HGTV

I haven’t a clue what the percentage of homosexuals in American society is. 5%? 10? 30? I have no idea. I do know, however, that there appears to be a disproportionate amount of gay white men on HGTV. I’m not just talking about the designers, that’s more expected; they’re designers for Christ’s sake. I’m talking about homeowners who are having their places renovated.

From watching these shows and seeing the homes, I have deduced that gay male couples control 75% of the nation’s wealth. They always live in homes with fantastic views and they have amazing kitchens. Their art is amazing. Even their floor plans are from some upper echelon of the design world. There also seems to be some gay man obsession with Asian influences.

The most recent Designer’s Challenge episode featured a gay couple that had THREE dishwashers put in their tropical oasis kitchen. THREE.

I’m slightly tired of these shows that go into people’s homes who already have great spaces and redesign them. I always enjoy the reveal, but I like it much better when they enter a dark foreboding den with green shag on the floor and a brick fireplace that has been painted white with gold accents and they turn that into a pleasure zone. I don’t know if the people are paying for this or if the network pays for the redesign but I want in! It is my DREAM to have a carpenter and design expert come into my house and work over my kitchen and bathroom. But I don’t think I’m enough of a gay man to qualify.
image What exactly does the “G” in HGTV stand for, anyway?

I used to watch ‘Extreme Makeover’ when it was on television. I always found that show amazing. People were literally being transformed and their lives were changing. Then they cut that show. I believe it was canceled because of a suicide. One woman had been selected, flown to LA, and then told her makeover had been canceled. She went home and killed herself. That is so sad and so tragic. I can understand how that might lead the producers to can the program.

So then they come out with this Extreme Makeover Home Edition. A very nice thought and a wonderful gesture.... but....

I’ve only watched it a few times, and in those few times I’ve seen some very deserving people get new homes. But, and please correct me if I’m wrong, haven’t I also seen some people who simply made some stupid choices getting totally fab houses? It’s like this psycho who just had eight babies to add to her six children. Does she deserve anything other than some mental help and the phone number of an adoption agency? I would feel differently, maybe, if she were wealthy enough to take care of 14 children without any taxpayer support or private donations- but she’s not- and therefore I keep my fingers crossed that she gets the mental help she needs. I feel some sadness for her and a lot of sadness for those kids. There is no way she can give proper physical care and emotional support to 14 children by herself. So.... does she deserve some help? Does she deserve an extreme home makeover?

Long before Costanza did it on Seinfeld, I thought about how awesome it would be to start a scholarship for B-/C students who are creative and interesting but not overly committed to high academic standards or community service. Kids who’s parents are middle-income so they don’t qualify for Pell Grants or financial aid other than straight up loans, but who do want to go to college and who do want to somehow make the world a better place.

I want to see more of this on home makeover shows. Shows that don’t pick those who are already well to do and that don’t pick those who are in their extreme predicament by being irresponsible. Trading Spaces does this, but you have to WORK and you have to a neighbor willing to go in with you as well as a partner to help do the work. Deserving Design does this but my god those people are saints. What about average Joes and Joans getting selected for the grand prize? People who work normal jobs and live in subdivisions and don’t have $25,000 for cosmetic changes in their homes? In other words, ME. How do I get Vern Yip over to my place and get some new tile laid in my kitchen?

I really need to date a carpenter for about a year…

I Own This Blog, Baby

image And on my blog, I will pay homage to my cat, Leon.
And I will show pictures of adorable kittens:
imageimageimageimage
And I’m making some new rules:
imageimageimage
The law has been laid. Or would it be lain? Or maybe lied? Either way, you get the point. There is a new sheriff in town and she likes kittens and finds intentional farting to be disgusting. She also feels like shit today and stayed home from work to avoid facing office drudgery.

