Summertime and the Dressin' is Shitty....

As the weather stays warm, everyone's dressing for the season--and many are looking fierce. I mean, I work in Chelsea, so every block and a half I see a young model on her way to a go-see (yep, I know the lingo), but even the normals are bringin' their A-game.

Except for the men.

I've discovered that I have several prejudices against certain fashion choices that men make. In fact, they offend me with their grossness.
I would like to share them with you now.
As with my fears, I believe that as I say them, I release them.

Hipster mullet.


                             

I came across this just yesterday while getting lunch with a gal pal. It was one of those hip restaurants where all of the waitstaff look like runaways from Oregon, and the guy asked us how many we'd be before reserving our table with a flame-patterned kerchief. So typical.

TEVAS

OF COURSE this guy would have a fish is a lava-lamp-shaped tank and a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge as his screensaver. No, buddy, I don't want to hear about that time you went to India with your parents for vacation!

This same character is usually found wearing another gguuhh--ross item: 

the short-sleeve button-down. 

I know, I know, this may polarize many of you, but this is my blog and my truth!

It doesn't matter how attractive you are, this screams LAME DAD!

Jaunty Caps (with unkempt hair)

No, you're not cool, you're not a 1940s jazz musician, and you don't have to get up early tomorrow and go to a life-drawing class. 

Winter Hats in Non-Winter Weather.    

Not even on Zefron.

This makes me want to vomit.

This makes me want to vomit--and not because it's Howie Mandel.  

FYI: it doesn't look good on non-white guys, either. 

While we're on the face, let's discuss WAXED MUSTACHES. 

Kill yourself.

The man below is basically the stuff of my nightmares.

Frosted Hair; 1990s-swing-music-revival-style T-Shirt; BLEACHED SOUL PATCH; sculpted facial hair AROUND the soul patch; TWO hoop earrings; AND A PINKY RING.

I Can't Handle This Man

I was alerted to this video by one of my main gays, and as I watched with my mouth hung open, I realized I had to share this with you, my favorite people. The man in this video is an "ex-homosexual," and he would like to share the gospel of Jesus Christ. Please, listen in:



In addition to being terrified by his intense misinformation and narrow mindedness (being gay has to do with being "fatherless"?), I have a few thoughts:

1. Note the soul patch. Ew.
2. One word: ASCOT! Unless you are Freddie from Scooby Doo, you cannot rock that look. If you're not stopping Old Man Withers from ruining the amusement park, you need to let your neck show.
3. Around minute 3, you can hear him snap his fingers. I'm sorry, but you are not free of the "gangrene" if you're still snapping for emphasis, my friend.
4. I love when he says his wife is "9 months pregnant"--I think he just pulled what little he knows about women's bodies out of the ether. Like, "see how straight I am--she's 9 MONTHS PREGNANT. LIKE, REALLY PREGNANT. LIKE, SPERM HAS BEEN INSIDE HER A LONG TIME."
5. He was "celebrated" in the Castro? For what? For having a man? Where's my parade float?!
6. If I'm ever sleeping with a man and he screams "JESUS!!!" intensely, and begins thanking our Lord and Savior, I'm going to have to "call a spade a spade" and kick his ass to the curb. I mean, Sojourner may be good, but I'm not that good.
7. Is that a red velour jacket?


I have no problem with religion or Christians, but if this isn't throwing stones in a glass house, child, I don't know what is.

I bet he watches "New Moon" three times a day just to see shirtless Taylor Lautner.

Let Me Tell You aSTORIa... About a Greek Man...

The Greek is over.

Cue strings.

After only 5 "dates," Zeus is out of the picture. I know that in Greek mythology gods can't "die," but Apollo is dead... to me. Yes, folks-- Poseidon has drowned, Hermes has run out of frequent flier miles, Ajax can no longer clean stains.

Friday night, Ambrosia and I headed to Queens for some.... one on one time. It was time to act on the tension.

Apparently it was also time for me to act impressed! Turns out Achilles' weakness isn't his heel-- if you know what I mean (and I think you do....*). I'd been anticipating tenderness and hotness, but it was rushed and lukewarm at best. I should also mention that Zeus had a tank of geckos in his bedroom.

I don't like to be watched, especially by animals peddling car insurance.

After a fitful night's sleep (apparently, they don't have indoor heating in Queens), I woke up and Zeus and I cuddled. I wondered when I was going to get my morning post-coital omelette. Instead, Odysseus excitededly told me he had a present for me and went to the closet.

What could it be? A key to his kingdom in Kalamata (yes, like the olives)?! A toga made of pure silk? A life-size drawing of my sleeping nude ebony figure?

It was a black fur shrug purchased at a thrift store.

I kid you not.

I'm not good at hiding my emotions (see previous posts, re: TRUTH), so forcing a smile was difficult. "Is this for me?" I asked, hoping he'd think my shock was born out of excitement. I'm clearly a much better blacktress than I thought, because he excitedly removed it from the hanger and told me to try it on.

"I thought it would look nice because of the black on black and the soft fur," he explained. He also admitted that he had purchased it for me after our second date.

I wanted to tell him it was a black on black crime, and he should be ashamed of his damn self for even looking at-- let alone purchasing-- such an abomination. But I didn't, cause it's the thought that counts.

The question is-- what was he thinking?!

As we headed out of the house (hopefully to get food, though this had yet to be determined), my dear sweet Litsa called, seeking blacktress council. I chatted with her for a while, then got off the phone so as not to be rude to Oedipus (this is a fitting name, as he recently told me he calls his mother 'little whore'-- WHAT?!). I filled him in on our chat, just to make him feel included and share some tenderness-- big mistake.

This ended up sparking a whole tirade on the "trivialities of people's lives," and how I shouldn't even offer advice because people will do what they want to do.

Zeus has no soul. And he won't feed me. And he requires extensive travel for lackluster love. And he doesn't have a cell phone.

There are geckos in his room.

He bought me a black fur shrug.

Need I say more?

Time to erase, replace, embrace a new face! Help-- only 4 weeks til Thanksgiving, and I wanna be thankful for a good man!

*it's his penis. Apparently those statues aren't out of proportion after all! (yes, I went there!)