My Mr. E man

So this guy I've been seeing—you remember, the one I met at Trader Joe's—seems like the real deal. But there's something, just under the surface, that seems off. I can't quite put my finger on it. He's so sweet and generous, not that I'm a gold digger, but it really seems like he's hiding something from me. He still hasn't told me what he does for work, which probably isn't such a big deal as my job ain't nothing to write home about either.

The other night we were up in the city having dinner and he get's a phone call and leaves the table to answer it. When he comes back he's and stays distracted the rest of the night. When I asked him if everything was OK, he said the obligatory, "Yes, it's nothing. Just work stuff." Not one to pry, I left it at that, but I'd be lying if I told you that the ongoing not-entirely-present thing wasn't annoying.

But that's not what's really chewing away at my conscience. Before the check came, he and I were talking (actuallly, I was talking and he was sitting there still kinda distant) and I mentioned to him the drama with my roommate T-Snake and Cuntessa, how she sucker-punched him for really no good reason, and how both Carlos and I would love to see her put out of her/our misery. For some reason that caused him to snap back to reality and he was oddly attentive. I jokingly asked if he knew any good hitmen and he smiled and said he'd make a couple calls with a quick wink. Later we were driving home (he's got a sweet town car and a sexy driver—should I be jealous??) and he brought back up the topic of Cuntessa and how the world might benefit from her ceasing to exist. It started off kinda humorous, but by the time I was being dropped off, the conversation had gotten pretty dark, even for me. Morbid humor is awesome, but after thinking about it, I was left with a slightly queasy feeling (unless it was the seafood from dinner disagreeing with me).

To make matters worse, I hate feeling that people are keeping things from me. That's when the Bloodhound Gang in me starts to kick in. And for the sake of clarification, the Bloodhound Gang that I'm referring to is the one from the PBS series 3-2-1 Contact, not the musical group from the late 90s.

Like I said before, it's probably nothing. I'm probably just looking for something to be wrong with him, or wrong with me, or wrong with us because subconsciously I hate myself and don't think I deserve any happiness. Or some crap like that. Sorry, Oprah moment, had to be done.

Am I over analyzing?

Cuntessa is officially bat-shit insane

Ok, more time has passed since the incident and I finally feel that I can write about it without it jinxing things.

Thursday, April 19, marked the day that proved to us just how nuts T-Snake's girlfriend truly is. Here's what happened, as told to me via various sources.

T-Snake was standing by for the start of a school event he was participating in. An event that he was totally excited about. Costumes were involved, so who wouldn't be excited? Minutes before the excite was to begin, he gets a call on his cell from Cuntessa. It seems that her car conveniently got a flat tire and she wanted him to come and put the spare tire on. Mind you, Cuntessa is at times more butch that I and even yours truly has changed a flat tire more times that I'd like to remember. Long setup short, he said no. Cheers to him for not being so completely pussy whipped.

Flash forward to the end of the event, where Cuntessa storms up to T-Snake backstage and demands and apology and that they talk about what happened and "things." I'm guessing "things" means their relationship. And by "relationship" I mean an abomination against all that is right and lovely in the world, because that's what it is. </rant> He says something to the effect of "hells no, I don't want to get into this here and now… I'm having a good time (without you)." Obviously this is not going to go over well with someone of Cuntessa's demeanor and she furiously storms off.

Flash forward, again, to the after party at a local pizza joint. T-Snake and his classmates are having a good ol' time socializing and whatnot when Cuntessa bursts through the doors and, still storming, marches up the T-Snake and demands that they talk about the issue immediately, the fun time he's having be damned. He declines and she flys over a table (seriously!!) and punches him square between the eyes. Jaws drop. Blood flows. Silence falls. She leaves. Holy shit, did that just happen?!

T-Snake got off lucky, his glasses absorbed most of the force otherwise he might have a broken nose to explain to friends and acquaintances. Yes, his glasses. She punched him in his glasses. He did nothing to cause that reaction from her. She's is just that fucked up a person.

