Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Stupid Stupid Stupid

The year after high school, with all the drama that ensued, I didn't immediately go to school. I started working full time at Best Buy but my financial habits, partying habits, and just plain irresponsibility didn't really let me be comfortable, financially. I was still living with my mother and was making friends that were living on their own and having the kind of lifestyle I wanted. Never mind my future. I needed money...NOW.

SO I decided to get a second job and I applied at Express. I was a regular shopper at Express, I knew how to dress, and I figured I would be good there. It was a quick interview process, my supervisor at the time at Best Buy gave me a good reference and I was clearly fashionable. Got the job. Made up for the time I once applied at Buckle and interviewed in a Abercrombie shirt...I was SOOOOO stupid. ANYHOW...

I figured I'd work my 5 days at Best Buy and on my 2 off days, Tuesday and Thursday, I'd work at Express. Figured, I didn't do anything on my off days really so I wouldn't mind.

Started off like any other job, slow boring orientation, anticipating some live action. Discount was...eh. Ok. 50% off the first $300 purchase and then 20% after that til 6 months when it was raised to 30%. I worked only the men's side and at night. I'd go in at 7pm, we closed at 9pm and from there...it was one of Dante's 9 levels of hell.


For some reason, they always had me working the men's side by myself. It was relatively smaller than the women's side but still...it was a lot. Between all the shirts, and shirts to fold and then pants to hang and just stuff everywhere having to be perfect before we could all leave. It was ROUGH. We never really got out before 3am. And never was I really offered help but I wasn't even about to look at the women's side to see what everyone else was doing. But that wasn't the worse part...

The clothes.

I'm talking about the clothes that were there for you to buy...which were the same as the ones that I had to clean up and fix but during that 2 hour window I usually had where I didn't have to focus on straighting...I was shopping. SURE, I'd help customers out and what not...but boy...was I looking at what I could look cute in. And not only that, but back then I had a thing for graphic tees, and oh, boy, were Express' SOOOOOO NICE. And they just kept getting new ones every week. Oh and I love ties, I had to have them all! Even if they were $50 each, I NEEDED THEM!

I opened a Express credit card, because, DUH, I was broke already and how could I afford the clothes I desperately needed?! Note, also, I only worked maybe 12-16 hrs a week there where I wasn't making all that much. I would buy. and buy. and buy. More and more stuff. It took about 2 months before I realized that not only did I spend WAY more at Express than I was making there, thus defeating the purpose of a second job, but I had also quickly racked up a good 2 Grand in clothing retail debt that I shouldn't have. Stupid Stupid Stupid.

So I quit...and it took me 2 years to correct that mistake. Luckily, Express makes timeless clothes, and I take care of my stuff...and I haven't really grown so I can still wear a lot of those clothes...

Moral of the story however, is gay fashionable boys shouldn't work in gay fashionable stores unless they got money...in which they wouldn't even be working in the first place?....I've confused myself....good day.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

On my Grind

I'm in one of my moods. I don't mean to sound all depressed but it might be amplified since I have a migraine as well.

I'm feeling majorly plateaued. Like I'm in a stand still in life and not really going down but definitely not going up. I'm proud of the achievements I've made in the past 2 years at bettering myself and I'm not blind to the fact that I can still achieve more but something just suckin fucks right now.

I've become more financial responsible but I'm definitely not comfortable yet. Not that anyone really is at my age unless they have amazing parents but I'm not where I want to be. I still want to be living on my own and have a car that's reliable and not feel so penny clinched.

I'm back in school but I have yet to start back at UH. I'm supposed to this fall semester but readmission is tedious between schools. I'm hoping I meet my deadline. And on that front, I feel like I've been on my grind so long, but when I look at my degree plan, it feels like I haven't even made a real dent. And then UH doesn't help with some classes I need to take only being offered once a semester when I still have my full-time job with a non-negotiable schedule.

