 6,000 participants are expected to be silent on April 18, wearing stickers and passing out ‘speaking cards’ that read: "Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence, a national youth movement protesting the silence faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies in schools. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by harassment, prejudice, and discrimination. I believe that ending the silence is the first step toward fighting these injustices. Think about the voices you are not hearing today. What are you going to do to end the silence?"

365.com

Open Letter to Spokesman

Mrs Spokesman,

After your declaration of preparing list of jobs banned for homosexual people, I am calling you to answer this following questions:

1) Because after your propositions, we will be obligate to publish our sexual orientation, I am asking to tell me what signs we will be able to wear. This will be signs, know from III Reich (pink triangle collars), or you propose something new.
2) Because your proposition is next step of way, what I was afraid 2 years ago, I what to know, that where in Warsaw you want put homosexual ghetto, and did we have something to say about localization.
3) Because next natural step is going after proposition of League of Polish Families, about "re educational camps" for homosexual people, I want to know, did you will transport us by "animal trains" or you will use more comfortable transport.

If you don't remember, first step of III Reich was banned list for Jews. This way goes to holocaust.
Congratulation for you Mrs. Spokesman for going the same way, as Hitler, who calls for children rights and was marching with signs "God with us".

Middle Ages? Nooo... This is Poland

"We must prepare a list of jobs, where homosexual people will be banned" - said Spokesman of children's rights from Law & Justice. In her opinion, homosexual people shouldn't be allowed to work as teachers, artists and sports instructors. This is next "brilliant" idea of our majority party.
I'm really interested, when they will back to idea of "re educational camps for homosexuals" what League of Polish Families propose before last elections.

Alliance

As I sit on Mr. Nav.'s computer chair to print notes for my AP Stats class ('n' NOT hittin' on him, FYI), he hands me a paper w/ bold, uppercase letters GSA, which stands for Gay Straight Alliance. This was in all of the staffers' mail boxes to show, selectively, to their students. This is the first time my school has had a teacher to advise meetings of such an issue. Fortunately, there are several supportive staff, especially our new co-principal.

The first meeting was held during lunch in a science classroom of a very young teacher, Ms. S.. Lunch kicked off w/ Ms. S. tellin' us the purpose of the club, which is to stop discrimination. She then gave us a brief history of discrimination and hate crimes, but emphasized the incident of Matthew Shepard, a greusome hate crime I never knew of until now. The club then had an open forum w/ topics of what types of discrimination we've seen or have been involved w/ on campus, and what types of hate crimes we've seen on campus. As far as the discrimination 'n' hate crimes went, I mentioned a lot, but on the hate crime on gays extent, I was silent as I heard the classroom of a small number of gay/bisexual students pour out their stories. I suppose that I had little to say on that subject, b/c I've never been directly attacked for my sexuality, as all of my friends that know of my orientation are accepting (even had their perspective of gays changed for the better); but these other students have a rougher 'n' horrifying high school life, as they've been harassed 'n' beat up b/c of who they are. It has definitely opened my eyes, b/c I was unaware of these hate acts happening, so I am more than ever a big supporter of my peers.

The last topic was about how can we begin to promote tolerance on campus. Everyone couldn't think of anything else, but raise awareness 'n' "logic someone to death" if one uses the word gay in irrelevant context.

Do any of you have any suggestions as to how we can have growth of tolerance on school campus?

Signs of Spring, 2007 (01)

"Flowering Plum" March 17th, 2007, Seattle

Do You Still Want to Participate In This Site???

Just like all of those gay home makeover shows on HGTV, we're remaking this website! There are a number of you who are listed as contributors currently and we'd like to make sure that you are still interested in participating. We'd just like to get this site pumped up a little and keep things fresh and kickin' around here. So, please email me at alewispdx@gmail.com within the next couple of weeks with a simple "Yes" or "No." Also, please include your name and your blog's name so we can identify you. If I haven't heard from you within that time frame, your name will be removed from the contributor list. We know that many of you don't post here regularly, and that's perfectly fine. There are not too many rules around here. But if you are truly not interested, just let me know. You'll also see a few other changes as the weeks/months go by -- we hope you'll enjoy the new look and feel of It's Raining Men. By Lewis

South Carolina Sucks

COLUMBIA, S.C. -- South Carolina officially banned gay marriage on Thursday.

Lawmakers ratified a constitutional amendment overwhelmingly approved by voters in November.

South Carolina was among eight states with gay marriage bans on the ballot last year. The measures passed everywhere except Arizona.

The state already had a law against same-sex marriages. But proponents said the amendment was needed to prevent judges from opening the door to civil unions.

In New Hampshire, a state House panel has endorsed the creation of civil unions. A vote by the full New Hampshire House is expected next week. The measure also must pass the Senate.

Only Massachusetts allows gay couples to marry. Vermont, Connecticut and New Jersey allow civil unions, and California has domestic partnerships.

From AP News.

My 2 cents on this is as gay people we need 2 stop spending are gay dollars in states like this. I know its hard thing 2 do cause more states are against us than for us but if we slow down and even stop going 2 these states stop the flow of the gay dollar they might see they need us as we need the same rights as everyone else. Just my 2 cents.

Peace!

Polish Nazi Groups under Police protection

Some days ago in one of Polish cities neo nazi group from "Narodowe Odrodzenie Polski" (National Rebirth of Poland) had legal demonstration. They was marched by the streets with banners "White race for Europe, AIDS for Africa", and "White race, one race". Their demonstration was legal, and Police protected them.
NOP is famous from action "Stop for Fags" and many others against Jews and non Polish citizens.
In our law their banners was illegal, but Police don't do nothing, except arresting contrdemonstrators. Why?
Because in our country nobody wants fight against racism, homophobia and nationalism. Why?
Because we have racists, homophobes and nationalists in our government. That's why.
In other hand, they want to make a law against blogers and free speach. Law & Justice want block Polish Internet for "bad words against President, Prime Minister and Parlament".
Are we live in deep Middle Ages, or this is only nightmare?

My Dad Part 3 -- Finale, The Curtain Must Close

It was March 19, 1994.…13 years ago today….and my alarm went off at 6:45am. I was in Liverpool, England, directly on the cold, dark Irish Sea, and beginning day three of our Rehearsal Camp for the British Continentals,a group that I was going to be directing on a musical tour through England, Scotland, The Netherlands, Denmark, and Germany. As I lay there trying to get every minute of sleep possible, there was a knock at my door. A telephone message had been received during the night by the camp operator. I was supposed to call my sister. My heart was broken already, I knew what message was waiting. I was exhausted. Physically but also turning like a butter churn internally. I knew I should be in a hurry to return the call but I wasn’t. I had left Boise only four days earlier after throwing myself across my father’s lap as he sat in his wheelchair at the airport -- his oxygen pumping away. And me on my hands and knees in the boarding area, bawling like a child, my luggage tossed aside. I got up from his lap and went around behind him. I put my face against his cool, old skin and bones and held him as he grunted, groaned, and tried to wave me toward the airplane. I knew the inevitable was soon coming. My god, it couldn’t be….could it? Never again would I see the life in his eyes.

