Sorry to disappoint, kids, but this blog article, the very first of 2021, has nothing to do with hooking up with some rando (i.e. “strange”) from a local bar, bathhouse, or Craigslist. You know, COVID and all. But, also, I’m happily off the market. Besides, I was never really into that type of scene, anyway—regardless of who you may talk to later. I always preferred to get to know a guy before allowing things to turn intimate. Well, I’d at least learn his first name (in almost all cases) and tax bracket before taking that next step. What can I say? With me, there is usually slash rarely a . . .
Recently, a friend told me that I was the gay, male version of Taylor Swift. I agreed, we laughed, and then both promptly ordered another round of mimosas. Okay, that’s not entirely true. This bitch is currently off the sauce—six months and counting. We’ll see how long sobriety lasts, because in these dark and trying times (yes, I’m referring to all of the excess holiday weight I’ve gained), nothing quite comforts me like eighteen dirty martinis. Anyway, I’m not exactly sure what my friend and I ordered another round of, but it’s a safe bet that it was something deep-fried. Me likes my . . .
Recently, I looked back at it . . . I mean, I looked back at my website and took inventory of my latest blog articles. From titles alone, I seem like a bitter, angry, scorned, shrill (enter your favorite adjective) bitch. And, despite what you may think you know about me, I don’t want to be any of those things. Further, I don’t ever want to be thought of as cynical or negative. If 2020 has taught us anything, it’s that life is precious. Not always easy, not always fun, but it beats the alternative. Therefore, we need to enjoy as much of it as we can. Instead of complaining about every foul . . .