Paper Man

"Are we unhappy? Or are we just pretending to be unhappy?" -- Richard Dunn

 Pretentious Asshats, check. Ignorant Douche-Bags, check. Intelli-Cunts, check. Three down. Two more to go. If you bothered to read my blog post yesterday, you'll possibly, though not probably, remember that I said this post would be about Historically Inaccurate Exes. really, though I have decided to relabel it as Anachronistic Exes. I suppose an expansion of this could be made which includes current romantic partners as well. Realistically though, I haven't had much experience with current romantic interests. I just realized though that I didn't define these people just yet. Forgive me. I should do that. My brain hasn't been making the sense it should be as of late, so I should probably offer definition first, then go on a lengthy rant about them.

Love, Actually

"You would've broken my heart if you'd said yes." -- Juliet 

This is, I think, the last in my series regarding The Things I Have Learned From The Boys I Have Kissed. I've been considering posting this for the past month or so as I have evaluated my short-lived relationship with Jacob Buss. I am going to lose friendships with five or six people because of this post, and that is the primary reason I have tried so hard to not post a continuation of this series. As always, there is a story here but it is relatively short, compared to the previous stories I have told regarding the boys I have kissed.

Salt

"Let me guess, you're one of those people who thinks everyone is who they say they are." - Evelyn Salt

Thus, it continues. Yesterday, I introduced you to my most-hated subset of humanity. I dubbed these people Pretentious Asshats. Today, I would like to direct your attention to the second worst type of human being on the face of the planet. I like to refer to them as Ignorant Douche Bags. While they may seem fairly self-explanatory on the basis of their name alone, realistically, there are subtle nuances in the descriptors and characteristics of Ignorant Douche Bags which makes them near impossible to identify.

"Why?" You ask, ever-eager to hear my long-awaited and hopefully illuminating diatribe.

That's easy. Ignorant Douche Bags are near impossible to identify, because they are wholly aware of their status. You see, Ignorant Douche Bags are the type of person who knows that they are ignorant, and have made a conscious decision to remain as such. No, you didn't read wrong. Let me think of a more complete way to explain this phenomenon.

How To Lose Friends and Alienate People

"You thought Brad Pitt was a cave in Yorkshire." -- Sidney Young 

This is part one of a five part series. It was originally inspired by [this post] by Katrina, who spoke on the types of people you meet at Goodwill. I was going to talk about the five types of people I seem to have in my life, when I then realized a far more controversial, by which I mean amusing and ultimately painful, post would be to discuss the five types of people I loathe with every cilia of my essence, which is a five dollar way of saying, every fiber of my being. I should preface this with the declaration that, while I may talk about hating people a lot, I am in fact very tolerant. Far more tolerant than most, and infinitely more tolerant than some. I have a very high line of bullshit that I can endure without resorting to anger, annoyance or frustration. I have an uncanny ability to smile at anybody. There are, however, five types of people I genuinely hate, and should you find yourself in one of these categories, you are very likely to never get off of my shit list. Ever. This first post, introduction aside, is intended to specifically illustrate the first, and most serious type of person I hate. Pretentious Asshats. See image for clarification.

The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy

"The very worst poetry in the universe was written by one Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Sussex. Thankfully it was destroyed when the earth was." -- The Book.

Continuing my three-part series on my Needs, Wants and Do-Not-Wants with regard to relationshippy goodness, I spent most of my morning at work in deep discussion with myself. If you read my post, entitled Latter Days, yesterday, or today, you'll likely remember that I identified three needs in a potential relationship. I should clarify, since it was brought up to me, that I acknowledge that I am the common denominator in all of my relationships. I should also note that anybody who says this is a sodding idiot who obviously doesn't understand the human heart, or the ways in which people interact. While I am the common denominator in all of my relationships, there are other aspects to a relationship which add, or detract from the dynamic. So if you're one of those douche bags, go away, before I kick you and throw sticks at your face. That said, let us continue, shall we?

Cinderella

Leave Britney Alone!

