Why We Love the Gays

Three tidbits about gay marriage crossed my path today:

• Justice & Jizz. Norway’s parliament voted today to legalize same-sex marriages and give lesbians the right to artificial insemination as long as the sperm donor is identified so kids can find their biological fathers when they turn 18. Check out the AFP story to learn more.
• Gay Wedding Business Boom. In less than a week, the first gay couples will tie the knot in California, and the media is abuzz with stories about the economic impact the wedding celebrations will have on the state. How will the right wing nuts spin that good fortune into a bad news scenario?
• Virgin Atlantic’s “If You Wanted to Sleep with Him…” Commercial. It’s sweet, syrupy and allegedly banned, but I adore this little slice of advertising fluff. Enjoy the day, muffins!

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Tags: gay, gay humor, gay marriage

I was minding my own business this afternoon — alphabetizing my vodka bottles and listening to the brilliant new Cyndi Lauper CD — when my gay BFF Hamilton dropped by with a few sketches for the master bedroom suite in my country house. Besides being one of my favorite gays, Hamilton is a gifted interior designer.

“Did you hear about the lesbians?” he asked.

“What does that have to do with your design for my new bedroom?” I asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” Hamilton said. “But I thought you’d like to know since you’re such a fabulous friend of the gay community.”

I asked Hamilton for the details. He asked me for a pomegranate martini. As soon as we both had fresh cocktails, we went out onto the terrace to chat.

“I was reading online earlier in the day,” Hamilton said. Translation: He was surfing porn sites and accidentally saw something in his Google results. “Three people on the island of Lesbos are going to court to try and stop lesbian groups from using the word ‘lesbian’ because they say it should only be used to describe native islanders.”

As Hamilton continued with his explanation, I drifted into a reverie about my first visit to Greece. It was with my second husband and the trip was a hedonistic safari crammed with too much booze, food and sex and too little common sense. I burned my nipples on the beach. I lost my favorite Cartier watch in a dive bar in Athens. And I gained 10 pounds on my hips.

When I tuned back in, Hamilton was nearing the end of his Grecian monologue. I smiled and nodded, pretending that I’d heard every word. Later in the day, after we’d enjoyed two more martinis, reviewed sketches of the bedroom suite and Hamilton left for a gym workout, I jumped online to learn more about the Lesbos controversy.

If you have a few minutes, the Guardian does a sweet job of capturing the essence of the story.

Tags: gay, gay humor, lesbians, Lesbos

During a quiet dinner with Hamilton, Cooper and Cooper’s mother last night, the subject of drag queens came up when I mentioned a recent encounter with a sales clerk in a shop in the West Village.

“His makeup and outfit were flawless, but her voice was like a foghorn,” I said. “There’s no way she’ll win RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

Cooper’s mother looked more than a little confused. “You just said ‘his makeup’ and ‘her voice,’ right?”

I nodded.

“And you’re talking about the same person?”

Another nod.

“Well, I’m sorry to be so dense,” Miriam said. “I know I’m from Ohio, but how can someone be both a him and a her?”

Cooper laughed. “That’s what happens when someone’s a drag queen, Mom! We’ve talked about this before. Don’t you remember Brian Sanderson? The guy that lived down the street when I was growing up?”

Miriam thought for a moment. “You mean the guy from your drama class?”

“Yep, that’s the one,” Cooper said, winking at me. “Brian now performs at a club in San Francisco, but his stage name is Brianna.” Continue Reading »

Tags: drag queens, gay, gay humor, RuPaul

I love my gay BFFs because they make such yummy eye candy for one and all.

For example, Hamilton called this morning and said, “What do you think of the video ‘Boys in Briefs’?”

The title reminded me of “Naked Boys Singing,” so I asked if “Boys in Briefs” was a new off-Broadway musical.

Hamilton laughed. “Uh, it has music, but it’s not a musical.”

“Stop being so obtuse,” I said. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll send you the link,” Hamilton said. “Check your email in a sec.”

I made a fresh martini, logged onto my account and found Hamilton’s note. With a link. To a very, very, very hot video.

I think you might like it, kids. I mean, whether you’re a man or a woman, hetero or queer, there’s something about shapely men, shapely packages and skimpy briefs.

