currylove

Posts Tagged ‘gay

I finally saw Magic Mike today… I want my $9 and two hours back. HOLY HELL. How could a movie about hot strippers be so… boring? Lame? Stupid??

It turned out to be half-“Wall Street” and half-“Pretty Woman.”  Neither of which I was expecting. I don’t want my strippers to have feelings or thoughts. I WANTED NUDITY. LOTS OF IT. That is what strippers do:  STRIP THEIR FUCKING CLOTHES OFF.

Instead, I got a morality tale of why you shouldn’t sell or do drugs, and a lame “love” story.  Also, I lived in Tampa for a few years — nobody looks like the people in this movie, they’re all fat in real life.  And, Mike’s place in the movie? WORTH MILLIONS. You’re telling me a stripper can afford beachfront property? Um no. I’ll suspend disbelief for some things, but not THAT.

There’s a male strip club here in town (full nudity), which caters to the gay crowd and can be downright hostile to girls walking in on their own. They apparently believe women won’t tip as well… wonder if this stupid movie will change their mind? Also, they usually keep their socks and shoes on.  Do you know how odd it is to see a guy take of all his clothes, except the things that should come off first? And, no velcro tear-away pants. None.  There are no props, per the movie. It’s just boys, their normal clothes, and then their normal clothes coming off.

In any case, years ago, it was my first visit there and by the end of the night I was chatting with one of the strippers, who was actually really smart and fun to talk to – he ended up asking me out, but basically forced me out the door, saying he’d get in trouble if management saw him talking to me, because it would take away the money they expect from the gays. Whatever.

Let me be clear, I never did anything with him – mostly because he admitted he was “gay for pay” – turns out the dancers are mostly straight, but for the right amount, are willing to do certain things. He said all he ever let this older guy do was “touch him”… yeah, right. I’m sure the old guy touched him with his mouth.

The date was fine but really all I wanted to do was talk about stripping, the money he made, how much he liked it, and he didn’t. As Magic Mike says in the movie: “That isn’t all of who I am.”  Are you kidding?  That’s the most interesting part, so that is what I wanted to discuss. We never had a second date, which was fine with me.

A second time we went, it was a group of girls, and we ended up accidentally buying a lap dance. Seriously. It was not on purpose – the DJ asked, “Who wants a t-shirt??” and my girlfriend, A, raised her hand and said she did. Who knows that’s code for a lap dance? Fuck. Not us! So the guy came down (was really cute) and asked who wanted the dance. We all looked at each other and said, “um… nobody”… and he said we took the shirt, so we got a dance.

Let me rephrase that. *I* got a dance. I had some naked guy swinging his medium-sized dick close to my legs. I honestly couldn’t even look, I was blushing. But I also couldn’t look up, because I didn’t want to make eye contact. Basically I looked like a crazy person trying to avoid eye and penis contact.

He goes: “You’re too sexy to be shy – why won’t you look down?” And I responded: “Because I don’t know your name and your penis is reaalllllllllllllllllly close to my jeans, and I’m kinda freaking out.”

He was actually very sweet and backed off. Finished the dance and off he went to the next round. Oh yea… we also didn’t realize we had to pay him – that took us about an hour to figure out, but he never asked us for the money straight out.

Anyway, as I was walking by this table of VERY cute men, they stopped me and go: “Honey, did you see how excited he was dancing for you? He totally liked you.”

OMG. HE HAD A HARD-ON WHILE DANCING FOR ME.

I was mortified. And kind of proud. Turned out the whole fucking club saw and I was the only one who didn’t notice, because I refused to look at his gyrating penis.

We ended up chatting with the guys from the table for most of the night. And then we ended up going home with them. 4 girls. 3 gay men. One stripper. (But not the one that danced for us, this one was so cute but sooooo dumb and had a crush on our other friend).

So we got back to the house and the gays were freaking out because they thought the stripper was going to steal something… spoiler alert: he didn’t. We ended up in the hot tub.

Ok. Let me just point out that I was really drunk at this point. And when A and I get together, we’re bad but SOOOO good and fun. It basically turns into: If you do it, I’ll do it and we both end up doing things we wouldn’t have if we were with other people. So me and one of the guys got in the hot tub first and waited for everyone to join us. I thought we waited about 5 minutes. Turned out it was a good half hour before anyone else got in.

So… the two of us… in the hot tub. He was REALLY cute. And REALLY naked.  And REALLY gay. And I only had on my panties. So maybe I felt him up a little bit….until we started chatting and I asked if he had a partner. Him: “Yeah, he is the one who just went to get beer. We’ve been together 17 years. I kinda love you.”

I dropped his dick out my hand pretty quick.

The rest of the night was a lot of fun… they were very gracious hosts and let us shower there, even gave us towels! We left and never saw each other again.

As it should be.

So there, Magic Mike. Two hours of my stripper stories would’ve been more entertaining than the shit we sat through today. Sheesh. Why isn’t Hollywood knocking on my door yet???

