R.P. Andrews's Blog, page 62

What If The Supreme Court Says No?

What If The Supreme Court Says No?

The Supreme Court recently announced that it will decide, once and for all, whether gay marriage should be the law of the land – in all fifty states – by the end of its term this June.

So what if the Supreme Court says no?

Highly unlikely, since the have-nots (14 states) are greatly outnumbered by the have’s (36 states and D.C.), but if for whatever reason the Court does a flip-flop and decides that gay marriage is not protected by the Constitution or is a states’ rights issue to be decided by each state, can you picture the social and legal chaos that would create in those states where it’s already law? Would the gay community become a new, homegrown ISIS and start terrorist guerilla warfare with str8 society? (Finally all those juiced up muscleboys would have something to do with their pecs besides looking pretty.) Or would str8’s turn on us? Start raiding our bars, start arresting us in our ghettos for petty shit. Or worse.

Would a no from the Supreme Court give the homophobics the justification, the ammunition to not only hate us more but turn on us in ways we haven’t even imagined?

And trying to get an amendment to the Constitution to allow SSM through a Republican Congress would be harder than trying to fuck a tight nineteen year never-been-fucked ass with a dick high on meth.

What If the Supreme Court says yes?

Most likely, but would the states that have fought the inevitable, like the South did after the civil rights legislation was passed in the sixties, block entrance to their marriage license offices, tie it all up in bureaucratic bullshit, or resist with a guerilla army of their own? Maybe even get the GOP driven Congress to pass an amendment to support their notion of marriage?

Would a yes actually fuel a new wave of homophobia?

And BTW, where would all this leave polygamy and polyamorous relationships? Hey, if two guys can get married now, why not three guys, or a guy and two gals?

Well, why not?

But with all the other shit our country is facing, and with the “sanctity” of marriage pontificated by the Church in the sewer anyway (60% of hetero hook-ups end in divorce), don’t you think we all have better things to worry about?

“No One is Born Gay”

“No One is Born Gay”

So says Parents and Friends of Ex-Gays, another one of those conversion therapy advocates, that recently posted a billboard on Interstate 95 in Virginia urging that gay people can “turn” str8 if they put their minds to it.

On its website, the group gets even more predictably bizarre: “People deserve to know the truth about the many men, women and children who have made a decision to change their lives … it’s important to remember that sexual orientation is a matter of self- affirmation and public declaration.”

Bullshit!

Sexual orientation is a genetic roll of the dice. Period. True, upbringing and environment can either re-enforce it or repress it, and guys and gals can make a conscious decision to lead a str8 existence, and sublimate their natural desires. But that doesn’t change one damn thing – they’re still gay inside and will be to the day they die. Some are successful in pretending; for others, such repression only leads to supreme frustrations that manifest themselves in outrageous behaviors, even criminal ones, when the individual can no longer hold back.

Hey, I never had any guilt trips about my sexual orientation, not in my teens when I realized I liked guys not girls, nor later when I found there was a whole world out there populated by people like me. I was lucky. I came out at the beginning of Gay Liberation, but even in those early years being “out” on the job left you ostracized and unemployed. Yet that didn’t deter me from expressing my sexuality on my own time. Nor did I ever feel I was a terrible person for doing so, just a discrete one at a time when discretion was common sense.

Having said all that, what’s my acid test for why I think the conversion therapy freaks are dead wrong? Who, even in this enlightened age, would “choose” to be gay in a society overwhelming dominated and controlled by str8’s where being str8 is just easier?

Huh?

We’re All Addicted !!!

We’re All Addicted !!!

First it was to caffeine, nicotine and liquor.

Then for the more sophisticated there was cocaine, heroin, meth and pills.

But now there’s an addiction raging across the country that makes all the others look like a piss in the ocean.

It’s smartphoneitis!!

Both str8’s and gays suffer from it, though I think us gay boys are particularly wedded to our phones and all those devilish pick-up phone apps or for those of us who work from home can stay in touch while playing hooky ….

We use them in the gym in between or instead of working out …

We use them in the bars instead of socializing and cruising …

We use them on the beach instead of non-conspicuously gawking at the near naked eye candy …

We use them crossing the street or riding our bikes or driving our cars when our eyes should be elsewhere …

We use them on the bowl… yea, we use them everywhere.