As I made my way out into the early Sunday morning, I remember thinking how warm it felt especially being, literally, just across the road from the sea. I breathed deeply and heavily, trying as nearly as I could, to propel myself into calmness. The phone was ringing thousands of miles away. Her shaky, monotone, and dark voice said that “Dad passed away two hours ago.” The doctors had wanted him to stay in the Portland VA Hospital for his dehydration. But he wrote “Boise” on his notebook. He wanted to go home. A place of comfort, respite, if any were to be found. The doctor finally agreed to let my mom drive him the 450 miles to the VA Hospital in Boise and check him in. She drove through the drenching rain having to stop repeatedly to fix the windshield wipers. My amazing parents spent the last night of their 33 years together in an old roadside motel just west of Pendleton, Oregon. You just never know where the road you’re traveling is going to end up. Dad couldn’t breathe while laying down any longer so he slept in a recliner, upright. I still have the handwritten notes he wrote to the doctors and family that last afternoon. It is incredible to trace his journey by reading scribbled notes. That evening ,carbon dioxide began building up in his body. “Your husband is in critical condition and probably won’t live through the night” the nurse told my mom in the hallway outside his room. “Call your family together.” How could this be? Can’t we just put in a feeding tube…that should take care of it. Did he actually hear them saying that he wouldn’t make it through the night? His last words on paper: “I have to go to the bathroom….pee….it’s hot.” My brother and my mom were on either side of the recliner that my father was resting in. They sort of “looked at each other” at 10pm and their tired eyes told each other that he wasn’t breathing any longer. Lewis was gone. Damn that wretched Lou Gehrig’s Disease….it would never haunt him again. I walked back to my room in the warm wind just as the sun was making it’s way up over England. I’m glad it wasn’t raining that morning. I returned home the very next day. All of the way back across the globe to where I’d just come from a few days earlier.

He lay in his Navy uniform, glasses in place, and hands folded just so. You wouldn’t have believed the red, white, and blue flowers that were jam-packed into the small viewing room. The morning of his funeral, I took the car to get it washed….well, at least that’s what I used as my excuse to go, by myself, for one last visit with my father. I slipped into the Alden-Waggoner Funeral Home, turned left, and down the hall where he and I had a chat. I kissed his cold hands that had worked so hard for 62 years. And I leaned into the wooden box as far as I dared and hugged his face as tightly as I could. I thought it may break….no, wait, that’s my heart. That blip in history, my friends, will wring water from my eyes forever. The rest of the day was spent with 500 of his dearest friends at his completely overwhelming funeral--45 minutes for their long, wan faces to file past his casket. The moment or two before the lid was closed permanently is one moment of time that etches itself in my memory. “Wait,“ I wanted to shout. I would never see him again. Never. And, that was it. The lid closed and locked. His essential life lessons to me were over. Class was dismissed. There were so many of his fellow Navy men and women who volunteered to salute him that day that they had to turn them down. His impact on the people of this earth was dramatic in a horribly simplistic way. As the seven rifles cracked three times with their 21-gun salute, we jumped…but in silence…on the hillside above Boise that spring afternoon with the wind blowing. It still blows there today. The flag was folded with precision by the Navy and rested gently on my mother’s lap. As we drove away, my determined and self-assured mom staring, almost glaring, in silence--her voice broke, the wind seemingly sucked out of her lungs, and she sobbed. “I told him to wait for me but he couldn’t.”

My father never met a stranger. His infectious smile broke across the deepest of divides. I have no idea whether he knew about my sexuality or not. I have no regrets. None. I do wish that I’d done more to open myself up to him…not only in the last few short years…but throughout my whole fleeting lifetime. I wish I’d allowed him to see me for who I truly am. Time is short, my friends. Very. Don’t waste it. I wish that he’d been able to know me as a gay man….his gay son. The man that I know I am today. His spirit lives on in me, that I know. I find myself thinking like him, acting like him, even, possibly, looking like him. And, in the greatest of honors, I now use his name for my own when I can. He would be proud, I know he would. I can see his smile, his crooked teeth, hear his bright laughing voice, and feel his positive energy even today. I loved him dearly. My world isn’t the same without him in it. But in some crazy, unexplainable way, it is. He lives on in me….and that, my dear comrades, makes my journey on this earth complete. By Lewis

Justice out the window... HNT Style

Okay... I admit, I have not been over here in a while to post... but I am going to try and post more... so here is one from my blog yesterday....

Justice is out the window at The White House and on American Idol… Jesus F’n Christ America!! Get your fucking heads out your ass. First we have this whole debacle in DC with the Attorney General and the firing of some Federal Prosecutors…The President will let his top people talk to Congress behind closed doors, off the record and not under oath… hmmmm, either he is reaalllly stupid (I know) or his press guy needs to be hung right next to Husseins former VP… he is just yelling to the world, “I am covering something up!” Yup. No Shit! Idiots I tell you… and we as Americans put him there (not me personally), but as a whole we are responsible for letting people vote this smuck into office. Yikes. But then again, if the future of our country is in the youth… well… they are just as stupid for letting Sanjaya stay on American Idol another week!!! My God! We now have to see that scrawny, not so pretty, boi shout out another song next week!! I am thinking about calling for a boycott or a recount or something. This is fucking rediculous. The kid cannot sing. Someone mentioned today that Howard Stern was telling his listeners to call and vote for this kid. Please Stop! Some little girl in the audience, maybe 11 years old, was in tears over Sanjaya while he was singing… and she is what causing him to win each week… little teenage girls who have not even had a period yet and are sitting up in their own queen size bed watching a flat screen television with their cell phone in one hand and lap top under the other, texting and voting away for this horrible horrible horrible singer… Tonight, a very good female singer was voted off and apparrently, Sanjaya was not even in the bottom two… SOOOOOO WRONG!! So let me say it now… parents, for the two hours following the show next week, if you have a teenage girl (or teenage boi like the one on Ugly Betty)… take away their phones and disconnect the internet… maybe, just maybe we will get Sanjaya voted off…whew!
I was going to go off on male students sleeping with female teachers, but let face it. Boys will always (for the most part) want to sleep with their hot teachers. Boys are more sexual than girls. Boys do not turn down the chance for a piece of anything at that age. Girls get crushes. Girls want to save themselves. Girls would completely freak if they saw a penis. Girls could care less about sex at that age. Now think about it. Age these boys and girls 40 years. The men like looking at the hot teachers on TV. Men are not as sexual as women (enter Viagra). Men do not turn down the TV for anything at that age. Women get crushes. Women want to show their power through sex. They want the sex more than Catholic Priests. It is total opposite. So why shouldn’t the older female teacher be able to take a nice little teenage prick when he is willing to give it up. I mean, what is causing more heartache on these teenage boys… the fact that they had sex with the teacher (which he is getting high fived for) or the fact that his parents found out and are upset their kid is having sex period. Then they find out it is with a teacher and have to drag it into the media. Kill the teachers reputation. She looses her job. Goes to jail (most likely). The poor boy now has to go through life knowing that because his mommy and daddy found out he slayed a piece of older ass, he is the reason this woman is never ever going to be able to teach again (which she probably dropped a good amount of time and money to be able to do)… and she will be working some check out lane somewhere well into her 70’s and then become a burden on the tax payers because she will never have the opportunity to do anything with her career aftern the public humility and jail time. I think that having that on your shoulders as you grow up to be a man is a lot worse than going off to college and being able to tell your fraternity brothers that you were able to nail a real school teacher while you were still in school. He would get a lot more respect and a lot less of a mental fuck from the whole situation. Just think about it. I know the teacher could have said no, I can’t… but we know when hormones flow, they flow. I will admit, not all cases are like this, but more are than the reverse, where a male teacher forces female students to have sex and then uses their ‘male power’ to mind fuck them into not coming forward until years later. I admit for a girl sex is a lot different and in some ways they are immature when it comes to sex and love. They, I believe, are more likely to fall in “love” at a young age, while boys tend to just go with the flow. When the girl is subdued by a male teacher or any older male for that fact, they are more likely to be lied to and then fall for the older man as he hopes to score more from a young girl. She is then heartbroken when she realizes she is not the ONE for him. I could go on and on and I am sure this fight will go on and on in the courts… so I will digress. I will go blog-hop for a bit then go snuggle with my man in bed…. and I will leave you with this…. Happy HNT!!!


