Bubala, Mumi & Max

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Someone Broke My Thai Hymen

Thai Food
Disclaimer: I was going to title this blog entry, "The City 'Mo and the Country 'Mo", but I didn't want those of you familiar with that story about those two wacky mice to get the wrong idea about how I feel about living in the city. Unlike that wussy, little country rodent, I really do like the city. In fact, if I was rich beyond my wildest imagination, I'd certainly have a second home in Washington, D.C. Oh yeah, I was also going to post a picture of an actual hymen to go along with this here story, but actual hymens are fuckin' nasty! I almost threw up my Pop-Tarts™ while I was doing the image search. So, I decided to spare you all the trauma of having to look at a virgin girl pussy.

This past weekend, Mumi and I went into Washington, D.C. to hang out and have dinner with some buds. Being from the country (the suburbs of Baltimore, actually), we are not accustomed to city living and all of it's strangeness.

You see, where we live, in the back woods, Deliverance territory, going out to dinner is an easy decision. We have a choice of either fast food, fried food or fast, fried food. Dinner in the big city, however, that's a whole other ball game. You guys have so many choices. It must take you at least 30 minutes every night just to decide what kind of food you want.

Here are some actual snippets of our conversations about choosing where we would be going for dinner:
City Mouse: "How about Ethiopian?"

Country Mouse: "Um, they have food in Ethiopia? Everyone is awfully skinny there and I'm pretty hungry. Maybe we better try someplace else."

City Mouse: "How about Thai?"

Country Mouse: "Oh no. I'm not going anyplace where I have to dress up."

City Mouse:"Indian?"

Country Mouse: "The turkey will make me too sleepy, and I'm not all that fond of maize."
Okay, okay, maybe the conversations didn't go exactly like that, but that is just about how I felt. I am so uncultured!

We finally decided on Thai food because I know that I like Cup-O-Noodles™ and Thai food has a lot of noodles in it, so I was pretty sure that I could find something on the menu that I'd like. Turns out, I really liked the Thai food a lot. I got some sort of chicken dish with noodles and vegetables and it was very delicious. I gained a little bit of culture on that night. I was no longer a Thai food virgin. My Thai hymen had been broken, and it felt good. Really good...

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Artsy Tuesday: Photos & A Poem


"Dysfunction" - an original poem by Bubala
Such dysfunction
This is not my life
Only the circle closing again
These heavy rains
It’s only Monday
And I’m no stronger
Only older


Sunday, February 25, 2007

Rub It In

As some of you may have already heard, Mumi has a Birthday coming up soon. I asked him if he wanted a Birthday party. He immediately and emphatically said, "No!" Then, after thinking about it a few seconds more, he said that I could throw him a party as long as I only invited hot, hairy men and all of them agreed to give him a full body massage. I think I can make that happen. Who's with me on this one?

Friday, February 23, 2007

Happy New Year!

Happy Birthday Guys!

I was going to get you one of these, but Wal-Mart was all sold out of them. I'll swing by Target on the way home from work and see if they have any.


Thursday, February 22, 2007


Sun is shining.
Ice is melting.
It is getting warmer.
Put away your winter clothes.
It is time to get naked.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Strangers In The Night

Our strange neighbours seemed to have disappeared into the night. The ones with the obnoxiously loud, neglected dog. I heard them loading up their van the night before last at about 1am. They drove off, and we have not seen them since. There is a huge pile of garbage and household items out front. I don't think that they were forcibly evicted though, because they carried it all out themselves. Then, they just disappeared.

I say, "Good riddance!"

These people were strange! We hardly ever saw the adults of the house. They seemed to get home after midnight just about every night and then leave the next day before 7am. They would be gone all day and they left 3 teenage children home all day by themselves. The only time I ever saw the adults was when they would sit out in front of the house in their van for hours at a time. In the cold with the engine off. They would just sit there doing nothing at all. It was like they were afraid to leave the van or something. If we ever happened to come home at the same time that they were driving up, they would not get out of their van until we were went inside our house. It was very weird.

The kids would do all sorts of strange things while the parents were gone all day. They would go into the shed in their back yard, close the door and then start hammering. I don't think that they were actually building anything, because when the shed doors were open and I could see into the shed, there was never anything in there. But then, the hammering would start again the next day.

On more than one occasion I watched the teenage girl barking wildly at her dog. She would run around the yard, pretending that she was a dog herself and bark like crazy at her dog. Then, she would instigate the dog to bark at our fence and tell her dog to attack our fence. Then, she would bark again some more.