When I see him the next day, I ask him why he has Band-Aid™ brand bandages on his face (pulling off an Oscar™ worthy performance) pretending not to know. He recounts some of the incident and I, in faux-disbelief, reply that I'm surprised he didn't press charges and have her arrested for assault. He looks at me with those puppy-dog-naive eyes, a smile growing across his unshaven jaw line, and says, "Really? I can?" Ah, to be that simple-minded again. I'm a little worried as to what will become of him when he is out on his own one day. But I have to give him credit that he rationalized that having her arrested might cause her to go even more mental and do something of pure evil to him in retaliation. Or worse… to the house! I'm pretty sure my insurance doesn't cover acts-of-bitch.

When Carlos asked him if this meant they were "finally" broken up, T-Snake sarcastically replied, "What do you think?" Mind you, it's hard to tell what to think as the previous times they've broken up they've been back in each others arms within a week. So, yeah, we simply weren't sure. Now enough times has passed and it's beginning to look like this time the breakup has stuck for good. Carlos and I are thrilled. A celebratory party is in the planning stages. Fuck you, Cuntessa. We're all better off with you out of our lives.

Random Queeriosities - April 23

My apologies for the delay in any sort of posting over the last week. Between work, the new guy, drama with T-Snake and Cuntessa (oh, and it's juicy so you know I'll fill you in later), and a family event back at the folk's trailer park, I've been a tad busy. And since I skipped RQ last weekend, I feel compelled to make up for it tonight. Like Palmolive, I'm been literally soaking in them! Two weeks worth…

Q 1. How the hell am I going to pull off an orange and pink color scheme for GKR 2.0?

Q 2. What do you mean our family name is actually Turkish?

Q 3. Las Vegas weekend or 3-year old nephew's birthday party?

Q 4. How much longer until we have to put dad in a nursing home?

Q 5. How much longer can mom keep taking care of him before it wears her down completely?

Q 6. The new guy is really awesome, but why is he being so elusive about what he does for a living?

Q 7. Should I care?

Q 8. Can I trust him if he can't openly answer what seems to be a simple question?

Q 9. Will T-Snake get back together with Cuntessa after what happened last week?

Q 10. Will Cuntessa really flip-the-fuck-out and do something to fuck with the rest of us?

Q 11. Can anyone recommend a good hitman to take Cuntessa out before she tries to take us out?

Q 12. Since the family name dies with me, would adopting a child to keep the family name alive for at least a few more generations be a horrible thing to do?

Q 13. Why is it so challenging for str8 guys to be friends with gay guys?

Q 14. How accurate is a cookie's fortune when it comes to planning your future?

Flour. Oil. Sugar-daddy. It's Amazing What You Can Find at Trader Joe's.

Greetings ladies, gentleman… and ladies that look like gentlemen and vice versa. Tonight I have an exciting announcement. Oh wait, did I forget to announce the results of the GKR 2.0 poll? I did! I've been a bit distracted since Sunday, but I'll get to that in a minute.

So the people have spoken. All 9-10 of you. Seriously. That's all?? Me thinks some of you didn't remember to rock the vote and remind your family and friends to check the boxes. You're lucky I'm all blissed out or there'd be trouble. For one of us. Ok, just me. Anyway, drumroll please…

• The "signature" color of GKR 2.0 is: Pink and Orange
  
• GKR 2.0 will be More White Trashy than previous versions
  
• Ads on the site garnered the overwhelming response of Meh… who cares.
  

So, now that things are settling down (and other things are heating up) I'll be able to begin work on designing GKR 2.0. I hope it's as thrilling for you as it is for me.

Speaking of thrilling… it's time for the actual thrilling announcement. Yours truly, Gay Kenny Ray, has found himself a sugardaddy. And at Trader Joe's no less! Proving once again that all the best stuff can be found at TJs. His name is Francisco—yes, another latin… I can't help it!—and it was instant chemistry when our hands touched when reaching for the same bag of frozen pineapple chunks Sunday night. We went out for coffee (he treated), not caring that our pineapple bits were rapidly thawing in our grocery bags. Monday night he took me out to dinner (his treat, again) and to his place for a nightcap (my treat… twice!). If it wasn't so late I'd go into more details. And don't worry, for those squeamish folks out there, I'll leave out the part about the harness, captain's hat, and the paddle. Is it love? I don't know. Stay tuned…

Grindtownhouse

That's much too cleaver a title for this post. But oh well, I'm wrapping up my Bloody Mary tilt and don't really care.