Just me tonite in the hot tub after gym and dinner…
Roll Call:
Weigh-in: 217.6
Richmond Murders: 5

My Dad Part 2 -- It's a Great Day

"Mommie told me in her letter today that you cryed because daddy was gone. Son that makes daddy sad & yet happy to know that you miss me, because I also miss you very much. I even got a few tears in my eyes when I read it. Anyway I do love you." (See pic at left.)

My dad had two heart attacks in his early 50s. So, when his unexplainable crying and laughing started, we thought it was unusual…but attributed it to something with his health and heart. I remember one night as we all were watching some funny movie as a family and he started crying. He couldn't explain it and we all looked at him like he was crazy. There were two things that happened to his physical body that made us know that something was up: Uncontrolled fasciculations (muscle twitching) and loss of muscle (like the little muscle that is in your hand between your thumb and first finger….his disappeared). Doctors tried for more than a year to try and figure out what was happening. Test after test. Go see this doctor, go see that one. It was in the summertime when my mom called me from the VA Hospital in Portland. “It’s not good news,” she said. After one final test where they stick needles in every single one of your nerves, they all came out “negative”….there was no nerve activity in any of the places they tested. “He has a motor neuron disease,” or Lou Gehrig’s Disease. Now, I don’t know if you’ve known anyone with LGD or not; but I don’t think, in fact I know, that we had no idea what horrible, wild times were yet to come. It is a disease that destroys all muscles in your body. But your mind stays intact. His arms became nothing but the skinniest pieces of flesh you’ve ever seen. The muscles in his neck…the ones that you use to hold up your head….disappeared. His head rested as low as it could, all fallen over to the side. He couldn’t hold his head up. And his tongue (don’t forget, it’s a muscle too) stopped working. He couldn’t speak the last nine months or so and he couldn’t eat the last few months either. It took him, literally, hours to force a bowl of applesauce down. And it was always done with choking, spitting up, and gagging. He would get the most scared look deep in his eyes. And we all stood around, trying not to stare, as he gagged and couldn’t breathe….day after day. We finally had to get a suction device to get the food and excess saliva out of his throat. I spent many an hour, as did my mom, holding his head up with my left hand while I ran the suction tube down his throat….trying to help him….desperate in our attempts to make him comfortable. One day, I watched him struggle to use his electric razor. I asked him if I could help him and he nodded “yes.” So, just like the suction device, I held his head up with one hand and ran the razor across his sagging, gray face with the other. This became an afternoon ritual….I would come home from work and the razor would be waiting. He would hold it up to me, smile, and I would kneel down next to his chair until he said to stop. Sometimes, many times in fact, it’s the smallest of gestures that bring the greatest rewards.

And I’ll never forget the first time that he was not able to speak to me on the telephone. I was traveling the summer of 1993.….in New Jersey that particular day…..at a Ramada Inn just outside of New York City. I had finished an evening concert on the 4th of July, his birthday. I called home that humid evening from my hotel room. Everyone in Idaho was having a picnic as we always did for his birthday. I knew that there would be cake, home made ice cream, balloons….the whole lot. But this night, my mom said, “Your dad isn’t able to speak any longer.” It had been coming on for a while now. It had begun with him sounding like he was drunk….slurring his speech. In fact, a customer of his had mistakenly thought that he had been drunk in the grocery store where he worked. And she had reported him to the store management saying that “You’ve got a drunk man working in the meat department.” So, he retired. To this day, I try not to cast judgment at situations I know little about. So, back to my phone call from New Jersey: My mom held the phone to his ear and told me to start talking. And I did. I told him how much I loved him and what a good time I was having on my concert tour. I told him that I missed him. And, of course, I said “Happy Birthday.” All I could hear was his grunting….trying his best to formulate a word or two. But, it didn’t happen….ever again. From then on, he wrote everything down. And I still have those journals today. All of his day-to-day conversations. I cried and cried that night….as I am today as I write. It was one of the most horrible nights of my life. I would never hear his voice again. Except in the recesses of my heart and mind.

My dad took my brother and I fishing several times in the last year or so. We would pile in the Jeep and leave town early, stopping for breakfast an old dirty diner alongside the freeway. After breakfast, we continued on, north of Weiser, Idaho, along the Snake River to his favorite spot. I hated fishing. But it didn’t really matter. The Union Pacific trains would roar by us at more than 70 MPH as we sat along the river, lines in the water, waiting. I remember my dad slipping and falling as he made his way down to the river -- his legs and arms had begun to lose their tone and strength. Stumbling became a normal part of daily life. So, here we sat. Me watching while my bother and dad fished. The ugliest catfish you’ve ever seen coming up out of that river hooked on the end of the line. My dad would unhook them and hold them up for the whole world to see and a smile from ear to ear on his face. He was totally content. The day was complete. The rain began and we piled back into the Jeep and drove down the dirt road a ways. No boats today. Too cold and windy. We sat there in the rain, running the Jeep to keep the heater going. To this day, one of my most favorite of life’s moments was about to happen, and I didn’t even know it. You know, they can come out of anywhere. At moments of least expectancy. Dad reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out two identical light blue envelopes. One with my brother’s name on it and one with mine. They were identical cards….and they were birthday cards. Neither one of our birthdays were close. Dad had crossed off all of the birthday references and had hand written in “great day.” The card went like this:

“Love on your great day and always. Though you’ve always known we’re interested in everything you do, maybe you don’t realize, Son, how proud we are of you. So, this seems like a fine chance to combine a little praise with these loving great day wishes for the happiest of days.”

And then, in his own handwriting, he had written: “This is just for you because you are such a great Son and you mean so much to me. I love you. Your Dad.” He had enclosed $200 in each of our cards. We left the river that day with tears in our eyes and “great day” cards in our pockets. I still have mine. You'll see it in the picture below. And, you know what, my dad was right. It was a great day. By Lewis

My Dad Part 1 -- Impact of Childhood Lessons

My father always took care of our family and its needs. He was caring, kind, and worked very hard all of his life as a meat cutter. His education ended at the 8th grade. He took us camping nearly every weekend all summer long. We had nothing fancy like a trailer. But we had a huge old sheepherder’s tent. We spent many a summer night in that tent. I remember the last thing at night as he would make sure we were all tucked in our sleeping bags and then he would blow out the lantern. The flame would linger momentarily in the mantle and then, pop….it would be gone. Dark and just the sound of the water in the river. I also remember waking up in the cold mornings to the smell of coffee in the old beat-up coffee pot on the camp stove and my parents getting ready to fix us breakfast.

