I Did It

It took most of the weekend and half a bottle of Southern Comfort, but I did it. Actually, I drank a bit more of the stuff that my mouth still feels like sarsaparilla overload. Nasty.

Anyway, here it is.

So much effort and stress for 10 cents per word - but fark, I'm loving it!

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Commercials, Movies and Relationships

We are a product of the times.

In this day and age of 24/7 consumerism and materialism, round-the-clock communication and constant access, we have become a society much too used to knowing that what we want and when we want it is usually but a click away. Instant gratification delivered straight to the door.

And this modern day affliction seems to have manifested itself in surprising ways.

Pete Burns has recently commented that "gay relationships are a commercial break, not a whole movie."

The bisexual, cross-dressing Dead Or Alive singer observed that when it comes to gay men and their capacity to have any form of long-lasting and meaningful relationships, we are a lot to be lambasted. "The relationships I'm aware of...," he goes on, "it's as though there's some kind of emotional inadequacy or narcissism, where they feel emotionally inadequate and need more validation."

Burns definitely has reasons to be resentful, having split with his husband of 10 months due to infidelity. But forget for a moment that these bitter words are coming from a man scorned. Is he right? Are gay men simply too emotionally-stunted, too self-serving to be capable of being faithful and exclusive? Is the sexual liberty that we enjoy dooming that very thing that we so desperately want?

There seems to be a generally held cynicism within the community at large when it comes to the integrity and durability of gay relationships. That old joke that for every year of a gay relationship equals seven is one that gets plenty of mileage. Why is it that some gay men out there hoping for an Affair To Remember are getting a Sean Cody snippet instead? Do we all have a debilitating short attention span quicker than a New York minute?

I only have to look at my friend and his partner to think otherwise.

"The reason why most relationships don't work – gay or straight – is because the people involved in it don't want to make it work," Scotti explained. "If we gays, no, correction – if we men tried keeping our dicks in our pants and only getting it out for our partners, relationships might just work."

Scotti and Trevor should know. Meeting in their teens, the two have been together for close to ten years. Both have been through plenty; what began as an adolescent kind of romance has developed into something mature and nurturing and still going strong.

"Ours may be an exceptional relationship, but it isn't rare," Trevor continues, "and it still needs the same things now that it did before: trust and respect – and plenty of patience."

So sure, there may be the bit part players out there who are making short stints in the relationship reel, but there are also the enduring stars, like Scotti and Trevor, who are proving that gay relationships can last longer than a flick of Titanic proportions.

After all, it's not in the length of the movie that ultimately dictates its success; it's in the strength of the characters and the parts that they play.

Just don't ask Pete.

Fraud And Fluff

I feel like such a fraud.

For the last two days, I've sat in front of this notebook *trying* very hard to type out my next article for the magazine I write for. Still, I'm yet to come up with anything remotely thought-provoking, entertaining, let alone, coherent for print.

My biggest problem is that I'm really not that opinionated. My laid back and open nature - which I normally think of as one of my strongest trait - doesn't lend itself very well to being an "Opinion" columnist. Whilst the other scribes in the same publication often write about current issues and events, such as gay marriage, legislation changes and human rights issues, in a witty and pointed manner, I'm penning articles on personal experiences and reflections that may not necessarily have any particular relevance to the readers and the community at large.

And so, I feel that not only am I failing to come up with the goods but that I'm increasingly pigeon-holing myself as a writer of no impact or significance. Like the very last piece on a weeknight news broadcast, full of fluff. If so, I'd rather not write at all.

So, now it's Saturday night and for the last two days, I've been trying to come up with something not only worth reading, but something fresh and something new. I don't really want to be digging again into my back-catalogue of blog posts.

There are two topics I've been toying with: the brevity of gay relationships OR scat and dating. Which would you choose?

The column is due Monday, before 9am. Wish me luck.

Holy Shit!

Fletcher Says

Fletcher left for Sydney yesterday. He'd been staying at mine for a whole week while organising his move down south. In all honesty, I couldn't wait for him to go back home. It sounds terribly harsh, but I found living with him very difficult.

