Just sayin. That is all.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
I Have Returned!
Hey everyone!
Gosh it has been FOREVER (Ok, so it's really been just over 2 weeks.) since I updated this blog! So much has happened during these two weeks. I've been SUPER busy with school. Finals are rapidly approaching and I'm uber worried about my SOS 207 and CI 102 grades.
April 17th was my 21st birthday! Yes, that's right, it's now perfectly legal for me to purchase alcoholic beverages! Which is fantastic! On my birthday I tried something called a Cherry Lifesaver. It is my new favorite thing EVER.
I finally got around to watching all of the Britney tour online. Once I was 100% sure I wasn't going to get to see it live I just had to watch it. My opinion? I LOVED it. It's my favorite of all her tours. I do not like that she doesn't interact with the audience a bit more, but besides that I don't have complaints. She looks as good as ever and seems to enjoy herself when on stage. (Well most of the time. Can we talk about the "smoking incident' in Vancouver?" Haha.)
Other Britney related stuff: Whats the next single gonna be? I'm super hardcore wanting it to be Unusual You. Also, her website just showcased this new mens Britney Spears Womanizer t-shirt and I want it SO bad. Too bad I'm a broke college student.
I've been keeping up with American Idol. I have decided that I'm in LOVE with Adam Lambert and want to adopt babies with him. This presents a problem because I also recently discovered Mika and I also love and want babies with him. Do you suppose they'd go for a like... love triangle type thing?
... Oh. I didn't think so either :(
Anyway, there's probably more that I could tell you, in fact I know there is. I haven't even got started about Gay Pride Week or Walk a Mile in Her Shoes. I'll save those exclusively for YouTube Vlogs.
Thanks for reading guys!
XoXo
Mikey
Gosh it has been FOREVER (Ok, so it's really been just over 2 weeks.) since I updated this blog! So much has happened during these two weeks. I've been SUPER busy with school. Finals are rapidly approaching and I'm uber worried about my SOS 207 and CI 102 grades.
April 17th was my 21st birthday! Yes, that's right, it's now perfectly legal for me to purchase alcoholic beverages! Which is fantastic! On my birthday I tried something called a Cherry Lifesaver. It is my new favorite thing EVER.
I finally got around to watching all of the Britney tour online. Once I was 100% sure I wasn't going to get to see it live I just had to watch it. My opinion? I LOVED it. It's my favorite of all her tours. I do not like that she doesn't interact with the audience a bit more, but besides that I don't have complaints. She looks as good as ever and seems to enjoy herself when on stage. (Well most of the time. Can we talk about the "smoking incident' in Vancouver?" Haha.)
Other Britney related stuff: Whats the next single gonna be? I'm super hardcore wanting it to be Unusual You. Also, her website just showcased this new mens Britney Spears Womanizer t-shirt and I want it SO bad. Too bad I'm a broke college student.
I've been keeping up with American Idol. I have decided that I'm in LOVE with Adam Lambert and want to adopt babies with him. This presents a problem because I also recently discovered Mika and I also love and want babies with him. Do you suppose they'd go for a like... love triangle type thing?
... Oh. I didn't think so either :(
Anyway, there's probably more that I could tell you, in fact I know there is. I haven't even got started about Gay Pride Week or Walk a Mile in Her Shoes. I'll save those exclusively for YouTube Vlogs.
Thanks for reading guys!
XoXo
Mikey
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Read This.
The following is a piece written by a man named David Borkenhagen for his school newspaper. He is a student at McGill University. I just finished reading this and I think he writes and expresses himself incredibly well, and I just thought I'd share this with you people. So here is the story:
“You guys look like faggots,” I heard someone say in the general direction of where I was standing with a friend. Not a standard greeting, to say the least.
This comment confused me. Surely it must be a joke – a bad joke. But I’m not in danger. After all, this is Montreal, a progressive city where I feel safe and confident that people aren’t attacked based on their sexual orientation.
