It’s been a big week on HERE WE ARE GOING . . . most hits, likes, and new followers ever. So, while my specialty may seem to be the lugubrious contemplation of my life, the truth is, I’m really a fun guy. (Shut the fuck up. Stop laughing. I mean it.)
I am fun. No matter what anyone else says. The irony being, many of those “anyone else’s” most likely to dispute my “fun” to whom I refer consider me their GBF. That’s GayBestFriend; in case you didn’t know. Turns out I’ve been in training for this role since – well – birth. Early on I was encouraged to “walk the walk” which came as naturally to me as did my love for Judy Garland, Broadway musicals, and shirtless pics of David Cassidy and Bobby Sherman.
Now, come to find out, there’s a movie coming out called “GBF” –
So much a part of the zeitgeist has GBF acquisition become that everyone must accessorize with one of us; I am about to become a living, breathing Birkin bag. If I thought I was busy before – having to leave my batcave at least once or twice a month for a cocktail – well, gurrrrrl, when this cinematic treasure hits the multiplexes, I imagine I will not have a moment to call my own, so busy will I be spouting witty barbs and offering fashion advice. So, uhm, current roster of those who claim me as GBF – better book me NOW!
Now there is a GBF I could get behind. Or, perhaps, to whom I could kneel in reverent supplication or maybe even . . . I should stop, it’s about to get ugly and messy. Thing is, I too will be celebrating a birthday – although, “celebrating” is not exactly the right word. I won’t be in Brazil with a lover half my age – although I hasten to add that I would be if I could be – in Brazil or with a lover or half my age or – again – STOP – about to get ugly and messy again.
I’ll be hanging here and there with those who call me GBF. And when I type “hanging” – I mean not only “spending time with” but, also, that unlike Marc Jacobs, I am hardly Speedo material – I am, quite literally, hanging; my flesh a saggy, un-toned appropriate wrapping for my age (he says while stuffing Tastykake chocolate mini-donuts down his gullet). And there I went, despite my best efforts, getting ugly and messy.
Happy weekend. And happy birthday to me. And on a final note, here is a hilarious YouTube video of what would happen if body parts wrote to one another: the penis and the hand have a difficult relationship. Enjoy!