I also saw all of the kids, on several occasions, lock themselves in the van with the dog. They would sit there for an hour or more doing nothing. Just sitting there. They really seemed to like that van a lot.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

She Don't Lie, She Don't Lie, She Don't Lie...


I ran into a couple of old friends yesterday evening while shopping for anniversary presents for Max at PetSmart. (We adopted Max 5 years ago yesterday!) I hadn't seen these guys for at least 7 or 8 years.

A little backstory on these guys. We'll call them Bill & Ted for the sake of this here story. Those are not their real names though. Anyway, Bill & Ted are cousins. Bill & Ted are also crack cocaine addicts, at least they were way back when. And, after seeing them again last night, I'd have to guess that they still are. They looked really bad. They look much older than they are. Missing teeth, skin rashes, a general disheveled look. It's a shame really, because both of these boys used to be so cute.

I first met both of them in the early 1990's. I was in my early 20's and they were in their mid-teens. Already, they were alcoholics and experimenting with just about every kind of drug imaginable. In fact, I first met Bill at rehab. I had taken Ted there to visit him. Bill was only 15 at the time. 15 years old and already in rehab. Wow.

In the beginning of our friendship, I tried to be a source of stability in Bill & Ted's otherwise chaotic world. I guess I foolishly thought that I could save them. I wanted them to know that if they ever grew tired of the glitzy, glamorous world of sucking on cans of butane or huffing gas fumes, that they could come and hang out with me in my "drug free zone." That's how it started out, at least.

After a while though, I really got close to Bill & Ted. I might have even developed a crush on one or both of them. Maybe even an infatuation. (After they were of legal age, of course.) Crush or not though, for whatever reason, I became best friends with both of them. I hung out with them at their crazy, teenage drug parties. I drove them home when they were too drunk to drive. I picked them up out of the gutter at 2am when they were way too drunk and didn't even know who or where they were. I would get phone calls late at night from both of them. Sometimes, in order to find them, I would have to get them to describe what they were seeing around them. A gas station, a convenience store, whatever. I would have to hope that they could give me some identifying landmark, something around them, so I would know where to go looking for them. Oh, those were fun times indeed.

So, it should come as no surprise that, when they started to grow tired of me and my straight (sober, in this sense) ways, I decided to join them in their debauchery. Just alcohol, at first. I was over 21. They weren't. So, I would buy the Mad Dog 20/20. We'd go hang out at the train tracks or at the old, abandoned boy's school and we'd get shit-faced drunk. Every night. This went on for a few years. During that time, I gradually started trying various other illegal substances. Weed, hallucinogenics like LSD, weed dipped in hallucinogenics. I sucked on the butane cans. I huffed gasoline. I did all sorts of totally fucking stupid things. (I never did the crack cocaine though. I guess I do have some standards.) And, for what? Even to this day, I cannot tell you why I did those things. I have no idea, really. I was trying so hard to be accepted by a group of misfit, alcoholic, drug-addicted teenagers. Why?

Seeing Bill & Ted again last night brought back a lot of memories I guess that, up until last night, I had been trying really hard to forget about. I was a different person back then. A person that I am not proud at all to say that I ever was. I did some really stupid things, and I have no idea why.

I am so thankful that I met Mumi. He is the reason that I stopped hanging around Bill & Ted. In that sense, I really do believe that Mumi saved me. He gave me something else to do. He gave me somewhere else to focus my energies. He gave me someone else to crush on and infatuate over. He gave me stability and direction. He gave me a reason to care about myself. He gave me everything that I needed. That is why I am so totally devoted to him. I love him so much.

You're my lighthouse.Mumi once said to me in a song that I was his "lighthouse in the ocean." I like to believe, however, that we are both beacons for each other. We both shine very brightly. We keep each other on course and away from those jagged rocks that might otherwise do harm to our vessels. And, even if there is a horrible storm raging in the harbor where my lighthouse stands, and even if the waves seem overwhelming and the rain just won't stop, I hope that he can still see my lamp there, shining through the darkness. I know that I can still see his, and it makes me feel like I am finally safely at home.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Walk On The Wild Side

Do you ever buy cereal just for the prize inside? I know that I do. Sure, the prizes aren't anywhere near as cool as they used to be when were kids. But, every now and then, while I'm perusing the cereal aisle, something way too cool to pass up catches my eye.

