Friday, September 21, 2007

Monday, February 19, 2007


Sunday, February 11, 2007

On the move.

Okay, I've moved this blog to Wordpress. Check it out:

Footprints On The Ceiling

Tuesday, February 6, 2007

C'mon Ted, Just Admit It.

Did you see where Pastor Ted Haggard, he of the male-prostitute meth scandal in Colorado Springs last November, has been declared "completely heterosexual" and plans to pursue a masters in psychology using on-line courses?


Here's how I see this going down. Pastor Ted is studying late one night, cramming for an on-line exam. Mrs. Pastor Ted has gone to sleep. Pastor Ted realizes that his on-line psychology course includes a chapter on penis envy. I mean, what psychology course doesn't, right? Pastor Ted feels a strange sensation in his, uh, congregation, as it were. So, for some guidance, he points his browser over to, which, by now, has been taken over by gay porn (It's freaking inevitable). Pastor Ted reverts to his old ways, blahblahblah.

Can it end any other way? I mean, c'mon, Pastor Ted, you're not being true to yourself. If you like men, why deny it? You'll live a happier life if you're true to yourself. There's a line from an old song that goes, "You better find out, what makes your heart sing." And men make your heart sing, Pastor Ted. That much is obvious. As heavy as your denial is, it can't mask the fact that men make your heart sing. And there's nothing wrong with that. As much as the people who used to listen to you religiously (pun intended) probably don't think that, most of us out here in Real World America believe very much in following your heart, regardless of whether you like men or women. It really doesn't matter. What matters is that you're true to yourself.

And "completely heterosexual?" Really? Do people really believe that stereotype? So, what, Pastor Ted, are you going to run out and get some NASCAR gear now? And a rifle? And a Chevy truck? And go kill Bambi? Do you honestly believe that any of us with a brain - or a pea of a brain, even - are going to sit here and go, "Whew. He's completely heterosexual. Good thing, too. Wouldn't want him to have an open mind or anything." We're all part homosexual, Pastor Ted, somewhere deep down in our hearts. All of us. Some of us are just unable to admit it. I myself would do Cillian Murphy if he showed up at my door and my wife and kids were out of town. Okay, so I'm just making that up. I'd do him even if my wife and kids were in town. But staying at a motel.

Don't be afraid, Pastor Ted. Don't be afraid to be who you really are. Sure, you'll lose a few friends who think that idea that boys kissing boys or girls kissing girls is "icky," but those aren't really your friends, anyway. Friends don't sit in judgment of you based on where your lips or your vagina or, God forbid (pun intended), your penis spend their time. And as for your Lord? I bet when you get to Heaven He's (I use the masculine because I know you Christians believe in that sort of thing) going to say, "Pastor Ted, were you true to yourself?"

Well, were you?

Monday, February 5, 2007

Where A Mighty Snowbank Once Lived, A River Now Rages

Well, it has finally stopped snowing in Denver. After seven straight weeks of snow and freezing cold temperatures. And now it's nice outside and everything is melting.

I wonder if we're going to miss the snow, now that it's going to be gone. I mean, I've never heard so many people say, "I can't wait for spring" this early in a year. But don't you think the snow is sort of like an old friend who came to visit and never left and now, 2 months later, he's packing up his toothbrush and his old roll out foam sleeping mattress and leaving? Which means, if you follow my infallible logic, that we're going to miss him. Yes, even though he made our lives a living hell for 6 or 7 weeks and he can't cook and you caught him watching your pay-per-view porn several times (on YOUR credit card!), we're all going to miss him. One day, and it'll probably be sometime in May, because that rhymes nicely, Denverites the world over are going to put down their margaritas, stop basking in the sun, turn, and look at each other and say, "Damn. It's too nice. I wish it were snowing again. Remember how our cars bottomed out on the ice in the alley and then got stuck in front of Bob's house on a daily basis? And remember how that same creepy guy kept coming by and asking you for $15 to shovel your walk on a daily basis? And remember how the stores didn't have any groceries because the delivery trucks couldn't get through all the storms and so we ate Top Ramen for 7 weeks in a row? I miss those times."

Yeah, we're going to miss the snow. Not.