On some Saturdays, I would go to work with him at the grocery store and help out in the meat department (it’s no wonder I’m nearly a vegetarian today). I would stand on an upside-down milk crate so I was tall enough to wrap the packages of meat. I stocked the meat counter, put the price labels on each package, and took great care to make the coffee in the break room just right for the store employees. The more I think about it, not much has changed. He thought the world of me and was so proud when I was with him. I’ll never, ever, forget his smile….ear to ear….and consistent.

When I was close to 14, he said to me one day: “I’d like to take you to dinner. You pick the place and we’ll go.” He said later that he knew there was a problem when I got out the Idaho state road map and started looking….not in town, but for another city! I guess the travel bug had bitten me early in my life. I put my finger on a town I’d never been to: Twin Falls. And we went….just the two of us. A two-and-one-half hour drive from Boise. We had dinner at George K’s Chinese restaurant. I think it’s still there. On the way home, it was late and dark. He pulled the car over to the side of the freeway and said, “I think I’d like for you to drive us home tonight.” What? I don’t even have a license yet? But he knew that I’d already been sneaking in a drive or two when he and mom would leave the house. So, I drove 120 miles to Boise, in the dark, just he and I. You know, there are things that come and go in your life, or those that you’d just as soon forget. But this isn't one of them. I call those mile markers. Places to mark every long and happy mile of our lives.

I tell you, we had a ball growing up. I’ll never know for sure, but I think that my father wished, in some ways, that I was more “manly” and that I took a bigger interest in the things he was involved in. I remember helping him build a large shed behind our house -- roofing it, nailing what seemed like a thousand nails. It felt like a million bucks being with him and helping. He never gave me any indication that he questioned my sexual identity. But, that was the way he was with everyone. It just plain old didn't matter what you did or who you were. He was always your friend and would drop all he was doing to help you out. There were no limits or conditions attached. I can only hope that I’m half the man he was. Able to smile in any storm -- give of myself to help out anyone who needs it -- and have the energy and determination to make this life something special.

By Lewis

Dolphin making stunts :)

This is how dolphin is taught to make stunts, these shots are taken at Sentosa's Dolphin Lagoon :) For more shots of these Pink Dolphin, visit my blog at the label Pink Dolphin
















The trainer is calling the dolphin
















Indicating where the dolphin should jump
















And jump :) Isn't the dolphin cute?
















And splash...
















Now the trainer is giving the dolphin a small gift, a fish :) Yummy

Nothing Lasts Forever

Some of you may know, some may not, but I’m winding this blog down. There’s no drama. It’s just time to move on.

I started this blog, almost 3 years ago? Wow, but I started it primarily as a travel journal for my friends. Now my friends, the ones I intended this space for, rarely, if at all, read it. Funny. But I’ve met new people through it, and some of these people have become what I would consider friends. Everything moves forward.

It’s been a truly wonderful experience. Some odd experiences, like the guy in Brazil who asked if I could change my background to white and the text to black so he could print my blog and then sell it. Um, you’re not allowed to do that.

A Sasquatch, who sent me the most obscene self-portraits I’ve ever seen. (I had no idea you could stretch a sphincter muscle like that.) He threatened to kidnap and whisk me off into the Kootenay Mountains where I was to become a love-slave, whatever the hell that is.

But this idiot claimed to be an Internet whiz and, through my ISP, able to track down my home address. Sounded plausible enough to me. I was naïve. I told him his email constituted a physical threat to my wellbeing and I threatened to bring it to the attention of the authorities. I never heard from him again.

I guess, technically, this could be categorized in the not so good column.

But the good far outweighs the bad. For instance, I was, apparently, the focus of a cocktail party (in Pittsburg, of all places), where an entire party gathered around a computer and read, and, so they said, laughed hysterically, at the events of my life. I’d never heard of that before. “People were doubled-over laughing.” I was a party game, like twister or spin the bottle. They all must have been drunk. Stoned and very drunk.

A lot of stuff like that. Out of the blue. I could go on and on. Individually, you know who you are. Fans, I guess. Fans of me, which is hard for me to wrap my head around. And although I did crash into Sept 11th blissfully unaware that posting Falling Man wasn’t the most intelligent thing I’ve ever done, I accepted the consequences. I’ve made mistakes. Said some things I shouldn't. I accepted blame. Moved on. Felt sorry for those who could not. I learned a lot from the entire blog experience.

And I’ve done things through this blog I would have never done otherwise: I flew to Florida for a patty melt. I went to a blogger loft party in San Francisco. I had cannoli in little Italy in NYC. Cocktails with a non-blogging admirer, so cute, yet so young, legal, but young, in London, who compared me to literary giants. I got drunk on Yonge Street with a turnip. Ventured to an obscure suburb lake community for Christmas cocktails. “I said, ‘in these shoes? I don’t think so.’”

All I’m saying is that Jeboy747 has afforded me a lot. And I am grateful. Truly I am.

And the people. (I still have no idea where most of you come from.) And the compliments, well I’ll just say, my ego needs no stroking. People are so nice, so kind, to me. In some cases, it’s an instant rapport. And I have no idea why. Well, I think I do. I am, at my core, a nice person, though coated in toxic talented sarcastic waste. And I talk frankly. The way I see it.

So why end it? Rereading over this I ask myself the same question.

But I have to end it. I must. I need to move on to the next chapter and I can’t do it without closing this one. Jetboy747 has run its course. I’ve landed and deplaned. The cleaning crew will board soon and erase the previous journey. It is, after all, without me, an empty aircraft. But that’s just what they’re supposed to do, cleanse, because they’re preparing for another flight. Someone else’s journey.

And I need to unpack, repack, and decide where I’m going next.



Farwell. Jetboy747.

Russet Alarm for Poland

Dear Friends, Readers and Supporters,

I am really scare about my live and dignity in my country. GLBT community in Poland are in very serious problem now.
Our government want go back to middle ages law, and they want to retrieve penalization for homosexual people.
Vice minister of Education - Mr. Orzechowski call for changes in our criminal law. They want to put in prison homosexual people who will prepare any education information about homosexuality (like seminars, posters, brochures etc.). He has support from our Prime Minister and coalition parties. This idiotic proposition can be voted in our Parliament!
I don't have any possibilities, then calling for Russet Alarm. We are in real danger.
Please, help us. Call your parliamentarians, speakers of the houses, senators, and ambassadors. Please help us stop this way to hell. Don't leave us alone, because we will have second III Reich in middle of European Union.
This history cannot stay alive again.

Your friend from Poland

Pop star shocks Mexico with gay admission

A 23-year-old pop star has become the first Mexican celebrity to publicly announce that he is gay. Christián Chávez, one of the six-member RBD group, came out after photos showing him purportedly getting married to another man in Canada in 2005 were published on a website. Topix.net

Well I have never heard of him or his music before but he can shock me anytime he wants haha! We need more like him 2 stand up and say hey I am here and I am queer and so proud I am getting married! Awesome Christian!