Like yesterday, for example, while I was picking a few things up at the local grocery store, I saw this box of Frosted Flakes and it's tantalizing offer for a free Tony The Tiger step counter on the front of the box. I knew instantly that I had to have it. So, I bought it.

They're Gr-r-reat!
This morning, I excitedly opened the box and right there, on top of those sweet, frosty flakes was my awesome prize. Of course, I had to open it up and try it out right away. I attached it to the waistband of my tighty whities and started waltzing ever so proudly all around the house, counting every step that I took. Well, imagine my disappointment, after personally counting 15 steps from the kitchen to the living room and back again, when I looked down at my highly advanced, technological, computerized counting device and it read 17 steps.

Maybe I had made a mistake in my counting. I tried again. 23 steps from the kitchen to the bathroom and back again. Then, I checked the counter. It said 27 steps. Whoa. What a letdown. My step counter doesn't work all that well.

I checked the instructions to make sure that I was using it properly. Now, after reading the instructions, I have to tell you that I am afraid to use the darned thing.

Just look at instructions number 8 and number 9.

8. Participants take part in exercise at their own risk.
9.Kellog's will not be held responsible for any illness or injury that is incurred while using the step counter.

You mean to tell me that I can get sick or injured just by walking around? Wow. I never knew that. Suddenly, I am terrified to walk anyplace.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

All Of This, None Of That

I Love Dreaming!

Hot!I had another naked blogger dream last night. This one involved one blogger in particular. It was very hot. In the dream, Mumi and I were making naked love together or playing "rubby-nakeds" as we sometimes like to call it. So, anyway, while we were going at it, one of our blogger buds walked into the room and just decided to join right in. Of course, we didn't object at all since this particular blogger is a real hottie. It was a great dream!


The Bubala Tube Review

4 Golden RodsOn a completely unrelated and mostly non-naked note, has anyone else been watching The Sarah Silverman Program on Comedy Central? It is too frickin' funny! I highly recommend it. I give it 4 Golden Bubala Rods, which is the highest Golden Bubala Rod rating available.

Speaking Of Dreams...

The Science Of SleepMumi and I watched The Science Of Sleep on DVD the other night. Has anyone else seen it? I loved the story and the imagery. The animated dream sequences were phenomenal. I had a bit of a hard time following the story though. It jumped around quite a bit and the dialog switched between French, Spanish and English many times throughout the movie. I guess I'd give it 3 Golden Bubala Rods.


I am always like at least 6 months behind the current fads and trends, so it was just last week that I discovered the fun number logic puzzle game known as Suduku. I won't waste your time explaining how it works, since I'm sure that all you hipsters out there already picked up on it at least half a year ago. Let's just say that I'm having a lot of fun solving trying to solve the puzzles. Let's just also say that I'm glad that pencils have erasers...

Friday, February 16, 2007

And The Lions Ate The Christians,
And The Christians Burned The Witches

What A Great Idea!It took me a few days to process the Equality Maryland Rally in Annapolis and what went down because I am so emotionally close to the issue. Last year was my first time at the rally, and I must say that it left me rather traumatized. I find it so hard to believe that, in this day and age, people can be so blatantly bigoted and just down right rude. Some of these people can be that way and yet, they still try to wear a Christian mask. This year, we went down there and met up with our buddy Donn. When you go to one of these rallies, you get divided up by your state district number, but at the check in table we were told that someone had picked our district info, but no one else from our district had shown up. (They weather report was calling for snow. Maybe that is why there was a lighter turnout than last year?) So, having no district to tag along with, we decided to go along with Donn and his rather large group to meet with several delegates from their area of the state.

The Glass Is Half Full - Brimming With A Whole Lotta Love

The head of Donn's group was an older woman, in her late sixties probably, whose son is a dentist. Her son's partner is a medical assistant and they have been together for 20 years. Her son and his partner were not able to be at the rally. In fact, there were a lot of parents there trying to protect their gay, lesbian and transgendered children's rights and trying their best to make sure that their children aren't second class citizens of Maryland. This woman was completely amazing though. She really did her homework and knew who we were meeting with and what time we were to meet. She approached the whole subject with a "Can I talk to you Mother to Mother or Mother to Father?" approach. She even brought home movies of her and her gay son and her own mother and other informative stuff on DVD to give to the delegates. This woman certainly got my vote for most caring mother in the world.