"All the dreamers in the world are dizzy in the noodle." - Fairy Godmother

This is the start of a new series. It is entitled Glee Episodes I Want To See. Essentially, it boils down to this: I watch Glee, a lot. Like I have every episode, attained through entirely legal means of course, on my computer. I watch through my favorites on the regular. I also watch each individual episode at least four times within a week or the original airing. It's pretty ridiculous actually. Wait, no it's not, it's amazing! Anyway, as any fan(atic) I am convinced that my ideas are a million times better than  anything the show's creators could come up with. Obviously, my years of experience in television production, casting and choreography are being wasted. Shut up, don't judge me. My first installment, if you haven't guessed from the picture I chose is a tribute to Internet Fame.

Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace

Yeah, it's kinda like that.

"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering." -- Yoda

I got a text message from a good friend of mine yesterday afternoon. It essentially presented me with two choices she had to weigh against one-another. She was trying to pick between two guys, one who was fresh and new, and one who she knew loved her but was old and tired. My answer was almost instant, "Pick the option that moves your story forward."

She seemed to like that answer well enough, and thanked me, but I had to clarify what I meant because when I say this to somebody, I always feel like they don't really understand what I mean. It's not that I think my friends are stupid, I just don't think most people understand the way my brain works when it is trying to make decisions.

Get Real

"The strange thing is, after I, done that to you ... all I could think of doing was holding you to make it all right, and I knew, I really knew, that I've never loved anyone so much." -- John Dixon

Continuing the series concerning The Things I Have Learned from the Boys I Have Kissed, I give you the story of Adam: The Mormon from Utah. This boy happened to educate me on the power of forgetting yourself and your ideals for the sake of adventure. This is what established my mentality of moving the story forward. That mentality is important, because it has managed to make my life rather entertaining from time to time, and it is one of the few universal mandates that I observe on a daily basis.


For the sake of exposition and establishment of setting, this story takes place in June of 2005, in the Arizona High Desert, specifically, a simple place called Arcosanti where I spent several years following high school. As I'm sure you can imagine, it's hot outside. On this particular night, I was a quiet, and I mean that, quiet 20 year-old man. At that point, I had only ever kissed three people, and one of them was a girl. I had only had sex with three people, and one of them was unwillingly. I was new to the world, not even 21, which is when I would blossom into the person I genuinely enjoyed being. I was a weekend warrior, my friends and I would have adventures in the shape of parties every weekend and during the summertime, the party-place was the Arbor. It was a nicely enclosed location with a great view of the river, and a sense of inclusion to it. My best friend at the time would be Talullah-Jewel, who taught me to love red wine, and would share drinks with me when we were dancing under the stars. This was one of those parties. 

Gleewind : S01E01

Cheerios rule WMHS

"Quoi," you ask incredulously, having been formerly introduced to a Gleecap, you stare in awe and confusion at the word Gleewind, and ponder <<What is that?>>

Well, observant reader, a Gleewind is very similar to a Gleecap, in that it recaps and reviews an episode of Glee. What makes it different from a Gleecap? Well, it came to my attention that we'll be having a break from Glee here after the Christmas episode. Seeing as how people seem to enjoy m gleecaps, I thought it might be a nice treat to post retroactive recaps of the previous episodes so that those people who read the blog, but don't watch Glee, can be caught up on the backstory and what's happened up till now. They'll follow the same general format as the previous gleecaps, except that there will be no spoiler warnings, and they'll be easier to find in a pinch due to the title change. If you have any questions, concerns, comments or thoughts, please, don't hesitate to let me know, and I will strive with all of my might to make you happy. That said, Season One, Episode One. I will be recapping the initial aired pilot. I was going to do the Director's Cut, but I realized that there isn't much in the Director's Cut that isn't explained better later in the season and my recaps are long enough already. Hell, I haven't even started, and it's already several paragraphs worth of information. That said, fade in. 

"You think that's hard? I'm living with herpes. That's HAARD!"

 Our opening scene is of the stars of William McKinley High School, located in Lima, Ohio, The Cheerios. Primary antagonist of the first season, Sue Sylvester is seen right away in her signature tracksuit in which she utters one of several fantastic lines throughout the season, "You think this is hard? Try being water-boarded, that's hard." Which cuts immediately to the title card. I have to admit that I am actually a huge fan of Glee's title card. i have always been a major proponent of the extended intro with a theme song of some sort, but Ii think Glee manages to pull off the simple card with a brief intro much better.