I have a new thing to add to my pet peeve list. People who come to work sick are assholes. I don’t know how the perception that real committed employees drag themselves to the job no matter what ever got started. It’s ridiculous. I missed a day and a half last week too, and I’d like to say, “you’re welcome” to all my cubicle mates. I could have gone to work today and felt like shit and accomplished nothing but spreading my disease among the general population. I might should have even considered this, since I did miss last week and returned to comments like, “Oh. You were sick huh?” wink Just because I didn’t require hospitalization doesn’t mean that I felt like coming in and listening to some asshole talk about ‘organizational objectives’ or ‘synergy’. And I don’t understand why they didn’t have a cake and large banner waiting for me when I returned. At least a thank you card for considering them in my decision to stay home.

If I could do virtual office, I probably could have worked today. I’m not so ill that I’m immobile. I’m able to function, just not happily. I even went to the grocery store earlier and picked up some cold and flu medication and orange juice. So if I could have worked from the house, I would have. Instead, because working from home isn’t an option for me but IS an option for one of my co-workers who does my exact job, I’m totally off work today.

Maybe I should be thanking them.

You read correctly. I have a co-worker who does my exact job and who gets to work from home one day a week. As always, I like what I do, I like where I work, and I make a salary that I can comfortably live with. The positives of my work life far out weigh the negatives. But this virtual office situation pisses me off. I feel so discriminated against! I’ve talked to the bosses about it and it’s a ‘tough shit’ situation. That response hasn’t really helped me move forward in my quest to get over this. I know this must seem minor to you, but this situation reeks of injustice and I can’t let go of how angry the issue makes me. This has gone on for nearly a year and I’m still fit to be tied over it! I know. Move on.

I have a friend in Nashville who gets to work from home whenever he wants to. He doesn’t even have to let his boss know in advance; he just does it when he feels like it. As long as he’s not required to be in the office for a training class or mandatory face-to-face, it’s his call. He loves it. That’s my dream work situation! My job requires me to be in the office at least 2 days a week, sometimes more. Can you imagine how fantastic it would be to have that kind of freedom? I would only have to iron about once a month and my water bill would go WAY down because I can tell you from experience that if I’m not leaving the house, I am probably not going to shower every day. Costs associated with gas and with lunches would go down too. My skin would be glowing because I wouldn’t gunk it up every day with makeup. Anytime you had to have a repairman out, you’d be HOME to receive him. “I can be there between 10 and 2,” would be met with, “Great! I’ll see you then!”

But for today, I’ll settle for watching reruns in my lounge pants and kicking myself for checking my office email even though I am NOT AT WORK.

“Labor” and “Love” Do Not Go Hand in Hand

Much like the Wonder Twins, Killer and I work best as a team. And, as the picture shows, we share an unhealthly lust for the ‘fist bump’. It part of what makes us ‘work’.
image So where is my tattooed friend? I have only spoken to Killer once since he left to return to the exciting world of Travel Nursing in late January. I think he said he was in California and I believe he said he’s working an average of 82 hours per week. This alarms me. It’s not his safety I worry about but the safety of his patients. What if YOU’RE the guy laying on the table during Killer’s eighty-first work hour of the week and you need him to be focused and committed as he inserts the catheter? Isn’t there a law about this? It should be illegal to work more than 30 hours a week, much less 82! A custodian, the post office clerk, a furniture maker, a photographer, a car salesman- no one should work 82 hours in a week; but a nurse? A nurse especially should be well rested and alert at all times.

On a positive note, I think they stick you on coma watch after you’ve put in over 70 hours, so maybe it’s not that big of a deal. Besides, I’ve know a lot of nurses and I’ve learned a couple of things about them. Half are lushes or heavily into recreational drugs and don’t let their jobs interfere with their lifestyles. I don’t have a problem with this if you are a custodian, the post office cleark, a furniture maker, a photographer or a car salesman, but I’d kind of like to think that when you’re stitching the wound, you only see on gash, not two. I also know that an alarming number of nurses are not very bright. I don’t mean ‘average’ intelligence, I mean damn close to BOX OF HAIR stupid. Because Killer isn’t a drug using alcoholic and because I personally know him to be quite bright, I think he’s operating with an acceptable level of care, even if he’s sleep deprived and unbathed… as I imagine him to be.