In addition to the many parents of gay children in attendance, there were also quite a lot of young gay people there. Let me tell you something. These younger gay kids are a lot more pissed off about the subject of equal rights for gays then I ever was at their age. I share their anger. I also feel like I let them down by not getting involved sooner than when I did. There were also quite a few transgender people there to trying explain their confusion about traditional marriage and how, if someone is transgendered, it makes the whole marriage situation even more confusing.

The highlight of the rally for me had to be watching my friend Donn tell his story about how hard he has worked for all he has. And how he and his partner deserve rights and they deserve to be protected by the state. The passion and emotion in his voice was very moving, and I was very proud of him and proud to be his gay brother. I even made a few points with some delegates myself. (After the rally, Donn, Bubala and I went to The Ramshead and had a special Lobster dinner to celebrate our little victory.)

The Glass Is Half Empty - And I Think It's Cracked And Leaking

One particular delegate who I now see in my nightmares was one of those rude people that I told you about earlier. Although, she was brave to stand by her beliefs in a roomful of pissed off gay people. she was also very nasty and rude. She said to our group of about 20 gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people and their friends and parents that, "I don't support marriage for you or civil unions for you. If you want to get into these relationships, it is your choice, but I don't think that the state should support you in them." Someone should have slapped her face and told her mother on her after that remark. We second class citizens just took it as another "fag" or "dyke" insulting attack on our families and on us.

It's amazing that we didn't all gang up on her and cut off her head and put the video on YouTube. For comical purposes, of course. We are the best, law abiding, peaceful, loving folks, aren't we? So, be fairly warned all you out there in Maryland and in her district. Run away and hide your pets and children if she comes around. For, she may look like someone's mother or grandmother, but behind that sweet, conservative face is a fascist monster with a crucifix. She's probably already laid eggs that have hatched into little demons wearing "Jesus Loves Me" t-shirts. Be Afraid and get out the bug spray.

After Glass - Is It Dishwasher safe?

All in all, I have to say that the experience gave me a sense of pride and empathy with my fellow gay community. It also gave me an intense hatred towards all basketball players. I just hate them all. Just look at those big balls dribbling all over the courts like that. It's just wrong I tell you. They should find their own country to live in. I'm never going to watch another basketball game as long as I live. Instead, I'm going to concentrate on more important things like my friend Durban Bud's Official Oscar ballot. Now, that‘s important stuff. Have you filled yours out yet? That deadline is fast approaching.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

I Prefer The Big Balls

Bubala Bowl Good.
Check it out! I went bowling this afternoon and bowled not one, but two 200 games! Back to back even. And, in the last game I bowled all strikes and spares with no open frames! I will bowl a perfect 300 game some day. It is my only goal in life, after all.

It's All In The Details...

Creamy Goodness!

Sometimes, something is not exactly what it appears to be at first glance. You have to step back and see the big picture to really know exactly what it is that you are looking at.

Mmmmmm.. Cinnamon Buns!


Other times, however, it is quite obvious exactly what you are looking at. Even at first glance.

Yep, still an asshole.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Hairy Valentine's Day!

Hairy Valentine's Day

Wishing everyone a very Hairy Valentine's Day!

Bubala & Mumi

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

A Peaceful Act Of Gay Terrorism Against Straight Weddings

Equal JusticeWell, here we go again. Last night, we made our pilgrimage down to Annapolis to try to get the lawmakers to give us our equal rights and allow us to marry each other. After almost 11 years together, I feel like I'm already married, even if it's not all official on paper. However, there are many legal rights having to do with property, health, well being, death and all that other good stuff that are all a part of that marriage package that Bubala and I are not entitled to, but our straight siblings are. It just doesn't sit well with me. And, sometimes, the way that straight people misuse the rights that I don't have doesn't sit too well with me either.

This is a true story...

One of Bubala's brothers got a divorce after 13 years of marriage. His ex and him have a daughter as old as my relationship with Bubala. After the divorce was final, he quickly found a new love interest and after about a year of dating, they announced that they were getting married. She was also previously married and divorced. So, the wedding plans were made and Bubala was asked to be in the wedding party. I told him that he would be going stag because his date of 8 years, who wasn't legally allowed to be his husband, had some issues with the straight people of the world having unlimited chances at something that we were not even offered one chance at. This caused some friction in the family, but I really didn't think that it was fair. What are we, after all? Chopped liver? Meanwhile, Bubala's other brother was watching his second marriage with a child involved fall apart and come to an end, all while Bubala and I kept on moving along, as happy as could be. (Well, besides feeling pretty fucking pissed off about how fucking unfair it all seemed.)

