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Hi there, 

So after reading about ur annoying date I was wondering ur views on age gaps between people, does age really effect relationship possibilities? (ex: 18 guy with a older man age range 26-30)

And what really makes a guy attractive? how are you so god damn irresistible?..lol 🙂

My view on age gaps?

They’re annoying.

You have more (or less) life experience than the other person.  That creates a perspective discrepancy.  The younger person feels patronized and the older person feels like they’re playing a waiting game.  It’s awful.

Even so, isn’t it great to have a younger/older BF?  Aren’t there perks?  Shouldn’t you give it a shot?  Why not?  Go for it.  Also, beware.

What really makes a guy attractive?  Confidence in his vulnerability.  A guy who knows his fears and is still confident about life.    That’s the hottest thing.  Also a good butt.

Why am I so irresistible?  I’m not.  Plenty of people turn me down.  I can thank my parents for good genes, but I’m a walking nightmare of a person.  So many precious eccentricities.  Ugh.

Still, thanks for saying such nice things.  It was nice to hear.

Jerk.

Him:  What are you making?

Me:  Mango Cherry Pies.

Him:  No kidding.

Me:  That’s right.  They’re going to be yummy.  And YOU’RE going to get some.

Him:  Yay.  I don’t like pastries, though.

Me:  Just pretend you’re excited?

Him:  Im so excited.

Me:  Wasn’t that guy a jerk?  At the bar?

Him: What was he saying?  Sometimes I just smile at people and tune out. 

Me:  He was making stupid ching-chong jokes.

Him:  Oh, no!  What was he saying?

Me:  He said he’d see you soon because he was going to Ruby Foo’s tomorrow for lunch.  I should have said that you’d probably see him twice, since it looks like he eats lunch twice every day.

Him:  That’s funny. 

Me:  I try not to make fat jokes.  They strike me as dated, somehow.

Him:  Wait, he’s assuming I work at Ruby Foo’s, because I’m Asian?  That’s insulting.

Me:  He thinks it was funny.

Him:  Doesn’t sound funny to me.

Me:  Me either.  He’s pretty funny, when he’s not hammered.  I have to see him all the time. He’s a nice guy, but he has these…  moments…   He thinks he’s being funny.  People are ass wipes when they’re drunk.

Him:  That’s what he was doing?  He was making Asian jokes? 

Me:  Yeah.  He said that I was only hanging out with you to make my penis look bigger.

Him:  Oh no!  Is that true?

Me:  Only partially.  I like you a lot too.

Him:  Moron. 

Me:  NO IT’S NOT TRUE.  You’re super good looking, kid.  That guy’s a jealous bozo.  Your penis is perfect.

(pause)

How much of the conversation did you miss?  Wow you were really zoned out.  Did you catch what happened at the end, when I grabbed your shoulder?

Him:  Oh!  When you said ‘Go ahead – make three more obnoxious jokes, but make them good,’ or whatever?

Me:  ‘Make them the best jokes ever!  Really enjoy yourself!’  Yeah.  I wanted to see him squirm.  There’s a part of him that knows that he’s being ugly, when he does that.  He was wasted.  I also wanted him to see that he hadn’t phased me in the least.

Him:  Fuck him.  I would have slapped him.

Me:  Well I’m glad you didn’t hear it, then.  We run in the same circles.  I have to deal with him.  He was wasted.  The very last thing he did was drop a shot all over the ground.  He has his moments.  He can be nice.  Why am I defending him?

Him: Yeah.  I don’t usually let people get to me, but there was this guy who said my friend had a cheap bag tonight.  I wouldn’t let him off the hook for it. OH NO. 

Me:  What

Him:  Then there was that homeless man.

Me:  I know.  Right afterward.  That was bad timing.

Him:  I’m just realizing.  He meant me, too.  He gave you all those compliments and then said you needed to upgrade the man though. 

Me:  I found that really strange.

Him: That’s why you told him to can it and knock it off.  It’s just dawning on me.  He meant me.

Me:  Yeah.  Why did you think I was yelling at a homeless man? Oh man.  You really were in and out of the evening huh?

