I AM SUCH A KLUTZ

Well. I don't know what else to say. The title says it all. Klutz I am. Why? Hmmm...For the second time in my life, I popped my knee out (my right one). How? While dancing (both times)! At least, this time, it wasn't my fault. Some asshole kicked me in the shin while I was turning the opposite way. Pop goes the right knee.

Kinda weird seeing your leg form weird angles while you fall slowly to the ground. First reaction was to pop it right back in. Ofcourse being surrounded by dancing drunks, all oblivious to my situation, none offered any help nor inquired if I was OK. Heck they must all think I had too much alcohol. So they all kept prancing their merry asses. I had to get out of there or risk being trampled by bloody queens and their faghags (since when did faking epileptic seizure on the dance floor become so cool?) But my friends were nowhere in sight, so I practically dragged myself out of the dance floor. Looking and feeling like a total loser. You don't know how embarrassed I felt. Ugh, I am such a fag! There I was, practically disabled and all I can think about was did the cute guy I was scoping saw my mishap?

Anyway, I'm doing fine now. Somewhat. My Ortho scheduled an MRI. I'm crossing my fingers that I don't need surgery.

Blame it on Flea!

Another Saturday, another night celebrating a friend's birthday. Whoopee. I haven't seen Leslie in a while, so I was looking forward to greeting her a happy 31st birthday. Not to mention that I just got out of work. Earlier on, my friend Flea and myself decided to meet up at her place before going to Leslie's surprise birthday party. I didn't know where it was and the fact that Flea said it was just right around the corner from her place. Not putting into account how Flea puts things in her perspective, I suggested that we take our heavy things and just walk since it was just around the corner.

12 blocks later, we arrived to our designation. It was a beautifully still-in-the-process-of-renovation 3 story old victorian house. I fell in love with the place almost immediately.

Went inside, gave our pleasantries and looked for the birthday girl. Who asks me, "Did you bring the Chicken Adobo?"

Me: Excuse me, what?
Leslie: The Chicken Adobo.
Me: (getting dizzy, thinking it was a joke) I don't, I don't...NO. What are you talking about?
Leslie: Flea said you were going to bring the Chicken Adobo.
Me: But, but...Flea!
Flea: Yes? (all smiles)
Me: Did you forget something?
Flea: (thinking really hard)
Me: Chicken Adobo?
Flea: Oh, yeah. You're supposed to bring Chicken Adobo to the party.
Me: (must have started to look like a raving lunatic)
Flea: (bumbling) You...you know me! I forget things. I...
Me: Oh shit.
Leslie: Don't worry about it. It's just that everybody was looking forward to the main course and none of them have eaten yet.
Chantal: (host) I'll defrost some chicken.
Me: (thinking) OH FUCKING SHIT.
Me: It's ok. Jodi, can you give me a ride?
Jodi: Where?
Me: KFC. Someone forgot to tell me about bringing something.
Flea: (cowtows)

So Jodi, Flea, and myself dashed to the nearest KFC to get the much needed chicken. The whole time Flea was apologizing. I didn't really care but wanted to relish Flea's torment. It wasn't really her fault. I mean, they couldn't get a hold of me and made sure that I knew about bringing the chicken instead of asking Flea to tell me about it.

Anyway, I order a 20 and 16 pcs bucket and what do you know, they ran out of chicken and they didn't want to cook more. At one point, one of their clerks asked me if it was ok for them to give us some (not all) chicken that we ordered and refund the cost of the rest. I was thinking, Are you fucking kidding me? Maybe it showed in my face coz the lady took a step back and never mentioned about refunds again. Instead 25 minutes later, I got my order. I should have asked for a discount but what the heck. All I wanted was the chicken. Atleast it was fresh.

A tribute to Day Dreamer and Soul of a Sailor

Last week I have stumbled upon two blogs that were/are written by soldiers. Army and Navy were both represented. And luck would have it, the two bloggers were in a relationship...with each other. Couldn't get any better, I thought, and both wrote eloquently albeit they were Republicans. I guess no one is perfect. Sadly, both of their blogs went on hiatus due to personal reasons. I don't want to assume anything but rather would like them to know that atleast someone is rooting for them. So I'm reposting something I posted way back. Something about my reason why I joined the military. Here it is:




