Adventures in Hair

To prove a point, I decided to grow a beard.  What point, you ask?  Well, I can grow a beard in about 14 minutes, unlike lesser men.  And I did.

Holy shit, gramps!

See?  I told you.  This is just a few weeks worth of growth, and you will note in particular that:

I AM AT LEAST 117 YEARS OLD!

And hairy.

And I have at least two creases on my face that need to be filled with either Botox or Restalin or both.  Or maybe some fat from my ass.  I don’t know.

But that really isn’t the point of this rant/rave.  No.  Instead, I want to give you a little insight into my friendship plight.  Let me preface the following discussion by saying that my friends are first class assholes.  Not all of them, but a frightening majority.  Maybe even a super-majority.

Actually, probably 99%.  Anyhow . . .

Now, please know that I post a lot of shit on the Facebook, most of which falls on completely deaf ears and no one says a god damn word in response.  Today, however, I posted a few full-facial beard pics on the Facebook.  And the god damn Facebook-sphere lit up like an xmas tree.  Would you like to know what my “friends” had to say about my beard?  I knew you would.  Brace yourselves to be completely and utterly infuriated on my behalf.  In no particular order:

OMG You are SO gray!!!  But I still love u

you look homeless . . . shave . . now. thanks

We think you need to eat and shave.  You look like a dessicated Sting!  And that’s a lot for me to say . . .

Oh!  You were in an accident!

Why are you doing this?

Amigo if you prefer una barba… then it is your choice.. But I think you much more guapo without la barba…

Do you go to work looking this?

You need a boat captain hat and a corncob pipe.

Who kidnapped my hot funny friend.  And who let that homeless man into your house?  Someon call [the RDP] or 911 ASAP.  This is an emergency.

master of misdirection.  Best herpes cover up I’ve seen yet!

its an anorexic Santa! jk

Can anyone say Harry, as in Harry from the movie “Harry and the Hendersons”?

[My husband] says you look like Billy Bob Thornton.  I think it makes you look older than your fabulous self.

Ernest Hemingway called and wants his look back.

[You] eres muy guapo without la barba, this look… well don’t hate me, is not for you…

Sweetie, you look a little like the hermit who wrote the manifesto…his name escapes me. You’re much more handsome sans beard, that said, it is a nice beard…xo

Ted Kaczinsky? Are you fucking kidding me?  Well, then, I’m sending you a package.  Make sure you open it the minute you receive it.

With friends like these, who needs enemies?  Or an enema?

Now, I know that you are dying to know what the RDP thinks of the facial hair.  I can sum it up in a couple of simple quotes:

It’s like being married to my dad.

Get that shit away from me.

Don’t you EVEN try to kiss me with that mess.

So, I thought you said you were going to trim that or get rid of it.

Not all of the comments were derogatory, however.  No.  My sister-in-law had this to say:

Nice bread [sic].  [No, I am not making that up.  Bread.  Fuck.  Really?]

And a few others, who I have now put into my Last Will and Testament, had nice things to say about my growth.  To my detractors, however, I have a few words to say right back at you:

Fuck off.

I love you bitches.  Even your insults make me happy.  Actually, they make me both proud and happy, because I’ve trained you well.

Oh, and guess what?  I’m growing my pubes out, too, until I look like mother fucking Cousin Itt.  So bite me.

You ain't seen nothing yet!

UPDATE:  Additional comments since posting:

I’d say the more u can cover ur face, the better for all of us who have to look at it.

Hey, Los Angeles: F.O.

Yesterday, some writer for the L.A. Times–a woman who actually lives here in Seattle–wrote an article calling us “wimps” and “clueless” when it comes to winter weather.  I’m sure the woman who wrote the article has been trapped in her own Seattle home, terrified to get into her Cadillac Escalade with California plates to drive herself to Gene Juarez to get her hair did.  Whatever.

