Disclosure in Mississippi usually involves counseling a dude through the five stages of grief.
Last night a Marc Jacobs look-alike with a caesar haircut messaged me on OKCupid to tell me that he wanted to fuck. I was flattered but occupied, probably getting ready for bed by brushing my hair 100 times and reciting scripture. Ignoring handsome men is a really valuable technique because they’re usually not prepared for it and it doesn’t take very long for them to get desperate and up the stakes to get your attention. About an hour after his first message–right on schedule–”Marc” messaged again, this time sweetening the deal a little: “I really want my head between your legs. I have a really big hoop in my schlong.” I responded approvingly and–because he hadn’t actually read my profile–he asked if I wanted to meet him at his apartment in Brooklyn.
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“I believe that Newark should be a just community.”
I had the pleasure of sitting down with Mayor Cory A. Booker, one of the most popular politicos in the US. Our conversation focused on a topic that is often overshadowed, if not wholly ignored, within mainstream media outlets reporting on the Mayor’s tenure and issues of concern within the city of Newark, NJ
Newark has been cast into the national spotlight with its appearance in Sundance Channel’s documentary series, Brick City, and as the location where Mark Zuckerberg invested $100 million in educational reform from his Facebook fortune. Yet, there is much more to know about New Jersey’s largest city, especially as it relates to the many remarkable strides that have been made on behalf of the LGBTQ community in Newark.
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What homosexuals need are not more and more ways to pretend that we matter, but fewer and fewer occasions to acknowledge the world that real people constantly try and drag us into.
What a terrible, confusing couple of days this has been for homosexuals living in America! Between the rope-a-dope situation presented and then played out by North Carolina’s Proposition One campaign and the stamp of approval President Obama subsequently graced us all with, I can understand why so many of you seem so unhinged. Things are more like they are now than they ever were before.
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Gay people are fitting themselves into a dysfunctional box in order to win approval
President Obama’s endorsement of marriage rights for same-sex couples gives us a moment to reflect on what lesbian, gay and bisexual people have had to do to win this recognition. We’re all sophisticated enough to know that oppressed minorities don’t just achieve basic rights because the dominant group has an epiphany. On the contrary, LGB people, like others who came before them have to go through (or seem to go through) assimilative transformations in order to become acceptable enough to the heterosexual majority to be considered for equal legal rights.
In its origins, the Gay Liberation movement arose to change society, to expand rigid gender roles, to break down confining social mores of privatized families and to defy the consumerism that accompanies monogamy and nuclear family lifestyle in the United States. It stood for sexual expression based on consensual desires, and community based relationships in tandem with monogamous and non-monogamous couples.
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Unfortunately, queer ladies find nothing more annoying than someone else being the highest of femmes in the room.
As the bar was closing after a recent birthday bender, a fifty-year-old transgender man whom I had never met before offered to take me next door to Dunkin Donuts — his treat. He bought me a kruller, and demanded the scrawny teen behind the counter produce a birthday candle to insert into it. “You deserve the best,” he explained.
You are probably thinking, “what a lovely surprise.” But while it was lovely, it wasn’t a surprise. At least, not for me.
Throughout my queer adult life, I’ve regularly had watered-down well whiskey and bottles of Miller High Life sent to me by transmasculine fellows whom I don’t know. Once, a well-dressed dandy offered me a bus swipe when I was low on change, while on another besotted occasion an OKCupid date paid my part of the cab fare home, even though I threw up out the window a little.
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