David

How was your afternoon? Was it sweet, passionate and lyrical? Neither was mine. Actually, mine was quite a waste. However, just by accident, I passed by this beautifully made movie by the gifted Mexican cineasta Roberto Fiesco Trejo. A man, I will keep an eye on.

If you wasted your afternoon too, these 15 minutes will be well spent:

David (2005)

Isn't these toys cute?

Saw this little men at Fort Siloso, Singapore, wanna know more about the place, feel free to drop by my blog and click on the Labels, Fort Siloso :)

Ewwwwww!

Forbidden Yucky Love!

At their home in Leipzig, Patrick Stuebing and Susan Karolewski are in the kitchen, playing with a young toddler.

They share a small flat in an east German tower block on the outskirts of the city. It looks like an ordinary family scene, but Patrick is Susan's brother and they are lovers.

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!

"Gay In" A protest...

I heard from some friends on myspace that some people I know are holding a "GAY IN" at a local watering hole where I currently live. I grew up here, this is my home so I can totally seeing this happening in this said establishment.

This is what went down...

A lesbian couple who I know, I am not really good friends with these girls but I love them and they are such a great couple. They are really the model grrrl couple.

They go into the said tavern, play some pool, played some music on the jukebox and began dancing. The owner of the bar replied "Get a room, you can not do that in here"
They replied..."Excuse me, would you say that to your "Str8" customers?"
Owner- "Yes, I would say the same thing"

Ok, for one I know this "owner" we are speaking of and I can totally see her saying this to them. This woman really has no people skills and I dont even know why she even owns a bar in the first place. Whenever you walk in this place she acts like she is always on edge and not very friendly to the "Younger crowd" of patrons. Its just not a very friendly atmosphere so I dont really go there and if we do it is always someone else's idea and we stay for one.

So tonight they are staging a "Gay-in" and every gay person in this town will be attending to give this woman a taste of some REAL gayness. Wow, this is going to be a trip, I really just wanna go and see her reaction...CLASSIC! I think I need to at least make an appearance.

Wouldn't you?

And The Walls Came Tumblin' Down

I am such an asshole. Okay, that seemed rather harsh. But what would you call someone who brain-farted their mother's birthday?

No, I didn't forget her big day...I just wrote it down wrong. I know it's March 7th, but for some reason I put a 1 in front of the 7 when I wrote it down on a sticky note.

Stupid...stupid...stupid!!!

So here I've been planning something really cool for her for the 17th, and try my best to be her favorite middle child, I knew I was going to score some huge Princess Points this year.

Wrong-o!!

I just happened to be talking to her Wednesday about when she, my brother Terry, my sister Tracie and Terry's wife Theresa (who also happens to be my BFF) are all coming up for a visit in May. I've been looking forward to this visit, as it's going to be the very first time any of my relatives has come to Kansas City. Usually I go down to California to visit them.

Somewhere during the conversation, her birthday came up.

Mom: "Oh you got the pictures, I'm so glad!!"
Me: ..."Yeah, thanks. I love the way your yard turned out."
Mom: "Did you see what John got me for my birthday?"
Me: ..."Yes I did. I don't remember seeing that there last year, though."
Mom: "He gave it to me this year."
Me: ..."Oh, an early birthday present?"
Mom: "My birthday was tooo-DAY!!!"
Me: ..."Um...yeah, well...I, um, knew that...STEEEEEEEVE!!!"
Steve: (said loudly enough for my mother to hear over the phone...) "I've never forgotten MY mother's birthday."
Mom: "I love you, Steve."

Ouch!!

I felt so stupid and ashamed. Not even reminding her that I had the date written on a Post-It and it was placed prominently on my sticky note wall seemed to make her feel any merrier. (see the big red arrow? that's the sticky note) Though, it didn't help much that Steve felt compelled to tell her (we had her on speaker phone...talk about adding insult to injury) that her Post-It was buried under dozens of layers of other sticky note reminders I have there.

Me: ...."See? It's right there in plain sight!!"
Steve: "All you can see is 'Mom Bi'!!"
Mom: "Whaaaat???????"

I must have really done something to annoy Steve earlier that day...I mean for him to be such a fucking help. :grin:

After a minute or two trying to calm Mom down and letting her know that I most certainly do NOT think she's bisexual, the conversation mercifully turned back to my writing down the wrong date for her birthday.

Sidebar: Did you notice the date next to the dark pink Post-It towards bottom left? Yes, it actually says August 2004. I knew I had a calendar in my office somewhere!!

So to stress my point, I began trying to unbury the obviously wicked little sticky note reminder.

BIG MISTAKE!!!!!!!

It was then that my ADD and any other mental issues kicked in to overdrive. And it ain't pretty when that happens.

As I'm trying to gingerly expose the Post-It in question, layer upon layer of reminder sticky's came raining down. It was nightmarish!! It suddenly occurred to me that my entire brain was stuck up there in the form of one hand-written reminder after another.

Down they rained. A shower of pink, marigold, fuschia, teal, turquoise, lined, unlined, flower bordered and puppy dog. Each with one of my memories. Telephone numbers (that for some reason I also keep on my PC rolodex), Post Topics/Ideas, Blog topics, Book ideas, etc. Now all laying in a multi-colored puddle of mental chaos.

I was torn. Do I allow the OCD kick in and try to put it all back in it's particular order and layers? Or do I get back to Mom?

Suffice it to say, I got back to Mom. I wished her a VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, and promised her there would be one gigantic suck-up present waiting here for her when she arrives in May.

She forgave me. And then told me to do something about my sticky note fetish.

I was touched by this...

I know you will have lots of opinions to express after watching this, so let it flow...share it out. Stop the hate...

It all takes work no matter what your obsession is...

I've come to accept he fact that I'll never have an amazing body, no one will drool at the thought of licking whipped cream off my abs. I just don't have the drive or the determination to hit the gym or go jogging or hell even diet. I love food way too much to diet, I'm not one of those "I'm not eating carbs this year" faggots. It's fine if you are I just can't count calories or worry how many carbs is in this dinner. I like food and I don't care if you use real cream or butter for that matter, deep fry everything then cover it in gravy. I sometimes get these ideas in my head that I'll work out and try to get in shape but that thought lasts until my next craving for Mcdonalds. I think gay men worry too much about their looks, it's one thing to be in good shape but to force yourself to go to the gym 5 times a week even though you hate it is just crazy. But then again I guess we all obsess about different things, take me for example. I just took a look through my bathroom and noticed I've got 2 different types of facial masks, 2 exfoliants, 1 cleanser, 1 toner and 7 different moisturizers. The weirdest part of all is I use them all on a fairly regular basis. So is my obsession with face products any different from someone else's obsession with going to the gym? I guess it really isn't that different, although in my defense I have problem skin and I need to take extra care or else I look like a high school kid with bad acne. Well that and it all smells so nice lol and makes my skin feel soft. I guess in one way or another we all have our insecurities and if it takes going to the gym 5 days a week or using every facial product out there to give you that extra boost you need to go out and face the world then who am I to judge. I think as long as we know about this problem and don't let it get out of hand then it's ok. Besides who am I really hurting by making sure my pours are clean and my skin is soft? No one at all. Just like those hot little gym boys aren't hurting anyone by having those wonderful abs I love to lick any chance I get. Ok boys here's the deal you bring the abs I'll bring the whipped cream and we'll let my tongue do all the work. After all those hours in the gym I doubt you'll complain about having to just sit back and relax and enjoy. I know I won't.....