Enjoy the scenery!

Tags: briefs, gay, gay men, hunks

Olivia and I were walking up Madison Avenue yesterday afternoon, en route to Prada and Miu Miu, when I glanced across the street and saw my gay BFF Duncan talking with an impossibly handsome guy.

“Look at that, Liv.” I pointed at Duncan and the hunk. “Do you think that’s one of Duncan’s clients?”

Although Duncan had been avoiding me since I learned he’s a sex worker and not an investment banker, I was completely over the shock and awe of his erotic occupation. I’d left him a gazillion messages during the past few weeks, but he hadn’t returned my calls. Andrew and Tyler said Duncan was mortified that I’d learned about his secret profession, but I’d told them to let him know I accepted him no matter what he did for a living.

“Let’s go over and say hello,” I suggested to Olivia. “He’s been avoiding me for the longest time, and I want him to know I love him no matter what.”

“Is he still self-conscious about the whole escort thing?”

I nodded. “Apparently,” I said. “Otherwise, I don’t know why he’s been so illusive.”

We quickly crossed the street and walked up behind Duncan. I tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Surprise, stranger!”

He spun around and gasped. “Lulu!” He gulped and glanced at Olivia. “Liv!”

“Oh, my God!” I said. “You remember our names!”

Duncan blushed and looked at the other guy. “Well, of course, I remember your names. I’ve been meaning to return your—”

The other guy smiled and offered his hand. “Hey, Lulu,” he said. “My name’s Gage Garrett. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Duncan nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been telling Gage about the whole gang. He’s been dying to meet everyone, but we’ve both been so busy.”

I lowered my sunglasses and winked at Duncan. “Busy with work?”

He blushed again. “Well, uh…”

“Work and play,” Gage said. “We just got back from Cozumel. And before that we were in Palm Springs. Our schedules have been insane, but we’re finally home for a few days.”

“Home?” I peered at Duncan over my shades. “As in, a shared residence?”

Duncan’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He simply stared at me with a wan smile as Gage once again filled in the blanks.

“Well, it’s actually shared residences,” he said. “We just bought a place in Sag Harbor. You should all come out some weekend. It’d be fabulous to get to know you and what better place than the country?”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” I said. “So to speak. You guys are living together and working together?” I glared at Duncan. “How long has this been going on?”

Gage laughed. “Not that long,” he said. “We met at the AVN Awards in January. It was like love and lust at first sight.”

“The what awards?” Olivia asked.

“The AVN Awards,” Gage said. “They’re the Oscars of the porn world.” Continue Reading »

Tags: gay, gay humor, gay porn

Where did the week go? I had every best intention to keep up with my gay BFFs during the past few days, but an especially delicious gentleman from Philadelphia swept me off my feet, into a waiting town car, which dropped us on the tarmac at Teterboro Airport where we boarded his G4 for a blissful flight to Martinique.

And then, it was three nights and four days of romance and adult pleasure: moonlit walks on the beach, an endless flow of champagne, flawless seafood meals and mind-blowing sex.

How did I ever get so lucky? It was ecstasy, paradise and heaven on earth, but it paled in comparison to Kathy Griffin’s appearance last night on CNN with Larry King.

The D-List diva was in rare form, keeping Mr. King on his toes the entire show. At one point, he seemed so unnerved by Kathy’s rapid-fire delivery that his left suspender threatened to slip off his bony shoulder.

Although Kathy ruffles feathers and dishes fearlessly about some of the entertainment world’s biggest names and curiosities—Oprah and Gayle King, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, Alec Baldwin, Ryan Seacrest and Clay Aiken, I adore her because she’s sassy, intelligent, cheeky and a huge friend of the gay community.

If you missed the show, kids, it’ll be rebroadcast on Sunday evening and Mr. K said it would also be featured as the podcast of the week. Plus, her Emmy Award-winning Bravo TV series returns on Thursday AND she’s hosting Bravo’s “A-List Awards” (featuring awards for Biggest Drama Queen, Best Butt, Best Chef and Biggest Cewebrity) the same evening.