The title fades to a shot of an unfortunate exhaust situation, which we learn is piloted by WMHS' Spanish Teacher, Will Scheuster. he leaves his vehicle, what a sad unfortunate piece of crap they both are. Seriously, it will be brought up time and time again, Will's hair is just plain unforgivable. Even Justin Timberlake couldn't rock the perm, buddy. He was even in a boy-band. Regardless, I'm sure plenty of time will be spent making fun of Will's hair, so this leads us to exposition time. Remember, the point of a pilot is to get us hooked on the characters, whom we meet in relatively humorous, seamless ways. 

Noah, Kurt, Mystery Footballer and Finn

First up, Kurt Hummel, Noah Puckerman and Finn Hudson. Noah is making preparations to toss Kurt into the dumpster as Mr. Scheuster walks by and asks if he's making new friends. Kurt pleads that the footballers spare his jacket, which happens to be a part of Marc Jakobs' new collection, and Finn holds his jacket while Noah and a nameless groupie toss Kurt into suffer his stinky fate. As a transition of sorts, we get our very first introduction to Quinn Fabray, who, for now is unimportant, but, in time will play a crucial role in the ongoing success, trials and tribulations of the Glee Club. 

Q.

A bell rings, and we find Will Scheduster staring into a trophy case admiring a trophy from back in the day, when Glee Club was all the rage. This quickly fades to his teaching his Spanish class, which will play almost no part in the series whatsoever. Frankly, I'm not even sure why a Spanish teacher is taking over Glee Club anyway, it seems pretty dang darn ridiculous to me, and not in the Harry Potter way that dresses your teachers up like your grandmother. HPRFTW. Finn is in his class, which must be important because they keep zooming in on him. It's not important, but I felt the need to point out that the production value of this pilot is pretty darned hilarious. 

In the next scene, and I use that term lightly because it is less than five seconds long and seems completely out of place, we meet both Sandy Ryerson and Rachel Berry. We will hear from both of them later, but for now, know that Sandy is feeling all up on Hotty McHotpants, and Rachel is none too thrilled about this situation. Sandy Ryerson is a character I can relate to. I have had teachers like this. I have worked with teachers like this. I will give Glee props in one department hyperbolic portrayals of real-life situations and people. 

In the teachers lounge, we find that Figgins, the principal, has taken away the coffee pots due to budget cuts. The football coach, Ken Tanaka, is kinda pissed and suggest striking. Will sort of mutters something, and Sue Sylvester saves the day with lattes all around. In the meantime, Emma Pillsbury enters and takes a seat. There is some bickering about Sue going over budget to pay for a nutritionist for her cheerleaders, dubbed The Cheerios, in case you missed it. Eventually, Sue leaves, and we can tell she is going to be big trouble in little high school. >_> That sounded better in my head, as I'm sure most of the dialogue between Will, Ken and Emma must've sounded inside Ryan Murphy's head. I'm pretty sure the jew writers didn't get hired until the second half of the first season cause this shit is dryer than Thanksgiving leftovers without gravy. It is established pretty early that Emma likes Will and that Ken likes Emma. 

The pearls make it classy.

Will learns that Sandy Ryerson got fired and he wants to take over the glee club. Figgins says it will take $60 per month to keep the club running, and that he expects Will to pay it. Furthermore, we learn that Will needs to use the costumes and props they already have, and that he can't use the stools because wood shop needs them. Bell-ring transition, which by the way, thankfully disappears after this season. Seriously, listening to the bell ring every time the scene changes is like stabbing my ears with a number 2 pencil over and over again. This fades, actually, I'm pretty sure it's a wipe-transition. I'm starting to think this was edited in iMovie. Anyway, transitions to Will, shirtless, in bed, with his wife Terri. They look adorable, and he looks like he hasn't worked out in a while. Regardless, first obligatory shirtless scene in the series, and we're only four minutes into the show. Legit. No joke. He blah blahs to himself in voice over, then decides on a new name for the glee club, New Directions. 

"To this day, we still don't know which one is my real dad."