I've never met anyone so self-assured at the same time so conflicted with their self-identity as much as Fletcher. He makes this worse by eschewing strong opinions about things that totally contradicts himself. I think that's what I found most frustrating about him: the things that he says. Oh, and the fact that he is a constant name-dropper.

On Dating:
Fletcher: I'd never date an Asian guy. I'm more into the rough, white dudes.
Joshua: Why, what's wrong with Asians?
Fletcher: I dunno. I just want a real guy.
Joshua: Erm, you're Asian, Fletcher, and you're a real guy.
Fletcher: Yeah, but you know what I mean.

On Picking Up:
F: I don't understand why I never get picked up at clubs. It's so frustrating. Maybe it's because I'm Asian. I hate that.
J: Yeah, but didn't you also say that you wouldn't even date your own? So, why are you pissed off?
F: Well, that's different. I'm different.

On Friends:
F: I don't like adding too many Asians on my Facebook friends list. I try to get away from that whole thing.
J: What's wrong with having lots of Asian friends?
F: You know, I want a bit of variety.

On Employment:
F: I work for X Fashion Label on the weekends.
J: That's cool. You design clothes for them?
F: No, I sell their couture.
J: So, it's clothes retail?
F: No, it's Fashion.

On Synergy:
F: I love my soon-to-be housemates. We had this really awesome synergy.
J: Good to hear.
F: Yeah, and they work in the industry, too.
J: What industry?
F: The Fashion industry. They work for Y & Z labels.
J: They design their clothes?
F: No, they sell them.

Under The Weather

Long weekend was interesting.

It was Anzac Day on Friday and despite it being a public holiday, I actually worked. In fact, I worked longer hours than usual since I covered for someone who took the day off. I didn't mind. I need the cash.

Late that night, I went to a party and got drunk. Very drunk. Swore like a sailor and danced like a slut kinda drunk. Of course, I couldn't remember a thing the next day, but suspiciously, I woke up finding cuts and bruises on my knees. Happened again.

Saturday, I spent trying to recover from a major hangover, which was made exponentially worse by the fact that I had to be at work. Surrounded by little children. Snooty dance student children. With their stage mothers. Passively aggressive, incessantly demanding mothers. Lucky I left my shotgun at home.

Sunday was a long day. I got up early to pick up a friend from the airport who is staying for a week. Fletcher is moving down to Melbourne from Sydney for a "culture change" and to further his career in the fashion industry. He's a wonderful guy but sometimes his extrovertness really grates. He's too friendly, too in your face and too upbeat. Am I being a fuddy-duddy to think that way? I know there's nothing wrong with him but the thought of his staying with me for a whole week really frustrates me. I'm trying to feel otherwise but having had heartburns and headaches since Saturday hasn't helped. I really hate being under the weather.

Speaking of which, this video was a saving grace over the weekend. Mr Gay Weatherman made me laugh so much, milk came out of my nose.

I was having breakfast and eating cereals at the time.

Try To Keep Up

One day, Joshua meets Jacob and the two unlikely duo become friends. Meanwhile, Joshua begins to get to know Raoul and introduces him to Jacob. Raoul is from out of town. At the same time, Chris arrives on the scene and befriends Joshua. He just arrived in the city.

When Raoul pays Joshua and Jacob a visit, he brings along friends, Zac and Daniel. The five boys go out for the night, with Chris tagging along. Zac mentions to Raoul that he finds Jacob interesting, but sadly nothing happens between the two. Meanwhile, Joshua introduces Chris to Daniel and the two hit it off. They're not seen again for the rest of the evening. The next day, the three out-of-towners go back home. Chris and Daniel remain friends.

Some time later, Joshua and Jacob meet Simon at a social group. He is a nice boy, similar to Joshua. Simon has a friend named Michael and is introduced to the two. Joshua and Jacob think that they be something between Simon and Michael but neither can be sure. Michael goes out and spends some time with Joshua and Jacob, but after a while, he goes back to his on-again, off-again boyfriend, Brad, and disappears. Meanwhile, Simon is introduced to Chris and he becomes part of the group, but not before Chris chastises Simon for flirting with partnered Michael.

