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

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