So I finally laid down "the law" as it were and explained to the housemates that we need to clean up our act. More specifically T-Snake needs to clean up his act, but so that it wouldn't come off as we were ganging up on him, I included all of us. He really didn't seem that excited at the prospect of having to keep the bathroom clean. BIG SURPRISE there, huh? No was he very thrilled to be reminded that, according to the lease, he was responsible for cleaning the carpet in his room once a year. To be honest, I was surprised at the carpet cleaning clause myself, I don't remember adding it, but can't remember if LawDepot.com had it in there by default. Either way, it's a good thing and is long overdue.

To make it as easy for the roomies, and the minimize excuses, I bought all the cleaning supplies they'd need to keep the bathroom "three-star hotel clean." T-Snake was trying to get me to downgrade it to Motel 6 or lower quality, but I held my ground. He tried to convince me that he's lived in far dirtier conditions and didn't mind. Yeah, his bedroom! Str8 boys can be sooo gross. Fortunately, Carlos was in agreement with keeping the bathroom clean which helped to keep T-Snake's moaning to a minimum. I just hope that Carlos doesn't become the sole cleaner of the bathroom.

We'll see how it goes. Anyone want to start a betting pool?

I have yet to tackle the specific issue of T-Snakes funky room. And by funky I mean it smells like mix of hell, death, and weed. I really hope that steam cleaning the carpets will help. I'm not expecting much. Ultimately it's a matter of changing behavior, and that's far more complicated. T-Snake only wants to do thing his way and puts up noise or just plain drops out when things don't go his way. Case in point…

Last night Carlos and I had set up the previous week as the night we would go see Grindhouse, the Rodriquez/Tarantino double-feature homage to exploitation/b-movies, and at the last minute, Carlos wanted me to invite T-Snake. Confused by such an oddly timed request (we had about an hour to get to the theater) I asked and unfortunately T-Snake said yes. But he wanted to go out to a steak dinner first. We just weren't going to have time to go before the movie but planned on hitting up TGI Fridays afterward. We had a video to return on the way, per our original pre-T-Snake plan. T-Snake was adamant that we get food first and return the video later. Logic only exists for T-Snake when it's in his favor. He was pissing and moaning about not going out for steak and a martini (the fucker added a martini to his list of injustices when we were on the freeway) all the way up until the movie started. This morning Carlos and I compared notes and cemented our realizations that T-Snake is completely self-centered and does not stop to think about others whatsoever.

And his behavior is the same around the house. T-Snake doesn't stop to consider how he impacts life here. And he sure as hell doesn't stop to consider how the actions of Cuntessa impact us. Someone that self-centered will be hard to get better behavior from. The entire meeting he just had this look on his face and body language of, "Fuck, don't you realize that you're asking me to participate in cleaning?! You're being a dick by asking me to do stuff I have no desire to do because I'm a coddled OC-raised brat." So having a one-to-one conversation about how he maintains (or doesn't maintain the room he's renting is going to be reeeeeally interesting. It will no doubt become a huge debate and excusefest. And that'll be before I bring up Cuntessa's not being welcome in the house. Then it'll just become ugly.

I can't even begin to tell you how much I'm looking forward to not having to deal with roommates anymore. Patience… patience… patience… all in due time.

For those looking expecting Random Queeriosities this week, guess what… I really didn't have many unanswered questions nor queeries from the past week. Shocking, no? There's still some unanswered stuff from past weeks, though, so feel free to look back at the list and see if you can offer some sage advice or stabs in the dark at them. Sorry to disappoint. If you're lucky, I'll have a really fucked up week and you'll have some real gems to ponder with me next week.

International Bright Young Thing

Ok, I admit, I'm not any of the above. Except "thing." I've got people who can vouch for that. Actually, if you count paleness as "bright" then I might qualify for that condition. But I digress…

What I really mean by the title of this post is that I'm both excited and intimidated to discover that I'm getting hits from all over the world. GKR is global, baby! My detractors would argue I'm more planetary than global, but I digress, again. Boy, I'm awfully digressive tonight. I must still be coming down from a great episode of Lost. Or maybe it was the left over chinese take-out.

Whew! I am all over the place tonight. And no, no drinkies for me either. So maybe we should just cut to the chase. A picture is worth a thousand words, and this one is animated which is going to really save me from typing a heck of a lot more.



