Okay I have gone through possibly one of the worst weeks of my life. I have buried my Mother and I have come to the realization that once my Father passes away I will be alone. I will be alone if I don't drop this weight because not only 45 is really considered an Octogenarian in the gay life anyone over 180 better have a black Amex card or a Mr. Olympia title; both of which I do not have. I have friends and family say love will find you when you are ready.......FUCK YOU I say to that. I watch people fall in and out of relationships as if they are trying each fit of jeans at the GAP.
I mean you heard the term bear and few years ago you would think of some 40 plus man who enjoys Dungeons and Dragons and attending Star Trek Conventions in Vulcan garb ( you see Vulcans are the intelligent species). I now see bears who are built like brick shit houses and look as if they are the West Hollywood butch crowd (if that is even possible). I know nothing more humiliating than a person seeing photos of you from let say 20 odd years ago and them asking what happened. What happened was DEPRESSING DECADES of trolling the seedy sides of the City of Brotherly Love.
I love when my friends want to fix me up with a friend and their friend looks a little bit better than Bruce Villanch. I seething only can force a smile and say I like being alone. The nature of the beast and when I say beast I mean Men is that of perfection. I see perfection portrayed in the gay community as 170lbs 32waist and overly bleached teeth and a tanning bed tan that would make George Hamilton cringe along with a 9 inch penis. Well hell in the straight world lets just say Pamela Anderson. I see my future bleak when it comes to romance unless I make this blog into a one man show or put it into book form and it gets awesome reviews . I have always feared getting old ever since seeing BOYS IN THE BAND when I was about 15 in Wisconsin.
I see men my age on gay dating sites that want guys between 18-30 and must be thin to athletic or lets just say Moby or a Jersey Shore cast member. It seems men my age that are with men of their age seem to be those gay stereotypical white collar Stepford Husbands. I love the fact that MODERN FAMILY has portrayed the average looking couple but yet they are the typical piano bar queens with lots of money.
I seethe at the thought of not finding love until my 50's or 60's when it seems like you have come to the end of the yellow brick road and it is time for eternal rest in that glorious poppy field with your Yorkie and your empty dance card and an empty bottle of lube from the 90's and a book of phone numbers with faceless names. I will lay in that field with other lonely men who never had that chance and their will be the overwhelming silence except for the occasional playing of Peggy Lee's IS THAT ALL THERE IS. It is at this time a nice bottle of Valium and Stoli would come in handy. I would swallow that Garland cocktail and fall into a blissful coma and find myself back in the heyday of the Saint or Paradise Garage with my desired looks and a much improved self esteem. Maybe just maybe love could find its way to this individual before the Mayan calendar runs its course and I am left standing at the foot of a 1000 foot wave as it overtakes this lovely city of Philadelphia. Oh well I guess I have more Bruce Villanch clones to be introduced too. I have come to master that smile that says thank you but underneath is wishing you a swift and violent death.
Well all I can say is" Fiddle De Dee tomorrow is another day of loneliness" .
The Life and Musings of an Angry Gay Male in the world of Pronouns, Millennials and the Trump Administration.
Hunny, at least Bruce Vilanch is witty and employed. Sometimes you find love in the oddest of places. Sometimes, we have to adjust our thinking. Negativity just brings you down and down. You are alive dear and are capable of changing your tomorrow. Nothing is as bad as you make it to be--if you want.
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