Except maybe in Lauderdale’s local sex club where smartphones are “forbodden.” You know, management doesn’t want the boys to be texting hot pics back to family and friends.

But why are we all so addicted?

Do our phones represent our link to the world?

Make us feel less alone?

Serve as our electronic pimps?

Or is holding that piece of hard plastic and metal that never goes soft in your hand a dick lover’s wet dream?

Florida and Gay Marriage

Florida and Gay Marriage

I write a lot about gay marriage – after all this is a blog on contemporary gay culture – but frankly I don’t care one way or the other about the issue. But God bless those that do: 106 couples got married in the pre-dawn hours of January 6 here in Fort Lauderdale alone when it became legal, and they say as many as 25,000 gays will get hitched here by year’s end.

Making gay marriage legal generated several hundred million dollars in business for New York State and the experts rightly predict it will happen here too. Hotels along the beach strip together with wedding planners, caterers, photographers, and whoever else is in the wedding game are already gearing up for a major upswing in bookings. And that doesn’t even touch on real estate and all those trips to Home Depot. In fact, I predict that south Florida will become the gay marriage capital of the country for a couple of reasons:

- The weather. What better place to honeymoon than beachy Lauderdale or Miami? In fact, the Fort Lauderdale Tourism Bureau is planning a 100 gay marriage mega event on February 5 – on the beach. And the luxury hotel, W, right across from the beach, sure to gain from all the hoopla, will be offering free champagne toasts.

- South Florida has become a major gay destination for vacationers and new residents alike. Gay vacationers generate billions of dollars during Season (November-May) when the rest of the world is freezing its ass off (it’s 81 degrees as I write this); and those moving down here contributed to Florida becoming the third most populous state in the country, beating New York for the first time. And while we still have our red necks and Bible Belters (some of whom in north Florida refuse to perform gay marriages or issue licenses), South Florida’s Wilton Manors, our Castro, Hell’s Kitchen or Boystown, is ranked among the top ten gay friendliest cities in the country.

- Many of those couples wanting to hitch legally are over 50 and have been in long term relationships, and Florida, especially South Florida, is a retirement mecca, and Fort Lauderdale, in particular, more than pretty boy Miami, is a welcoming place for us older gays.

- Even if couples live in states where gay marriage is legal like NY or NJ, a marriage consummated in Florida will be recognized back home.

I’m certain many if not most of the couples getting married are doing it for love, companionship, legal or financial advantages or any combination thereof. But, just like with some str8’s, I have my cynical reservations:

- How many gays are getting married strictly for the glitz value? (Ah, divorce lawyers are already busy in Wilton Manors and actually it was a lesbian couple seeking a divorce that started the whole legal circus that led to the ban on SSM being lifted).

- How many of these marriages are or will remain monogamous, particularly in a town known for its promiscuity?

- How many of these marriages will be between the have and the wants, again in a town populated by lonely, vulnerable, wealthy and often naive retirees and young, pretty, nowhere gold diggers?

Just asking.

Is It Too Late?

Is It Too Late?

We thought it would never happen here, but after 9/11, we figured our intelligence, restructured after the WTC fuck-up, would save us.

Then, after billions of dollars and thousands of dead and maimed soldiers and civilians, we thought taking out their leaders would do the trick.

But all that did was leave a vacuum for even crazier zealots to move in.

Maybe at one point there was an opportunity to wipe them out, but now, unlike the Nazis who were a focused enemy, they’re like cockroaches who have invaded a tenement building, infiltrating every continent and every country worth infiltrating, with guerillas either trained by them or brainwashed by their warped message clothed in religious fervor. Treasonous expatriates with American passports, or French passports, or British passports only a jet ride away.

So what did we learn from Paris, the latest in a string of terrorist-backed or inspired massacres, or Sony, the latest in hacking nightmares?

Is it, that despite all our rhetoric and chest-pounding and flag waving and bravado, we have lost and they – whether they are a terrorist cell or lone wolf or fifteen year old hacker – have won?

So we nail the culprits.

So what?

More attacks with bullets or 0’s and 1’s are a certainty. The only uncertainty is when and where.