Anyway, the wedding was coming up and an unexpected announcement was made that Rush would be playing concerts on two nights at Radio City Music Hall in New York City. So, in exchange for me keeping the peace in the family and not performing a violent, terrorist act during the "does anyone have any objections?" part of the wedding, I got to spend two wonderful days and nights in the Big Apple while it was being besieged by Rush fans. I got to watch my favorite band play two sold out shows at one of the most prestigious performing halls in the world, Radio City Music Hall. All the while though, I knew that when we got back, we had to put on monkey suits and be a part of this thing that I was in so much in protest of. Revisions were made to the wedding vows to compensate for my feelings because the bride didn't realize at first that two dudes couldn't get hitched. The parts about man and woman were replaced with partner, and some of the other nouns and pronouns were altered.

So, the big day came and the vows were exchanged as planned, but afterwards and unbeknownst to the bride and groom, the priest decided to put his own footnotes in about how marriage will always be defined as the union of man and woman. Jason's mother held my hand as we sat there and I thought about the bowl of weed in my car and how that when we get done with this ceremony, I was going to light up and stay so high so that I wouldn't get angry. When we got to the reception, I enhanced this by drinking free cocktails. I proceeded to tell everyone how much fun NYC was and that Rush was the greatest band ever in the whole universe. I also mentioned how stupid the bingo themed wedding cake looked. (The happy couple had met each other while playing bingo.) "Who ever heard of fuckin' B-75?"

Wedding PicOh goody. It was soon time for the bride and groom's first dance, the DJ announced as "Unchained Melody" (that song from Ghost where Demi Moore is making pottery) started playing. The newly married couple started start dancing. The DJ invited the wedding party and their guests to join the bride and groom on the dance floor. So, Bubala asked me to dance and we got out there. But, it wasn't just a weave back and forth at a distance sort of dancing. He cradled my head in his arms as we rocked gently back and forth, pressed up against each other oh so tight. While we danced, Bubala gently kissed the top of my head. The whole fucking place, guests, family members, reception staff, minister, DJ, all turned from watching the bride and groom to watching Bubala and I. Damn us fags! Stealing the spotlight like that. The gay bartender thought it was cool though and gave me even more free cocktails. The minister was so appalled that he quickly excused himself and left the reception even before the cake was cut. Jason's family was used to it though. Like I said, I'd been in this family for 8 years at that point. I don't think that the bride's family or her co-workers were expecting it though. We continued dancing and I got drunker and talked more about Rush.

I don't think that the bride had any idea that her that wedding reception was going to be the site of a peaceful act of gay terrorism against straight weddings. Aren't we little stinkers? Hee Hee Haw Haw Ho Ho.

I still want my fuckin' equal rights though and the longer I'm denied them the more pissed off I'm going to get.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Overcoming Enochlophobia (No, It's Not An STD!)

BlowoffWe braved the cold last night and headed down to D.C. for Blowoff for the first time in quite a while. I'm glad that we did. I had a great time. There were many, many, handsome manly men in attendance. And, even though I really don't know how to, I actually danced around a little. Well, I sort of convulsed a little, at least...

I really want to learn how to dance, because, well, I really do want to dance. I picture myself in my mind sometimes, bopping around on the dance floor with everyone staring at me, in utter disbelief of my incredible, mad dance skillz. But, when I get out there in real life, the sad, ugly truth reveals itself. I just don't know how to dance.

Oh well, there are other things to do at Blowoff besides dancing. Hanging out with your buds, pleasant (albeit loud) conversation, new music to discover, shirtless men... Did I mention that there are hot, shirtless men everywhere? Even Mumi was sans shirt for a short time. Now, that was pretty hot!

Ah well, enough inane chatter. Now, on to the pics...

Jimbo's pre-party was a blast, as usual. We discovered early on that it is very difficult to get Durban Bud to keep his eyes open for a picture. Note though, that his lips are not pursed. Pursing of the lips was Mumi's job last night.
Jimbo's Pre-Party

For some reason, Durban Bud insisted that I take this pic.
Drugs Are Bad, M'kay?

Ugh! I hope that my Enochlophobia doesn't flare up again!
The Crowd

Copperred is obviously distracted by some hot, shirtless man while Jimbo is busy representin'.

Say hello to the wallflowers. Maybe they can't dance either?

Isn't this what it's really all about?

Saturday, February 10, 2007

To Play Or Not To Play... That Is The Question

(A book-long blog to yawn over...)