Joshua and Jacob visit Raoul. At the same time, they catch up with Zac and Daniel. Daniel introduces his friend Sammy. Sammy is hyperactive, but he seems like a nice guy. He tells Joshua and Jacob that he'll come visit them in their city.

A week later. Sammy arrives and catches up with Jacob. Joshua is unavailable. Jacob shows Sammy around the city. Sammy meets Billy who is introduced to Jacob. Jacob finds Billy attractive. Billy needs a new place to stay. He is from out of town, too. Jacob remembers Chris mentioning that he needs a new roommate. Jacob brings Billy around to Chris' house and the two hit it off. Billy moves in. Sammy goes home.

Meanwhile, Chris tells Simon about his new roommate. Simon comes around to meet Billy. He finds him attractive, too. Simon begins to flirt with Billy, knowing that Jacob liked him first. Jacob and Simon come to blows. Jacob feels Simon didn't respect him while Simon doesn't see anything wrong with what he did. Billy remains unawares and Chris finds the whole thing amusing. Joshua watches silently from the sidelines.

Simon's friend, Lars, arrives from out of town and he is introduced to Chris. Lars has a boyfriend back home. The three spend Saturday night drinking at Simon's house. Simon sleeps at the guest bed, while Chris and Lars sleep in his. Simon wakes up in the middle of the night hearing Chris and Lars fucking. Simon is not happy but doesn't confront either. Lars goes back home the next day and Simon confronts Chris. The two come to blows. Simon feels Chris didn't respect him while Chris doesn't see anything wrong with what had happened. Jacob finds the whole thing amusing and Joshua still watches from the sidelines. It is unsure whether Lars remains unawares.

Cue today. Joshua and Jacob are still friends but as for the rest of the group, well, that seems up in the air.

Confused? Me, too.

Training For Melons

So about October of last year, I was in pretty serious training mode trying to look my best for an upcoming holiday. I was motivated. I was determined. And aside from the occasional slip with alcohol and a handful of chocolates now and then, I was pretty disciplined. I was resolute on achieving my super fantastic gym body.

And I got there; stripping my body fat levels down to single figures as well as putting on a few kilos of pure muscle on my relatively small frame. It took lots of sweats, plenty of grunts and a heap load of persistence. It was the best I've ever looked.

Now, fast forward six months and I find a softer, fatter and a much lazier version of my former fabulous pre-holiday self.

It's not like I didn't try. I jumped straight onto the gym floor pretty much as soon as I'd stepped off the plane to get rid of the excess holiday baggage. I pumped the same weights. I ran on the same treadmills. I went to the same aerobic classes. But nothing.

No improvements, no change in the last three months since jumping back on that fitness wagon. If anything, I'd gotten worse. When not out eating junk and imbibing beer, you could probably find me actually training. Even then, it's only half-heartedly and only once or twice a week. The problem is that I no longer had anything to work towards. Sure, there's my health as the ultimate goal, but I need something more tangible. A definite line on the horizon.

This is where my friend Simon comes in. A budding photographer, he is looking to diversify his portfolio of landscape shots to include studies of portraits and human movement images.

Simon: Can you help me?
Me: With what?
Simon: Can you be one of my models for a new portfolio?
Me: Erm...
Simon: C'mon, please, I'm desperate!
Me: Well, since you make it sound so enticing...
Simon: Thanks!
Me: What is it exactly that I need to pose for?
Simon: Oh, I'm gonna surround you with fruit. And you're gonna be semi-naked. It'll be awesome. You still workout, right?
Me: Well, more or less...

I'm on my second day of a strict training regime.

I'm sore, I'm tired and damn, I'm hungry. But boy, I feel fantastic. I'm motivated again and I'm feeling that same crazy passion for the gym I had months ago. Just as well. I only have 12 weeks to get the temple looking good again... or Simon is gonna have a hard time finding watermelons in the middle of winter, you know, to hide all the flab.

Sure, he's smiling. But the bastard already looks lean...
and clothed.