But get this:  Tonight, the National Weather Service has issued a “Special Weather Statement” for the armpit of the West Coast because of incoming storms and guess what?  It’s gonna rain and the shizzle is gonna be crazy.  I quote:

This storm will bring light to moderate amounts of rainfall to the area. . . .  Areas should receive between [brace yourselves] one quarter and three quarters of an inch of precipitation. . . .  There will be the potential for local ponding of water on freeways and low-lying areas . . . .

Son-of-a-bitch.  Say it ain’t so!  You mean it’s gonna rain in L.A.?  And get this.  Things in Orange County are going to be dire:

Most of the rainfall will be light . . . but with rather long duration and will result in some slippery driving conditions.

I’m certainly glad the people in Southern California are so much stronger and smarter than Seattleites, because HOW THE FUCK ELSE COULD THEY POSSIBLY SURVIVE RAIN IN AMOUNTS MEASURED IN FRACTIONS OF AN INCH?  Oooooo.  Watch out.  Slippery.

Hey, L.A.!  Fuck off, you pretentious assclowns.  Oh, and since we’ve all been stuck inside up here due to actual weather-related travel problems today, we banded together and spent the day calling and having your plastic surgery appointments for next week cancelled.  We wouldn’t want you to go out in the rain unnecessarily and risk your tits, your lips, or your LIVES, now would we?

 

Governess HorseKnuckle’s Proclamation

Puget Sound is no place for winter.  Our proximity to the ocean means heavy, wet snow.  Our proximity to the mountains means too many hills.  Our proximity to Canada means sudden cold snaps often immediately after heavy, wet snow.  Our proximity to Tim Eyman means too little money to pay for better roads, better equipment, better government, better transit.  Our proximity to everywhere else means an influx of a-holes.

Nevertheless, winter has arrived like your mother-in-law:  Sneaky, mean, passive-agressive, and with no sense of when to go the fuck home.  As a result, for the past 48 hours, I have gone exactly no place to which I couldn’t walk, which around here is no where.  Instead, I have watched video after video, news update after update, and picture after picture of stupid, incompetent people doing stupid, incompetent things in laundry baskets, on motorcycles, in their cars, and even on their feet**–to name a few.  And I am over all of this non-sense, you dickbags.

As self-proclaimed Governess of the great State of Washington, I have a proclamation to make.  Puget Sound is fucking closed tomorrow (Friday).  Everything, everywhere, all day long.  No one is permitted to do anything stupid or incompetent that involves any type of transportation.  Just sit down and shut the fuck up for a few more hours.  Tell your boss to go to hell.  Tell your kids that they can eat dry cereal, pine nuts, and that expired can of re-fried beans for dinner just one god damn time in their privileged little lives because you are not going to the grocery store.  Tell your significant other to go scrape the walk until his hands are blistered JUST LIKE YOU DID TODAY, god dammit.  Tell your co-workers that the ice ruined your Internet connection and destroyed the cell phone tower nearest your home.  Tell your friends not to call unless they want to bring alcohol and give you some hot, nasty lovin’ in the hot tub.  Tell yourself to stop obsessing and squeezing your own belly because you have not been able to go the gym or go for a run for what feels like a month and you have several swimsuit or underpants-themed trips in the VERY NEAR FUTURE.

Mark my words:  Tomorrow is going to be a shit-show from a transportation perspective.  It is going to rain like a cow pissing on a frozen, flat rock, on top of two days worth of slush, snow, ice, snow, slush, ice, and a fair amount of frozen dog pee and a little bit of blood.  Don’t ask.  Just prepare for the worst now and get yourself ready to stop you and your friends and family from doing stupid, incompetent shit.  It will be a test of mental acuity and common sense, but we can do it.  Together.  While trapped in the Alcatraz that have become our homes.

This could be you!