I looked up to see who was trying to get my attention. Standing before us is a tall, sturdily-built man, wearing clothes the same way a pile of laundry would. Flanking him were three other men, a few years older than my friend and I, with smirks reminiscent of junior-high bullies.
It seemed it was not a joke, or at least not one my friend and I were allowed to laugh at. These four men were quite serious. They had identified us as gay, and they were not okay with that.
I felt uneasy, but confident nothing would happen. In addition to being in Montreal, we also happened to be on St. Laurent just above Prince-Arthur, at 3:10 a.m. on a Friday night – a time when there could not be more people around.
I opted to respond to the comment with an exaggerated roll of my eyes, not something antagonistic but still ambiguously defiant. Hopefully they’d ease off. Hopefully they’d leave us alone.
“Hey, man, don’t suck my dick, okay? I’m not gay,” one of the men said. Feeling genuinely offended that this guy would reduce my existence to oral sex – like, as if that’s all I do with my spare time – I responded, “No thanks, I don’t want it.” Which, ironically, was not what they wanted to hear.
I could feel the tension rising. The four men surrounded me. “How about I kick you in the shins?” they asked me.
How does one answer a threat like this? “Uh, no thanks?” “Maybe tomorrow?” I decided on a healthy “Fuck off.”
And with that came the first punch – straight to the nose. I barely had time to realize what was happening when a second strike hit the side of my temple. Several more punches followed, all while I kept shouting a steady pulse of “fuck off”s and “get the fuck away from me”s.
I could not believe what was happening. Not this. Not here. I knew striking back would make the situation much worse, as they outnumbered me four to one. So I put my faith in the citizens of this city. If I could not rely on the decency of these vagrants, at least I would expect a good Samaritan to intervene. Luckily, this was the case, and although she was not as burly as I would have liked, a young woman came to my defence and with persistance persuaded the assailants to leave me alone.
I was thankful this person came by, and I turned to her, if only to find comfort in a pair of sympathetic eyes. She looked at me, and in a pathetic act of consolation, motioned in the direction of the assailants and said, “Don’t worry, those guys are just faggots.”
Total shock. If I wasn’t upset already at the attack, the girl’s response floored me. Are you for real? My saviour was a fraud, just as hurtful as my attackers.
I have been fortunate enough to have witnessed more fights than have fought myself. In fact, the last person to punch me in the face was my best friend, in the grade nine, after we disagreed on the distribution of some candies. I can safely say, however, that getting punched in the face totally sucks. On top of this, getting punched in the face by people you don’t know, for reasons you do not understand, has to be one of the most infuriating experiences ever.
It took me a long time to compose myself. I was furious. I refused police intervention, medical attention, and even consolation from friends. I thought I was fine. I thought I could just shake it off. In hindsight, I wish I had realized that, yes, that’s blood coming out of your nose. Yes, that’s a piece of your tooth you just spat out. No, you are not okay.
I won’t go into the details of what happened afterward, but suffice it to say, I was able to find my way home with the invaluable help of caring friends.
Two weeks later, the event still affects me. I’m left with the aftershock, a buzzing, uncontrollable, psychological tremor. It’s as if someone has infiltrated my mind, cracked the code to my ego, and fiddled with all the knobs, wires, and switches. I have yet to feel the same comfort I once did walking down the street at night; my heart pounds uncontrollably and my neck is pulled and twisted by an invisible string, constantly scanning the street behind me for any possible danger. Sleep has become a luxury. I’ve spent many early morning hours replaying the event in my head, considering different outcomes, each time triggering a stress response.
It’s incredibly painful to know that some people carry around these views and act on them in despicable ways. I feel betrayed – betrayed by a city I once thought was progressive. One in which I thought I, and everyone else, was free to pursue whatever makes us happy as long as it does not infringe on the rights of others. Furthermore, it happened in a place I’ve been countless times. A place where I should not, by any means, feel threatened.