Who knew that the internets were all over the place!? Just kidding. I may be white-trash (and all hopped up on Rockstar energy drink) but I'm not techtarded. Normally that would have linked to either Wikipedia or Urban Dictionary but I've been typing nearly non-stop for the past 5 days for work and quite frankly I'm so over with typing. Good night, America. Good night, world.

Oh, before I do hit the sack, and then go to bed, just wanted to remind y'all that there's just a few more days left to cast your vote for how to GKR to 2.0. Just click on the ballot box-looking image to the left (no, your left) and vote if you haven't already. And if you already have voted, call your mom, your neighbor, and that boy/girl you used to date in high school but then broke up with when you started college and he/she became obsessed with you and you had to file a restraining order… um, call his/her parole officer… and ask them to vote! Pretend that voting here will get Sanjaya kicked off of Idol. See? Your vote, can make a difference.

I shall have another exciting installment of Queeriosities for the weekend, and something I'll be going bitchcakes over before then. If I survive work this week.

[Thanks to Jon at MideastPiece.com for reminding me of the cool map feature from statcounter.com.]

Random Queeriosities - April 8

Q 1. Why aren't more people voting for GKR 2.0?

Q 2. When is the best time to break bad news to someone?

Q 3. Did I really polish off $50 worth of sushi last night?

Q 4. Where should a solo traveler go on vacation that needs to happen in less than a month?

Q 5. Why would you lie (multiple times) about your eye color?

Q 6. If eyes are the windows to the soul, am I looking into a dishonest soul when I look into yours?

Q 7. Does it matter to you that now I'm doubtful of everything you've told me?

Q 8. Why does this feel like I'm in high-school again?

Q 9. How do I not have a bloody mary in my hand yet?

What Dr. Sauza told me…

Today was one of those days that you look back on and go, it made my week worth it. And yet at the same time you still end up fighting off the same disappointment, anticipation, regret, truths, deceptions, loneliness, serenity, and disappointment (what? I used that one already? Well it goes double!) that continue to get the better of you. So really, maybe it didn't make it worth while after all…

Being at a crossroad is—and I apologize upfront about the downerness of this post—never easy. And it's a real bitch when you've made that all important decision and get blind sided by a friend in need and your heart tricking you into reconsidering. Back to square fucking one. Looks like this past weeks Queeriosities will be pretty substantial.

Tonight Dr. Sauza told me to listen to my heart. I'm not sure I can do that… pretty sure it's broken.

You know what? I think I'll get a second opinion from Dr. Cuervo. He's a bit more in-your-face and sometimes harsh. But then again, he did show me how to block users on chat so maybe he's not all bad. He made it clear that I need to weed out the fair weather friends who rob me of my self worth and time.

(You know what? I don't think I should write after so much counseling with those intoxicating guys.)

Sometimes I wish certain people didn't know about this blog… that would make certain topics so much easier to talk about!

I know I promised a heavy duty session of going all bitchcakes on my visit to the 'rents last weekend… maybe I'll have gumption to get to it this weekend. After taxes. Sadly, that's how I roll.

Laying down the law

Have you ever lived with roommates? Me too. A lot. For the past 10 years in fact. And in those 10 years I've shared living spaces with roughly 18 other people. Not all at the same time, of course. And in that decade there were some really great roomies, and some tragic losers. Some really unforgettably awesome moments, and some moments that have me questioning if murder should really be illegal if your roommate (or roommate's significant other) is a psycho douche-bag.

This post will be about the latter. And it should be known that while I promised a good and bitchy posting, this one is not the one originally planned. No, that one shall have to wait. But fear not, the originally planned post was based on family so chances are good that fuel will be added to the bitch-fire between now and the time I post it.

I run a 50/50 chance that at least one of my roommates might see this. It's hard to not let your "secret blog identity" slip out during a casual conversation of what same-sex male modeling (aka: gay pr0n) sites are all the rage right now. (Don't judge me. You know you want to know too.) But I shall post this anyway in fear that if I don't I won't be able to sleep. Besides, I'm waiting in line to IM with someone who is busy chatting with his girl friend. And by "chatting" I mean they're probably having cybersex.