**A special thank you to the very fat, clutsy man with a blood alcohol level of at least 327.6 who, after leaving Leny’s last night, entertained me and my intrepid gays by falling down not once but TWICE within the course of one block.  The first time, he just flailed around like a Weeble-Wobble on his belly while trying to regain his footing.  After our inquiries into his health, he assured us he was fine before marching down to the other corner, where he promptly toppled over sideways into the bushes like a giant Sequoia.  He did not even bother to remove his hands from his pockets to brace himself.  After our inquiries into his sobriety, he assured us he was completely sober and that he did not need or want any help.  We quickly skated away from him before witnessing his inevitable brain injury.

Remember, tomorrow, nothing stupid or incompetent because you do not want to be someone’s equivalent of the fat, drunk Weeble-Wobble for the rest of your lives.  As always, you are welcome.

#SNOverreacting

This morning, Cliff Mass scaled his snow forecast back a bit after the morning forecast model runs.  It’s very technical stuff that only geniuses like Cliff and me understand, so I won’t clog up your empty heads with the details. But there is another very compelling reason to scale back the snow forecast, despite the presence of Jim Cantore right here in our histrionic and panicked city.  You know, Jim.  He’s the Weather Channel meteorologist who doesn’t go anywhere that will not be destroyed within two days of his arrival by stunningly frightening and destructive forces of nature.  Congratulations to us.

This is a little known scientific fact, but the amount of snow that will fall is inversely proportional to the amount of hype leading up to the event.  It’s true.  I swear to Santa Claus.  And holy anti-climax has there been a lot of hype.  Look at this riot-inducing shot of Yahoo’s main page moments ago:

Onslaught. As in, "You will be slaughtered."

Additional headlines:  “Worst is yet to come.“  “Wednesday will be a whopper.” Snow “punch” in the box. YOU ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!

Now, even though I have scaled back my own expert forecast for snow based on the Media-Hype Law of Inverse Snow Proportions™, I am still leaving forthwith to purchase as many bottles of liquor as I can, because why the hell not.  I am also going to the gym, so that, in the event of our nearly certain snow-related deaths, I will look better than you in the giant pit where they are going to bulldoze our naked bodies.

#SnOMG

The earth science geek in me–who, by the way, hates the snow after living in a VERY NORTHERN TIER state for 10 years–is pissing his pants over this ridiculous winter weather that is about to descend on us.  Weather forecasting models, not to mention the addition of new equipment this year, make it nearly certain that the weather is going to go all shitballs in the next like 15 minutes.

But, for those of you (like the RDP) who think that forecasting is about as reliable as fortune telling, I offer you this one, amazingly accurate indicator that the weather is going to be apocalyptic:

@JimCantore

Missing Weather Center Live as I am en route to Seattle for pos. Record snow.

I mean, when was the last time you saw Jim Cantore show up somewhere and the god damn sun came out?  NEVER!

Run for your lives, slobs, because the shit is gonna be off the hook.

UPDATE:  Checklist for Snopocalypse 2012:  Liquor, popcorn, condoms, invites to part-time boyfriends who are within walking distance, butter, salt.  What am I missing?

I’m here

Alrighty, sluts.  I’m mostly back.  Sometimes life grabs you by the short and curlies, and when it does, I become a little anti-social.  I call it “dark space,” and you can read into that anything you want.  Plus, the holidays suck the life out of me, not to mention I drown my holiday miseries in various exploits of mostly ill-repute, almost 57.935% of which feel really good during but not necessarily after.

What am I trying to say?  NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.  [Confidential to the co-Yin to my co-Yang (or vice versa/whatever):  Less dark today.  Definitely less dark.  Still shady, though.]

Now, moving on . . .

Have I mentioned that the Washington Legislature is going to vote to approve full marriage equality for gay and lesbian citizens this session?  Well, they are.  Governor Gregoire has taken the bold step of introducing the bill herself, and so far, at least one Republican (Sen. Litzow, LD 41) has agreed to vote yes.

