PRIDE! In the Name of Lube-and some 'Pot Chronicle's'

OK So Pride fest was this weekend in Portland. And I realized... that I do not think I have ever seen a 'Pride Parade' before....I know huh...I just keep rolling with the bad gay man image. Of course... I have been to numerous events and festivals. BUT OH WELL! More about that in a moment.
The weekend was off to an alright start. Friday was horrid with all the rain...but by the evening it started to clear up a bit and I was able to emerge from the house. So I walked around a bit to verify that the Seadogs game had indeed been canceled and for sure there would be no fireworks. And that sucked. I like to sit on the porch and watch the fireworks. I did on a happy note get a call from 'Sunshine'. Sunshine had several weeks ago kicked me to the curb with an Email that offered me no explanation. I figured it was because I had never called him and wished him a happy mother's day! But none the less it was nice to hear from him.
Saturday I wake up to my usual annoyances. The birds. Even with the unlimited smokes in my pocket I still found my self wanting to run out side and smash the birds with my pot. Even though I know it is not their fault. It is actually one of the guy's upstairs fault. And I decide it should be him that gets bashed with the pot. Not the birds. For it is him that sits at his window and tosses whole pieces of bread spread with peanut butter down from his window for the birds to fight over. Of course they have to fight over whole pieces of bread. That is why a considerate person would break the bread into pieces so that all the fucking chirping birds can get some. And not fight over it. Yes so maybe It should be this old mans peanut butter- bread spreading knuckles I should be smashing with my heavy sauce pot. Not the birds! Of course it was time for coffee. After my water is done boiling I carefully prepare the beans that will be ground this morning. It will consist of 2 pinches of Arabic beans, same of Columbia beans, and then only 2 flavored beans of blueberry cobbler New England Coffee. Just the right hint of blueberry. Perfect for a pressed cup of coffee! I used to be intimidated to run the grinder this early in the AM as it sounds like small air planes are landing on the counter. But now I really don't give a fuck! I push that button with evil fury. And I hope it is pissing off the birds. And who ever else may fucking hear it. After some coffee and cigarette's I decided to do a bit of reading. This before I would get the day started. I had a plan. There was another break in the rain and I wanted to go around the corner to the Farmers Market they have on Saturdays at Deering Oaks. I was sure it was the same folks who set up in Monument Square on Wends days...But I never get a chance to stop. Though, I always manage to catch a sign at one stand that reads 'ECONOMY HERBS'. So I needed to see what that was about. Then determine if maybe this was the solution to getting the fresh oregano I desire with only .5" leaves. I am rather fussy about the size of oregano leaves and I need to find some that are 'just so'!. Before I left I knew I needed to prepare. I always bring my k nap sack with me. But. I was concerned that should I find the right oregano...they might need protection. I pondered what I could use to transport them and keep them safe from being crushed by anything else. I thought about the Glad plastic things...with lids...but final choice was to bring my pot with me. It is nice heavy sauce pan with tight fitting lid. I knew this was risky. Especially with the thoughts I have had of smashing people with it. I justified it with the ideal thing to transport the herbs. Plus+++ I recently posted an ad on craigslist to have the pot photographed. I need to do some graphic overlays on a photo of the pot. Since I am not a good photographer. And my finger always manages to show up in the photo's I take. I thought it would be a perfect job for an art student. And with that I packed the pot into my k nap sack. And head off the the farmers market.

After I get done poking around the market disappointed in 'Economy Herbs'. I decide I will head east over to Forest Ave and cut across to Hannaford. I was running low on Italian Sweet Creme'.
So I may as well get some while I am out. On the way there I was approached by a nice looking young man who claimed he had an invitation. He handed me a flyer that said I was invited to go and see Morton Bustard speak!! Oh Yippee I thought. I can't wait. I tossed the paper in to my k nap Sack. As not to litter. But no more then 4 minutes later I am approached by 2 dapper looking young ladies. They are clad with matching suits and skirts. And I wonder how good this could get. From a few feet away I could see they had name tags. And I immediately dismissed them as local Burger King managers. But that was not so. The closer they got they both extended their hands for a friendly shake. Of course I...being the germ a phobic freak that I am declined and instead replaced my curious look with a gleaming smile. Upon a closer look of the name tags I learn they are representatives of the Church of Ladder Day Saints. And I instantly felt the rush flow through my body. I could not even listen to what they were saying. I was so consumed with why this stuff happens to me. And how I was going to deal with it. How could it be? Two religious encounters in a matter of minutes. Could life get any better then this?