Cherry Blossom Festival

Japan set early for Cherry Blossom Festival by a week. Well last year it is already early by a week and this year by another week. Guess the time bomb that human created is ticking real fast here. Wondering what am I talking about here? Well what I am talking about is the green house effects that we, the humans, have created.

In the news today, "Climate change as dangerous as war" and this is a statement by U.N. Chief Ban, and it is pretty true indeed. Just look at the earthquake that happens 2 days back, it is one of the worse case, and from the ice-berg that melts in the north and south pole, this world will be flooded. How long can this world stands?

Random shots

Hey guys out there, can you imagine yourself wearing this? With the wordings in the middle of it?
















And they are from Hush Puppies, guess they have a bad taste after all. Now I am wondering how much sales do they make from this?
















2 cute kids playing in the MRT, aren't the boy on the left cute?
















Sculpture of Red Indian found in Batam Island, Indonesia

















A weird position of sleeping in MRT

r*yan's sydney mardi gras adventure

hey guys, thought i'd share with y'all my awesome weekend spent in sydney for my first ever gay and lesbian mardi gras experience.

this year's event broke all records with more than half-a-million people present for the parade and more than eight thousand participating.

below is my second and final account of the day. head over to mine for more stories and pictures.

happy mardi gras!

* * *


the morning after the nite before:
still wearing the same clothes

"cheer up, babe. it's mardi gras!"

the canadian chick i had been speaking with smiled at me warmly. i smiled right back.

i wasn't upset. just a little tired.

it was already seven o'clock in the evening and the parade was due to start in fourty-five minutes. we've been standing at the same spot on flinders street for almost an hour, having walked almost six blocks from hyde park. a local mentioned that it was the best place to view the parade. it seemed everyone had been told the same thing. we were three-people deep from the barrier. thank goodness the japanese tourists in front of us were short.

it had already been quite a day.

after the pre-parade shenanigans of the nite before, yours truly was up early, traipsing through the city and visiting circular quay at the behest of friend dup for a spot of sight-seeing. at least, i managed earlier to put in a couple of hours in the hotel's pool and spa for a little rest and recovery.

now, the boys - rj, aaron, shaun, dave, and dup - and i were surrounded by people ready to party. we were part of the thousands lined up along the streets, waiting patiently and happily, whilst being entertained by the mardi gras marshalls tasked to get the crowd geared up. there were a kaleidoscope of people. the homosexualists who were there to celebrate their "christmas", the friends and family members who came out to support, as well as the assorted other individuals who turned up en masse to soak in the biggest gay and lesbian party event in the world.

there were people dressed up and there were those hardly dressed at all. there were people in fancy costumes, some in their undies, others in leather, those in drag and a few with fairy and angel wings. there were plenty of different accents and different skin colour, and every so often you can hear people ask one another where they were from. those not local were mostly from interstate, whilst some were from as far as canada, greece and india. by coincidence, the group we ended up with - apart from the japanese - were all from melbourne.

when the parade began, opened traditionally by the dykes on bikes, the atmosphere turned electric. everyone seemed to be screaming their lungs out, whooping up the girls as they revved their loud machines. the mood was set for a fabulous evening.

the floats and marches were as eclectic as those who were watching. they carried messages of acceptance, bravado, religious and political views, and plain party attitude.

of course, there were plenty of the ones filled with glitz and glam, full of sparkle, colour, light shows, and barely-clothed gorgeous individuals sasha-ing to pumping music. the kylie float was a standout example with more than 250 volunteers - kylie drags, marching bois and even acrobatic performers - dancing to her many hits. not to be outdone, there was also the trojan horse display being pulled along by grecian-looking gods with bodies to match and the group of beautiful towel-clad spunks celebrating all things great about gay sauna.

in contrast, there were the simple floats that carried very strong, poignant, touching messages. a group of marchers under the "happy feet, happy families" banner proudly displayed gay men and women with their kids in tow, some pushing their children in strollers, others carrying their little ones on their shoulders. no costumes or sequins or loud music, just a group of gay individuals with their happy families.

and for the first time in the history of the parade, a small contingent of filipinos marched. the "filipino-australian gay society" represented gay pinoys dressed in fantastic costumes, some in the native maria clara outfits, others simply draped in the philippine flag. i had turned down an invitation by the organiser, jase, melbourne blogger and friend, to get involved, and felt a tinge of regret as soon as i saw this year's float. i promise, next year i'll be the first to sign up.

the rest of the evening went by in a hazy blur. i saw blogger friends not so single guy and dating guy march behind the amnesty float; i got wet by water gun-weilding sexy water polo marchers; i was kissed by a parade marshall; and our group was filmed by the abc news camera.

when the whole spectacle was finally over - two plus hours later - everyone made their way to their respective after-parade party destinations. the bois and i decided to head back to midnight shift for another nite of debaucherous fun. there, i met other melbourne scene buddies, which made the nite's partying even better. we danced, hugged and kissed friends and strangers alike. everyone in our group were in the mood to party and everyone were super affectionate. the look on the other patron's faces said it all; they were decidedly surprised and suitably impressed!

several hours later, when the no-doze caffeine pills had worn off, we made our way back to the hotel. i walked the six blocks in my socks, holding on to my shoes. my feet were absolutely screaming from the punishing physical endurance of the evening's partying.

but boy, was it worth it! for a cherry-popping experience, my first mardi gras had been most pleasant, truly exciting and utterly memorable.

can't wait to do it all again next year.

Well I'll Be! You Done Put Some South In Yo' Mouth Missus Hillary

Awkward. Peculiar. Affected. Hillary.

Let's hope she plays it "straight" if she speaks to the HRC...

What's in a Word

Last night was quite time for me and Mikey we had a wild weekend and he is gonna post about that sometime this week on our main blog. So we just wanted some down time and some alone time 2 talk so since we will be going back 2 Atlanta soon we decided to talk a walk on the beach and stop and get some ice cream no harm in that right? So we stop at the ice cream parlor grab a cone and walk across the street 2 the beach and were walking eating our cone and not really talking. I'm not sure how far down the beach we walked but turn around and was walking back talking about what happy over the weekend and I knew things were strained from the weekend but I wanted 2 show him I am still here and still love him so I reach out took his hand in mine and we walked along the beach hand in hand. Nothing wrong with that right when out of no where I heard someone say you fucking fags you make me sick! Course Mikey yells back and I am trying to get him into the truck b4 something goes down. This brings me to what I am writing about this guy calling us fags was meant in hate and I know that but do you remember the first time someone used fag, queer, sissy boy, homo, cocksucker any other word like that in hate toward you? I remember the first time I was called a fag it was first grade when this boy called me a fag a mommies boy I remember at the time I didn't know what fag meant but I knew it hurt. Tell your story if you have one.