WAIT JUST A FUCKING MINUTE!  Newsflash, you stupid horse!  A second Republican Senator, Sen. Cheryl Pflug, expressed her intention to vote yes on the bill, too, just a few hours ago.  Shit.  You all do not understand how important it is to have Republicans agree to vote in favor of this bill–we need a few cross-over Republicans in order to make up for a few chicken-shit “democrats,” who will not vote for marriage equality.  Fucking amazing news.  I better have another drink to celebrate.  Please hold . . . . . . . and back (with drink).

If you will indulge me, can we now celebrate the joy that is stupid?  I knew you would agree, you stupid-lovers.

Do any of you know who this freak-of-nature is?

Who's crazy? He's crazy! Yay!

Well, let me tell you.  He is a local religious leader type person, and he hates all gay rights, including marriage equality.  Oh, and he is filled to the brim with crazy-sauce, like a dead corpse is filled with embalming fluid.  In fact, so opposed to equal rights is “man-of-god” Hutcherson that he even agreed to participate in a marriage equality “debate” on January 18, 2012, with the likes of Dan Savage–a debate that when asked by my pals to attend, I said, quite vehemently, “Fuck off.”  Not only is there no real debate about the Constitutional mandate that requires equality, but there is no debate that gay and lesbian Washingtonians continue to be denied equality in marriage.  Plus, all of the arguments against marriage equality are bullshit–such bullshit that they do not bear repeating on my very important, high-quality, no bullshit blog.  Oh, and I am already an exceptionally angry person, and I do not need to see or listen to Hutcherson and his ilk spew crazy any more than I need to be robbed at gun point or to be stuck in grid-lock when I have a date with my favorite cocktail.

But, here’s the rub:  The good and godly have pulled out of the debate under what can only be described as false pretenses.  By false, I mean that they have said they will not attend because the original venue is “too small,” the “debate” needs to be moved to a larger venue, a larger venue will cost thousands of dollars, and a larger venue cannot be secured on such short notice.  And by false, I also mean to say that they are chicken-shits.  And they are stupid, Stupid, and STUPID.  Why?  Unless they are stupid, then even they know in their hearts and minds that marriage equality is the right thing to do.

Side Note:  In the last few days, while Hutcherson was pulling out of the “debate,” his partner in crime and fellow entertainer debator, Steve Pidgeon, filed a proposed Initiative that would “protect” (really?) marriage by defining it as “between one man and one woman.”  If they collect enough signatures, it will appear on the ballot and the tyrannical majority will vote on it in the general election in November.  Quaint, no?  Fuckers are as fuckers do.  Or something like that.

Whilst the chicken-shit, “separation of church and Whaaa?” wing of the Republican party are running for the hills, the fair-minded, oath-of-office honoring, equality-minded wing of the Republican party are coming out in favor of marriage equality.  Think I’m kidding?  Besides the Senators mentioned above, Republican King County Councilmember Reagan Dunn (the son of U.S. Congresswoman Jennifer Dunn (R-Wash., deceased)), as well as Republican Councilmembers Jane Hague and Pete von Reichbauer, voted for a King County statement in favor of marriage equality.**

In summary, there is no debate about marriage equality for gays and lesbians.  It is the right thing to do, now is the time to do it, and only the INSANELY STUPID AND CRAZY are coming out against it.  Even when they come out against it, they retreat into the shadows of hatred and misinformation before they can be subjected to the bright, white light of justice, equality, and the truth (even if the bright, white light takes the form of entertainment debate).

If you’re a Washingtonian, first, a shout out:  “Hey, girl, heyyyyy!”  Second, call your state Representative and Senator, particularly if he or she is a Republican, and ask him or her to vote yes for marriage equality this Legislative session.  If you do not know who your elected Representative or Senator is, use this handy tool from the Legislature to look them up.  Finally, a sincere thanks for helping to make equality a reality for every citizen.