"Do the Mormons have a church in Portland?" I ask with fierce jab. "No, it is in Biddeford." replies the nice short girl of the two. "Oh!" I grin my evilest grin "So you have been sent to the gay pride event to canvas and recruit?" I hold my index finger over my lips waiting for the answer. And the question was very cleverly thwarted. And they proceeded to tell me of the church. I think. I did not really hear a word. I was far to busy with the conversation in my head. I knew I had to divide the conversation I was having with myself. So this is how I decide to handle this...I was so excited by this I was sure I had a boner. Only because this shit happens to me! And right at this point. I look at both of my shoulders. One at a time. And then again. "I do not know that I would make a good member of your church!" I speak quick and abrupt. "And there are a few reasons for this...One is that I have a date in an hour with the Gay Pride fest at the park there. And the other reason would be the 2 devils I have with me. One on each shoulder. This is Dick and this is Licker. Dick! is yelling in my ear to stand here and continue to patronize you two lovely ladies. But! Licker! is begging me to withdraw the very heavy pot I have here in my K nap sack and chase you into the park with it!" Of course the two dapper young ladies rushed off towards the park. I was hoping they were not going to go and canvas the
Pride Fest. In my crazy glorious way I also hoped I put the fear of GAYS in them. And Off I waltzed to Hannaford for my tasty cream. Dick and Licker both at my side! I think I will let them tag along for the day.

Meanwhile, back at the digs. I am looking in the mirror at my self. I wonder if I should shave. Maybe even apply some Paul Mitchell gels into my wavy hair. This is after all Pride Fest I was heading to. And I was hoping to network. Or at the very least get a dinner date. I did not shave or apply gel. I put on my favorite T-shirt and Shorts. Packed a hat and jacket in my sack. ( never know when it's gonna fucking rain around here) Right next to the pot. Surely there would be active photographer's at the fest. Surely one of them would photograph my pot.

When I first arrived back at the park it was nice and quiet. Several little booths with all sorts of information and knowledge was to be had. And to my delight...most of them were giving away free things. I was enjoying collecting the freebies...so far I had a red plastic bracelet that lied out loud saying I had quit smoking. It was not hard for me to tell them my recent battle with quitting smoking. At one point I wanted to show them my pot...that I often desired to bash thing and yes even people with. But something stopped me. So off to the next booth I went sporting my new bright red lying bracelet. How fun this was. All this free stuff. Next I got one of the aluminum water bottles that is supposed to be the next big eco friendly thing....DO NOT BUY BOTTLED WATER ANY MORE!! Use this!! Ok Fine. I love mine it is purple and filled with additional gifts. I was almost excited. Then more water bottles. All different colors. Filled with condoms, lube samples and literature. The only water bottle I refused was the one from Band of America. I detest the raping institution they are and was appalled that they were sponsoring such and event. So now my k nap sack was over flowing with things. I think I was pretty much done around here.

Just then I looked across the pond and up towards State St. And there it was. The parade was coming. Oh gee I thought and dashed over to get a better view. As I waited I was once again approached by someone...this time...to get my endorsement to gay marriage in Maine. "Do you support the recent efforts ..... ?" she asked me. I was not really sure if I should lie or not. So I looked for Dick and Licker. They were just smoking on each of my shoulders. "Yes I think it is fabulous" I lied. "Oh great" she smiled and then asked for continued support as well as my name and email. Then she gave me a big round sticker to place on my chest so that I would not be approached again. Of course I like this idea. Although, I could not stop moving the sticker from place to place because it just annoyed me. I eventually chose my sack to put it on. The Parade came. I was unimpressed. I could not believe the size of the Pride flag they carried. It had to be a half mile long. I did not care for this much attention to being gay. I felt I wanted leave then. But not until I watched the funny fat man sing badly rehearsed songs by Donna Summer. It was comical to say the least. Even though It hurt my ears. Just as I was about to call it a day. Something amazing transpired. I saw a man with three cameras. Thats right 3 of them hanging around his neck and shoulders. I could only see him from behind. He was taking pictures of to girls painted gold posing still hugging on a toadstool. Perfect I thought. He must be a professional.
Lets see if we can't get this pot photographed once and for all. As I walked towards him prepared to tap him on the shoulder...he turned his head to the left. I knew the profile. It took but a second...IT WAS HIM!!! "Oh this is just to good to be true!!!" said Dick and licker in Harmony!!
It was the Famous worldly photographer that I had my date with back in April...IT WAS the fucking food addict in recovery!!!! (If this means nothing to you you will have to go back and read this blog So it Goes <<Aquafina Hydrating Lip Oil.
Now it also included a bunch of rubbers and some Jose Lube samples.....
(I linked both of those products so you could see the similarity...)