Speaking of my job...I'm getting close to my 6 year mark. 6 years! At age 23. Best Buy has been great to me, but I'm feeling...baron. Like, I'm not going to go anywhere else. I'm not really interested in retail employment as a whole but I can't really get anything else with out my degree that has as great benefits. And I'm always forgetting my backbone of good job security. No telling how I'd stand without that.

I'm ok. I actually feel better letting it out. One day at a time is a long time but it'll pass. I have nothing really to complain about. Just gotta keep on my grind.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Fat Ass

Ok, so I'm mostly a health conscious boy. I like to watch what I eat and I exercise regularly. I'm no calorie counter and as much time as I spend in the gym, I'm no muscle head or gym rat (and no, not because I'm mostly walking around nekkid!) but I like to keep things healthy. Every now and then, I do "cheat" but I wouldn't call it cheating per se, since I'm on no real strict diet. Just sometimes, I like to binge and just get a nice bacon cheeseburger somewhere or whatever. Acceptable, right? For those of you that watch me eat and what I eat, you're weird but you would agree, it's ok for me to get something on the opposite of the health spectrum every now and then. That doesn't make me a fat ass. Nope. Not at all.

So why when I find a, let's say, larger than average weighted guy attractive am I the "chubby chaser"?

Let me break it down. I'm a small guy. Small framed that is. Don't get IT twisted. Sometimes, I like to "be" with a larger guy. It's just comforting and I won't get into too many details but it is what it is. No, I also wouldn't call myself a shallow guy. A cute face goes a long way in my shallowest point of view, so body type isn't number one most of the time. Second to only if you can speak and sometimes, that doesn't ever matter...because what I really want...is a nice. Fat. Ass.

OOOOOOh, Close your eyes and skip down if you are sensitive because I'm about to get into it. A boy with a nice ass will catch my eye sooooo fast, he could look as inbred, retarded, buck toothed, snot nosed as he wants. My logic states that if I get my way, that fugly face will be in a pillow, regardless of what it looks like or if the mutha fukka can even speak english. My goal is to make your teeth click so any syllable you can mutter will be close to some native African language and I'm all about movin' and groovin' to the sounds of my ancestors. The animal kingdom ain't got NOTHING on this wild dog. I can go into the specifics of the kind of fat ass I like but I do have a story to tell...just had to set it up that yes, I will do a fat boy, but I am NOT a chubby chaser...


A while ago I was "seeing" this one guy who was in fact a little chubby. Now, I've always had a little guy myself. Every since I can remember, I've had a gut. I remember in 1st grade I used to tell people I was pregnant and stick it out. Unless I go CRAZY with cardio and have NO fat in my diet, it's just gonna be there. One day, we were laying in bed and he reaches over and jiggles my chunk on my gut and says, "Oh, you need to work on that."

No. You. DID. JUST. NOT!!!!!

I cut him the most glaring eyes but he only added in the most serious tone and look like "What?!" Now, this was his apartment so for some reason, I was so reserved in my reaction because at the time I didn't want to be kicked out naked. Eh...I was young and stupid. But here's where he went wrong...he was CLEARLY ALL kinds of jigglier than I was. Damn there ocean didn't have as many ruffles and waves as he did when the groovin and movin was going down. He was the kind of that fat where I don't even remember seeing a penis. Wasn't important at the time. OK? The audacity. The Horror...The shame. Because I clearly didn't react as I would now. All loud and ignut, condescending to his fat ass. I only recall being quiet and just made some faces because I was still insecure about it. Now, I don't give a fuck, I'm healthy and active and I love me, ALL of me, so what the fuck eva.

Besides...after that I cut down on the fat boys. No way, I can be called a chaser. But boy...a fat ass....damn...

Tuesday, July 13, 2010


Sorry, for the break, I get off track really easily. I have so many things I want to blog about but a day at a time I will take it.