**Reagan Dunn said that his vote in favor of marriage equality is due in part to the influence of gay and lesbian friends.  No doubt, his work on the King County Council with fellow Councilmember Joe McDermott–who is not only smart, talented, reasonable, and well-respected, but also openly gay–has had an enormous impact on Dunn’s politics.  I’m sure others in the GLBT community have influenced Dunn, too.  If anyone doubts the power of living openly, of standing in the truth of who you are, this should be a lesson.  You can influence people and help craft a future of equality–whether gay or straight or in between–simply by telling your story; speaking out in favor of equality; demanding that your elected officials recognize and effectuate equality for all; and, most importantly, voting for equality and equality-minded individuals every single chance you get.

Extravagant Gay Lifestyle No. 168

I have another episode of Extravagant Gay Lifestyle (TM) to share.  I know how much you bitches love to mock my pain, so I’m sure you are absolutely tingling with joy.  You will be glad to hear that you aren’t the only ones who love to mock my pain.  In fact, the RDP* is a frequent–and by frequent I mean constant–mocker (is that even a word?) of my pain.

Let me lay the foundation for this episode.  Yesterday, I was turned on (pun intended) to Davey Wavey.  Who is that, you ask?  Well, he is only the best set of man-tits on the Internets, ladies and gentlemen, to wit:

Titsy McBooberson

Plus, he’s sweet and funny and a little dirty, and I would like him to be my future RDP.  Oh, and he has a great website to which you should pay constant attention, just like mine (yeah, mine peckerheads).

So, as the RDP and I were getting ready to go out and drink my favorite new drink, the Vieux Carré, the following Extravagant Gay Lifestyle (TM) conversation occurred:

Moi:  Honey-Pie-Fart-Face-Saggy-Butt-Snookums-Pants [he absolutely LOVES terms of endearment], you have to come check out this new, hot, gay vlogger/blogger that I found today.  I can’t believe our dirty, horny gay friends didn’t already tell us about this guy, because he is infinitely adorable.

RDP:  Is he brown?

Moi:  What?  Is he brown?  What in the fuck are you talking about?  Do you mean like his skin color?

RDP:  Yes.  You know how I like my boys a little brown.

Now, let me interrupt your reading pleasure right here.  I know that some of you are keeping tabs on me and putting me together like a carefully-crafted puzzle because you are nosey and think I have something to hide, besides the bodies.  Well, let me give you another piece of the puzzle:  I am not brown.  I am not a little brown.  Now, I have had a little brown in me–if you know what I mean–but unless and until I have baked myself in the sun for 43 days in a row, I am pale.  And by pale I mean iceberg blue.  In fact, probably only about 5 shades darker than this guy:

No, I'm not an Albino. Dickwads.

Where were we?

Moi:  You dated one Asian boy for all of 17 minutes and had relations with [Anonymous African-American Friend] one drunken evening, and suddenly you like your boys to have brown skin?

RDP:  I’ve always liked my boys to have brown skin.

Moi:  Ummm, WHAT ABOUT ME???

RDP:  I don’t know what happened.  Now, go get in the shower and come out tan.

Moi (under my breath):  Why I oughtta come over there and show you just how brown I can be by doing whatever brown people would do to you for dissing me and my pasty white, wrinkled, saggy skin, you cracker.

Oh, but it doesn’t end there, because whilst I was in the shower, the RDP sat down at my computer and viewed Davey Wavey in all his shirtless glory.  So, when I emerged from the shower, dripping wet, naked, humiliated, and not even one single shade darker than when I went in, the conversation continued:

Moi:  So, isn’t Davey Wavey adorable?  Should we invite him to be our houseboy?

RDP:  I stand corrected.  You could have come out of the shower more tan or more porcelain, like Davey Wavey.

Moi (imagined):  MOTHER FUCKER YOU BETTER SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE BEFORE I CHOKE THE LIVING SHIT RIGHT OU . . . .(hands around throat, thumbs pressing on Adam’s Apple)

RDP (also imagined):  *gurgle* *gasp*

And then we went to Toulouse Petit and I drank so many Vieux Carrés that I could no longer feel the emotional pain of being “not brown enough” and “not porcelain enough.”