I decided then to return some calls....one being my favorite gay superhero who recently made a huge move from Atlanta to NYC. I was curious how he was making out looking for new digs and if he was happy he made the journey. While we were chatting I reached into the collection bowl. And grabbed what I thought was my Lip Oil. I opened it up...and started the application on my lips. It was awful WET!!! It was the lube. I tried rubbing it in...but it only made the whole area around my mouth dripping wet with lube. So I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel and attempted again to remove the lubrication. All the while still on the phone. It kind of worked...but now it was insanely sticky!!! And me and sticky do not go hand in hand. At this point I knew the only remedy was going to be a full blown hot steamy shower to get rid of it. But I don't get a chance to get my buddy on the phone that often so I had to stick it out. And my only solution was to get rid of the stickiness was to apply more lube until I finished the phone call. And when the phone call finished a while later I sat there looking out the window. "Great!" I said to Dick and Licker. "ALL lubed up and no where to GO!"
In to the shower I went!

A world with Deafness.

I am just feeling politically motivated at the moment. I have been reading a lot about what people with profound deafness go through. And I found the following to be my kind of Humor.

Dear Deaf Employee,

You are sadly mistaken and I pray you never encounter the prejudice I have faced. Your pride will go before your fall. A deaf person can work hard and do a job just as good as the person next to them even better, but come crunch time and a company has to make a decision about who to let go bye bye deaf person. For 10 years I was doing the same job and then bam transferred, then let go, hey no problem my skill set will get me another job 200 applications and 50 interviews later, with slanted questions like “how will you answer the phone”, I am not applying for an operator position, but a technician. “How will you know when the test is done”, I’m deaf not blind the test flashes a light as well as rings a bell and the computer indicates finished. Well we’re sorry but it would be a safety hazard in our environment. One year later in a failing economy and no prospects in sight SSDI was approved but every year we kept trying to get a job, that was 15 years ago. Without SSDI we would have lost everything. So get off your high horse just because you have an employer who can look past your disablility. Yes that is right deafness in a hearing culture is a disablitity. Contrary to popular belief it does not make one lazy. My output was double that of my co-workers. God bless you.

Launguage Barrier combined with a day from Hell!

Believe it or not. I am horrible at delivering jokes. Yep I really am. Most of the time I can't ever even remember one to tell. But there is one that I never forget. It has always stuck with me. I will attempt it right here right now.
A Guy hires 3 other guys to work in his coal mine. One Italian One German and One Chinese Fella.
He instructs the Italian that he is responsible for loading the coal in the cart. The German must see to it that the cart makes it to the surface of the mine. The Chinese Fella is in charge of supplies. After a few good days of hard work the owner comes to tell them all what a great job they are doing but the Chinese guy is no where to be found. The Italian and German both shrug as to his where abouts. So they head further down into the mine to try and find him. Just as they turn a dark corner the Chinese Fella Jumps out of the shadows...."SUPLIZE!"
Ok its bad. But you see why I like it? And you know where I am going with this.

So. Yesterday...(Thursday the 11th of June) I was struggling to stay sane after a second night of not being able to sleep. I finally got up from my bed around 6am furious and flustered. I decided to pass on a coffee. And instead sipped at a diet 7up. Around 7am I decided to head off to my favorite little market in the center of Portland to get some food for the week. The carts in this particular store are awkward. They are basically a carry basket affixed to 4 wheels with a rack on the bottom. It really is a small market. SO. I scurried about the market I bent down to grab a bottle of Sweet Baby Rays BBQ.
As I bent over I whacked my head on the corner of the end cap. "Fuck" I whimpered. Now I was really in a bad mood. But I thought nothing more of my forehead. Well for the next minute I noticed people staring at me. And naturally I took a silent defense. 'What the fuck are these fuckers looking at' I wondered. Then I tossed my curly bangs back in disgust with my hand. Basically my way of saying FUCK OFF. To all the people giving me horrid looks. When I realized that my hand returned with a large amount of blood on it. So I felt my forehead again sure enough it was covered in blood. Oh Now I know why people are looking at me funny!!
I approached a seemingly nice little Somalian woman who was wearing the apron that indicated she was employed there. "Exuse me, may I please have a paper towel I seem to have caught my head on an endcap?" I asked with a charming smile. Despite the blood that is now dripping off the tip of my nose that I dare not touch for fear of staining my shirt. "Oh Oh OHHHH" she said with a very well defined accent. I waited about 10 more seconds for the response I was looking for or at least a point in the right direction. It never arrived. I then hold my hand out much like the same fashion as Sophia on the Golden Girls. "EX CUUZE EMWA DO YOU GOT A PAPAH TOWILL IN THA I CAN BLOT SOME BLOOOD WIT?" I was sounding a bit demanding then. But damned if she didn't say "OH OH OHHHHH OVA Ear PAPAH TOWILL!" She then ran over and pointed to a roll of Paper towels. "Ear Ear Ear" she cried. I then waltzed over and ripped a few off to blot my bloody head and at this point face. I knew that it was hopeless at this point and that my entire face was now blood stained regardless of how dry it was at this point. But I grabbed my cart and marched about on my merry way to finish shopping. And despite the awkward looks I received. I managed to wrap it up. But not with out wondering... 'What would cause me to speak to someone in such a manner?' Am I so impatient that I would totally disfigure my speech to obtain something that I need? What the fuck just happened? And on the way home I thought long and hard about this. I needed a modest answer. This is what I remembered.