Over the next several scenes, we meet the future gleeclubbers. Mercedes who sings RESPECT; Kurt, who sings Mr. Cellophane; Tina, who sings I Kissed A Girl; Artie who ... surprisingly doesn't sing anything; and Rachel, who sings On My Own. We also get to see the first ever slushie to the face. We learn that Rachel msot certainly did not get Sandy Ryerson fired, by which I mean she did, because he gave Hotty McHotpants the solo she deserved. We also learn that she has two gay dads who spoiled the shit out of her and made her believe she was the princess of the universe. JAP FTL. She posts daily myspace videos which are ridiculdby the Cheerios pretty harshly. By the by, we also get our first shot of Skanktana in this montage. 

Mercedes Jones sings RESPECT.

Kurt Hummel sings Mr. Cellophane from Chicago.

Tina Cohen-Chang sings I Kissed A Girl

Rachel Berry sings On My Own from the seminal Broadway Hit Les Mis.

Q and Santana make mean posts on Rachel's videos. 

Jazz hands FTW

This cuts to a scene of the Core5 performing a terrifying rendition of Sit Down Your Rocking the Boat, Artie, the boy in the wheelchair, hence referred to as Wheels, says that him singing the lead solo is an illustration of Schuester using irony to enhance the performance, to which Rachel says, "There's nothing ironic about showchoir." I never know how we're supposed to feel about Rachel. Half of the time, I love her for taking Show Choir so seriously, the other half of the time, I hate her for being such a cunt. 

Could this be more dramatic?

Cut to the Cheerios and Sue on the football field, with Schu and Rachel in the background. They have a heart to heart about how Rachel wants to be famous even though everybody hates her. She claims to need a male-lead who can match her mad skills. Figgins wants to kill glee club for the sake of hosting AA meetings in the Auditorium. Schu convinces him to reconsider, which leads to him agreeing to do detention for free. Which leads to another scene with Terri Scheuster, at her job at Sheets N' Things. They talk about Will taking extra hours, and we learn that they're trying to get pregnant, at one point, Terri utters the words, "I'm on my feet four hours a day, three times a week here. Now I have to go home and I have to cook dinner for myself?" What a cunt. I wish I only worked twelve hours a week. Shit I'd work one day get all twelve hours out of the way and be done with it. Shit son. 

"Being great at something makes you popular.

Sandy and Will have a quick talk about Will taking over glee. Sandy has taken this opportunity to be prescribed medical marijuaña and he sells what he doesn't use personally under the brand name Chronic Lady. (for medical use only) He puts a free sample in Schu's pocket, and goes to deal with someboyd who brought him a toilet sat cover that looks like barf. Meanwhile, back at school, oh wait, did I say meanwhile? I have no sense of time or travel at this school. Magically, Schu is back at school and meeting with Sue in her office. They discuss the future of Glee, and ways to get new students to join the glee club. Sue shoots down the idea, but school counselor Emma suggests getting a few popular kids would be a great idea. 

So, Will gets Ken to let him talk to the football team. This ends badly. That is, until he hears Finn Hudson singing in the shower. So, how to get him to join the glee club? Well, that's easy, plants drugs in his locker, and bring him to your office to black mail him into joining glee club, and blaming it on, "mandatory bi-weekly after school locker checks." Finn's response is gold, "I'll pee in a cup. I'll pee." Will goes pretty much ape shit and lays it on thick. I'm pretty sure there are laws against this kind of thing, not just the drug possession, but really?

Flashback to young Finn and his tragic mother. After some pointless history about he and his mother being really close and her losing her heart to some guy that spray-painted their grass green, we flash-forward to a performance of You're The One That I Want from Grease. Mercedes is all kinds of pissy and reminds us that this swayin' in the background ain't her thing. She calms down eventually, since she's not Rachel and gives two shits about the rest of the group.

Later that evening, in the craft room of the Schuester household, we learn that Terri has a problem with buying shit, and lots of it. Not even useful things, just stuff. Like numerous toilet-brush holders. We also learn that Will has some sort of degree to be an accountant, and that Will doesn't want to be an accountant, regardless of what Terri wants. After Terri turns him down to join him at an invitational with Glee club, Will puts a sign-up sheet in the Teachers Lounge, which garners Emma's name. 

