Cell Phone Storage…..Oh, BRAther!

A few weeks ago at work, I was standing at one of the cosmetic counters talking to one of my favorite coworkers, when all of a sudden I heard a ring tone emanating from somewhere in her chest region.

She immediately grabbed both her breasts and began squeezing them right in front of me.

“Ohhhhhhh….where the hell is my cell phone, I can’t find it?!”

She quickly reached inside one of her bra cups and groped her breast.

“No, it’s not in that one.”

She then reached inside the other bra cup and began feverishly groping her other breast.

“OMG there it is, I found it……Yes, HELLO?”

Well can I just tell you, I was utterly flabbergasted. Yes, ME…flabbergasted!

After she got off the phone I had to ask, “So tell me, why do you keep your cell phone in your bra?”

She said, “Because it’s the most convenient place. A lot of women do.”

“Oh really? Well if it’s so convenient, why did it look as though you were publicly giving your girls a little afternoon delight?”

“Because my boobs are so big that my cell phone will sometimes get lost.”

“Then why don’t you try wedging it in your cleavage. It might be easier to secure.”

Afterward, I thought about it and realized she had a point. Unlike men, who usually have a shirt, pant, or suit pocket to store their phones, where does a woman conveniently store hers?

Viola….in her bra!

This gave me a crazy idea. Just for the heck of it, let’s try to imagine men doing the same thing. I mean what would happen if one day the fashion industry suddenly stopped making shirts, pants, and suits with pockets? And what would happen if there were no such thing as a cell phone belt clip? What would a man do with his cell phone?

Viola….he could also wear a bra!

So, I went online and found some nifty men's bras. What do you think?

Me, personally? I prefer the classic black.

It looks a tad more macho.


Oh and look gentlemen, you can even try wearing your bra like this….

it's called.....hands-free mobile!



Have an awesome weekend, BRAthers!

X

I Woke Up Laughing

Yesterday morning, I woke up laughing while dreaming of something that happened back in 1976, when I was in my early twenties.

Have you ever done something devilishly delightful in your life that later came back to bite you in the ass?

Yeah….isn’t that fun?

It’s called KARMA.

While living in NYC, I had a studio apartment on the upper east side that faced a courtyard garden. It was on the third floor of a four story walk-up. Below me lived an elderly Russian woman, who other than this incident that I’m about to share with you, never said so much as two words to one another in the three years I lived there.

Sometime during the third year of residing in this building, my partner and I adopted a cat. Neither of us having ever had a cat before, were somewhat unaware of the whole “litter box involvement” of keeping it clean. Being in our twenties, we didn’t care if the poop piled up for two days because we were both too busy trying to become famous actors on Broadway.

Most of the time we would do the normal thing, by sifting the poop out of the litter box and either flushed it down the toilet or disposed of it in the trash. However, sometimes I would sift it and simply throw it out one of our windows because I figured it would just land in the garden below, becoming fertilizer for the grass.

(I thought I was doing my part in recycling)

Yet, what I hadn’t remembered was that the woman who lived below us had a small terrace that extended out from her back door, which meant that all the poop I was throwing out the window was actually landing on her terrace floor. God only knows what she must have been thinking everytime she saw little tootsie rolls cascading from the heavens.

I don’t know how long it took her to finally catch on that it was me throwing cat feces out my window, but one day my partner and I heard a loud BANGING at our apartment door. And when I opened it, guess what I saw?

I saw an angry little Russian woman, holding a folded piece of The New York Times. And when she opened the newspaper, I saw all the poop I had thrown out the window that morning.

She said, “Excuse me, but does this belong to you?”

I stood there with my mouth wide open; turning a bright color of NEON red.

She then said, “Yes, I thought so. And if I ever see any SHIT on my terrace again, I will contact the property manager.” And then proceeded to take the newspaper and SHOVED it in my hands.

I closed the door and turned to look at my partner, saying, “Oooops!” Then the two of us laughed until we thought we were going to die.

So, remember something everyone….

Don’t EVER throw cat poop out your windows. Because trust me, it will only come back from whence it came.

Belly Button……Innie or Audi?

You can certainly tell how insanely busy it’s been in the retail business this month, because Wednesday afternoon I actually had time to walk around the whole department; asking everyone if they had an innie or an outie belly button.

Yeah…it’s been THAT busy.

I don’t know why I was even the slightest bit interested in finding this out, other than curious minds like my own want to know bazaar things.

I also did some research online, attempting to discover why some people develop an innie belly button verses an outie. Come to find out, they really can‘t be sure. Some medical people say it’s the way in which the umbilical cord is cut, while others swear it’s totally random or genetic.