I ask you what can be wrong with 2 guys in love showing how they feel toward each other? It's ok for the str8 people to show there love in public but I can't! Love 2 hear about your first hate words and your thoughts.

The lost city

Guess what do I found out at The Lost City at Sentosa, a weird discovery. Really the lost city which all the beautiful sculpture there have cards on them. Check them out...















This is how they look like from far, and do you see the white thing on the faces?




















Zooming in, hmm this is how the face looked like... still not getting the white stuff right? Zooming in...

















It is a CARD? *Puzzled*

Ann Coulter - Giving Transexuals Everywhere A Bad Name

This is a "co-post" from both Daniel (The Tempest) and Steve (Revel):

From The Tempest...

Okay...is there ANYONE out there who thinks Ann Coulter doesn't deserve a good old fashioned public caning??

In yet another public showing of that compassionate conservative love thy neighbor moral high ground, Coulter has, yet again, taken her head out of her ass long enough to stick her foot in her mouth.

Her constant show of hatred and bigotry seem to know no bounds. And she's done it again. At the annual Conservative Political Action Committee (C-PAC), this vile and disturbing bigot once again decided to reach into her "fag-bag" and call Democratic Presidential candidate John Edwards a "faggot". This then drew "Ooohs", "Aaahs" and then applause from the audience.

The big question now looming over the GOP is, will the Republican candidates for prestident denounce Coulter's ugly slur of Edwards? I think we all know the answer. They will do everything they possibly can to dance around and away from this issue. They will, at least for the next week or so, be pelted by this question from the news media at every opportunity...and will have, at best, "No comment."

___

...

See the 34 second video here:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uxgVuB3TyaU]

From Steve...

Ann,

I have now seen the blurb on You-Tube of you addressing C-PAC, and obviously receptive crowd to your particular brand of rhetorical ballyhoo. That the crowd was receptive to you is not surprising, being who they are. That you chose to use a hateful epithet for homosexuals is not surprising either, it seems to be your default setting when talking about ANYONE progressive. And as ludicrous as that use was, I will also not dignify it with any more time or attention than it has already received. As I am writing this, I am sure my partner is addressing it with aplomb and finesse. Two words to which you are a total stranger.

What I will tell you, Ann, is something that at least in public you are not considering, and which is important to you personally. You see, society WILL progress. We as people are evolving every day. Do you ever read Deepak Chopra? Likely not, as you probably consider him one of the same type as John Edwards. (Is anyone with any vision an anathema to you?) He makes a wonderful point in "Life After Death" which says, and I am paraphrasing if he will forgive me, that we are not the same people we were five years ago, one month ago, or even yesterday. Each and every person who has any kind of vitality at all is a growing and changing entity, learning from their experiences and from the experiences of those around them. It is an necessary part of growing as a person.

But if you shut yourself off from those things, much like a plant shut off from light, water, and food, you cease to grow. You wither, and die prematurely. This is what resisting personal growth will do. No one can force any organism to take sustenance, but if it doesn't, it is doomed.

You're doomed Ann, and those who absorb your hate-speech are as well. Because society will grow and change and keep improving itself, even as you rail away spewing evil names and scratching and clawing to keep the status quo.
No one knows how fast it will happen, but there are enough of us intent on personal and societal growth that it will happen. And know this too--history will not look at you kindly, if at all. You're fairly young now, but you won't always be. In ten, twenty, or thirty years, when we've further surpassed ignorant stagnation, you'll become a sad, sordid reminder of that bygone ignorance.

If you insist on staying as you are, make sure you have plenty of your own history around you too keep you company. As the walls close in, maybe that will make your impending irrelevance that much easier to swallow.

My Collision With the Easy Bake Oven

My younger sister and a friend of hers are visiting us for a few days from the throws of southern Idaho. Last night before we indulged ourselves heavily in some of the best Cuban food ever at Pambiche, we were reminiscing about growing up, when I first knew I liked boys (some things never change), and other nutty childhood memories. I reminded her of the Christmas that I took her out to the proverbial hiding spot for all of our presents. I always knew right where they were and never passed up an opportunity take a peek (or six). I found the box with her Easy Bake Oven in it. I think that was one of the earliest points where I knew there was something amiss with me.....I was more fired up than she was about that oven! With my young brown eyes all glazed over with glee and dilating like a snake coming into the daylight, I said "There it is!" I could hardly wait for Christmas morning. Soon as the wrapping paper was dutifully shredded and tossed from one end of the room to the other, we had that thing out of the box and fired her up. Complete with the included 75 watt bulb. Whoo whee! We're cooking now! It came with a couple of little boxes of cookie or cake mix which cooked okay. But for some reason, my creative and twisted (young gay Idaho) mind went to work thinking of how we could kick it up a notch (I was doing it a long time before Emeril was). I dug through the refrigerator and found a pack of Hormel bacon and snuck it back down the hallway to the bedroom where the oven was. We slapped a few pieces of the bacon into the oven and turned it on. And waited...and waited...and waited. Hum. What's wrong? Three and one-half hours later, sis and me staring and staring and staring, with the bacon barely glistening from just being semi heated up, it still lay there....wobbly, flimsy pig fat doing it's best to perform (we've all been there, haven't we??). I still claim to be more into the art of cooking...not the science (science requires education). 75 watts never was going to cut it. I think that someone should have been able to easily identify my SI at that point. They were probably too busy trying to figure out how to make me wear a hunter's vest and get a fishing pole or rifle to look good on me.
So now that you all are getting sassy and thinking you're more masculine that I ever was (you probably are), take this little masculinity test from Old Spice. My score was 58% which Old Spice calls "Atrocious." Can you imagine? Me being called atrocious on the masculinity scale. I can't either. But who knew some of that crap. If they'd had questions about which color pillows to put with which sofa fabric, or how to get a size 34 waist nicely into a pair of size 30 Abercrombie and Fitch jeans, I could have performed marvelously, not atrociously. You'll see what I mean.
SI = Sexual Orientation
Posted by LEWIS

The Art Of "I Misspoke"

Another day, another politician misspeaks.

Yesterday, not one but two candidates for President let "slip" that the deaths of Americans in Iraq were "wasted".

First, Senator Obama (D-IL) and then later Senator McCain (R-AZ). Both later corrected themselves by saying they misspoke and didn't mean to imply such a thing.

I don't buy this correction from either of them for one single second. And why are they thinking any of us should fall for such lame attempts at appeasing those who bitch about such statements.

There isn't a sane politician out there who doesn't think the lives lost, including American, Iraqi and all others, wasn't wasted due to the insane retaliatory war started by King George The Idiot!! Everyone know's it all boils down to the fact that thousands of human lives have been WASTED because the numbnuts currently squatting in the Whitehouse wanted a reason to go after Saddam for attempting to have Bush Sr. assassinated.

There are facts to face here about the lives lost because of Bush and , in a perfect world, George W. Bush would be tried for Crimes Against Humanity.

I am saddened by the loss or injury of each and every soldier and civilian in this fake "war". I also - and especially - remember seeing the videos of those poor victims of the televised beheadings. Those are video images that will stick with me forever.