Him:  I guess so. 

Me:  Oh.  You’re wasted, aren’t you?  You drank a lot before you came to meet me at the bar.

Him:  I had my share of drinks. 

Me:  You’re clobbered.

Him:  I’m not.

Me:  Doesn’t matter.  You’re beautiful and sweet.  You have self respect and you’re kind to other people.  Let’s just make these pies. Mango and cherry have a way of baking together to taste like Peach.

Him: Thanks.  You’re okay. 

Me:  Thanks.  So are you.

(pause)

Also.  You’re wasted.

(pause,  then a big smile.)

Jerk.

Him:  Well.  It’s good to finally meet you.

Me:  Yeah, we’ve been talking online for what?  Few months?

Him:  Yeah.  Few months. 

Me:  I tend to do that.

Him:  Really?  That seems like a lifetime for me.

Me:  Oh, no.  I tend to do that a lot.  I talk to people for a long while before meeting up.

Him:  Why??

Me:  Because it’s the Internet and people are weirdos and I’m busy and some people are drug addicts.  If you talk to people for an extended while, you can draw a bead on what they’re like as a person.  They eventually let their flaws slip, and you can decide whether you want to meet them for real.  Whether you can accept and love their flaws…

Him:  What are my flaws?

Me:  I don’t want to do this.

Him:  No really!  I wanna know how I come off on Grindr.

Me:  Uh…  You’re pushier and more demanding that I’d like you to be.

(pause)

Him:  What does that mean?

Me:  It means you like to txt me at 2:30 am demanding pie and sex.

Him:  I think that’s funny.

(pause, he lifts my shirt up to check to see what my stomach looks like)

Me:  Classy move.

Him:  OMG let’s get some shots!  Sugarland is lame.

Me:  No.

Him: Why not??

Me: Because I’ve already been to college.  I don’t want to get wasted.  I have to teach tomorrow.

Him:  I’m on my fourth drink.  Do you like your students?

Me:  Very much, yes.  They’re bright and buoyant.

Him:  What??

Me:  Light hearted.  Good spirited.  I feel lifted up.

Him:  Well do a shot with me and they won’t know if you’re hungover tomorrow.

Me:  No.  Thanks.

Him:  You suck.  You’re no fun.

Me:  I know that to be true.  You’re right.

Him:  Let’s smoke a cigarette. 

Me:  I don’t smoke.

Him:  What were you doing outside earlier?

Me:  I have to get away from the music and cool off sometimes.  I’ll come with you to smoke.

(we push through the crowd and out to the back of Sugarland)

Him:  You look good for 40.

Me:  Oh my God thank you!!!  You’re sweet.  I’m not 40.  Not even close.

Him:  Well you look good.

Me: Thanks.  You’re saying all the right things.

Him: How come you never brought me a pie?

Me: Are you kidding?

Him:  No.  Why didn’t you bring me one?

Me: Um.  Because??

Him:  Because why?

Me:  Seriously?  You’re serious?

Him:  Yeah.  I want you to come over with pie.  Are you going to make fun of that?

Me:  I think I am.

Him:  Why?

Me:  Because.  You text me at 2:30 am, asking for pie, and making requests.  We’ve never met before, and you want Strawberry pie at 2:30 am.  But you’re way too lazy to come get it.  You want it delivered.

Him:  You live in Brooklyn.  I can’t go to Brooklyn, I live in Manhattan.

(pause)

Me:  Do you ever listen to yourself when you talk?

Him:  What do you mean?

Me:  Nothing. Okay.  So you want me to make you Strawberry Pie and deliver it to you in Manhattan at 2:30 am, randomly, whenever the whim strikes you to txt me.

Him: You make it sound selfish. 

Me: Don’t I?  (pause)  Do you realize, even, that it takes 4 hours to make a pie?

Him:  No.  You make it look easy on the site.

Me:  Right.  Well, nobody wants to attend a site about how grueling it is to make a pie and why you shouldn’t do it.

Him:  Why are you so old?  Do you want to be 40?

Me:  Yes.  Very much.  I very much want to be 40.  And 50.  And 60.  Why do you keep calling me 40 when you know I’m younger than that?

