Independently Happy...

In the past, my friends would refer to me as a serial monogamist. I cannot deny what is true, and therefore I cannot deny this accusation. For many years, I allowed myself to be drawn down by others because I needed to be needed. The addictive thrill of infatuation didn’t hurt either, but the real exhilaration comes from feeling for even one moment that you are the only person who can make someone else’s world right again. It isn’t true, but it feels damn good to think it is.

What are you so proud of?

I am not proud to be gay.

In fact, the concept of ‘gay pride’ has always kind of baffled me. It is my understanding that the community at large would like the people of the world to believe that, to quote Lady Gaga, we were just “born this way.” It’s in the genes. Part of the original blueprint. A stipulation in the contract that my soul signed before entering this body. By no means is it a choice.

A definition for you...

Exhaustion (n.):

1. The act or process of exhausting...all of my energy with two jobs and ballin' friends.
2. The state of being exhausted...a feeling somewhat permanent as of late.
3. Extreme weakness or fatigue...barely touched by an hour long bath.
4. The total consumption of something...my soul. The something is my soul.

I'm a big boy now...

Almost every Friday night for the last several months, since mid February if I remember correctly, I have spent my evenings well into the learly hours of the morning with an amazing group of flesh craving, heartbeat deprived lunatics. Not many people have the opportunity to spend time every week with a horde of seemingly insatiable zombies. Even fewer, I think, have the chance to willfully forfeit the living world for an eve and join the thralldom, enslaved by a never ending hunger for warm blood. We even get paid for this nonsense! I consider myself very lucky.

When it rains...

There is an old saying I’ve heard once or twice recently that goes something like this: ‘When it rains, it pours.’ Now, like any good Floridian, I know this isn’t always the case. In fact, when it rains, it could simply mist all day in overcast annoyingness. Sometimes when it rains it drizzles incessantly. Occasionally, it hurricanes like a beast. More often than not, though, when it rains it simply rains until the clouds are done crying. But last weekend, my friend, it poured like a mother fucker.

Haha...Got Ya!

Having spent several years playing grown up now (you know, apartment hunting, paying bills, figuring out life and all that good stuff), I’ve made a pretty funny observation. An observation of something which is funny. Not funny-haha…more funny-what-the-shit. Understand?

Good.

Beautiful Inconvenience...

Having been born in the shaft of America’s penis, I am no stranger to extreme weather phenomena or the effects they seem to have. Hurricanes the size of Texas (or larger), tornadoes strong enough to wipe out entire trailer parks, wild fires complete with exploding palm trees, droughts that go on forever, floods to drown even the heaviest of duty vehicles, sunburns through t-shirts, trudging ever on in the gelatinous humidity and wishing you had a knife to cut your way through, winds whipping debris around fast enough to slice your limbs off…these are my childhood companions. We Floridians know how to party, let me tell you. As fun as all that sounds (and some of it really can be fun), each and every one of those things is on the list of reasons why I chose to leave Florida in a permanent kind of way.

The Animal Within...

If you were an animal, what would you be?

Seems like a simple enough question, right? All you have to do is close your eyes, search deep within yourself, release your inner child from the shackles of adulthood for a moment or two and let ‘em go to town. Every animal that has ever appeared cool, groovy, nifty, awesome, badass or in any other way even remotely the shit to you in your entire life will be put on rapid display behind your eyelids. Within mere moments, you and your itty bitty childhood self sort through images of winged assassins and slithering poison factories, furry bundles of cuteness and scales with teeth. All of these scenes play out in a matter of seconds. Feverishly, the two of you whittle away at the choices until you reach the conclusion that seems to be the most logical conclusion of all conclusions ever to have been concluded. Jeez, I don’t even know why you had to ask such a question. I can see it so clearly in my mind’s eye now…I thought it would be obvious.

I am a mother fucking dragon.

Customer Service is Customer Service...

Last May, I ended a seven year marathon of working in one of the largest grocery store chains in the south eastern United States. In that time, I learned a great deal about interacting with the public on a regular basis. Some people pop into your life for a brief moment or two and leave you feeling inspired. The other 99% of customers do their best to make you a jaded, crushed soul who hates everybody and trusts no one. After somehow retaining my sanity and a love for humanity, I terminated my employment, moved up to New York City and began the job hunt.

The Speechless City...

Last June, I made a great big life change and moved to New York City. While I don’t claim to be an expert yet, I certainly do feel like I know a thing or two at this point. Spending my days riding about on subway cars and walking the seemingly endless streets of this sleepless city, I’ve managed to make a surprising observation: the silence here is deafening!

Dancing with death...