Have you ever really heard a song, and listened to it's lyrical contents and thought "Man, that's exactly how I feel?" If so, then you are a pre-teen girl because I'm pretty sure it was to a Taylor Swift song. But I never really have. Half the time, I don't even listen to the words, and if I'm "singing" it, I've only memorized the sounds of the words that are said and may never really say the right thing. In my dance class warm up, I used to sing "Firebomb" when the word was actually "Unstoppable"...just ignut...but one song I can say that I've listened to, understood the words and thought, "That's exactly how I feel." "Numb" by Linkin Park.

I'm pretty sure I can make this a long post, but I'll try to keep it short.

In "Numb," it talks about being repressed and made into something you are not. I took it very literally with my father and I. I was tired of being what he wanted me to be. I had to dress a certain way, walk a certain way and speak a certain way, just to please him. It was exhausting. Anything I did independently was never good enough. He had a vision of who he wanted me to be and I just wasn't it.

I remember one time, at a family reunion in Louisiana, we had a dinner to go to with the family. I had dressed in a nice polo shirt and some black slacks. It wasn't acceptable. He said we had to wear a tie. When we went to the dinner, no one was dressed formally. I, of course, said nothing in fear of being back handed for being "smart" as I have before. I was never allowed to cross my legs, and I was even criticized for my steps not being wide enough one time. I'd brush my hair down after school so I wouldn't come home with it to hear his mouth about curly hair being for men that thought they were pretty.

I could only put on the front for so long, and like in "Numb" everything fell apart in front of him. In one quick blow did he realize I was never going to be what he wanted me to be and how very tired I was of putting on that show. It was too much for me to handle. I never felt like I was not being myself in my life, I live my life, but it's just not worth it to take that time in front of him. "Every second I take is more than I can take."

He has this perfect high yellow family in his mind, and the way he fights with my step mother, I know things aren't good on that front. And with my out the picture, who knows. Because I am truly numb. I don't care for him, I don't miss him, I can't even say I hate him. I'm just numb and apathetic. I have my life and I'm living it and doing what I see as fit.

...he can fuck off...

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Some Guys Just Don't Get The Message...

Ok. Actual confession time. As any insecure person does to compensate for a particular insecurity, I act out. Living in Gay World, one will never really think they are attractive enough. See, it's drilled in our heads that the really built, white, blue-eyed porn star look is what we should want. THAT I'm not. So I guess in order for me to feel something good about myself, I do what I do.

I like to shower at the gym to show off, luckily, what's good I got going on.

I do my workout, sauna, then shower. Naturally, the gym locker is a haven for the creeps and cruisers trying to get a quick peak. I cater to such, call me what you will, tease, dirty, what ever, but as long as I'm not doing 'em, eh...I'm good. It's sad I know, but it puts a smile on my face, just thinking "Eh...I got something good that somebody wants."

But sometimes...the creepers can take it too far...

A couple of weeks ago, I gained a new admirer. He saw me in the locker room as I was putting my stuff up. He was undressing into a very gay swimsuit. (Not that I'm judging, go look at my current Facebook profile pic) But he kept looking and tried to make eye contact with me. I'm very fortunate at having a fantastic peripheral vision, thank you marching band, so I saw all his body queues to try to attract me. I then, totally by accident, turned my head his way and he asked me to take a picture of him...in his very gay swimsuit aka nekkid ass! He handed me his phone but almost immediately got real close to me to "show me how to work it". It was a rinky dinky ass HTC Hero from Sprint, how did I NOT know how to work it...but oh, he needed to get real close. Mmmhmm...he later "accidentally" walked into my shower stall. I gave him the evil eye and thought that was that.

Nope, the fucker was waiting for me in the lobby later on.

I quickly acted like I was on a distressing call on my phone. I'M the smarty here, bud. I saw him again every now and then but I'm sooooo good at ignoring and dodging. But the other day, we passed on the way to the sauna, he was leaving, I was entering. I continued to ignore but as we passed, he reached back and slapped my arm and said "Oh, so you can't speak?" ...