I think I was about 19. I was with my mother and for some reason she was driving. We stopped off at the little produce market that is (or used to be...I don't know if it still is) attached to the Laundromat that is across from WAWA and Plymouth Park in Conshy. For some reason I decided to go in with her. She just needed to get a few things. When it was her turn to pay I stood next to her and the oriental cashier says, "Sue Dolla". My mother gives me a quick glance as she reached into her pocketbook. I remember she had that certain look in her eye. She held up the money in question as of 'how much'. "Sue Dolla" he repeats. "TWO DOLLARS?" my mother asks. "Sue Dolla" he says as he nods yes. Just as my mother was to hand him the $2. She with drew her money. "Two Dollarsz" my mother sounded out. "T T T T TWWOO DOOOLARZ"
She again corrected him. At this point I was headed for the door. As I exited I heard her again "T T T T T...." Eventually she made it back in the car. I gave her the look. "What the hell wass that all about?" I asked. "How the HELL am I supposed to know what the hell SUe Dolla is!" she yelled. I did not respond.
As I thought more about that senerio. I remembered others. But even more I remembered what it was like EVERY TIME SHE WENT SHOPPING as I was growing up. It never failed. I always ended up in the car tooting the horn as she stood at the exit chatting away to someone she has not seen in 20 years. And the more I thought about it. I then realized this may be the cause for my Cambell's Soup Commercial Syndrome that you have heard me refer to before. Of course I didn't know what it was called back then. But now that I have had the proper diagnosis I can refer to it as the above mentioned syndrome.

I then remembered back in Bridgeport 1997 League Collegiate Wear. And A Colleague of mine Barb. Barb was a very Sassy Irish Lady. But also very charming in her own way. She didn't take anyone's shit. And soon you will see that I mean that literally. There were also...in the Embroidery Department. A few people working directly from India that did not speak a lick of English. And when you talked to them all they did was shake their head yes or no. Even if you were not looking for one of those answers. This used to really get Barbs goat. And she often resorted to the same thing I did earlier. She would raise her hand like Sophia. "You AVE TO MUST SIGN DA PAPAH WOORRK AFTA YOU DONE WIT DIS" It was a constant battle with her. And her frustration became more and more apparent. I then remembered one of the funniest things that I could not believe I forgot.
One Day. I heard the power washer going in the back of the facility. I knew that there was no reason for it to be running. So I take a walk back to investigate. I thought I was going to find that someone had fucked up in burning a screen or something and was hoping that I would not catch them. But to my SUPLIZE. It was Barb There she stood at the entrance to the bathroom in a pair of goggles with her hair blowing back spraying down the entire bathroom with a fucking pressure washer. I poked her and she shut it off. I asked her what the fuck was going on. "Look!" she exclaimed. " The Indians seem to not want to flush their shitty toilet paper and they have taken to throwing in the waste can or the floor. I come in here there is shit smeared all over the place" I look at her with alarm. I peek in. And she does not hesitate to point out a few smears to me. To this I walk away. But the next day she again does not hesitate to bring this matter up at the bi-daily production meeting. "How do you think we should handle this?" I ask in a muffled laugh. And soon the rest of the people sitting at the meeting started to laugh. Everyone but Barb. "I think we should hang signs up" she offers. And we all laugh again. But not Barb. She was serious. "OK then we will!" And I look at the graphic guy and ask him to bring some sign ideas to the next meeting. "Fair Enough!" he smiles.