At Targets while you’re shopping

At the gym, working out.

Or at a bar on a Saturday night, unwinding.

Suddenly all your muscles and career moves and tech toys and friends and lovers mean absolutely nothing.

Is it too late?

What do you think?

It Ain’t Over Til It’s Over

It Ain’t Over Til It’s Over

Hey, gay marriage is nearly in the bag nationwide, and the feds classify violence against us as a hate crime and protect us in various forms of discrimination, so it sounds like we got it all – or soon will.

Ah, but not so fast.

According to a recently released report compiled by a number of advocacy groups, rampant discrimination against gays is still alive and well in the U.S. Fewer than half the states have laws that protect gays from bullying in schools or discrimination in employment, housing and public accommodations like restaurants and stores. Hey, wearing a wedding ring as a gay man can get you legally fired in 29 states; and many companies, even under Obamacare, are not mandated to provide health insurance to SS partners – and their children.

I remember years ago my partner and I, no flaming queens, entered a crowded Italian restaurant on very str8 laced suburban Staten Island where we lived (and paid taxes), grabbed a table and waited over half an hour with no one even saying a peep to us. We were the only two men in the place and it became evident what was really going on. My other half, always the grumbling type who never grumbled to the right people, didn’t like it when I ordered him to get up and follow me out as I shouted so everybody in the place who had been side-eyeing us up to now had something to look at: “Our money is as good as any body’s else’s!”

Even in the marriage arena, many state legislators are afoot to pass laws that would permit businesses in the wedding game like florists, caterers and photographers to not have to serve gay clients if they felt it was violating their religious beliefs. (But it’s okay to take those federal and state business tax deductions, huh, buddy?)

But far more insidious is the veiled or outright hatred individuals or groups harbor for folks who are different – like us. That’s something you can never legislate away and, no matter how enlightened or inclusive our society may become, will ever go away.

So it ain’t over til it’s over – but will it ever be?

Is “Gay” a Derogatory Term?

Is “Gay” a Derogatory Term?

It’s refreshing to hear a young str8 person take a pro-stance on gay rights like the opinion editor of American Heritage’s high school newspaper did recently, but what kind of took me by surprise was her opening sentence: “The word ‘gay’ is commonly used as a derogatory term in today’s society.”

Huh?

I’ve always viewed “gay” as a pretty neutral, attitude-free word to describe those of us who prefer our own gender sexually. Now, words like faggot (though we call one another that all the time) , queer, fairy, bugger, dyke, and pervert to name a few are all emotionally charged terms, But I never took “gay” to be one. It certain beats those cold clinical terms, “homosexual” or “lesbian” which sound like we all belong on some psychiatrist’s couch.

After all, what other terms are out there?

“Alternatives”?

So, what do YOU think? Do you consider “gay” some kind of slur? If so, why, and what would you suggest we and the rest of the world call us?

Florida Nearly Fucks It up Again – This Time with Gay Marriage

Florida Nearly Fucks It up Again – This Time with Gay Marriage

In other anti- gay marriage states, even after protracted legal suits, when the U.S. Supreme Court declined to hear the state’s appeal, that state threw in to the towel and dropped its ban. Oh, but not here in Florida. Our just re-elected Republican Attorney General Blonde Bimbo Bondi, who I think is channeling Anita Bryant, attempted to put a halt on the lifting of the ban here, scheduled for next Tuesday, by appealing her case to the Supreme Court. But even after the Court said no, she continued her rantings, arguing that since the lawsuit brought by a gay couple that started it all here took place in a northern county, only that county could issue marriage licenses to same sex couples.

Huh?

Besides being grossly discriminatory to the rest of Florida’s gay residents, most of whom live down in South Florida where I am, her continued actions in futility are costing us tax payers dollars that would have been much better spent.

What form of no don’t you understand, bitch?

Well, the federal judge who ruled on the original lawsuit and ordered the ban lifted put an end to this circus on Thursday by declaring that his ruling applied to the entire state. I’m sure there will be a parade in Wilton Manors, our gay ghetto and one of the largest in the country, come Tuesday. And the Fort Lauderdale Tourism Bureau, anticipating a lot more honeymoons in the Sunshine State, is planning a mega- one hundred marriage event on the beach this winter.