Fear is a stupid thing. Its sole purpose in life is to limit and control what we do. Sure, you could say there is such a thing as a ‘healthy dose of fear,’ but I prefer to call that sense. Fear is a silly idea of humanity that is twisted, warped, contorted and utterly abused in ways that keep us locked into whatever life our societies deem appropriate. I suppose the most ludicrous of fears is that of death.

What nice cabinets you have...

I have no fucking idea what it means to be a grown-up.

Is swearing a part of it? I’ve certainly had that covered for a while now. Then again, I can recall many a time hearing some awful little elementary school prick kid screaming obscenities at his mother in the middle of the grocery store. That being the case, my extensive sailor speak vocabulary puts me on par with that little shit. Groovy.

Stormy Weather Ahead...

Native Floridians are not gifted many things. We get palm trees, sun burns, rampaging brush fires on the dry years, a fun chance to get in touch with the land and sea on a regular basis (see Games with the God of the Sea), and intense tropical weather. In light of Lady Sandreline’s (this big ball of air, Sandy) impending visit, I thought I could share one of my few Floridian-gifted skills and insights with my apparently ill equipped New York friends. So for as long as we still have some power left, here are some of Brogie McDoogerson’s hurricane how-tos.

Attractiveness...

One weekend day not too long ago, I sat myself down with my two slices and a blue Gatorade for my evening lunch. Down the block from the Stick, Stone & Bone (that’s the kick ass metaphysical shop where I work) there is a decent little pizzeria. Bear in mind all my non-NYC friends, by decent I still mean infinitely better than anything you can purchase where you are. Unless of course you live in that little European boot across the pond…then you win. Only then. I hadn’t ever tried the spicy chicken before, but I knew the white was going to make up for it should it not deliver. Both were satisfyingly delicious.

No Girls Allowed...

I am a man.

Some days I wear lots of jewelry, and some days I don’t. On occasion I prefer my clothes to be light and airy, but on most days I stick with my novelty t-shirts and blue jeans. Every day of the week, I dance around like a fool and sing along to the songs in my head. I like cats as well as dogs. Beer makes me cringe, but wine is my friend. Sports have never been of great interest to me, but in a crowd I can bring my testosterone to a boil like the best of them. I work part time and scrape by, but I’m happy with what I do and I don’t depend upon other people to keep myself alive. I can grow a full beard though I have never let it get beyond a few days of stubble. My emotions work hard to rule my big life decisions, and my head has learned to at least listen to what they have to say. Whatever my mood of the day, one fact still remains: I am most assuredly a man.

Losing Wait...

Patience is something that is slowly dying, dear friends. You know what? I’m going to immediately amend that statement. Patience has, at least during the rise of my generation to young adulthood, been wheezing away on its deathbed. There really isn’t anything slow about it anymore. The death of patience and going with the flow has been rather swift. It’s really an unfortunate way to go for something so slow and calm in nature.

Are you ready for NYC?

After spending about three months of life in this unendingly conscious city, I think I’m qualified enough to give some advice on everyday necessities I’ve discovered thus far. Now when I say every day, I don’t mean your life will end without any of these things. Hell, you might live life quite comfortably without ever so much as touching some of them. I promise you, though, when the moment comes that you absolutely need this one tiny thing, you will be grateful you listened to your friend Brogie McDoogerson.

Open your mind, open your mouth, and stick it in...

If there is nothing else to be learned about New York City, learn this: living here is like living in every country on the surface of this beautiful blue-green ball all at once. Half of the time, especially in the outer boroughs, I can’t read most of the signs. And in a matter of blocks, I still can’t read the signs, but the language has completely changed. Quite often I find myself wondering if it’s a language at all. Then people walk by having some kind of debate in what I can only assume is the vocalization of the current set of hieroglyphs before my eyes. I’m not sure if you can call this city a true melting pot, though, as the cultural sections of town are pretty definite in their invisible and unspoken territorial dividing lines. But with so many different groups clumped together in such a tiny space, there is only one certainty.

The food here is the bomb.

Feeling Heavy...

Over the weekend, I found myself an entertainer and tour guide of sorts to my visiting Florida friends. It was amazing fun, and I actually surprised myself with how much awesome (and more importantly inexpensive/free) stuff I was able to bring to their mini vacation.

Honesty is the best policy...

“Honesty is the best policy.”

                        -They

For the most part, They are right. The policy of unwavering honesty is one I have tried to abide by throughout my life. I’m human, and I have had my fair share of lies, but I try my damndest. Lying breaks apart your insides, and it only becomes easier to tell outright lies once your innards are left in tatters from constant tearing. At least that’s what I believe.