Since then, I’ve asked myself if I should start taking precautionary measures to avoid these types of altercations. Should I not wear tight pants? Should I not outwardly identify as a gay male? Should I avoid streets populated by belligerent assholes? Should I submit to the external pressures pushed on me by these hooligans? The answer to these questions has come surprisingly easily.
Fuck no.
Fuck those guys. Fuck their views on life. Fuck the way they express themselves. I do not have a problem. I am not at fault. I will continue to eat my pizza and wear the tightest pants I fucking want.
The story can be found in it's original location here:
http://www.mcgilldaily.com/article/19015-hyde-park-hate-crime-in
“You guys look like faggots,” I heard someone say in the general direction of where I was standing with a friend. Not a standard greeting, to say the least.
This comment confused me. Surely it must be a joke – a bad joke. But I’m not in danger. After all, this is Montreal, a progressive city where I feel safe and confident that people aren’t attacked based on their sexual orientation.
I looked up to see who was trying to get my attention. Standing before us is a tall, sturdily-built man, wearing clothes the same way a pile of laundry would. Flanking him were three other men, a few years older than my friend and I, with smirks reminiscent of junior-high bullies.
It seemed it was not a joke, or at least not one my friend and I were allowed to laugh at. These four men were quite serious. They had identified us as gay, and they were not okay with that.
I felt uneasy, but confident nothing would happen. In addition to being in Montreal, we also happened to be on St. Laurent just above Prince-Arthur, at 3:10 a.m. on a Friday night – a time when there could not be more people around.
I opted to respond to the comment with an exaggerated roll of my eyes, not something antagonistic but still ambiguously defiant. Hopefully they’d ease off. Hopefully they’d leave us alone.
“Hey, man, don’t suck my dick, okay? I’m not gay,” one of the men said. Feeling genuinely offended that this guy would reduce my existence to oral sex – like, as if that’s all I do with my spare time – I responded, “No thanks, I don’t want it.” Which, ironically, was not what they wanted to hear.
I could feel the tension rising. The four men surrounded me. “How about I kick you in the shins?” they asked me.
How does one answer a threat like this? “Uh, no thanks?” “Maybe tomorrow?” I decided on a healthy “Fuck off.”
And with that came the first punch – straight to the nose. I barely had time to realize what was happening when a second strike hit the side of my temple. Several more punches followed, all while I kept shouting a steady pulse of “fuck off”s and “get the fuck away from me”s.
I could not believe what was happening. Not this. Not here. I knew striking back would make the situation much worse, as they outnumbered me four to one. So I put my faith in the citizens of this city. If I could not rely on the decency of these vagrants, at least I would expect a good Samaritan to intervene. Luckily, this was the case, and although she was not as burly as I would have liked, a young woman came to my defence and with persistance persuaded the assailants to leave me alone.
I was thankful this person came by, and I turned to her, if only to find comfort in a pair of sympathetic eyes. She looked at me, and in a pathetic act of consolation, motioned in the direction of the assailants and said, “Don’t worry, those guys are just faggots.”
Total shock. If I wasn’t upset already at the attack, the girl’s response floored me. Are you for real? My saviour was a fraud, just as hurtful as my attackers.
I have been fortunate enough to have witnessed more fights than have fought myself. In fact, the last person to punch me in the face was my best friend, in the grade nine, after we disagreed on the distribution of some candies. I can safely say, however, that getting punched in the face totally sucks. On top of this, getting punched in the face by people you don’t know, for reasons you do not understand, has to be one of the most infuriating experiences ever.
It took me a long time to compose myself. I was furious. I refused police intervention, medical attention, and even consolation from friends. I thought I was fine. I thought I could just shake it off. In hindsight, I wish I had realized that, yes, that’s blood coming out of your nose. Yes, that’s a piece of your tooth you just spat out. No, you are not okay.
I won’t go into the details of what happened afterward, but suffice it to say, I was able to find my way home with the invaluable help of caring friends.