After taking my belly button poll at work I was left completely shocked, because every single person I asked said they had an innie belly button.

NO ONE had an outie.

Um…that is, except for ME.

Yes, I have an outie belly button, can you believe it?

It’s kinda cute though because it actually resembles a small little button. And if I push on it, my tongue sticks out.

Here’s what it looks like….



Note: No, this is NOT an actual photo of my abs. Heavens no, my abs look MUCH better than this. Instead of six-pack, I have a EIGHT-pack.

One of the main advantages to having an outie belly button is that I don’t ever collect navel lint, like this….




I once had a partner who had an innie belly button, and I don’t know whether it was because it was as deep as a well, or the fact that he had such a hairy abdomen, but his belly button collected lint as fast and frequent as a seasoned prostitute turns tricks. I use to enjoy carefully picking it out of his button hole and storing it in an empty aspirin bottle (I kid you not). My goal was to one day collect enough so I could knit him a scarf. Unfortunately, we broke up before that ever happened, so one day I took all the lint and TORCHED IT.

Anyway, those of us who have outie belly buttons can sometimes feel like a freak of nature. However, if we can begin to look at ourselves as unique and rare, we can start to change our perspectives, and celebrate our outie bellybuttons as something perhaps……

a little HIGHER END?

Wishing you a lint-free weekend everyone!

X

A Watched or Unwatched Pot

Why is it that whenever I’m starving and heating up some water to make pasta, it seems like it takes about FIVE HOURS for the water to boil?

Could it be the saying, “A watched pot never boils” is true?

I think it is.

However, there needs to be an attachment to that saying which includes, “….and a unwatched pot always boils waaaay before you’re ready for it to boil.” Because whenever I’m on the computer doing something like responding to comments or composing a blog post; needing extra time, the water seems to boil in less than ONE MINUTE.

Take for instance right now, as I’m writing this post. I am not especially overly hungry so I’m in no hurry for the water boil, yet it seems to be heating up fast, which means I’ll probably be interrupted soon and lose my train of thought by having to go over to the stove and toss in the pasta.

*Note: Yup....I just had to get up and go toss in the pasta.

Which, by the way, will probably cook in all of TWO SECONDS, but that's only because I don't want it to because I need more time on this post.

Yet, had I wanted the pasta to cook fast, it would probably have taken until this coming Wednesday afternoon at 2 p.m.

*Note: Let’s just see how long it takes to cook, shall we? Let's count.

One....two....

Okay, it’s done.

See? I told you it would only take two seconds.

So, now I have to conclude this post because I need to hurry up and go eat my pasta before it gets OVERLY-COOKED.

Because I despise overly-cooked pasta.

Nevertheless, I’ve learned some very enlightening from this experience.

Either way, whether I watch the pot or don’t watch the pot….

….boiling water is a royal PAIN. IN. MY. ASS.

Bon appetit!

Straight Women, Gay Men Friendships

Sometime last year, one of my longtime blogging friends, Linda, asked me something in one of her comments that I’ve been meaning to post about, but have never gotten around to doing.

She asked (something to the effect), “Why is it that a lot straight women find it so easy to be open and free with gay men?"

And she’s not the first woman to ask me that question, because throughout my life other women have mentioned the same thing.

Now I can only answer that from a gay mans’ perspective by saying that I think one of the main reasons is simply because we’re gay, and there is a certain freedom in being more open when there is the absence of anything sexual.

I also think most gay men connect on a deep emotional level with women, therefore can relate to how a woman feels, so it makes it easy for us to communicate with one another.

As a gay man, I see and appreciate the beauty of women, both physically and intellectually. And that comes from place of being neutral. A place of utmost respect.

Most of my closest friends are women (both straight and gay). And ironically, straight men not gay men, because gay men will often experience the same sexual tension with other gay men that straight men and straight women sometimes do.

I’ve often heard many women say, “I enjoy having gay men friends because it’s like having a girl friend in a boy friend.”

So, maybe that’s it. That's the reason.

Straight women and gay men friendships are like a sister-brotherhood in one.

It's a bond like no other.

All I know is that I adore women.

And am so grateful for the friendships I have with them.

Thank you, ladies!

Have a faaaaaabulous weekend everyone!

X

About the Size of a Ping-Pong Ball

Try to imagine placing something about the size of a ping-pong ball inside your mouth and having it protrude out the side of your left cheek along your jaw bone.

Are you imaging that?

Well, that’s about what I looked like on Wednesday afternoon when I walked into the dentist office.