Thus concludes another amazing episode of Extravagant Gay Lifestyle (TM).  Again, you will note for the record that gay relationships, like mine, are just as abusive as any straight relationship.  And just as alcoholic.  Now, I must drown myself in another bottle of wine, while my RDP is in Central America for work this week.

Wait.  What color are the people in Central . . . Oh you little mother fuc . . . . I am calling a divorce lawyer!

*Registered Domestic Partner (when are you going to remember?)

Dear Occupy Seattle: It’s OVER!

I’ve been quiet again for some time about Occupy Seattle, but recent events with the Occu-squatters here in Seattle have had my blood boiling and juices flowing.  Traffic gridlock, squatting on private property, threats to derail Xmas celebrations, lies about miscarrying a baby that didn’t exist, crime and violence within the Occupy group itself, the sullying of the campus of a public institution, and the hogging of public resources like police, parks, and a shit-load of taxpayer money.

And then this morning, our own KOMO News posted this tweet (and related story) on Twitter:

@komonews komonews.com

Some question whether the Occupy Seattle movement is alienating the very people it wants to help – STORY HERE

If by “some” you mean me, then no shit, Sherlock.  And a whole lot of other people.  I mean, don’t get me wrong:  Lots of people support the underlying cause(s) of the movement, but as I have said over and over, the cause has gotten completely lost in 1) the mechanism of delivery and 2) the shenanigans of those trying to deliver it.  I think I speak for most of us when I say, “We’re just fucking over it.  Wrap it up; close it down; move the fuck on.”

The KOMO story, for those of you who won’t read it, is particularly telling.  An insider, Occupy Seattle medic Thomas Canant, is quoted in the story as being concerned because, according to him, “It’s a 24-hour-a-day job just trying to keep the peace.  People have lost the message.  People have lost the concept of why we’re here.”  The article goes on to quote several non-Occupy Seattleites, who nearly all question the point of the Occupiers’ antics, just as I and so many others have been doing for the past 2 months.

Before I spend the ENTIRE morning sitting here preaching to both the choir (the 99%) and the deaf (the Occu-squatters), I’m just going to cut to the chase:

Wrap it UP! NOW!

Seriously.

UPDATE:  If you think it’s bad that a gay, left-winger like me thinks that Occupy Seattle (and the Occupy movement in general) has crumpled into a withering, useless ball of used toilet-paper, syringes, and lice-infected bedding, well I got news for you!  Even the Stranger thinks you jackasses are “fucking blowing it at this point.”

Misplaced Priorities: Sports

I think we can all agree that the State of Washington and the country in general are in financial shit-dom.  And yet, when you stop to contemplate the amount of money we, as a nation, are willing to pay the coaches of our public institutions (let alone the money we are willing to spend on professional sports), your mind will melt and run out of your bunghole.  It’s fucking ridiculous and is just another sign of how fucked up our priorities are.

I know what you are thinking:  “You, HorseKnuckle, are just a bitter, angry, sports-hating fag who was always picked last for every team in school.”  To which I reply:  “You, vapid ankle-biter, are exactly right!  Kiss my ass!”  But hear me out.

Apparently, we just HAD to have a new coach at the Washington University that is over in the grass near the border of fucking Malaysia, or something.  I don’t know or care why, but I know there was already a coach in place, AND HE DIDN’T STAND BY WHILE HIS ASSISTANT COACH RAPED 10 YEAR OLD BOYS IN THE FOOTBALL SHOWERS!!  Shocker, I know.  So, why fire him?  Beats the fag out of me.  Nevertheless, he was fired yesterday and replaced by some Texas yea-hole who has never played college football but who allegedly locked a player in a closet with a head injury or quelque chose comme ça.  That would be fine with me, except the dude from Texas is now THE HIGHEST PAID PUBLIC EMPLOYEE IN THE STATE OF WASHINGTON!  No fucking bullshit.

