JamesSavik

Living legends don't get older... just more distinguished

Meeting Green was like meeting an alien from another planet. Green was brought up in a family that he never doubted would love him if he was gay. He went to a school where it was never an issue. He had friends that didn't think it mattered. To me coming from my bunker deep in the heart of the bible belt, that made quite an impression. It made me wonder what my life would have been like if I had more acceptance and less punishment. It made me wonder what I would have done or been if I didn't think that I had to accept my 3rd and 4th choices. It made me wonder who I would have become if I hadn't had to waste so much energy over shame, guilt and confusion. While meeting and get to knowing Green made me question myself, I never begrudged him that he was growing up in a different time. You see- I was a begonia growing in a desert. The dry, sunny conditions stunted my growth. Green was a begonia in a rain forest: he thrived and grew in ways that I could only imagine. I miss chatting with him. He was challenging, bright, quick witted and gentle natured. It saddens me that he was taken from us all too soon by something as random as a car accident. Those who do remember, smile because you have to remember his wit. Those who never had the pleasure... wear your seat belts.

If you liked that one, read the Dragon and the Bear by Clancy and maybe even my own Twilight.

If you really want to get retarded...

Excellent choice.

I find it difficult to be just friends with gay people. My sexual magnetism always seems to get in the way.

Your hot but I ...just...can't...understand Why yes. I do.

I hate it when drunk X-what-evers call looking for sex at odd hours of the morning. At least they could call when I at least had a chance of hooking up. Here's a song about the issue of late at night they knock on your door, drunk again and looking to score: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kIZeVoRBuU

Roger Moore because he's just so damned smooth. Anders & Starbuck because they are hot and cool at the same time.

Maybe it's a badass song?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCXnJIAQd1o http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijZRCIrTgQc

Muzak... like http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbTjzZzfR7w http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwWTLREMpTc&NR=1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbTjzZzfR7w OH... you meant the other James.

Did you EVER have this poster on your wall? Does this car give you a boner? Can you make a bong out of anything? Can you sing random songs from the Cars, Boston, Kansas, Meatloaf, Queen or Styx... perfectly? Do you have any of the following in your closet? Bell bottoms Paisley of any kind 501 button-fly jeans Concert t-shirts Rolling papers pot seeds empty bottles of tequila a bong (or bongs) Posters for the Bay City Rollers, Yes, Pink Floyd, the Who, the Doors, Kansas, Styx, Foreigner, etc _____________________________________________________________________________ If you answered 5 out of 5, congratulations. You are a Seventies Guy. Please grace us by adding cool 70s trivia and culture to this humble thread.

the Second Time Around 1979 I first met Randy when we were sixteen. I met him at Frank's house- a guy from my football team that I screwed around with from time to time. He enticed me to come over by telling me about a kid from his neighborhood that wanted to join in. Randy was a shy kid. He wasn't big or athletic or a jock. He was cute and a lot more feminine than most of the guys I previously messed around with. What caught my attention was his bright, intelligent blue eyes. Frank treated him like a hooker. He grabbed Randy by his hair, shoved his cock in his mouth and started f**king his face and saying, "You like that don't you little bitch." I was appalled and said, "Dude, be cool." Frank was enjoying being rough and looked at me like I was nuts. "Don't tell me you're soft on this little faggit?" Randy got off of Frank's cock (which was not that long a trip) and said, "It's cool. I wouldn't let him do it like that if we hadn't known each other since diapers." Even at 16 I had seen some humiliating shit and treating people that way was a real turn off so I left the room. A few minutes later after Frank got his 2 minute nut, he joined me on the back porch for a smoke. I asked, "Where's Randy?" "He didn't think that you liked him so he left." Shaking my head I said, "It's not that. I just don't like seeing people treated that way." "I don't get you man. You're one of the roughest guys I know but you are so different with your clothes off." I grinned at him and said, "Better or worse?" "Better I guess." "Look man, I need to go. I'll see you later." Frank just laughed and said, "Randy's house is up towards Castle Hills." I drove my Grand Prix up the road to Castle Hills and I approached him from behind. He was tall and skinny wearing white tennis shorts, a crimson Alabama t-shirt and flip-flops. I drove up beside him and said, "Hey!" He jumped. He wasn't expecting me and gave me a wild eyed expression. I said, "You want to ride around?" He smiled, opened the passenger side door and got in. "Where you want to go?" I said, "Sometimes it ain't the destination, it's the ride." I drove to a nearby wooded lake and parked. He looked at me and said, "I didn't think you liked me back at Frank's." "That's not it. It was the way Frank treated you. I didn't like it. Do you want to smoke a joint?" Randy grinned and looked at me. I pulled out a joint and lit it. Feeling a little self-conscious, I said, "What?" Randy said, "You're not at all what I expected." I took a drag and passed it. "What did you expect?" "Another one of Frank's half-wit jock f**k-buddies who wants a blow job." "I like blow jobs." Randy took a drag and coughed. "Well, who doesn't. I mean there's more to you than that." I took the joint and said, "Thanks." Randy said, "For the joint?" I let my hit out and said, "No. Thanks for noticing. I have to be this ass kicking jock redneck to... I don't know. Survive? Fit in? Mostly to keep people from f**king with me. That's what I have to be. What I am, inside, where it matters, they can't have it. That's for me and the people I chose to share it with." Randy took the joint. I noticed he was looking a little stoned. He said something incredible. Something deep that I had longed to hear. He said, "I understand" and I believed him. I said, "So, would you like to see more of the real me?" He smiled and said, "I believe that I would." I got out of the car and pulled a blanket out of the trunk. We walked to a sunny clearing in the woods where I made love to Randy, gently and with respect. Afterwards we just lay there naked in the afternoon sun and talked for hours. I found out that quickly being Randy's boyfriend would just not work. A hood, stoner, thug like me and a preppy like Randy came from entirely different worlds. His mother would never accept me. My parents would never accept and effeminate guy being around me. However, over the next three years, we shared those worlds on occasion until life happened and took us in different directions. _____________________________________________________________________________ 2010 I had not seen or heard from Randy in years when he friend requested me a few months ago on Facebook. Things started slow. We had both been down a lot of dark and lonely roads. Randy's long time mate David and my Jeff had both died of AIDS in 1996. We had both survived more than thrived. He's been sober and in AA for three years. I've been clean and sober in NA for five years. We both know that we're carrying a shitload of baggage and that we're both damaged goods but for some reason that doesn't seem to matter. Youthful passion and white hot lust have given way to happy familiarity. We talk more than we have sex which is something new and completely alien for me. Maybe we have a chance to have something we both missed because of the times and attitudes and culture. Maybe we have a chance to grow together, heal each other and walk away from the white-hot pain of our pasts. Maybe we have a chance to have some good years and not have to walk alone. I'm damned sure that we're both due for a change for the better. Who knows. Maybe we'll get it right the second time around.

