Posts tagged gay

Photo 8
Notes
Posted 9 months ago
I have a rule: Never sleep with anyone who can’t tell you what he’s reading.   I realized that I hardly ever write or blog about the books I’m into, so I think it’s time to change that (especially in the event that the male gaze has fallen on my blog and it abides by my own steadfast doctrine). Who Was That Man? A present for Mr. Oscar Wilde- by Neil Bartlett I’ll be honest; this was a text I was required to read in undergrad, but I never got through the whole thing.  I saw it sitting on my shelf last week and decided that now was as good a time as any to rekindle my romance with academic dandyhood. It’s a text that probably won’t inspire awe in someone who doesn’t identify as a gay male*, but assuming you know the cantor of the frilly underground, it’s a text about exploring home, the known, and our past.  I actually find the “our” a little troubling, but that’s probably giving too much critique of the book for the purposes of a “go read this thing” post. It’s nice to read a “homosexual historical text” that doesn’t feel jaded for once.  To be fair, I might be projecting.

I have a rule: Never sleep with anyone who can’t tell you what he’s reading.  

I realized that I hardly ever write or blog about the books I’m into, so I think it’s time to change that (especially in the event that the male gaze has fallen on my blog and it abides by my own steadfast doctrine).

Who Was That Man? A present for Mr. Oscar Wilde- by Neil Bartlett

I’ll be honest; this was a text I was required to read in undergrad, but I never got through the whole thing.  I saw it sitting on my shelf last week and decided that now was as good a time as any to rekindle my romance with academic dandyhood.

It’s a text that probably won’t inspire awe in someone who doesn’t identify as a gay male*, but assuming you know the cantor of the frilly underground, it’s a text about exploring home, the known, and our past.  I actually find the “our” a little troubling, but that’s probably giving too much critique of the book for the purposes of a “go read this thing” post.

It’s nice to read a “homosexual historical text” that doesn’t feel jaded for once.  To be fair, I might be projecting.

Text 6
Notes
Posted 1 year ago

While at Talbott Street some old guy tried to grab my ass.

He had poor depth perception however, and he missed my ass entirely.  What actually occurred was that he ball tapped me while I was dancing with a guy to whom I was actually attracted.

Cute Guy:  You okay?

Me:  It’s not you.  I think I just got punched in the balls by the guy behind me…

Chat 11
Notes
Posted 1 year ago

Is that why you're depressed?

  1. Student 1: "Mr. Casey, do you have a boyfriend?"
  2. Me: "I did at the beginning of the year, but I broke up with him in October. It just wasn't working out for us. It's not a big deal though."
  3. Student 1: "Oh so that's what's wrong with you."
  4. Me: "What?"
  5. Student 1: "That's why you're depressed."
  6. Me: "... I'm not depressed."
  7. Student 2: "Is that why you're so mean?"
  8. Me: "I'm not mean!"
  9. Student 3: "Don't worry. You're still one of the hottest teachers in the school."
  10. Me: "Yet again I have absolutely no idea what to say to you right now."
Chat 13
Notes
Posted 1 year ago

Coming Out

  1. Student: "Was it hard for you when you came out to your parents?"
  2. Me: "My family is from the deep south, but for the most part my mom was pretty relaxed about the whole thing."
  3. Student: "I wish I had a white mom."
  4. Me: "..."
Text 11
Notes
Posted 1 year ago

Milk, Eggs, Cheese, Husband…

The Marsh in downtown Indianapolis must have some kind of sequined bat-signal attracting gay men like moths to a flame(r).  

I swear, every time I go into the grocery store I run into 5-6 gay guys between the ages of 20 and 35.  Now you might think that this would be amazing, but that would suggest that I am in ~AtTrAcTiVe MoDe~.  Contrary to what would likely land me looks other than fearful side-eyes, I usually go to the grocery store in one of a few states:

  1. The Feral Gym Bunny:  Sometimes I go running after school, but I don’t really like to change back into my work clothes while I’m sweaty and gross, so I just drive home in my shorts/tanktop.  With that said, I live in the midwest, so I also throw my pea coat over the whole ensemble before getting in the car.  I never quite remember that I look like I’m not really wearing pants and that I look like I’ve been water tortured until I see someone cute look at me with dismay, pitty, and a pinch of fear.
  2. Ms. Frazzle:  Let’s be honest; I don’t look pretty after I teach.  Most days I look like I’ve survived some minor yet significant life event by the time I leave the building.  Today I think I managed to cut my face on a desk and then bleed on my pants for instance.  Mix all of the inevitable and accidental self-injury with the fact that I’m developing a nervous eye twitch, and I appear that I might just as easily be making melatonin and gin smoothies as I could be making dinner.
  3. Fatniss Evercream:  Sometimes I just get sad and go to the grocery store to buy nothing but potato chips, sour cream, and chocolate milk.  It’s like I just escaped the cornucopia in my own sad little version of the Hungry Games.  May the odds be ever in my flavor.  I’m pretty sure that one night my metabolism is just going to click into the “slow” position and I’m immediately going to turn into Jabba the Hut. 

So who wants to date me?