Pool Party Naked!
Tos recently posted this comment on our blog:
"You know you don't need to cruise to be able to take your shirt off in public... In fact I think that is the best thing - taking shirt off and leaving with one's Boo/hubby/SO etc. without feeling the need to pick someone/thing up...

I'm sure I'll be flamed for this comment but many in the blogosphere who think thrupling is just natural and how things should be in the gay comm. but eh, I'm from New England and a prickly bastard with a big mouth... ;-)"
Tos' comment got me to thinking. Is there a kind of peer pressure for gay couples to engage this kind of thing? Or, is thrupling the natural thing? Rest assured, Tos, I won't flame you, because I don't really think that thrupling is the natural thing. At least in my life it isn't. Everyone is different though and everyone needs to do what is best for them. I can be, have been in the past and probably will be in the future interested in other men even though I am in a long-term, committed relationship. A relationship in which, from time to time, we have gotten it on with other guys. But, I don't think that I will ever feel the need or desire to add a third man permanently or even semi-permanently to our relationship.

The Facts:

Let's face it, we are a horny bunch of monkeys and our sexuality is most often stimulated by that which is new and exciting. That is why we are so curious most of the time. While most gay men are in agreement that our attraction to other men is a natural thing, we don't really hold a great track record for long lasting relationships with each other. Men, gay or straight, are naturally programmed to blow their loads and move on. The cohabitation thing, in my opinion, really stems from the females of the species' maternal instinct of starting a family, having kids and providing for them. Throughout history, however, gay relationships didn‘t get much of a chance to develop because they had to be hidden, so there is no basis in our minds of what a man on man gay relationship is really supposed to be. So, a lot of our thinking about what a relationship or marriage is comes from tragically straight Mom and Dad. What works for a man and a woman though does not necessarily work for a man and a man. Why, you may ask? (Start at the top of this paragraph and read in a loop until you get it.)

How Can It Really Work Then? Don't Rock The Boat.

You have to set some rules. Sometimes, even that can't harness this often uncontrollable urge. You can try to model your relationship after a straight marriage, but I don't really think that we are biologically supposed to cohabitate since our brains and dicks are just naturally always after some new conquest. Because we humans can think though, we sometimes try to conquer nature. Just like Bubala can mow my lawn, he can also try to adapt to living with me. The grass will always grow back, and there will always be fuckin' hot men that will turn my head. Same thing with Bubala. There will always be hot men that will turn his head too. I prefer to vacuum though.

So, the usual scenario is man meets man, they fall in love and decide to live together and share a life together. Things are wonderful in man-love-land until some time down the road, (the length of time varies from couple to couple) one or both of them start to look outside of their relationship. They see everyone else fucking around and having fun and they are stuck with each other. The sex isn't as hot as it used to be. They aren't as young as they used to be, and they aren't getting younger. They need some reassurance that they can still get some fresh meat after being off the market for so long. So, a decision has to be made. Do they split up even though they still love each other a lot? Or, do they start getting it on with other dudes? And, if they open their sexual realtionship up to other men, are they going to be able to deal with the various problems that can arrise from that?

What Problems You Ask?


What if one of you really falls in love with him?
What if he really falls for one of you?
What if he sucks cock better than either one of you?
What if he is hot, young, hairy and muscular and you are not, old, hairy and flabby?

The Health Issues:

Do you know where he's been?
Do you know where his dick has been?
Do you know what he's got?
Do you want to bring that into your relationship?

Or the even bigger question: Will he be the psycho trick that just won't go away? Also, you have to beware of the unhappy single guy who sees what you have and is so envious that he tries to make waves in your relationship. Gay guys love high drama. Proceed with caution.

Can you and you boyfriend deal with all of this?

Mumi's Most Awesome Advice:

Resist the temptation you filthy, little monkeys! And, if at last you finally do succumb to the idea that fooling around is inevitable, then you might just realize that maybe it is only natural for gay men in long-term relationships to do this in order for their relationships to survive. And, for those of you single guys out there, please don't judge us because we are the ones who are putting the effort and time of our lives into these relationships rather than still searching for Mr. Right or running away from Mr. Potential or just fucking Mr. Right Now.

As for myself, which is only one half of my relationship. I'm more attracted to aspects of people's personalities rather than the super hot guy who often times turns out to have no personality and is a bit of an asshole. We try to get to know where someone is coming from before doing anything nasty. Maybe go out to dinner or just hang out. I also look for guys who will respect that there is a relationship going on here. Someone who knows that he's not just tricking with some single guys. I really take my relationship with Bubala very seriously, and it is much more important to me than sex. So, my need for a little extra icing on the cake isn't all that great.