I could rip your head completely off and shit down your chicken neck but I don't shove that in your face either.

I live here and I know what goes on. Many GLBT students are harassed out of high school. It happens all the time. It happened to friends of mine. It could have happened to me but I was stubborn (and still am). It should show you what you see/hear in the media and reality of the situation are two different things. Constance McMillian was a press case. She's nice, she's photogenic, she did Oprah and Ellen. She is presentable and good for ratings. You didn't meet Juin Baize who is much more representative of the problems that small town GLBT young people are facing. He's not good for ratings. Seeing a trans-boy is icky and begs questions that make the viewers change the channel. You DID NOT see him on Oprah or Ellen. Chances are you would have never heard of him or his case had I not posted it here. In Mississippi we are FAR behind in GLBT curve- probably by about thirty years. We're talking about back to basics here: we need is for our gay youth to be allowed to go to school. The Prom is the icing, not the cake. A great many GLBT students are GONE from Mississippi public schools well before their Proms.

Sounds like you are leaving Narnia behind.

I have apologized but I have NOT changed my mind. ______________________________________________________________________________________ Trans Student Suspended from Same School in Mississippi That Canceled Prom, Later Hounded Out of Town posted by DAN SAVAGE on THU, MAR 25, 2010 at 11:19 AM Source Link Constance McMillen wasn't the first student at Itawamba Agricultural High School to contact the ACLU this year. Juin Baize was a student at Itawamba Agricultural

Once again for those who are piling on:

Great line. Copyright it quick or someone here will steal it.

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Do you think that the first time I've had a run in with cops? So Constance got screwed out of her prom. Sad but expected given where she lives. I'm worried about police that think they are working for Hitler. I'm worried about losing clients because some asshole gets an ear-full of hate in church. I'm worried that someone just might shoot me in the back for kicks and it'll be just another unsolved homo-cide. If that doesn't rank higher on the scales of injustice than the prom then you have your head completely up you ass.

Let me tell you why I went off the rails a couple of weeks ago. After all of the media attention over petty crap, some bad things started happening in Mississippi. The churches went into full hate mode. Some people I knew were let go from jobs that they had for years. People with Human Rights Campaign or rainbow bumper stickers were pulled over and harassed by cops. It happened to me the night before the post where I basically said I don't care about the prom, I've got bigger concerns. The cops pulled me over on my way home from a 12 step meeting. They had me open my toolbox and scattered my tools all on the roadside and threw everything in my truck. When they didn't find anything one of them said, we'll get you some other time. It took me an hour to get everything put up. This is Mississippi. This is the shit that we have to live with. I don't mind a fight. Just pick a battle that means something.