82 hours means that Killer is working TWICE as many hours as I work in a given week. Granted he is making three times my salary doing this, but at what cost? Three days a week I’ve given up by 2:00 and I’m just waiting for the sweet whistle of release to blow so that I can go home. I can’t imagine knowing that in a week’s time I would have 41 more hours waiting to pass before I could be off the clock. It’s not that my home life is so exciting that I salivate with anticipation, it’s just that once I’m off work, I’m on my time. Aside from sleep and a massage, this is one of the best feelings I know.

Bear in mind that Killer may be exaggerating a bit. There was a guy in high school who claimed to work 194 hours per week at Jitney Jungle Grocery. He didn’t recant until he got the furrowed brow stare. When I see Killer next month, I’ll cock an eyebrow and see if he passes the truth test.

As far as I know, Killer is unaware of my TWO DAYS IN A ROW blogathon. During this time, I can make this blog any damn thing I want to. Any suggestions? I’m committing to one more post before Sunday, and I’d love to seize this freedom before the master gets wise. 

Don’t Feed Me Chocolate Then Hint That I Need to Lose Weight

image I officially have my Valentine’s Day hangover. It’s not caused by alcohol it’s caused by the enormous influx of sugar dissolving in my bloodstream. I’m hooked on Lindor Truffles and this year I have started what I hope to be a long standing tradition- a bag of truffles, a corn dog, and a two-liter Coke. I know. Some of you have traditions that you feel are better than the one I hope to establish, but that’s just because society tells you that my tradition is one of a sad, lonely loser. I challenge that way of thinking! My tradition is one of absolute freedom; a tradition that doesn’t involve pantyhose and heavily scented lotion. How many women would chose February 14th to polish off a bag of Lindor’s, wash it down with a two-liter, and then make a ketchup soaked corn dog dessert? Not many. At least not many who are not already married.

I wasn’t really down on Valentine’s Day this year until a friend of mine sent a text message saying that last night he got engaged. I like this guy. He’s a cool guy. He’s a nice guy. But he proposed on Valentine’s Day? Come on. I would guess that this is the most popular day of the year, maybe besides Christmas, to present your girl with a ring and ask that she commit to you for the rest of her life, even though as you grow older both of your interests will change and you will find one day that getting married is the single greatest regret of your life. Don’t misunderstand. I comprehend the reason a man would want to get married. Now you have permission to shit with the bathroom door open and burp over breakfast. You can officially scratch your balls in front of her and not have to scratch over the pants- you’re free to dig in. You have someone who is legally obligated to bail you out of jail should the need arise. You can gain 40 pounds and if she complains, she’s being shallow and you can accuse her of alienation of affection. This gives you permission to have an affair- which you will do as soon as you lose 20 pounds. You can have children and begin your legacy; the legacy where the wife does most of the child-rearing and you find your escape through Golden Tee and cable sports channels.

And to think this chain of events all started on Valentine’s Day! How romantic.

Believe it or not, I am not anti-marriage. I’m glad people get married. I probably wouldn’t be here had my parents been realists and figured out before conceiving children that marriage sucks. Marriage has also stopped me from making some unwise choices in my life and it’s a GREAT excuse to give an ugly man who just can’t get it through his head that you do not find him attractive, but that his wife obviously does. So, I am not anti-marriage and I’m certainly pro-love. And I am a firm believer that you do not propose on Valentine’s Day. It’s been done to death and it feels like you’re just lazy and void of creativity. Pick a Tuesday that’s not close to a major holiday and don’t try to pair our engagement with my birthday so that you don’t have to remember to buy me a gift for that occasion too. Respect events like the Super Bowl as well. No one wants your engagement announcement to compete with their Super Bowl party. And don’t hide the ring in food. If you’re a guy, you probably didn’t think about sanitizing the ring before you had the chef stuff it in my shrimp cocktail. That ring has been touched and tried on by countless people. What are you trying to do? Kill me?

 

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