Two weeks later, the event still affects me. I’m left with the aftershock, a buzzing, uncontrollable, psychological tremor. It’s as if someone has infiltrated my mind, cracked the code to my ego, and fiddled with all the knobs, wires, and switches. I have yet to feel the same comfort I once did walking down the street at night; my heart pounds uncontrollably and my neck is pulled and twisted by an invisible string, constantly scanning the street behind me for any possible danger. Sleep has become a luxury. I’ve spent many early morning hours replaying the event in my head, considering different outcomes, each time triggering a stress response.
It’s incredibly painful to know that some people carry around these views and act on them in despicable ways. I feel betrayed – betrayed by a city I once thought was progressive. One in which I thought I, and everyone else, was free to pursue whatever makes us happy as long as it does not infringe on the rights of others. Furthermore, it happened in a place I’ve been countless times. A place where I should not, by any means, feel threatened.
Since then, I’ve asked myself if I should start taking precautionary measures to avoid these types of altercations. Should I not wear tight pants? Should I not outwardly identify as a gay male? Should I avoid streets populated by belligerent assholes? Should I submit to the external pressures pushed on me by these hooligans? The answer to these questions has come surprisingly easily.
Fuck no.
Fuck those guys. Fuck their views on life. Fuck the way they express themselves. I do not have a problem. I am not at fault. I will continue to eat my pizza and wear the tightest pants I fucking want.
The story can be found in it's original location here:
http://www.mcgilldaily.com/article/19015-hyde-park-hate-crime-in
Gay Marriage
Today has been a great day when it comes to taking steps towards equal rights for everyone! Vermont has officially legalized same sex marriage and Washington D.C. has voted to recognize gay marriages performed out of state! I will blog further about this after class!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Giga Pet and Furby
Every year at my Elementary School we would get a visit from Santa around Christmas time. He would bring gifts for all the students, our parents would also come and it would just be a really fun day. When I was in the third grade Santa brought along Giga Pets and Basketballs for the students. All of the girls were getting Giga Pets and all of the boys were getting basketballs. Lets just start by talking about how unfair that was. Girls were getting this very cool electronic pet, boys were getting this stupid inflatable piece of rubber. Anyway, It was my turn to see Santa. I walked my little third grade self up there and was BEYOND excited when Santa handed me a Giga Pet instead of a basketball!
My excitement lasted all of four seconds. Santa took the Giga Pet back and said "He doesn't want this, get him a ball" to his stupid Elf. The Elf then traded me the ball for the pet. I was pissed. I hated Santa and I hoped he died.
My disappointment followed me back to our classroom. When we got back to the room I noticed that this other girl, Kendra, was sitting at her desk frowning at her Giga Pet. So I went over and just casually asked her what was up. She told me that she didn't like the Giga Pet and that she wanted the basketball. We proceeded to trade toys. It was one of the most awesome things anyone has EVER done for me. The Giga Pet that I got was the cat (Compu Kitty). That electronic cat brought me hours and hours of enjoyment. I gave it baths and cleaned up its poop, and I fed it. It was so fun! My mom even got addicted to it and would 'baby sit' it for me sometimes.
I had that thing for the longest time. I'm not sure what happened to it, but it is still one of my all time favorite toys.
My second favorite toy as a kid was the Furby!
I don't remember how old I was when I got my first Furby. I do remember that I got it the same year that I got my gameboy color. (Which is another story all together.)
I ended up getting two furbys. My mom bought me the one thats pictured above, and I liked it so much she got me a second one for my birthday. (I couldn't find a picture of it, but It was white with a few brighter colors included. I can't really explain it.) I had so much fun with them, teaching them to talk. I'd put them by my bed at night time and wouldn't let myself fall asleep until they did. (Their snore was so cute!)
Anyway, these were two of my favorite toys and I have a lot of good memories when I think about them!
Kathy Griffin
I don't know if any of you know this, but I LOVE Kathy Griffin. (I even love her when she's making fun of Britney, which, for me, is saying something.) She recently spoke at about Prop 8 and Gay Marriage and I'm not going to share the video with you:
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