The Next meeting before anything got under way Barb inquired about the signs. So the graphic guy with a certain smirk on his face pulls out to sign idea's. One is a 'Yes' sign that has a drawing of a stick figured man squatting over the toilet dropping his soiled toilet paper into the toilet under his stick figured ass. The other is a 'No' sign that has a stick figured man standing before the toilet dropping the soiled toilet paper into the trash can. The entire table laughed so hard at this we never even were able to complete the meeting. But not Barb. She thought it was great and immediately took possession of the yes and no signs very anxious to get them hung.

THis memory made me laugh equally as hard. And I remembered my influence for speaking to the nice little lady in the market that morning. Good ole' Barb!! I wonder if she is on Facebook!!

I have lost the battle with Chantix..All that and a Bag of Teeth!

So I tried my best to quit smoking with the help of Chantix
It was an OK experience. I especially enjoyed the VERY vivid dreams.
The first night I was so excited about my dreams that I actually got up
and moved my bed into the middle of my room. I was terrified that I would bang
my head on the wall or even swing my arms a bit to hard on the walls.
BUT...the day time pills where not as exciting. I still found my dark desires
very much present. At one point I was eying up the mail man on my porch.
I wondered if he had a pack of smokes in one of his many pockets. I somehow knew
he was a smoker. So. I grabbed my heaviest frying pan and stood behind the window.
I thought if I bashed him on the neck just right. I could knock him out for just enough time to
frisk him for his cigarettes.
At another point I had found my way upstairs at one of the guys door up there. I had gone
there with the intention of demanding a cigarette. Until he smiled. His Teeth where gone. I asked him what the hell happened. And to my horridness he smiled again! I had to blink and breathe and make sure I was not in a 'vivid dream'. I was not. "SteveO, what the fuck happened to your teeth?" I screamed. Then My phone rang. It was my mother. For sure I was dreaming. But only then did SteveO withdraw a plastic bag filled with his teeth. ALL OF HIS TEETH!! I could barely conduct the conversation with my mother and still listen to my new toothless 26 year old neighbor ramble on about having all of his teeth yanked out. I was sure this was a dream. But only until my mother demanded full attention on the phone. Then she asked me if I had looked in his mouth. I don't think she understood. So in all my horror. I stepped out of SteveO's apartment to wrap up the conversation with my mother. "You know how I live for these things MAh!" I said. And we said our good byes. Back in SteveO's I go. "Dude, WHY OH WHY would you do that to all of your teeth and what dentist LET you at such a young age???" I demanded an answer. He just stood there and smiled at me. With no teeth. And I must say I could not hear a word he said. I was just staring at his vacant mouth. In utter disgust. I later learned this is a procedure that drug addicts will have done. For the Pain Pill's!!! Thats right! They sacrifice all of their nice white young teeth for fucking pain pills...Why not just let the bus run over your foot???

At any rate...I knew I had to give in to the yearning of a cigarette when I was in Freeport this past weekend at the LLBean Fest. I was taking an Awesome Kayak for a test drive. All the while wishing I had the $1700.00 to purchase it. I was in my own little world. SO pleasant. Not thought of cigarettes. Just my humble little oar. And my favorite smell of seaweed at low tide.
Until I approached by a child in her little Kayak. Yes it was actually designed for the little bitchy rug rat. Exclusive just for her. They were taking her picture. Several people surrounded her in the water taking pictures of her. And I became furious. And I looked at her pretty little smile and felt bashing it in with my oar and the coming in with a left jab on the other end of the oar.
UGGG
As I left Freeport. I stopped at a Mobile. And bought a pack of Camel Filters for 9 fucking dollars. Later I will take the Chantix and post it on Craigslist at a much reduced price. And with that money I will buy many packs of cigarettes.

I gave it a try. I failed. I am quitter. Just not of quitting smoking. I do not think I am ready yet. As much as I should be.

Ok So Next up...Prolly the beginning of next week. An Exclusive peak into MVOCS. I have been reluctant to do this on the blog...but since it shares the same name. What the fuck. Last week I made the lobster pizza. And of course every time I cook in the kitchen comes another episode of "My Very Own Cooking Show". This particular one I though would be good debut sort of sneak peek into the concept of MVOCS. So you can see what it is all about. And Maybe build up a bit of hype. This particular episode with the lobster pizza turned out to be a riot. And it has VERY Special Guest. So Get ready!! It's a Good thing!!!

Over and Out!

Joel