I cannot wait! They taped the “A-List Awards” in New York on Tuesday, and it sounds like it’ll be worth your time: guests include Lance Bass, a strap-on and a sleek, slim Margaret Cho; Kathy explains that it’s okay to say “c*cksucker” on Bravo as long as it’s not used in a manner that’s offensive to the gays; and, Dina and Ali Lohan (have you seen their E! train wreck, “Living Lohan”?) get verbally slapped by Kathy for canceling their appearance four hours before the show taped. Check out Lindsay Mannering’s story on The Huffington Post for an inside peek at the taping.

If you love Kathy like I love Kathy, this is going to be a very good week! Plus, her new CD, “For Your Consideration,” will be released on June 17! Delicious, delicious, delicious! 

Tags: Bravo TV, gay, gay humor, Kathy Griffin

From: SuperCooper
To: LBNYC10021
Date: June 02
Subject: Best Blowjob in the World

Lulu,

Okay, so you know I adore The Look Book in New York magazine, right? Well, can I tell you that those mofo bitches are homophobic as hell?

I was on Canal Street during my lunch break from the new temp job. I was looking flawless, chatting with Simon on the phone, waiting to cross Lafayette, and this guy smiles at me and acts like he wants to say something. I tell Simon I’ll call him right back, thinking maybe it’s somebody I slept with during one of my trashy, drunken phases (last Thursday night, for example). Although those phases are far too numerous to count and I can barely remember one-tenth of what happened, there was a certain glint in the guy’s eye that made me think it was possible we’d slept together. Or at least fondled one another in a dark backroom or something. Anyway, I told Simon I’d call him back and gave the guy my best “have-we-hooked-up?” expression. And he smilee and said his name was Glenn and could he take my picture for The Look Book in New York magazine.

And, I was instantly, like, OMG, right? I thought it was pure kismet because I was reading the magazine last night before my AA meeting and I became fixated on The Look Book photo of Ebeneezer Nii Sowah because his shoes were completely wrong for his outfit. Tattered brown wingtips with a smashing white suit.

But, anyway, Glenn asked for my name. And I told him. Then he asked for my occupation. I remembered the way Ebeneezer described himself: Student, Salesman, Actor. So, I smiled and said, “My occupation is Advertising Copywriter, Temp, Recovering Alcoholic, Blowjob Specialist.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Glenn stared at me for a few seconds, blinking and sneering. Then he closed his notebook, thanked me for my time and waddled off down the sidewalk.

And I stood there thinking: The mofo does not have a sense of humor. He’s a bit thick around the middle. And, he’s homophobic.

But, you know, Lulu. I am a blowjob specialist. After many years of experimentation and practice, I’ve perfected the formula for the best blowjob in the world. From having the right amount of saliva in my mouth and using my tongue to squeezing the base at opportune moments and all the rest, I’ve tweaked my technique over the years to the point of excellence.

If you post this on Why We Love the Gays, I hope your readers will share their comments about the Best Blowjob in the World. How do they define it? How do they do it? What do their lovers have to say about it?

I’m so pissed right now that I’m either going to get very, very drunk or find some hot guy and get very, very naked.

Or, better yet, maybe I can seduce my AA sponsor. He’s hot. He’s single. And he told me once that he absolutely loves great blowjobs. Don’t worry, Lulu. It was during one of our heated discussions about addiction and recovery, so it falls within the parameters of our AA relationship.

Gotta run. See you at home later!

Much love,

Coop

Tags: blowjob, gay, gay humor, gay men, Look Book

I’ve fallen in love.

With a woman.

And she’s not even real.

It started last night when I was waiting for Cooper and his mother to return from their family therapy session (cocktails, half a pack of Dunhills and vicious gossip about relatives). We were scheduled to join Andrew and Tyler for dinner at eight, and I decided to relax with a little television while I waited.

After finishing my makeup and selecting my outfit, I flopped on the bed, clicked on the television and started channel surfing. I wasn’t in the mood for political news, mindless sitcoms or reality shows, so I raced from one program to the next at breakneck speed.

Until I landed on Logo’s “The Click List: Best in Short Film” and saw my new love: Prada Handbag.

