Thursday, March 27, 2014

I AM APPALLED!

Readers of my blog know I post more humorously but sometimes certain in this world are so despicable that need to be pointed out:

I'm so enraged I feel a need to share this with you.To say I am appalled by this would be an understatement. That it happened in a zoo and in such a progressive country fills me with rage. I wish we could drag these people before a court on criminal charges. We need to shame the ones responsible, show the world their faces, & remove them from any animal care office by spreading the word on Facebook, Twitter, or whatever. Killing the giraffe was a horror when I read about it but now this! They need to be stopped. So please share this call for action.

http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-26734377


Below are the faces of some of their victims !

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Ah those penguins...so much like our Chelsea Boys


Joined friends to see a movie about penguins. It seems the male of the species will walk over seventy miles on ice in below freezing temperatures to meet up with  their females. All this work in order to mate over the course of a few days. Seems even  among animals there is nothing a guy won’t go through to get laid.

Planned that oh so "Perfect Funeral to Die For"


Well I spent a very productive day today with my closest friend planning my gay 
funeral services. No honey you can relax, I’m not planning to ‘shuffle off this mortal 
coil’ anytime soon. By the way does ANYONE know what the hell that often used 
phrase means? I Keep seeing images of bed springs ...but THAT is another post. :)

Anyway, I've spent a lifetime being fabulous. I’ll be damned if I’ll let the 
final beads on my gay life’s necklace end up rolling on the floor of some dreary last get- 
together. Let’s be honest .How many of us have gone to some dull finale for an enemy 
and snidely whispered to others, “Gees if they were alive they NEVER would be caught 
dead here let alone be the guest of honor for it.” So, do you want your enemies whispering 
that at your goodbye to you, especially when you are too...well dead...to retort back with a 
fantastic a verbal bitch slap? Hmm, you get it now huh. 

Don’t plan ahead child & this could happen to you. I can’t speak for others, but I’d 
die of embarrassment at such a ending. So today I took that bull by the horns and worked out my exit festivities. Something simple and dignified, I assure you, in keeping with the overall 
way I lived my life. I swear if I see one smirk I’ll stop here. Okay I won’t but NO smirking. 

That said, I’ve decided to call what my friend and I, or rather mainly I, worked out, “My exit stage  right bon voyage and we miss you” party plan. It goes something like this: 

First our hot dancer friend Darius gives the eulogy at the head of my coffin. Preferably he will be completely overcome by grief and filled with sobs. As I visualize it, Darius will look so cute with his dancer’s body quivering in remorse with his  bluish- green eyes filled with tears.  I’ve left instructions that he is to wear a tight blue Tee shirt since we want to keep the mourners riveted on him as he extols my ...whatever.  Besides, it would be nice gazing directly up from my coffin at his sexy sculpted pectorals before I drift off. Especially quivering ones. Hell I may be dead  but I’ll never be THAT dead! 

This brings me to my coffin. Oh come on let’s not be squeamish here. I mean do you 
want someone else to pick out what you will wear the last time you appear in public? 
Ah a light hits your brain at last I see. Good gay boy. 

I’m going for simplicity myself. It will be a plain bronze affair that will be thrust upward { I so love a good upward thrust} from the ground by nicely carved naked male angels at each corner. Naturally they we ill be bent over {another favorite  term of minein inconsolable grief.

 Finally I’ll require just a few well placed pin lights hitting the polished bronze to give off a 
disco-like sparking effect. 

In a side corner of the room a few Speedo clad muscular bartenders will discreetly serve cocktails to the multitude that come to mourn. Lastly, a cute sobbing eighteen year old go-go boy will be draped over the foot of my coffin moaning loudly that sex will  never be as good for him now that I’m gone. Well SOMEONE must speak for all the shattered boys I’ve left behind, right! 

Like I said, very simple and dignified.