Want me to rent one of those beach lounge chairs so you can watch for yourself, huh, Bondi?

Watching The Ball(s) Drop New Year’s Eve at Swinging Richards

Watching The Ball(s) Drop New Year’s Eve at Swinging Richards

For the past two New Year’s Eves, G, my other half, and I have spent the night at Swinging Richards, Fort Lauderdale’s premiere male strip club, actually located in nearby Pompano Beach. Hey, it beats what we did most New Years after the party period of our relationship had faded, and that was watching the ball drop in Times Square – on TV.

The first time we hit Swinging Richards was two years ago as a surprise “present” on G’s birthday. I was unsure what his reaction would be but he took to the place like a duck to water, mesmerized by all that young flesh and young dongs. In fact, I used Swinging Richards that I renamed ResErection as the setting for one of the final pivotal scenes in my last novel, “The Czar of Wilton Drive,” the story of Jon, a kid from New York, who inherits two of Lauderdale’s most successful bars from his late uncle. In this scene Marcos, his older mentor, who has now become his lover, takes him for a visit:

“They entered the dimly lit foyer where Marcos paid the cover, then passed through heavy dark curtains, like the moment when Dorothy went from black and white to Technicolor, into a Wonderland of Men.

Beautiful, young naked men.

In the center of this cavernous arena was a long, raised stage where under flickering bright beacons, guys with steel abs forged by God, half hard sausages any Italian deli would be proud to display in its window, and butts sculpted by the Devil, cavorted with haughty smirks on their faces. They shuffled around effortlessly like strutting Gene Kellys and up and down poles like Cirque De Soleil acrobats. Jon could tell they were proud to share their unabashed male physical perfection with their fans – all men, young, pretty, old, plain – who crowded around, either standing by the stage, or sitting at small tables with big drinks, or at the bars that bordered the perimeter, each of them immersed in their own personal, private fantasies with their favorite guy. But, judging by the smutty smiles on the dancers’ faces, it was if the pretty men on stage were getting off on all their adoring fans as much as their fans were getting off on them.

Marcos and Jon grabbed one of the open tables facing the catwalk and sat down. Marcos ordered two Bud Lites from a passing waiter, another hottie overdressed in a blue jockstrap.

“They’re all so fucken perfect…” said Jon, unable to take his eyes off the stage. He watched as guys came up to stick dollar bills in their arm bands. One of the dancers, with a body as tight as a drum, donned only in a black cap, black boots and a faint goatee, knelt down for an admirer, his huge, semi-erect cock bouncing in the guy’s face as the guy showered him with bills like Nero would have thrown gold coins at a young boy he was sweet on at some Roman orgy. “

Well, the men this New Year’s Eve were a bumper crop of male beauty, sought while they strutted their stuff on stage by guys of all shapes and sizes, guys with their buddies or lovers, guys with their girlfriends or wives, along with old men with canes and walkers who were particularly vulnerable targets for the dancers’ off stage meanderings as they attempted to convince them to part with some more of their money for a “private dance” in one of the “VI P rooms.”

While there was no denying that every guy up on that stage was glorious, I saved my singles for the bearded, rough-hewn guy with the hairy chest who was probably no more than twenty-five but already going bald. As I got up close and personal to place my gratuity in his armband, all he was wearing except for his sneakers, I noticed the fur on his shoulders.

Well, who pops up from nowhere as G and I were ready to leave just pass twelve for a midnight breakfast at the local 24/7 diner than Hairy Guy. As G was being besieged for the fifth and last time by some Pretty Boy who was still working on his VIP room quota, I stood up. Our eyes met. “It’s nice to see a hairy guy up on the stage for a change,” I said.

Hairy Guy ran his hand over my bare shoulder ( I was wearing a V-neck sleeveless pullover ) and smiled, “I think you’re a lot furrier than me.’

Sales pitch or the real thing?

I’ll take it any way I can get it.

My New Year Predictions

My New Year Predictions

Leather bars will become so desperate for customers as the traditional leather crowd continues to age out, they will begin offering 3-for-1 drink specials to twinks and their girlfriends who come in with a leather purse. Doesn’t matter who’s carrying it. Prada or Gucci purses or knockoffs get 4-for-1’s.