With a hottie like Bubala, with his 8.5 rating on the rate a rod scale, you won't hear me complaining! Well, only because 8.5 is not just a rating, it's also a measurement. (Gag!) Besides, finding guys to get it on with is so much work and effort even when you're flying solo. But, it's twice as hard when you're in a relationship. And, despite what anyone may think, we have a lousy track record at picking up guys because, for some reason, everyone is very intimidated by us. (I'm also a mean bastard.) They look a lot, but they look away even more.

Tos, you will be happy to know that whether I take my shirt off or not, I always leave with my Bubala, and that is just fine with me too.

Friday, February 09, 2007

Please Tell Me I'm Not The Only One...

...who doesn't give a rat's ass that Anna Nicole Smith dropped dead yesterday.

Anna Nicole DimwitAs I logged on to the Internet today, I see the headline on Yahoo! that says, "Why we cared about Anna: She persevered when others would have given up."

Of course she persevered. She tried and tried and tried to steal all of that old, dead man's money. What the hell else was she going to do?!? Get a job as Chief Of Complicated Surgery at Johns Hopkins? Me thinks not!

Anna Nicole Smith was only good at gold-digging, flashing her tits and being a vapid, drugged out, sometimes voluptuous, sometimes all porked out, annoying redneck. I can't really say that I cared for her at all.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Consumer Reports

PlasmaLiquid Crab Display
I need a little help here, guys. I am very seriously considering a new television purchase. What I need to know is should I go with Plasma or LCD? I am totally clueless about both!

Which do you prefer?
Which will last longer?
How long will each last?
Which needs more repairs?
Which has a better picture?
What size should I get?
Which one will my porno DVD's look better on?

Inquiring minds want to know...


Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Absolutely Dumbfounded

I thought that I was wrong. But, a quick check on the old Internet assured me that I was correct. SPCA is in fact an acronym for The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

Well, I just happen to know an animal whose owners are extremely cruel. The poor dog next door has just about the worst owners I have ever had the displeasure of living next door to. They leave their dog outside all of the time.

Those 10 or 12 degree nights we've been having lately. No problem. Let that dog stay outside and freeze all night. When they leave in the morning to go to work and to school. No problem. Just lock the dog in the shed with the bikes and the lawn mower. Snowstorm last night? No problem. Just chain her up to a bike in the back yard with no shelter, no food, no water, while they stay out all frickin' night!

What nasty, nasty shit ball people!

Anyway, I thought that I would be a good little citizen and report the mis-treatment of the dog to the SPCA. (The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) Well, imagine my shock when I read the following on the SPCA Website:

"The Maryland SPCA does not investigate animal neglect or cruelty."

Um, ex-squeeze me? Baking powder? WTF?!? The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals does not investigate animal neglect or cruelty?


Apparently, I have to contact my local animal control office to lodge a complaint. Great... just great! I have already dealt with them concerning the eternal barking from the neglected dog next door and I have not been at all impressed with their "help."

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Penis Envy

The Happy Little PenisBecause I am a totally perverted exhibitionist...

Because I am desperate for attention...

Because I love it when people stare at my nekkid' nether regions...

Out of shear boredom, one night I posted a pic of my "rod" on Rate-a-Rod.com. (No, clicking on the link will not take you to said pic. I hid it well. If you want to find it, you'll really have to search.)

Anyway, I was getting some really good feedback on my tool. In fact, a lot of people were really rating it quite highly. My average score was like 8.5 or something like that. I was flattered, honored, thrilled, and titillated all at the same time.

I guess that my high scoring hunk of man-meat must have upset some ugly, tiny-dicked, bridge troll somewhere out there, because all of a sudden, when I logged in to check my rating today, it had dropped significantly. Someone out there had submitted a whole bunch of 1.0 votes against my pecker! (Talk about deflating my ego, geesh!)

Not that I think that he's Mr. Universe or anything like that, but I certainly think that my bone should rank a little higher than a 1.0 in anyone's book. He's a really nice one. So, I've been told.

So, I did what any egotistical, self absorbed, concerned cock connoisseur would do. I tried to give myself a whole bunch of 10.0 votes to even things out. Of course, it didn't work since I was trying to send all of the votes from the same computer. It only counted one of my votes! D'oh! That's one smart dick ratin' Website. Fer sure!