I know what you're thinking..."Why on EARTH would you want to watch those videos??" I didn't want to watch them. I am not a fan of seeing such things..not even in the movies. But I forced myself to watch them.

This war rests not only on the shoulders of this administration, but on each and every American. We own it, thanks to Bush. And, in some ways, we also bear the blame for the needless deaths. Those who voted to re-elect Bush in 2004 even after the "Beheadings For Bush" tragedy...and those of us who didn't vote for him and didn't fight hard enough to unseat him.

So yes, I watched those horrible videos. To remind me of my shame. My appathy. My regrets. Bush is still in office, the killings continue and, as an aAmerican, I share in the guilt and shame of those two realities.

My question to McCain and Obama would be, "Why haven't either of you watched those videos...and if you have, how could you possibly retract your statements about the wasted lives in Iraq?" They were wasted!!!! Wasted by the very voters you are now trying to cozy up to!!


Every single day, soldiers die in Iraq. Civilians and contractors, too. From volunteers to State Officials...death has visited itself upon far too many. All because this country was too collectively closed-minded and stupid to put an end to all of this back in 2004 when we had the chance.

And we walk around daily muttering, "Im just one person. What difference could I make...hell, let those who live to be on a soapbox make all the waves. Better them than me."

That is your shame...your guilt...your regret.

Now the politicians running for whatever office are doing their part in making honesty a thing of the past. You just KNOW they truly feel this war and the lives lost in/due to it were, in fact, wasted. But now, because they are running for higher office, they feel the need to bury their sense of honesty, common sense and decency for the sake of snatching more votes from the radical religious zealots. Being radical, religious OR a zealot doesn't make you more American, patriotic OR electable.


I wouldn't vote for either of these two candidates...or any others who all but apologize for saying out loud what they truly believe in their hearts, and then claim to have misspokken just because some would try to politicize such a statement.

Don't be ashamed by saying what you know to be true, people. There is plenty of shame to be felt, and that's for the unspoken words.

Old Ferry Terminal Singapore

The Old Ferry Terminal, located at Sentosa, Singapore, will be demolished soon, and so me and my friends pay it a visit before it is gone. This place will be a casino soon, and this place used to be the busiest part of Sentosa, but now, there is only shits left there.

Previously there are many ferries and ships that connects to other places via this Old Ferry Terminal but now, all of them have either move to HarbourFront or Marina Bay. What a waste, you will know what I am talking about later after viewing the pictures taken below :)





















Star Cruise Virgo, as for this ship I am not sure if it was once here with the ferry terminal but now it is at the Harbourfront. It is the same place where we board the boat to Batam Island the other time.





















The Old Viewing Gallery, closed now...





















Look at how grand this place was...





















This will be the lift for the disables, great invention eh, but the sad thing about this is that, only one wheel chair can go in, and no other people can follow, maybe they wanted to limit those who wants to use this eh...





















Fountain Gardens, will be smashed off soon as well...





















And of all the sealed part of this building, this is what we found...Something Interesting is coming up in the year 2010





















Beautifully constructed place will just be demoished just like that....what a waste...





















The face of Merlion facing this Ferry Terminal

Do You Remember..........

Cousin Oliver: So do you remember when you first realized you were gay?

Mason: Sort of.....it was more like, I knew I was different. The label "Gay" was still a few years off.

I guess it was 3rd or 4th grade. This kid Scott that was in my class was always the kid that liked to cause trouble. I mean, he'd always be like "I know something that would be fun to do" kinda kid, that more times than not landed the rest of us in a whole heap of trouble. He was the one that suggested we see who had the biggest dick contest one day after lunch. So there were about six of us there in the bathroom, and we all whip out our penis's.......and sort of realize all at once that none of us really had a very big dick. I mean, we were only in 3rd grade. Unfortunately, it was at that moment that one of the guy teachers, Mr. Mayo, walked into the bathroom and caught us. He was pretty cool, said that things like what we were doing needed to be done at home, and not at school. And then sent us back to the cafeteria.

Cousin Oliver: Wow.....that was pretty cool of him. I mean, not to make a big deal about it or anything.

Mason: Yeah I know. But it was after that incident, that I really started thinking about stuff. Like, how cool it was to see the other guys dicks, and stuff like that. And I was wondering, if they were thinking the same thing.

So like a month or so goes by. And every time I see one of these guys, which was several times a day, I would think back and remember what their dick looked like and it would drive me a little crazy. Cause I am thinking to myself, I can't be the only one that wants to have another peek at the other guys, but the other guys weren't saying or doing anything. It was driving me nuts.

So then one day, Scott comes to school, and announces that he brought something from home we would all want to see at lunch time. Something that he had taken from his older brothers room. I couldn't even begin to guess what it was. None of us could. I couldn't concentrate all morning......it was eating me alive to know what this big secret thing was that Scott brought from home. So lunch time finally comes, and one by one the six of us sneak off to the boys bathroom. We are all standing there, and Scott pulls out from under his shirt, a magazine. And he says, "Wait until you guys see whats in here". We all crowd around him and he opens up the magazine.



Mason: There was like these collective "oh's" and "ah's" and a lot of "wow's" from everyone. But has Scott kept turning the pages, and picture after picture of naked boobs and twidgets kept appearing in various shapes and sizes and poses......I became more and more weirded out. I looked around at the five other guys, my friends, and watched how each one of them had these lusty little smiles on their faces. And they were laughing and joking and pointing at the pictures and joking around some more. And all I felt was weird. Obviously, they enjoyed looking at pictures of naked ladies. I didn't get it. I didn't understand what the big deal was about touching some girls "hairy pussy". Or why the bigger a girls boobs were, the better. And as I continued listening and watching my friends.......I wanted this to stop.

I took a step or two back while they continued to paw over the pages of their nudie magazine. My friends didn't even realize I was no longer part of the group. They just crowded closer together and kept flipping the pages. I continued to take steps backward, and when my ass bumped into the sink, it was that exact moment that I realized that I was different from the rest of the guys. And for the longest time, I felt there was something wrong with me for not being interested in girls. And I tried to be interested.....I dated girls in High School, but all while I was doing that.....fighting the inevitable, I guess you could say, I knew the truth. And it ate away at me until I finally broke down and admitted to myself that I was queer.

Cousin Oliver: Wow.

Mason: Yep. But now I am totally comfortable with who I am. Which explains why I am willing to wear this public:



Mason: And I am happy, and no longer weirded out. Unless I see a picture of some girls hairy twidget. Bleah!!

Long time... fresh news

"O Happy Day"... this song is so close to me today. I received very good news. My friend send me first project of layout of my book. It's looks great, but we will work on in a few more days. I received one more good news too. Wonderful girl, who made redaction of polish version of my book give me contact to her friend who has printer agency. Her friend send me a very good offer for print. Everything looks so great, and I can start planning a premiere party for polish versions of the book.
We are working on English version too. Full translation is almost finished, and my friend starts redaction work. We will be ready to send it to printer agency soon. The same works with German and French versions.
Now you can order my DVD "My Way To Dreams" and pre-order "Rainbow Humming Bird on the Book" in special collection prize. Just visit our website! LGBT PRESS.EU