People of intelligence would say, “Well, how much could it possibly be?  I mean public employees are not known for earning top dollar like people in the private sector.  What is it, a few hundred thousand dollars a year?”  To which I would reply, “You are clearly stoned because a few hundred thousand dollars a year to play sports all fucking day is a lot of money.”  And then I would blow your intelligent underpants right off of you by telling you that his salary will be . . . wait for it . . .

Shut Your ASS!

Indeed.  Oh, plus performance incentives.  Do the math.  Fuck it, nevermind, pretty.  I’ll do it for you:  more than $2.2 million/year.  FOR FOOTBALL!

As shocked as you may be by that, take it from me:  It’s only the tip of the iceberg of misplaced priorities in this state (and the country).  Rounding out the top 5 public employee salaries are . . . wait for it . . . oh fuck it.  More coaches!  All of them.

• UW Football Coach Seamore Cash makes almost $2 million/year
• UW Basketball Coach Papi Warbucks makes $1.1 million/year
• WSU Basketball Coach Johnny Deepockets makes in the upper 6 figures (just shy of $750,000)
• UW Ass’t Football Coach Gary “Second in Command” Greenbacks also makes in the upper 6 figures ($650,000+)

[N.B. Names have been modified slightly to protect the guilty.]

You, too, can find this information by simply looking through the records of the Washington Office of Financial Management (or mismangement, as the case may be).  Just think of the ways in which that money could be much better spent by the State:  tuition reduction (seems obvious), education (more/better paid teachers, perhaps), social services, prescription medicine subsidies, health care, infrastructure, transportation, parks and rec, and the list goes on and on until you want to squeeze your nuts so hard you pass out.

Fucking fuckers.

PostyScripty:  I want to make sure I’m clear that the salaries paid are not out of tax revenue, but out of athletics revenue.  In other words, the money generated by athletics is kept by the athletic departments to fund athletics.  None of it is or can be diverted to each institution’s mission of education or to other state expenses, even though it is all revenue generated by a public institution.  Don’t get me wrong:  I think sports are an important component of education and can make all sorts of arguments about why they have a place in education and in people’s fat, sedentary lives.  My point, lest I be less than clear, is that it maddens and saddens me to see that, in a country where protestors are marching in the street about our bad economy and socio-economic inequity, we celebrate the hiring of a football coach who will make upwards of $2 million PER YEAR coaching for a PUBLIC institution, and many of us (and I actually mean you) rush out to spend gobs of money on season tickets or donate big-time cash to an athletic department.  I don’t care where that money comes from–it could even grow on a god damn tree on WSU’s campus for all I care.  What I find alarming is that when so many have so little, we (you) are happy to see a coach make millions while our teachers will make on average $54,000 this year, our state legislative representatives will make less than that (both reps and senators), and the Governor of our state makes only $166,000 to serve as the de facto CEO of a entity that employs more than 112,000 people.

I’ll say it again:  $2,250,000 per year to coach football =  misplaced priorities.

Extravagant Gay Lifestyle No. 167

In tonight’s episode, the following exchange occurred betwixt moi and the RDP:

RDP:  Is that wine any good?  I’ve always liked it, even though it’s only $9.99.

Moi:  It’s fine.

RDP:  The first time I had it was after I slept with this guy.  He left it on my doorstep the next day because he was moving to California.

Moi:  That’s a ringing endorsement.  Did you know he was moving to California, or was that a surprise?

RDP:  It’s been a long time, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t talk about him moving, so I think it was a surprise.

Moi:  Well, was the sex worth $9.99?

RDP:  I would never have sex if it was only worth $9.99.

Moi:  How ’bout $10.99?

RDP:  What?  Are you trying to get in on this or something?

So, ladies and gentlemen, there you have it.  Another sexy installment of gay life.  Now, I must go and stare at this picture of Anderson Cooper’s nutsack.

I know balls, and those are BAAALLLSSSSS!

And then, I am going to take this sore throat, snot nose, and shitty attitude to bed and give my RDP exactly $11.01 worth of lovin’.  We’ll try to keep things to a dull snore roar.

Extravagant, indeed.