 

 

 

 

 

Quite frankly, I don’t think Barack gives a crap that I’m proud of him, or that I’ve met Michelle (ok, fine, I just shook her hand when she made a visit to Botswana, but still, I technically met her even if she didn’t ask my name) or that I saw his father’s farm in Kenya (along with the “Yes We Can Tea Room” and the “Obama Secondary School” – will post those pics later).

But I am. I am so happy we finally have a President who says he supports gay marriage.

It’s an old joke in this fight, but if the gays choose to get married and be miserable like the straights, isn’t that their right? They die for our freedom, they pay the same the taxes, the go to the same schools and deal with the same issues  – why wouldn’t they have the same rights and equality? Because the person they love makes other people uncomfortable?

My friend and I were just chatting today about the anti-gay marriage law that was passed in North Carolina, and I told her I thought that the change in attitudes towards equality for our gay brothers and sisters, friends and family, wouldn’t come with our generation, it would come with the one that follows us. It will be our  children who don’t know why it’s “strange” to have two mommies or daddies. It will be that generation that doesn’t understand why this ever would have been an issue, just like it’s my generation that doesn’t understand why inter-racial marriages were once outlawed. And what did the President say in his interview? That his view evolved due to his daughters, and the fact that they have friends whose parents are gay couples. And that for his daughters, they don’t expect their friends’ parents to be treated differently than anyone else.

I don’t ever write about politics on here, because I don’t really feel qualified to – and tomorrow it’ll be back to complaining about boys and posting pictures of shoes and wondering why I can’t get laid. But for now, I’m really just proud. (After the cartoon, I put in something I wrote when Obama was elected, but I never really shared – I figured now is as good a time as any)

Why I cried when Obama Won:

At 11pm on Nov 4th, the USA made history. At 11pm on Nov 4th, I got goose-bumps. And when President-elect Obama spoke, I cried.

I cried knowing that it was 48 short, but long, years ago that African-Americans won the right to vote. But also, for the first time, there is a president who represents me –  as a daughter of immigrants, a person of color, and a first-generation American.

My parents chose to leave India so that the generations to come after them would have more and better opportunities. Had they not come to America, would I be the same person I am? Not very likely. Had they stayed in India, I would never have had many of the chances I have had here. Had they moved to South Africa, I would have lived with institutionalized racism under apartheid for at least part of my life. Had they stayed in England, where they started their journey, I would have been free and educated, but marginalized.

As has been said many times, this is truly the only country where our 44th president’s journey would be possible. This country was built by those who wanted freedom from oppression, freedom of religion and the hope of a better tomorrow. In no other nation would a multi-racial boy, the son of a Muslim African, the product of a single-mother, a child who grew up all over the world, have the educational and civic opportunities to become its leader. His journey is the true “American Dream.”

My parents had the opportunity to leave India because their parents fought the British for freedom. Because of the generations before me that spilled their blood, in lands all over, I am lucky enough to have never been treated as less than equal to anyone, and because of the country I grew up in and the ideals that it has, I have been lucky enough to always expect that.

I may not always agree with President Obama, and I won’t always like his policies, but I will always see him as the hope we all have for those that come after us.

I went out with my gaybor (gay neighbor) last night – dinner and then the gay bar.  He’s having some relationship problems and my issues are pretty well documented, so I won’t recap my whining here. In any case, he said we should go somewhere where I can get hit on too, but surprisingly, I hold my own around the gays, especially the ones who appreciate boobs. We were there one night and I was keeping an eye on him, making sure he was ok and the rest of everything happened so fast I barely knew what was going on — but out of nowhere, some random gay dude came up to me, stuck his face in my tits (my tank had shifted a little low) and MOTORBOATED ME AT THE BAR.

I gasped, pulled back and laughed, because come on — that shit’s funny. I asked him what he was doing and he goes, “They’re so great! I just had to!!” and walked away, with this ridiculous smile on his face. So, now, every time I’m at this bar, I keep one eye out for any incoming faces.

Another night, this very very drunk but very nice lesbian kept buying us drinks in the hopes of getting into my pants. She bought us multiple ‘mind eraser’ shots, half of which I didn’t finish. She asked if I’d ever been with a girl, which I honestly answered I haven’t, and she asked if I wanted to try with her… I told her I was too old to experiment, but she was insistent. Finally, when she was leaving, she asked for my number again so I gave it to her. Basically, I couldn’t find a graceful way out of it and didn’t want to hurt her feelings… She never called, which kind of hurt *my* feelings, actually.

Last night, we ended up taking some new friends back to their place and hanging out for a bit. It was fun  – I couldn’t drink anymore so I switched to water while they continued with one more drink. One of the guys is a rep for a skin-care line, so before we left, he went back to his room and got me very prettily wrapped samples of expensive exfoliators and creams. I got parting-gifts!! Just for being the only girl!! I was so excited!!!

The gays are awesome.

 


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