Him:  Because you won’t make out with me.

Me:  Ah.  So it’s punishment?

(lifts my shirt again to look at my stomach)

Him:  Let’s have a shot.

Me: No.

Him:  You’re no fun.

Me:  I’m watching the guy who asked me on a date here take my friend home.

Him:  Oh.  You’re on a date?

Me:  Yeah, when you txted me ‘are you at Sugarland,’ you didn’t specify if I was alone.

Him:  Well you said you were here.

Me:  Yes, and here I am.

Him: How old are you?

(lifts my shirt)

Me: You must be kidding, right? You’re joking.

Him:  No.  Oh no.  Don’t be sad.

(pause)

Me:  My date just left with my wing man.  They’re going to go home together.

Him:  That seems unfair.

Me:  Why?  Because I like them both and they both like each other more than they like me?  Maybe it’s slightly unfair, but as my mother would say, you can’t interfere with chemistry.  People who like each other, like each other.  But yes.  It sucks.  For me.  For them it’s great.

(pause)

Him:  Oh.  Well…  are we gonna go to have some private time?

(a long pause.  i think about how to phrase this:)

Me: We’re not…  No offense.  You’re cute.  But I don’t think there’s chemistry.

Him:  But, you’re so much older than me.

Me: I know.

Him:  You shouldn’t be turning me down.

Me:  I know.

Him:  How can this be?

Me:  I guess somewhere inside me…  I guess some part of me…  I must be 40.

(long pause)

Jerk.

Happy Sunday.

It’s not exactly a ‘blooper’ reel.  I just had all this footage lying around that I pieced into a video.

It’s a weird.  I put a bunch of strange stuff together.  There’s popular comic, Ben Lerman, a homeless incontinent man, and me noodling around on a PIEFOLK shoot.

It was a weird day, today.  I posted a weird video.

Sue me.

Or don’t.

I don’t care.  Jerks.

Here’s some photos that were too racy, or weird, or extraneous to make it into the entries they were intended for.  Plus, here’s a conversation I had yesterday about our fair Lady Gaga.

What?

The post is called Odds and Ends.  Get off my back.

I’m kidding. Stay there.

Him:  Typical you.

Me:  What?

Him:  You cozied up to that man at the bank.

(short pause)

Me:  I sure did, didn’t I?  I didn’t even need to.  I was just showing off.

Him:  Why did you do that?

Me:  Practice?

Him:  That sounds about right.

(Pause.  We look at each other.  He looks the same as ever.  He’s different though.)

Him:  What else is new?

Me:  I have a house guest.  I have an amazing house guest.

Him:  Oh yeah?

Me:  That’s right. A very talented young man.  His boyfriend, as it turns out, is very unkind, and likes to act abusive.

Him:  Oh!  So you’ve taken on a ward.

Me:  Sarcasm will get you everywhere.  No, it’s not a ward.  He’s just sad and sweet…  he needed to stay with me for a few weeks.  He’s young.

Him:  Of course he is.

Me:  Stop.  He plays Gaga a lot.  Around the house.

Him:  Does he?

Me:  Don’t say it in that tone of voice.  I mean.  Okay…  Say it in that tone of voice.   But I’ve been thinking about her, lately.

Him:  I don’t believe that at all.

Me:  I have.  Listen – I don’t consume her product, but I kind of like her message, or her politics or whatever…

Him:  Well we all consume her product.  It’s pop culture, and she’s at the top of pop culture right now.

Me:  Fair enough.  But I wouldn’t seek her out if i wasn’t inundated with her right now.  Not as an artist.  But as a person – maybe I would.

Him:  I’m not sure I can forgive her for…  that… travesty. 

Me: Born This Way?

Him:  Yes.  I’m not sure I can forgive… that.

Me: Oh stop it.  Ultimately that song is good for the world.

Him: Disagree.

Me:  Stop.

Him:  Disagree!  I think the message of that song….  UGH!!!  That song!  They hyped that song.   That song could have been so good. 

Me: It’s a good song!  I mean.  It’s not.  But it’s good!  It serves a good purpose.