She was wearing an outrageous wig, wildly imaginative clothes and angelic expression. For the next 20 minutes or so, I was enchanted by Prada’s story, a campy, contemporary fable about bitchy drag queens, unconventional individuality, courage and self acceptance.

As soon as the film ended, I clicked off the TV, grabbed my laptop and went to Logo’s site to learn more about Prada Handbag, the woman and the film. Long story short: they’re both the ingenious work of Stuart Vauvert, an Australian filmmaker whose previous films include Heather Locklear Chocolate, the story of a young, man’s obsession with nail polish, and Hitch Cock, a parody of Alfred Hitchcock’s 1929 classic Blackmail.

I also spent far too much time ogling the official Prada Handbag site. It has tons of great photos, info about the cast and crew, and a list of awards and festivals. I particularly liked this quote from Vauvert: “The wacky, superficial world of drag was a perfect backdrop to tell a story of a young woman desperately trying to find herself in a world obsessed with convention and beauty. It seemed ideal to tell a story of self-discovery in a world of transvestites; who themselves are a minority.”

Isn’t that delicious? I am truly, madly, deepy in love with Prada Handbag. If you haven’t seen Prada Handbag yet, you can watch it on Logo’s site. Which, of course, I’ve already done about a gazillion times since yesterday.

I love Prada Handbag. Hope you feel the same!

Tags: gay, gay films, gay humor, Prada Handbag, Stuart Vauvert

My brother and his lover spent Memorial Day weekend in Portland and they sent a note to tell me about Sam Adams, the city’s first openly gay mayor.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a dolt when it comes to politics outside of New York, so I was glad Christopher and Hugh filled me in on Sexy Sam. After reading their missive, I did a little online research and found a gazillion articles about Sam’s May 20 victory.

I like his key issues, including education, the environment, diversity, arts and culture, but I like his look even more. He reminds me of my fourth husband: the glasses, the boyish good looks, an exemplary dedication to good deeds. While my ex-husband’s interpretation of “good deeds” swerved from charitable donations and volunteering at a soup kitchen to sleeping with every single woman in our building, I trust Sam Adams will stay on the path and deliver a promising future to Portland.

Here’s my favorite Sam quote: “I’m running not to be a gay mayor, but a great mayor. But I’m very cognizant, very aware that I’m the first openly gay mayor of a major American city. That’s a real honor.”

We’re living in interesting times—gay marriage in California, Sam Adams’ election in Portland and the announcement this week that New York will recognize same-sex marriages performed in other states or countries.

Wouldn’t it be fabulous if these new developments were just the beginning of  a nationwide change?

Tags: gay, gay men, Portland mayor, Sam Adams

Nora, Olivia and I met Andrew and Tyler late last night to catch one of the first screenings of “Sex and the City.”

Long story short: OMG! Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte are back, and they’re more delicious than ever before. I absolutely devoured every last frame! From the gorgeous fashions and flirtatiously seductive acting to the enduring friendships, pop culture power and scintillating plot twists, I adored the movie.

As soon as I got back home, I scrambled for my laptop to track down news coverage about the big event. I read Greg Marzullo’s intelligent piece in The Washington Blade and Joal Ryan’s E! Online article about whether men will go see the movie because it’s a “chick flick.”

And then, just as I clicked through to The New York Times’ coverage (“The Girls Are Back in Town”), my phone rang. It was Simon. He was laughing hysterically. And babbling unintelligibly.

“Honey, slow down,” I said. “What’s the problem?”

More hysterical laughter and unintelligible babbling.

“Are you okay? Is Heath okay? Are you guys okay?”

After a few minutes of questions followed by babbling, Simon caught his breath.

“God, I’m so, so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to do that. We just…”

He stopped and I could hear someone whispering in the background.

“Is that Heath?”

And then I heard another someone whispering in the background.

“Or is that one Heath?”

Simon tried to cover his phone, but I could hear him talking in hushed tones. I’ve had years of experience eavesdropping and straining to hear conversations that aren’t particularly my business, so I picked up a few choice words: “enormous tool,” “don’t usually do this” and “hottest ass in town.” Continue Reading »

Tags: gay, gay humor, gay men, Sex in the City