Tarhearted.

GAYS THAT DON'T SEEM GAY.

I've recently been watching a lot of ABC's sitcom, Happy Endings. It's a single camera comedy set in Chicago revolving around a break up within a tight group of friends. It's simple and cute. One of the friends, the adorable ne'er-do-well Max, is gay.

I had a crush on Max, so I googled him and discovered that lots of TV writers crush on him too. They praise his schlubbiness, his pudge, his bad behavior and his general "un gayness." People, it turns out, like a gay character who doesn't seem "gay." Presumably because he's pudgy and likes sports and wears cargo pants. What's more, tv writers appreciate that Max's homosexuality is a non-issue amongst the other characters, straights all.

I've heard all this before, of course. Even from gay people. "I just wish there could be a gay character where nobody makes an issue of it." On the gay person's part I think it's a desire for homosexuality to be de stigmatized. A sort of, "Imagine if we didn't have to deal with this shit." But on the part of television networks I feel wary. I'm afraid a "straight acting" gay guy translates to "this will make us look progressive even though this character will never have sex or fall in love or deal with discrimination." Advance press says Max is getting a boyfriend in Season 2, so I'm happy to report that gay tokenism doesn't seem to be the case here.

Still, a couple of things:

1. I notice more and more that gays and straights alike have a distaste for sissy for effeminate gay men. I see it in the comments sections for gay blogs. I understand the desire more varied depictions of gay men, but it's obvious when you read how much bile these dudes pour on femmes that they have mucho internalized homophobia. They're the same queens that hate drag and want to drop the T from LGBT so we seem more "normal."

And mainstream media, too, is quick to praise gay characters on TV that aren't effeminate. Characters like Max or the ROTC son from United States of Tara. "This is no Curt from Glee," they say, or, "This is no Jack MacFarland." I love my Max and all, but I have to ask: What the fuck is wrong with Curt? Or Jack?*

In both cases there's an implied annoyance with effeminate men. I keep thinking of the Backstage critic who wrote of my performance in Lonesome Winter by saying something like, "Joshua Conkel is just not funny, especially when he acts like a bitchy fashion designer." Fashion designer is a euphameism if you're too slow to keep up.

2. And what the fuck is wrong with me? Oh god, the traits critics praise in max are the same traits I found attractive. I hate the term "straight acting" but... am I attracted to straight acting guys? Or are the definitions for "straight acting" or "gay acting" totally arbitrary and made up? I myself don't fall into either category. I'm pretty effeminate acting, but I'm covered in tattoos and I prefer The Misfits to Lady Gaga. That ain't very Chelsea. But I'm totally attracted to rockabilly dudes or guys who seem like they might be criminals, and I suppose that makes me "into straight acting guys." Blech! That was so gross to type. Because, why one or the other? Seriously, this question is gnawing at me. Television, please help me.**

3. I'm not in the camp who thinks it's good to have gay characters where their sexuality is "a non-issue" because- nine times out of ten- it's a non-issue because it's never discussed or dealt with in any way whatsoever. I love LGBT characters on television, effeminate or not, but not if they're just there to help some lady get dressed. Likewise if they're only character trait is to be the opposite of whatever "gay acting" is. They have to be fully formed, in and out of love, sexual, struggling, etc. Just like all the other characters. All of my closest friends are straight and you know what? i would never allow them to turn my homosexuality into a non-issue. Same goes with my family and coworkers and the man who runs the bodega on my corner. It's always there and on the table (not physically), whether people like it or not.

*I had problems with Will & Grace, but not because Jack was effeminate.

**Ugh. Straight men are so lucky they don't have to think about this shit all the time.

QUEEN ON THE STREETS, MAN IN THE SHEETS.

I spent my twenty-first  birthday with one of my besties, Mallery Avidon (who's now a super famous playwright.) Or, I guess, the day before my 21st birthday. I was a sophomore at Cornish College of the Arts and most of my friends weren't locals like Mallery and me and were out of town for the holidays. San Francisco or wherever. Some in Los Angeles or Portland. Mallery and I smoked some pot (I assume) and saw Not Another Teen Movie at Westlake Center. We went to a bar in Pioneer Square (I think) and I had Goldschlager for the first time. ("You mean it has real gold flakes in it?") Mallery was house sitting for some rich people in Queen Anne who had a hot tub, so we took a cab there- but it was really just a big bath tub. We got in anyway.

What I remember most though is that I got to go to a gay bar for the first time that night. At midnight- my actual birthday. It was Neighbors in Seattle, and it was Rock Lobster- their new wave, 80's-only night. This was before the aughts had really started, music was in a lull (not starting for another year or two with Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Strokes, White Stripes etc.) so I was really into new wave. Because what else was there? All my older friends at school had been talking about Rock Lobster forever and I was dying to go. The bouncer made me wait until exactly midnight.

