Queers.

I love gays.

Why wouldn't I? Why don't you? To me it's weird that somebody could be at the most, indifferent towards homosexuality. To me, hating gay people is the same as hating black people. Or Australians. Or people with blonde hair. Or people with freckles. It's nonsensical.

It's been over six years since gay marriage was passed in Massachusetts. The Commonwealth has yet to sink to the bottom of the ocean. The rainbow clad army has yet to lay siege on Beacon Hill, in a dictatorship, take over kind of way. I'm even willing to bet you have had just as much, good ol' fashion, American, heterosexual sex with your spouse.


If not, they make a pill for that.

I think it's hilarious. All these "good ol' boys", So appalled by the thought that not everybody has sex the same way they do. Confused about the fact that these fags don't get that love and marriage are between a man and a women. Then they beat off to gay porn:

I spelled aesthetics correctly on my first try. Then copied & pasted it here.

I love beer. I love beer a lot. I love all kinds of beer. I love reading about it, learning about it, and discovering new kinds of it. Sweet libations.

I love my girlfriend Sarah too. I love Sarah a lot. I love everything about her. I love that, after over a year.5, I am still learning and discovering things about her. I love that I DON'T have to read about her. Like in a newspaper, for cutting down trees in a preserved national park with dead baby seals. Or, her name on some dude's infinitely bigger then myself bicep, even though "he's just a good friend". Sweet love of my life.

Without getting to personal here, blog, with my one reader, Sarah. (Hey boo! :-D) Another thing I love about my girlfriend, is the way she's put together. Ya know, she looks good naked.

And there's the dilemma. I'm not going to stop drinking beer. And my girlfriend isn't going to stop looking good naked. I'm supposed to be her young piece of ass. However I'm almost 24, the days of putting whatever I want in my body, with no repercussions, are long gone.

I believe the odds were stacked against me from day one. Woman's bodies are just beautiful. There curvaceous splendor. Everything has a home, proportioned, and where it should be. A guy, no matter how much of an Adonis he may be, always has that one thing to muck it up. Forget how cut he is. Pretend he hasn't had laser surgery removing all the hair from his chest. No matter how good he looks naked, your eyes are always going to be drawn down. And then...

BLAM! PENIS! Just kind of hanging there. Pathetically. The testicals cowering behind the scenes. It doesn't belong. It's just there. Like it was stuck on last minute by the maker. "Oh shit, they might want to reproduce? Stick this excess here. Problem solved." Sure it's practical, but the aesthetics were clearly a non-issue.

Moral of the story: I'm going to get a gym membership. I'm not trying to be the peak of physical fitness. I just need to cancel out some of the hops.

Dont hold yourself like that, You'll hurt your knees.

Have you ever driven by a cop on a detail, and felt like they were at least half interested in what was going on? They always seem so slighted. Living in the Boston area, it's near impossible to not run into some sort of road work in your daily travels. It just seems like a lot of work to be offended by everybody, all the time.

What I've learned.

• I suck at keeping up with my blog.
• Cut on the correct side of the mark.
• The more money you spend on something, the higher quality product you will likely receive. The one exception is probably sex. Usually better when it's free.
• I probably have some decent advice to give to people, if only they would ask the right questions.
• I think every girl I have ever dated, is significantly smarter then myself.
• There is very little money to be made in theater. Yet I refuse to go back to school, and possibly make myself more hire-able. I refuse to pay somebody to educate me, when I learn more at work, then in class.
• Given enough time, I can learn how to do any aspect of my job in some form.
• There is in fact, such a thing as being over dressed.
• If you put a little effort into what you look like, people will take you serious.
• Cologne is overrated. A clean man has a pretty good natural scent.
• I own three different types of cologne.
• A women with her hair up, and no make-up is the best looking kind. You get drawn into the natural beauty. Their eyes. The way their face fits perfectly around the cheek bones. The curve of their lips. My girlfriend's face is radiant.
• The word "wife" excites me. Getting to tell people Sarah is my wife, yea, that's gonna be awesome.
• After working enough opera, and dealing with singers who truly know how to use their voices, all the musical theater I have done seems so frivolous.
• Buying a girl flowers is always a good idea. Even if they tell you they don't care for flowers.
• Wear the proper socks in accordance with your footwear. Shoes and plain white socks is never okay. No exceptions.
• It's always a good idea to carry a pen with you.
  

Know Hope.

I've been criticizing myself over the past few months for not keeping up on my fresh new blog. Reminding myself that my throngs of followers (Sarah) would be none to pleased with the absence of my literary stylings. Something will happen, and I say; "I should write about that!" Then the Celtics come on and I have a beer, or I look at my Bernard Hopkins glove, and have a beer. There are enough assholes writing about basketball, boxing and beer; so you, the reader, are at a loss.

I don't know how to use these- ;'s. But I like to throw them in my writing from time to time to make it seem like I do. And lets face it, you don't know either. Be impressed and move on.

My last entry was a link to my old Livejournal. My life from about 2005-2007. With many holes in the later days. I never seemed to be at a loss for words then. My readers were never left wanting more, as I posted 4 times a day. Really, that was my twitter. If I only knew then what I was onto.