I guess now that only time will tell whether or not my wiener will be a winner. I will have to wait and see what the fate of my staff shall be. All that really matters though is that I still love him, no matter what. Even if he is only a 1.0 to some jealous meanie, meanie bo-beanie, he will always be my special little 7.5. (Give or take a 0.5.)

Monday, February 05, 2007

I'm Not Really Gay. I'm An "Anti-Reproductionist."

Ugly Baby!
That's right. You heard it here first. I am coming out as an "Anti-Reproductionist." Someone who refrains from engaging in the act of reproduction because, like other Anti-Reproductionists:
  1. I think that it is a cruel and selfish thing to bring unsuspecting souls into this harshly evil environment and then force them to conform to a set of standards in order fulfill my own sick need for "having it all."
  2. I think that reproductionists often tend to be careless and reproduce at an alarming rate. Often times exceeding what they can actually financially support or even take care of.
  3. The idea of engaging in the act of reproduction makes me physically ill. I prefer to refrain from cohabitating in a reproductionary relationship.
As an adopted child, I have had a lot of time to think about this. (40 years!) I couldn't understand it at first because everyone tells you that all children are created out of love by their Mommy and Daddy, (and a little wave of the magic wand from God) when in fact humans are really just a bunch of filthy pig, sex whores who can't stop fucking each other no matter what the outcome. As a result, a lot of us aren't brought here by love, but by lust. Just dirty, fucking lust. Isn't that one of God's pet peeves? Oh, doesn't it just give you warm fuzzies to have origins like that? So, after accepting that I am really just the result of a reproductionist's careless fuck, (they could not have thought it through all that much if they put me up for adoption, could they?) I took a vow onto myself to never bring another soul into this horribly, mean, evil world. Even if I was thinking about the outcome.

Haven't I had a few careless fucks myself? NEVER IF IT GAVE LIFE OR TOOK IT AWAY! That's one of my pet peeves.

Being that this was my choice, I realized that I had to hide my Anti-reproductionality because I knew that I would just not be accepted for having these atypical, deeply rooted anti-reproductory feelings. I figured that the best way to avoid the whole "you should get a girlfriend" situation in High School was to tell everyone that I was gay. Mom, Dad, family, friends were all told. Then, I went out and found myself a really cute boyfriend and that lasted for four years. When that one was done, I went looking for another one and... well you know how it is. It's kind of like CD shopping. You bring home a lot of music, but there are only a few CDs that you could listen to everyday for the rest of your life. Apparently, Bubala is my favorite CD in the entire Universe. So, for the past 25 years now, I've been trying to pull it off. It hasn't been easy. Imagine having sex with a straight guy and that might describe what it's like with me. YAWN!

That's all over now, because I'm finally coming out as an Anti-Rreproductionist. I encourage everyone to tell those breeders to stop infringing on our space. The next time you encounter a parent with an unruly, out of control child, say to them, "Hey! Are you going to control your wretched, vile offspring, or do I have to?" Then, look at them strangely as if they just took a shit on the floor right next to you. Next time you see a pregnant woman, beat the hell out of her. Yank all of those fetuses right out and make a big pile of them in the park. Then, if you bring some matches, I'll bring some brandy and well make a big bonfire of them. We can roast marshmallows as we free all the poor souls from a life of eternal, conformist damnation living in this slime pit that we affectionately call Earth. (In February nonetheless!) We'll no longer have to live up to a sick sense of expectation fueled by an even sicker need to have it all just like everybody else.

Okay, okay. You might be saying to yourself that if everyone was like me and believed that reproduction was evil, then the human race would just die off because we wouldn't be preserving the species. To that I say take a good look at history then take a good look around you right now. It really is not such a bad idea after all. Is it?

Friday, February 02, 2007

Trash Trio

Bubala, Mumi & John Waters

We decided to try thrupling this Valentine's Day. What do you think of our new stud?

John Waters was gracious enough to pose for a photo with us during an in-store CD signing event tonight to promote new Valentine's Day compilation CD. I would like to think that John would be happy that the photo ended up here on our trashy "Bawlmer" blog!

Where's My Bleeping Snow?!?

What I had hoped to see when I woke up this morning:

What I actually saw when I woke up this morning:

Dry as a bone!
I hate weathermen! They are all a bunch of pompous liars with bad haircuts. I only wish that I could get paid to be wrong all of the time!

Oh yeah, I don't like Punxsutawney Phil either. He's a liar with a bad haircut and an awful overbite.

We now take you back to our regularly scheduled programming...