That Saturday, at Carmel High, we learn that Finn is dating the head cheerleader, who happens to be President of the Celibacy Club. We also learn that Rachel is crushing hard core, and that Mercedes is latching onto Kurt. Aside from all of that, we discover that Vocal Adrenaline, the show choir from Carmel High is made of win and oozing with awesome-sauce. The glee club is ... disheartened. 

Back at school, while a mysterious group of people playing steel drums serenade the school, Finn is approached and punished for missing football practice due to the Saturday field trip. This is about the time we cut to the Schuester household, where Terri informs Will that she is pregnant, leading Will to telling the glee club that he is leaving. Everybody looks all sad and butthurt.

Eventually, Finn is seen on the football field, after a vague degree of pointless bullshit, where he is approached by the team, who have locked Artie in a porta-potty. Their suggestion is to tip said porta-

potty, leaving poor Artie stranded, their justification is that he's already in a wheelchair so it can't do too much damage. I'll admit it, I laughed. Finn saves Artie, and on their way off the field, he gets a brilliant idea! Journey. I hate Journey. I hate every Journey number they've done on this fucking show. If I never hear a Journey number it will be too soon. 

Finn rallies the troops. We learn that he and his friends threw pee-balloons at Kurt, and nailed all of his lawn furniture to his roof. I rofl'd. Finn convinces Artie to recruit the Jazz Band. He has Mercedes cover costuming, and Rachel takes care of Choreography. Kurt and Tina are there to look pretty it seems. Elsewhere in the school, Emma shows Will a video of him performing with Glee, which urges him to stay and go through with Glee club. 

As the show rounds out, we see the glee club, in the worst outfits known to mankind performing Journey's Don't Stop Believin' as Will looks on with approval, and a new found dedication to New Directions. 

Edge of Seventeen

"It hurts"

 This is the first of a series of posts I intend to make. The series theme? Things I Have Learned from Boys I Have Kissed. Please note the distinction that I have made here, a kiss does not imply dating, and specifically, I mention boys, as the bulk of these will have taken place prior to my triumphant return to Omaha in 2008. I started thinking of this about a week ago while I was sorting DVDs, the movie, Edge of Seventeen showed up and it intrigued me, because the only people who watch films like this are gay kids who are sick and tired of John Hughes being such a douche bag. Well, and creepy straight girls who spend their lives attached to gay men an can't find any real passion in their own lives. 

I'll admit that being the only out guy in high school meant that I got a lot of play from young men who would later become the proud homosexuals of Omaha North High School. It got me a lot more play from boys who would never come out ever in their entire life, and to this day will probably deny that they ever did anything with a man. I've been the tester for numerous guys and I think I'm kind of satisfied with that. Each experience taught me a lot about who I am, what I like, and what my limits, standards and expectations are. Aside from being an introductory post, this is also about one of the first boys I kissed. I'm pretty sure he falls into the second category of toe-dipper, but I'll freely admit, he had the biggest impact on my development as a man. 

His name was Zach. He wasn't the first boy I kissed, not by a longshot. He was actually somewhere in the middle. It was my senior year of high school, and I couldn't tell you what grade he was in if I tried. I do know that we only started talking via email at school. He was dating an obnoxious little mousey girl with an attitude. I asked him to homecoming. When he said he had a date already, I was disappointed, but we kept talking, and actually became pretty good friends. It wasn't until a few weeks later, via phone-call that he asked me to be his boyfriend. It was cute. This was important because up until this moment, I had always been the aggressor in any sort of interaction with men. He was a pretty fantastic guy, one of the few that I continued to talk to after departing Nebraska for Arizona. He loves ducks. He's a whole lotta punk-rock. He bites when he kisses, which has stuck with me ever since. He came to my school play on opening night and brought me a carnation, something nobody has ever done since. He would walk me from class to class and we'd sneak a kiss before disappearing into our classrooms. He wore black lipstick that left cute little marks that I wore with pride. 

I haven't spoken to him directly since 2005. We're friends on facebook, but I never know what to say to him to let him know just how formative he was in my youth. I won't go so far as to say I love him, but I definitely enjoyed him and adore the parts of him I find in others I meet on a daily basis. There is rarely a day that passes that I don't meet somebody who reminds me of him in some way, shape or form.