Funny really. The first year I got out from the Army, I was online and stumbled upon Planetout's request to GLBT service members to share their military service. It was, as I recall, for their Memorial Day edition (I think). I thought, "Might as well." It's not like they were going to publish it online since I was sure there were others that would be more interesting than mine. And to my surprise, I received an email from them stating otherwise. They liked my story, were getting my consent, and possibly a picture. The rest, was online history. So now, I'm sharing it to you all. (I hope PlanetOut is not going to sue me for this)


Sex and Love in the Barracks (their title not mine)

My name is Jake F. I just got out of the military in August of last year (1999), after five years of service. I joined right after high school, since I didn't know what I wanted to do. All I knew was that I wanted to take a break from my studies, so I opted to enlist in the Army. I guess I also joined to prove to everybody and myself that I was a man. I always knew I was gay, but I had trouble dealing with it because I was raised in a Catholic family. The fact that people at school always picked on students they thought were queer also didn't help. So I kept my true self bottled within. Then I enlisted.

During the months of basic training in Missouri, I was oblivious to the men in my company. I never developed any lust or anything. I was too hyped -- adrenaline coursing through my veins the whole time. The only things concerning me were making sure I passed my physical fitness test and trying to ensure that my drill sergeant's attention wasn't directed at me. I had a great time. I felt like a true man, not having any thoughts about another man.

In my third year in the service, I finally let loose my emotions. I fell in love with my best friend at the time. He, too, was a soldier. We were both stationed in Germany. Being overseas, soldiers tend to get drunk almost every night. During one of those binges, things got out of hand. We started playing around, punching each other, like most drunk men do. Then we got rough and started wrestling on the floor. We ended up kissing one another. For the first time in my life, I had sexual intercourse. I was 20 years old. I was dumbfounded. Both of us were scared someone might suspect. We were so scared of the consequences that we eventually drifted apart, and not even a whisper was heard. I once again went into my shell.

When I got transferred to Ft. Bragg, NC, six months later, my urges resurfaced. One day, I found the courage to go to a local gay bar. It was called Spektrum-- or "Rectum," to the regulars. It was a meat market. I was so nervous being in there, only 10 minutes away from post, that I got myself drunk silly. I woke up the next day in some stranger's house. I became a regular. I went there all the time, with no official consequences. I met other soldiers -- enlisted, non-coms, and officers alike. Like me, they were gay and it didn't bother them that at any given time the MPs or even CID could come busting through the door. Inside the bar, we were ourselves. Outside, we were what we had to be-- men in uniform.

My last year in the service, I was no longer afraid of the outcome if any of my peers or superiors found out that I was gay. Little by little, I came out to my friends, and later to my coworkers. I can say this: I was truly accepted. None of them cared that I was gay. I was a hard worker and a good soldier. That was all that mattered to them. By the end, even my chain of command, in a way, protected me if someone from another unit suspected that I was gay. I feel ashamed of that now -- how they must have dodged those "witch hunts" for my head constantly. Heck, I was so out that I didn't care who heard me. Sometimes I would even act "queer" to make my coworkers laugh. I must admit that I abused that protection to the extreme. I've had bad times, but I could never forget about the good times. I had a great experience, and I would do it over again. I think I am one of the lucky ones who met a lot more people who are tolerant than people who are bigots. I joined to prove I was a man, and I did. And I am proud to be a gay man.

You can read the story on planetout.com here.

SAVETOBY.COM

Isn't he/she the cutest bunny ever! It's Toby! Wiggle your nose, come on! Such a cutie pie! And unfortunately the owner wants to eat him! Maybe not in a pie, but actually eat him. The bastard even posted recipes! And on June 30, 2005. Toby will be eaten. The catch? Well, Toby will be saved (not eaten) if the owner receives a total of $50,000 before the alloted date through donations and merchandise.

What a genius! Mind you, I'm not a sadistic fella, but doggone it! I wish I could have thought of it! As of right now, Toby's owner has collected $24,515.62. Wow. I'm sure that the owner is not really going to eat Toby. A funny marketing ploy if you ask me. And PETA couldn't even do anything about it. I think. Anyway, go save Toby!

I just hope that nobody ever think of this crap ever again.

CHARLIE-KUN!

HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY!

Mike's Promotion

Well! It seems like Mike, one of my co-worker's best friend, just got promoted for the second time within a year. One can only assume how that could happen...

Is there something you would like to share Mike?

Testes 1 2 3...

Another drunken friend calling me on his Birthday! Hey Kev! You sexy bitch!