So where to begin? Well, hows about a quick recap of the players:

• T-Snake (aka: the str8 roommate with the mean trouser snake)
  
• Cuntessa (aka: the str8 roommates unfortunate girlfriend)
  
• Carlos (aka: the gay roommate who I've been great friends with for close to a decade)
  
• GKR (Kenny Ray, owner of this sinking ship)
  
• with a special appearance by, Charo!
  

Flash back to a few weeks ago when T-Snake cut off his balls again and got back together with his rude, annoying, selfish, immature, bright-as-a-broken-lightbulb of a girlfriend, Cuntessa. Yeah, that was enough to push me over the edge. But then he left for spring break and I didn't have to see either of them for more than a week. A week of almost pure heaven. Even Carlos and I stopped bickering as much. There were no late night smoke alarms blaring, Carlos and I were actually able to enjoy our own food without it vanishing into the succubus, and even the stench of his room returned to a less-than-gag inducing discomfort level. But all good things must come to an end and he returned. While he didn't bring either of us souvenirs from his trip to Europe, he did return with a pretty serious case of blue balls which meant that Teri would be spending the night. Someone, kill me, please. I mean hell, even Carlos and I offered to "help him out" if it meant keeping her away. We were ready to take one for the team… now that's true courage!

T-Snake must have been a jackhammer in a past life, because unless we had an earthquake that didn't make the news, I'm pretty sure he fucked the shit out of her. Several times. If only he had fucked her to death. But then again, that would just lower the resale value on the house I guess. And while it was pretty loud in my room, I could only image that Carlos had to wear ear plugs and bury his head under pillows just to bring it down to a dull roar.

That was last week. This week brought more visits by Cuntessa, the stench reprising its role, and T-Snake smoking pot in the living room (which I've said is not allowed before). But what really pushed my buttons is what happened when I got back from visiting my ailing dad (he's doing a bit better, thanks for asking) over the weekend. I came home to find that Cuntessa finally bought her own groceries, left them out on the stove, spilled fake Cherrios on the kitchen floor, didn't clean them up, and had the fucking nerve to label her food so that no one else would eat it. OH. MY. FCUKING. GOD. Is she serious? After guzzling Carlos' and my soy milk… after steam-shoveling my "top shelf" peanut butter into her obnoxious face (after being told not to eat our food)… after ASKING us to make her something to eat like we're fucking Denny's and just here to cater to her desires she has the nerve to move her food in? HELLS NO. This ends once and for all.

I've set a house meeting for the middle of this month and I'm laying down the law. And not just for that. There's a ton of other shit that needs to be addressed. And it will be… it… will… be…. But that's about all I can say here, again, just in case Carlos or T-Snake is reading this. Get ready boys, this has been a long time coming. And it's coming hard. Wait. That didn't sound right. Screw it, I'm going to bed.

(And yes, I'm still "on hold" waiting for my buddy to finish pixel-fucking. Wow. This is the bitchiest I've been in a while, and yet, I feel better now. Enjoy it while it lasts!)

Random Queeriosities - Premiere edition! (Baker's Dozen Style)

Over the past week my brain has been taxed with the following unanswered questions. Do you have the answers? I hope so! Add them to the comments or send them privately to me at gaykennyray at gmail…, pretty please? Getting some answers could give me the motivation to get my next really bitchy post posted posthaste.

Q 1. I just listened to "Allure of a Mean Friend" on This American Life. Am I a mean friend or the guy on the other side (who is attracted to people that treat me like shit)?

Q 2. What triggered your decision to tell her you want to break things off at this moment?

Q 3. What are the downsides to Tenancy In Common (TIC)?

Q 4. You mentioned that you have a "fear of commitment" before … what do you mean by that?

Q 5. Why are you scared to tell me the truth?

Q 6. Why must my visits home turn into "theological crusades" by my mom?

Q 7. Does this blog still make me look fat?

Q 8. If you and your girl remain friends, how will you approach the relationship differently knowing that she may continue to have unrequited feelings for you?

Q 9. What should I get my dad for his 75th birthday?

Q 10. Have you cast your votes for GKR 2.0 already?

Q 11. How do you tell someone close to you that you've grown apart and are ready to walk?

Q 12. Why do I keeping putting my nose where it doesn't belong (figuratively speaking)?

Q 13. Who did let the dogs out?