It got me thinking. I'm certainly more intelligent now, then 19 year old Zach ever was. I've been threw much more, lived much more. How could he have more to say then the latest version of me? I lived on my own. Consumed something other then Bud Light and Crystal light. Stopped wearing headbands in public.

So after reviewing some of my old material I decided the only way I could get myself to write, was to go back to my root's. Put some AZ on iTunes, crack open a Bud Light, hide it from my parents and write about my day. Trouble is I didn't leave my house today.

My brother moved back home. First time the four of us have been under the same roof in about three years. Much has changed. Instead of me going out and hiding the fact that I have been drinking, I'm drinking at the dinner table with my father. And my brother is doing exactly the opposite. He sent me a text today, telling me he was going to come home to do some "step work with one of my guys." This peaked my interest. Was my brother a contractor? What the hell was wrong with our steps? I was midway through telling him I left all my tools at the shop, when I realized the kind of step work he was referencing. And just how useless me and my tools would be to him.

Then I cleaned my room. My mother taught CCD. And we had bacon and eggs for dinner. Maybe things haven't changed as much as I thought.

Crap. Do I have a signature tag I have been using to close these things?

~Zach

?

Look what I found...

http://zachv.livejournal.com/

Endless entertainment.

I promised you hate...

Rocca is sick. My friends are trying to see Transformers 2. Which brings me to this place, forcing conversation with myself. I was however, able to come up with a plot synopsis over dinner...



~ Corny Shia LaBeouf joke. Meghan Fox in slow motion. Corny Shia LaBeouf joke. Explosion. Explosion. Explosion. Meghan Fox in slow motion. Explosion. Meghan fox in slow motion with shit blowing up behind her. Copy. Paste. Repeat process 3 more times. Corny Optimus Prime Line. Roll credits.~



I jest of course. While I hated Transformers, (And anything else that Michael Bay is associated with to the best of my knowledge) I cant really hate on him. I have in the past, but that was more me being a pompous ass. I view his movies as a particular genre. They are made for entertainment. And I pray that is all. He's in the same category as Nickleback and Dan Brown. That completes my trifecta of suck. Well, suck according to me. But who the hell am I? They are all gozillionaires. That's the problem I have.



After a good conversation with Pat one day, I realized that books like Da Vinci Code, can exist in their own right. As entertainment. It's when people take them for more then that, that I draw the line. Books. Movies. Music. Any medium really, can exist for many purposes. Weather it be art, or mindless entertainment. Problem is, when somebody likes something, the take it as "good". I used to go crazy telling my friends how awful they were for reading Dan Brown. Then I would list of ten books that they should read, so that they could "actually read a good book". Though they would more then likely hate damn near any book I read. And that's the other side of the argument. People who read books and view it as a form of art, cant fathom that somebody wouldn't like their book. And dismiss those thoughts by insisting that people just don't understand it. Because they arnt smart enough. - I understood Hemingway's Old Man and the Sea. I just didn't like it very much. I recognize that it was good. But I didn't like it. (having said that, I was forced to read it when I was like 16, and am sure I would get something out of it today) Some people cant accept that.



The more I think about it, there really is no good excuse for Nickleback. They just suck. No exceptions. "I'll have the quesadilla..."



So there are, of course, two sides to every argument. I often found myself on the side that was belittling those who preferred the mindless entertainment. I stopped that, because like I said, it exists for a reason. But when somebody doesn't get that... It gets a bit absurd. Like the person who insits Da Vinci Code was a well written, classic, piece of literature. The other authors on this persons reading list often include Mitch Albom, John Grisham, Jose Canseco, Whoever Opera recommends and whatever Wizard or Dragon book is in that season. In today's culture, if somebody is actually reading a book, I say more power to them. But don't tell me about all the great books you read, when they are all essentially the same storyline, just with different names for the characters. I feel I'm repeating myself. I'll end with this, without sounding to pretentious... Next time you're reading a book, pay attention to what people around you are reading, on the train, at work or the gym. If you see five to ten people reading the exact same book. Or if Ron Howard or Steven Spielberg have bought the rights within a month of its release. Chances are, you arnt the avid reader you think you are. Which is perfectly fine, just spare the rest of the world from hearing about this great book your reading.

Now something I have no reservations about hating. Hipsters? Scene kids? I'm sure me using one of those terms is incredibly unhip. And whatever they call themselves has probably changed sixteen times since I started this entry.

Simply put: Anybody who describes themselves as hip. Is not. You're hip because. You don't talk about it. It's not something you strive for. You just are. I have seen kids make an effort to pull their pant leg up, in order to let everybody know they road their bike. That is not hip. Its the same as wearing sunglasses in a dimly lit room. There is no point. My brother is hip. He doesn't know it. Most of his friends probably don't even realize it. But he is. He does most of his shopping at Marshall's, or any other thrift store. Not to find obscure articles of clothing, but because it's what he can afford. And he still looks better then most of the people in the room. He has a way of talking to people. He can have a conversation with my grandmother, in the same tone, with the same humor, that he would if he was talking to one of his closest friends. My brother is one hep-cat.

So, is this what a blog is? Am I doing it right?

~Sunshine~