For about four days before it grew to that size, I had been carefully tending to this tooth issue on my own by using natural herbal remedies, energy work and reflexology. And before any of you say, "OMG Ron….are you CRAZY?", I just want you to know that the first dentist who attended me could not believe I was virtually in NO PAIN and had been able to keep the infection localized. So, whatever I had been doing helped tremendously, but I also knew that I was at a point of seeking medical help.

The dentist took one look at me and said, “This is serious, I need to send you to an oral surgeon downstairs who is probably going to have to drain it and then put on you on heavy-duty penicillin.”

When the oral surgeon saw me he FREAKED.

After x-rays were taken and he examined the inside my mouth, the surgeon concluded that it would definitely need to be drained. He said he could use a general anesthetic, which would mean I would have to come back the following day because I needed to have someone drive me home after the surgery. Or, he could use a local anesthetic which meant he could do it immediately, but also added that because of the size of the abscess I would most likely feel pain. After giving it some consideration, I decided that I just wanted to get it over with so that I didn’t have to return the following day at 8 a.m.

He said, “Okay, I’ll be right back.” And left the room.

His dental assistant looked at me through squinting eyes and whispered, “Are you really sure you want to do this with just a local?”

I said, “Why? Do you think it’s going to be THAT painful?”

Gently nodding her head. “It might.”

I said, “Oh well…..pray for me then.”

After the surgeon returned, he shot my mouth with enough Novocain to numb an elephant and three wild apes.

Ten minutes later, he said, “Are you ready?”

I said, “Ready.”

Just then the assistant placed a full-length plastic shield over her face and turned on the suction hose.

He said to her, “Suction ready?”

She responded, “Suction ready.”

He said, “Okay…here we go.”

I suddenly pondered, Gee….I wonder if should have chosen the GENERAL?

Too late.

Now here’s where this story gets a little graphic, so you may want to close your eye’s while reading this.

As he made the incision with the scalpel, I thought to myself, Hey…that’s not bad at all, I didn’t feel a thing. Then, as he took another sharp-looking instrument and carefully inserted it within the incision to puncture the abscess, I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE!!!!!!!!!!!

It literally felt like he shoved a pitchfork all the way through my jaw until it reached my shoulder. I don’t think I have ever felt pain like that before in my 54 years of life.

THEN….

He took his thumb and FIRMLY pressed the outside of the abscess so that it would drain through the incision.

It was at this point I realized….

YES…I SHOULD HAVE CHOSEN THE GENERAL!!!!

All I could hear were the sounds of the suction hose and dental assistants’ gentle voice saying to me, “Just keep taking deep breaths Ron, deep breaths…you’re doing great.”

God love her, she was like a little dental cheerleader.

The surgeon had to do this procedure TWO more times.

I remember grabbing the arms on the chair and squeezing them so hard, I thought I was going to pull them off. I also began humming absentmindedly to distract myself.

I finally heard the assistant say to me, “Okay…it’s all over, the only thing he has to do now is put in a small drain and stitch it up.

After the surgeon left the room, I turned my head to look at the assistant and said, “Well, that was perhaps one of the most delightful things I’ve ever experienced. I may have to try this again sometime soon.”

She laughed and sweetly said, “I told you it might hurt.”

When I got up from the chair and took a gander at myself in the mirror, I gasped. I looked like one of the ghouls in the Michael Jackson video, Thriller.

After I picked up my prescription and walked into my apartment, I literally collapsed from nervous exhaustion. But I’ve got to tell you, after the Novocain wore off I was shocked, because I had very little pain.

By the next day the swelling had subsided tremendously and I began to feel so much better.

So anyway, that’s my story folks. And like with any story there is sometimes a moral.

The moral of this story is….

Always choose the LOCAL.

Because it makes for a much better blog post.

We interrupt our normally scheduled Friday blog post to share this informative message...

Hi folks!

On Wednesday afternoon, I had to have emergency oral surgery performed on a nasty tooth abscess.

And can I just tell you something?

It was not the least bit enjoyable.

However, I think it will make for a great blog post next week.

That is, once I can begin forgetting how painful it was to have an abscess drained under a LOCAL anesthetic.

(and that was MY choice, not the oral surgeons)

Yet, I’m please to report that I’m healing well and feeling soooooooo much better than I did on Wednesday.

Between the horrendously uncomfortable heat we’ve been experiencing, and my recent surgery, I’ve not had a very good five days.

In fact, I would even go so far as to call myself a BITCH WITCH this week.

I feel like I’ve been living in the burning flames of hell, while experiencing a Stephen Kings version of The Tooth Fairy.