Google Glasses will team up with Scruff so that when your phone tells you HE’s 34 yards away, and you spot HIM, you’ll be able to flick a switch and see him totally naked with a hologramed crouch alternating between soft dick and hard cock.

No self-respecting gay man will be without his curved 70 inch HD 3D smart TV so he can watch his porn stars bigger than life. (Why settle for a nine inch dong when you can have a forty inch one?) And online sex toy store Fort Troff will partner with Titan Video to offer an aroma dispenser programmed in sync with the video to automatically emit the smell of crotch, pit, ass crack, piss and cum at the appropriate moment, effective within three feet of the viewer. Vibrating dildo to sit on while you watch all this not included.

In-home tattoo removers will become latest rage when guys who have tattoos on their necks, arms, etc., realize that after they lose their job in the gay ghetto, excessive tattoos (like the one across his forehead, “My Danny’s the Greatest”) just don’t cut it with str8 employers.

A special electro app for your smartphone will zap the appropriate muscles and do the work-out for you when you’re on a particular machine in the gym so you can babble on all you like and still get something out of the hour you spent there besides a bigger data usage bill. It will also zap any guys who are pissed off at you for sitting on a machine they’ve been wanting to get on for the past twenty minutes.

On the subject of the gym, super big neck muscles will become the new look as guys addicted to their phones and bending down all the time to see who loves them on Scruff every ten minutes try to compensate for strained “cell neck syndrome.”

There will be a shitload of aging gay “boys” who partied the last thirty years away and suddenly woke up to the fact that they can no longer get by on their looks and have shit who will be occupying park benches, cardboard boxes and disabled bathroom stalls to the point enterprising gay ghettos and stores like Homo Depot and Targees will begin installing pay-by-the-hour meters to take advantage of the situation. The stocks for International Paper, pretty stagnant up to now, will soar and the company will introduce a new insulated box, perfect for those below zero Midwest winters.

With gay marriage almost legal everywhere, enterprising jewelers will be promoting diamond studded cock-rings, and the sex toy shops will sport his and his vibrators, plus condom dispensers or inflatable dildos as wedding favors. All this while the shitload of lawyers already capitalizing on gay divorces will throw in a weekend in Key West to sweeten the pot. (“Dump one hubby – find another!”)

Things4Fun, an online male sex toy shop, sells what it calls the “Fuck Machine”for $799. Lie on your stomach, get in the right position, and let its dildo attachment do the rest. The toy has been so popular that the company will soon come out with “Fuck Machine II” priced at a $1399. The back will project a 3-D hologram of your favorite type of man (hairy, smooth, muscular, slim) onto the wall behind you (wall not included), and you can watch in a mirror in front of you (mirror not included) as he fucks you silly. He even comes with a dirty talk scenario. Choose from the traditional Daddy/ Son (“Like that Daddy Dick up your boy hole, huh, son?”); Captain/Sailor (You didn’t swab the deck clean, so I’m just gonna have to punish that tight ass of yours, sailor …”); Leather Master/Slave (“That hole’s mine, all mine tonight…”) or Yankee Daddy/Southern Rebel Boy. (“My dick up your sweet boy hole is your punishment for fightin’ on the wrong side, boy…”)

The Russian Mob (leave it to the Russies to be enterprising) will have a new division of hit men exclusively for freeloading twinks married to rich daddies who want to conveniently and quietly have the “old man” disappear for the price of an RSVP cruise and automatically inherit his dough as the guy’s legal spouse. Fees tied to the old man’s tax bracket.

Increasingly reclusive web addicts and jaded leather men bored with cucumbers up their asses will start looking at their pets kinda funny after they mainlined. Before long there will be dozens of videos on xtube.com when you search for “fucking a dog,” adding a completely new meaning to the phrase “doing it doggy-style.” Those chi-chi toy breeds so popular with gay guys will disappear in favor of big, unspayed male wolf-like mutts with big dongs and big balls. And for those who want a threesome, hook-up site ads will start including “canine species preferred for good times.”

Hey, if you’re gonna get high, why get just twisted when you can get REAL twisted?

On a serious note …

Have a safe, healthy and productive 2015!