...is not what I said, but I did give a forced smile and kept walking...I mean really?!?!?! I don't talk to creepers and cruisers...honestly...you can look but don't touch or speak...GEEZ. The funny thing is that he actually has a nice body....face is ehhhhhhhhhhhhNo.

Some guys just don't get the message.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Keep it movin...

Today, my dear friend Patty offered me her car until mine gets fixed. Patty, I have known since before I can really remember and she is one of the kindest souls around. On my way home, late at night, I decided it was too late for me to fix something for dinner so I made the choice to add to my fat gut and go to McDonald’s for a couple grilled snack wraps (as to not feel TOO guilty). As I pulled up to the drive thru, there were 3 people standing around the intercom. They saw me pull up and as I slowed, they backed away and motioned for me to go ahead. This being this part of town, I was a little cautioned. One was an older woman, who appeared to not have many teeth, dressed in a purple dress suit, an older man carrying a cane who had some hip oversized shirt and a durag on and a young kid, maybe around the age of 15 with a t-shirt and jeans on. I pulled up and ordered my food when the woman came to my window and asked if I would order them some food since they didn’t have a car. I noticed she had some wadded up money in her arm. I was initially disturbed and scared but I looked in her eyes and saw that she wasn’t really looking to harm. I said how I thought the lobby was still open but she said it wasn’t. The person behind the intercom asked if that was all.

I said no.

I was given an act of kindness today, no way I wouldn’t try to pass it along, even as simple as ordering someone’s food for them. If this was to go a rye, then I rather die knowing I was trying to help someone who asked for it. The woman told me what they wanted and I ordered for them. She handed me the cash. I pulled up and payed. When I was at the window to pick up the food, they sat on the curb away from the building. The lady in the window looked disturbed and annoyed at the people, probably since they probably tried to order to her saying no. She gave me one big bag full of everyone’s food. I then asked if she could just give me another bag. She very blatantly rolled her eyes and said sure. I pulled up and over, separated the food, and handed it through my passenger side window. They were very gracious, but then the man asked if I was I headed up the street, implying asking if I could give them a ride.

Stop the brakes and HELL TO THE NAWL!

He quickly understood and I was on my way. Ok, so I know this late, this part of town, dangerous. But you got to take some risks sometimes. I’ve been on a mission to being nicer and I guess this was just a test. I’m not a religious person and I’m not too sure about karma. But I know if I was struggling and needed a little help, boy, would I want it. Wait…I was…today…no car…and see what happened…goodness is all around and I think we have to consciously keep it movin…

Sunday, July 4, 2010

...with his beeetch ass...

So yesterday, during all the drama with my hoopty, my friend, his girlfriend, and I decided to take a lunch break at the local Subway. Local being little Mexico we call Galena Park. Anywho, my friend, Andrew, had to use the bathroom so Caitlin, his girfriend, and I stood in line. In front of us, there was an older, portly gentleman who donned a rugged baseball hat, jeans, with his button-up non-dress shirt tucked in and a burned leather studded belt with the words “Wild Bill” on the back. Now, Caitlin as pretty as she is, is a nice busty, blonde with blue eyes. Eye catching to all, but today, this gentleman was not impressed. He took one look at us and exaggerattedly rolled his eyes and made a very audible sigh of disgust.


Now we all know I talk a lot of game so naturally I ain’t do nothing but STILL. Caitlin and I both WTF’d at the moment and just thought how stupid. When Andrew returned, he continued to glance but with a confused look. Bitch, can’t we just be all friends in for lunch, ain’t no body runnin’ no damn train, DAMN and IF we were, I can pull a blonde piece if I wanted and it ain’t NONE for you to worry ‘bout, Ol’ G…punk ass. Don’t let me catch you in my Subway no’ mo, ho!....lol

It’s even more funny, how I was later watching “Save the Last Dance” and Julia Stiles and Sean Patrick Thomas’ characters were getting the same looks but were in an ACTUAL subway….HA! Life mimics art…or something like that.

…with his beeeetch ass…