So, I’ve decided to take this weekend off from blogging to spend quiet time, resting and relaxing at home while continuing to care for myself.

I’ve also rented a few newly released movies that I’ve been wanting to watch, but haven't had the time.

Please know that I’m doing well, so no worries.

And I’ll be back on Monday.....

Wishing you an ABSCESS-FREE weekend everyone!

X

I'm Crackers for Animals

Quite frequently while I’m googling for photos to add to my blog posts, I will discover images that I may not being looking for at the time, but will suddenly give me an idea for a future post.

I know this may sound strange, but often times I get my blog post ideas from an image first, then write the post afterward.

An image will sometimes spark inspiration.

Last week while surfing the Internet, I stumbled upon some really amazing photographs of unusual-looking animals. I have no idea how or why these photographs showed up, because I was essentially googling for images that pertained to writing.

However, I guess fate took over and somehow lead me to someone who I feel has a very special gift with a camera; especially when it comes to taking photographs of animals.

Those of you who have been reading my blog for some time now, know that I have a soft spot in my heart for animals. I also have a soft spot in my heart for babies. Show me a picture of a cute little baby and I’m all goo-goo-ga-ga.

And show me a picture of a cute critter and I get all animal CRACKERS.

Today I would like to share the talent of photographer, IN CHERL KIM, who lives in Seoul, Korea.

I spent an hour looking through his photostream and had a very difficult time picking just eight.

Most of these were taken at the Everland Zoo in Korea.

A Fennec Fox

This was the first photo I discovered, which lead me to his Flickr photostream.

Isn’t this baby fox ADORABLE?? He looks like a gremlin. This photo makes me want to affectionately chew on those big fuzzy ears.

A Pig Tailed Monkey

Awww….look at those sweet little eyes.


A newborn Tiger

Notice the butterfly that landed on it‘s head. Isn’t nature astounding?

A Brazza Monkey

He looks like a wise old sage who is about to say something very enlightening, doesn’t he?

A White Peacock

OMG…isn’t this stunning? I’ve never seen a white peacock before.

Golden Monkey’s

Look at their faces - it’s as if they were actually painted. Serious-looking animals, aren’t they?

Chimpanzee and Orangutan Love

I bet this shot was taking on their wedding day and he’s saying to her, “Don’t worry my love, I promise to be gentle tonight.”

A tiny baby Marmoset

Have you ever seen anything so tiny and precious? I wish I had one of these when I was a kid for Show and Tell.

If you have some time this week, please stop by Flickr to see more amazing photos from this gifted photographer.

UPDATE:

I'm having MAJOR problems with comments right now. Some are being published and others are not. So, if you've commented in past two days and do not see your comment, I'm so sorry. This morning I published my comments held in moderation and none of them showed up. Oh well, I suppose they'll show up eventually. That is, whenever Blogger gets around to FIXING it. Thank you for your patience and understanding everyone...X

My Passion for Words

When I was in my late teens my mother gave me a desk and a typewriter for Christmas.

And I remember her saying to me, “I got you these because I know you’re a writer.”

Funny, because I always knew I could express my feelings much clearer through written words, but never considered myself a writer.

And it’s also funny that I always knew I could freely communicate feelings and emotions onstage as an actor, but never considered myself an actor either.

Why?

Because up until that point I had no formal training.

Eventually, I got some formal training in both these things. But to be honest with you, it stifled my natural ability to write or act because I hadn’t learned how to use this training in the right way.

I have nothing against formal training, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my natural instincts. Formal training is only beneficial when I can use it without becoming too ridged or over-thinking it.

For me, writing is not about thinking. It’s about conveying my feelings; allowing words to paint them into an image. And that includes breaking rules and regulations when it comes to proper grammar, punctuation, or sentence structure.

Words are meant to be used as a creative tool.

And sometimes that means being formally irreverent.

I am usually drawn to writers who can make me forget that I’m even reading words, but rather sense who they are THROUGH their words.

Many people question their ability to write because they either hold it up against what proper writing should be, or believe that because they’re not getting paid to write, they are not a writer yet.

I once had an acting teacher say something that has affected my outlook on many things.

He said, “If you want to act, just DO IT. Because in the “doing” you will learn more than I can ever teach you. Don’t WAIT to be an actor, BE an actor.”

And he was right.

Having this blog has enabled me to develop my own style of self-expression. A place to paint.

It’s given my voice a freedom.

It’s given me a place to share my passion for words.

So, I would like to thank my mother for seeing something that I never did.

I am a writer.

Simply, because I write….

Wishing you a SUPER weekend everyone!

And for those of you in the U.S…..Happy 4th of July!

X