Him:  The message is thin.  It could have been so intelligently done.

Me:  No.  It couldn’t have.

Him:  What do you mean?

Me:  That song’s not for you.  It’s not for intelligent Brooklyn ultra-liberals who’ve already come to terms with their gayness and learned to love themselves.  It’s not going to reference the counter culture or some esoteric intellectual mode of thought.  It’s for a gay boy in Columbus, OH who just got kicked out of his Mom’s house for being Gay and now works at a thrift store.  That’s who the song is for.  So he doesn’t kill himself.  You’re welcome.

Him:  I’m welcome?

Me:  Yes.  You’re welcome.  She kept a kid from killing himself.  Or she tried to, and she showed other people it might be a good idea to try to stop gay kids from killing themselves.  So, you’re welcome.  I think she’s doing good for the world.

Him: It’s just that song.

Me:  You’re right. It’s not great. But it is ‘GREAT.’

Him:  Disagree.

Me:  Ugh.  What about the speech she gave at the March on Washington?  What about how every time she goes on late night television she mentions Marriage Equality?

Him:  It’s the song.  I like her, but that song.

(long pause)

Me:  It’s woefully bad.   But I love her.  She’s good.

(long pause)

Jerk.

Q:  What’s sexier than an AIDS Walk?

A: A wet AIDS Walk.  A wet, soupy AIDS Walk.

Even so.  Last week I whined and pleaded and bothered and shamed people into sponsoring me.  It worked. My family and friends and some nice people from the internet helped raise 950 dollars for AIDS patient services.

I caterwauled about it on Facebook all week.  It paid off.

It was inspiring.  45,000 people walked, raising 6.2 million dollars.

That’s a staggering number.  That’s amazing.  Good job, 45,000 people.

I am way ahead of you.   You were about to ask whether or not the guy from the EZ PAWN subway ads was there.   Yes.  Yes he was.  A-List celebrities like him always turn out for charity events.

It’s cool to know that he’s a philanthropist, on top of providing the extremely useful service of making it EZ to PAWN things.

I couldn’t help but notice something:  an abnormally large percentage of the AIDS Walkers were ethnic minorities.  This was surprising to me.

I had this idea that there was going to be a bunch of middle class white people there, basking in the East coast liberal glow of their own kindness and charity.  I expected to hear people saying things like, “Oh, my husband and I just took the train in from Connecticut – our daughter is a lesbian doula in Williamsburg and we wanted to support her.”

That was not the case.  There were plenty of white people there, but by and large, I saw a disproportionally large amount of ethnic minorities.  Maybe it was just the groups I was walking with – or maybe whitey needs to step it up next year?

I will say this, though.  I could do without hearing things like, “Damn.  Why they gotta be so many faggots up here?”

Don’t be naive.  It’s the AIDS Walk.  Aside from pushing a secret, evil agenda, faggots love nothing more than AIDS.  Were you asleep in the late 80’s when all the faggots were trying out the stylish new disease everyone was talking about?  Were you not paying attention when those faggots were responsible for the fashion revival of the hospital gown?  Yes…  faggots love AIDS.  AIDS and Lady Gaga.

Were you raised as a mole person under the subway tunnels of New York city? is that why you don’t know what a bozo you look like, using the word ‘faggot’ at the AIDS Walk?

I mean.  Thanks for helping out with the cause and all, but don’t be such a bigot.  Just try.  Just for one day.  Not to be an uneducated fool.  I heard the word faggot at least five times.  And only two of those times were ironic, where one homosexual was saying to another:  ‘Hey faggot.’

Knock it off, otherwise charitable, awesome people.  You look foolish.

All in all the experience was uplifting, though.  Most people were smiling and happy.  There was a charge in the air.

Congrats to everyone that participated – walkers and sponsors.  You guys are awesome.  Now I’m going to get back to what I’m good at – annoying people with my gayness.  And baking.  And finding complicated boys to infuriate me.

I’ve got some good pies planned for the next few weeks.

A big, humble, thanks to everyone who sponsored me.

To everyone else….

Thanks for gawking.

Jerks.