I remember checking my bag thinking, "This. This is the big city life. This is glamor." Later I visited Neighbors after living in New York for a few years and I was struck by how much it was like a barn dance it was. I guess once you've done blow in the backroom of The Cock, nothing ever seems quite so "urban" again. Anyway, Mallery quickly ditched me and so I skulked around with a rum and coke (do all 21-year-olds drink rum and cokes?) waiting for I don't know what to happen.

I ended up dancing with a cute but nerdy guy in his thirties. He eventually asked if I wanted to take off and I thought, "This is it! I'm actually gonna have a one night stand... like an adult!" It turned out he was a Canadian businessman of some sort and we had to take a cab all the way to his hotel in Bellevue. We had to tip toe to his room too because he had coworkers in the adjoining rooms on either side.

Once we were inside his room he was all business. He whipped off his clothes and was all, "Are you clean?"

I thought, "I'm only 21. Of course I am. Just what kind of girl do you take me for?" But I just said yeah. I don't remember the sex or if we actually had it. It could have just been naked groping and making out. We were very, very drunk. Or I was, anyway. I do remember him asking me if I worked out and telling him that, no, I didn't.

"You better start or you'll lose this body when you're 30."

The next morning- December 21st, 2001- he put me in a cab back to the city, but not before giving me his business card. His name was Rob Wood. I don't know how I didn't catch that. On the back of the card he'd written, "Happy birthday! USA is #1!" I think I still have it somewhere.

In the cab on the way back to the city I reached into my pocket to get my chapstick and discovered forty dollars. Rob Wood slipped forty dollars into my jeans. At twenty-one, I was already a cheap old whore. I put some sunglasses on, drank a bottle of water to stave off my hangover and thought to myself, " Fuck, dude. I am an adult."

That was ten years ago today. Fuck, dude.

 

REB BROWN, HUNK.

Here is a series of photos of Reb Brown, certified hunk, fire of my loins, the 1970's Captain America and star of such great films as Space Mutiny and Yor, The Hunter from the Future.

 

Here are some things we could do on our dream date (a partial list.)

• Go see What's Your Number?
• Build a Bear
• Paintball
• Take a trapeze class
• Just hold hands
• Dream Phone

 

• Get crunk, smoke cigarettes and just fool around
• Dungeons and Dragons (I'll be an Elven sorceress!)
• Get a hot dog
• Wiccan ritual
• Occupy Wall Street
• Get married
• Rob a licquor store

Also, this:

 

 

BUYING LOCALLY WITH FARM FRESH GIRL.

This maker and star of this short film was my best friend in college. She was my first muse and I wrote all of my earliest plays for her. We are kindred spirits. Nasty, messed up kindred spirits. God, I wish we lived in the same city.

NSFW. Fuck, this ain't even safe for LIFE.

Tarhearted proudly presents, Farm Fresh Girl.

 

Check out the rest of the site, CLIIT, which spoofs third wave femism and lazy progressives in amazing ways.

CLIIT.

TATTOOS I WANT.

 

MARKETING FAIL.

Wow.

I can't with this.

 

TURKEY JESUS.

Just in time for Thanksgiving, via The Friendly Atheist. I'll give thanks when my country shrugs off its dependance on that old sky beard, Jeebus. Happy holidays, nobody.

 

HELLO, MOM.

WENDY, WENDY, CAROL.

The Fiance and I stumbled across an episode of The Wendy Williams show last night and, I have to tell you, I'm so glad we did. It must've been a fag special because her guests were Kathy Griffin and... wait for it... CAROL CHANNING!!!

It. Was. Heaven.

First of all, I'd never watched this show before. The first part is just Wendy talking to her audience and it seems unscripted. Do you have a friend that talks too much and is really, really vain and not that interesting but you like them anyway? That's kind of how Williams is. Also, I loved her even more once Carol came out and she was moved to tears.

I would be moved to tears too, Wendy.

Let's talk about Carol's outfit. She was wearing a red leather jacket a la Michael Jackson in the "Beat It" video. Her hair was up in a pony tail-ish thing, like Pebbles from the Flintstones.

Wait, I found a picture:

Amazing, right? And then, Carol brought it home, saying, "Doesn't it look like an atom bomb going off?" Ha ha ha ha ha! Then Carol and Wendy spent the ENTIRE FIRST SEGMENT talking about Wendy's make-up artist. That queen, whoever he is,  must have been backstage just glowing.

Then (oh god, I can hardly type this) they have a discussion about race. Carol shares a story about her parents worrying that she might have a black baby. Carol then says that would have been fine since, "She could've been an Alvin Ailey dancer." Then, THEN, Wendy Williams names Carol Channing an honorary black person. What the WHAT?

I ate this show up like candy. I'll tell you one thing, Carol Channing and Wendy Williams will both be in my heaven. 

P.S. It's really hard for me to not call Wendy Williams Wendy O. Williams, who was the lead singer of The Plasmatics and star of the seminal film, Reform School Girls. I kind of think that would make a better show.

TATTOOS.

I'm getting this picture of my mom tattooed on my arm.

It's going inside a heart and will match the aesthetic of my sailor tattoo. My friend Jen (of Venture Bros. fame) is going to draw it. Yay! I'm so excited.