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Over at Barbwire, Robert Oscar Lopez has an article up on how to be a Manly, testosterone laden STRAIGHT DUDE, complete with ten ‘tips’ for getting over that awful gay. There’s so much material (two dense pages), I’m just going to pull bits here and there, you can check the whole mess for yourself, and calling it a mess is a serious understatement. As well as all the lies of the “ex-gay” bullshit, there’s a serious misconception of just what a “straight man” is, too. There’s a full embrace of toxic masculinity, along with some incredible mistakes in that regard. Altogether, it’s terribly pathetic, a complete caricature of being a man, a cartoon construct filled with desperation.
I don’t have much more time before the law makes it illegal for me to share the ten tips I will share in this blog. So I better type quickly and give you ten tips on: how to go from gay to straight. I am speaking from some expertise, but mostly from my own experience. These tips will be helpful if you find yourself wanting to get out of the gay world but your goal is not celibacy.
Oh, I see the drama has not been forsaken. It will be illegal to talk about my desire to be a straight dude, oh no!!1!!
There are certain perks about being gay that you are going to miss. For instance, if you identify as gay, people pity you and give you less responsibility for being a jerk. You get to be a complete whore and have that called liberation. Sex is easy to get and commitments easy to flake out on.
It’s a bad start, painting the queer communities all over the world this way, like a bad ’80s movie. Cruuuuise, baybee! Anyone can be a jerk. Anyone can sleep around. Sex is not always easy to get. Anyone can be afraid of commitment. Unfortunately, Mr. Lopez is all about the stereotypes.
In the gay world, you may have competed from time to time for the attention of men with nice physiques; now, you will be fighting against men with even more well-developed physiques, trying to achieve victory over them in order to win for yourself a coveted prize: a virtuous and desirable wife.
Soon you will see how much harder life is for straight guys.
:Snortsputter: Sorry, almost choked on my tea there. Oh yes, let’s hear it for the poor, pathetic straight dudes. Their lives are so gosh darn hard, livin’ the status quo! Now maybe it’s just me, but I haven’t really noticed a tonne of straight dudes with even MORE well-developed physiques wandering about. Maybe it’s where I live, but there seems to be a preponderance of pot bellies.
Once you go straight, you may go years without sex; nobody wants to hear you cry about it. Once you find your woman, you can’t just blow off things she complains about. You have to sit and listen to her whine about stupid stuff for hours without laughing or rolling your eyes or getting snarky.
I’m not sure the sacrifice is worth this, and while Mr. Lopez goes on and on about the big prize of a wife, owning that there woman, he paints a picture of complete subjection to said woman, and you just have to take it, because that’s the price you pay. There’s not one bloody word about finding a partner, a friend, someone to share your life with love and care. And I have to say, no one is getting my damn snark. It’s all mine, and I’m not sacrificing for anyone.
Most importantly, once you go straight, nobody wants to hear you complain or talk about your problems. The minute you leave gay identity behind, you go from being a pitiable and pathetic victim to a grown man with the ability to solve his own problems. This means you cannot break down or become defeatist, and you cannot expect sympathy just for being you. When straight men threaten to kill themselves if people do not give them what they want, this is called abusive rather than the grounds for a hashtag campaign.
So…you’re saying straight men suck at being friends? All the gay people I know are not considered to be pitiable or pathetic by anyone, least of all themselves, and I’m afraid they get stuck with solving their own problems, just like everyone else, you stupid dipshit. Of course straight men can break down, they can become defeatist, and depressed, just as anyone can, and that calls for support and help, not that you’d offer any, Mr. Lopez. And more to the point, Mr. Lopez, it’s perfectly normal and alright for straight men to break down, feel defeatist, or become depressed. No man should feel like he cannot reach out for help or that men don’t deserve help. Keeping crap all bottled up is the reason why a lot of angry, straight, mostly white men end up going on mass killings. It’s horrible, evil, toxic bullshit that men are supposed to be silent sufferers, that “real” men don’t do this and don’t do that. It’s a shit attitude, and it’s harmful. People are people, and all people should be able to reach out when they are in need, with no stigma attached.
Perhaps the biggest transformation signifies the most important change: your sexual identity will no longer be based on what you want, but rather, what you give to a woman. You must abandon the practice of dwelling on whether you like this or are excited by that–the issue now is: what body do you have, and how can it give pleasure to others? You have a penis, which is the basic piece of equipment to bring happiness to a woman (though you must make sure that match is right). But from now on, the quest is not to gratify your penis, but rather to give pleasure to her with it. You will measure your sex life by how happy she is, how pleasured she feels, how much satisfaction she expresses.
Did you get that, women? All it takes to make you happy is a penis. I wonder if Mr. Lopez knows you can avail yourself of a wide variety of detachable penises, in varying degrees of softness/hardness, colour, and size? Some of those bad boys even have convenient lotion or lube inside. Others have happy time batteries. Oh my! Personally, I don’t want a partner who is obsessed with only one side of the sexual aspect of the relationship.
You need to get healthy, with a decent body mass and strength. You need to be financially stable. If you join a gym, don’t join one with gay men in it. Be around masculine men and pick up their mannerisms and humor. Do not listen to women who say they want sensitive men or an equal share of power in the household; women want leadership, strength, and guidance from men. You have to become a rock of fortitude, a source of security–for men, that is the love we give. And you have to be in good enough shape to make her body feel unbelievable pleasures she might have never imagined.
Just how does one avoid a gym with even one gay person in it? How would you know? I’m pretty sure going around and asking people if they’re some flavour of queer would get you promptly kicked out. Oh, and security is nice, but I prefer my partner to actually like and love me.
The manosphere may shock you (I mean sites like Roosh’s Return of Kings) with its misogyny and vulgarity. But you need to hear the thoughts of straight guys.
Those are not the thoughts of straight dudes, Mr. Lopez. Those are the thoughts of toxic assholes, who are not the least bit interested in finding a wife; they’re into the dark side of that whoredom business, using, abusing, and tossing. It’s all about notches. As for the thoughts of straight guys, well here’s the thing: you’re talking about a fucktonne of individuals, Mr. Lopez, and most of them are not represented by the toxic manosphere. You seem to buying into this notion that a manly man has to be a toxic, misogynistic asshole. Straight dudes are not a hive mind, or any other type of collective.
It will also educate you on how straight men deal with setbacks and frustration. You need to increase your masculinity and self-confidence before you start dating girls. In addition to spending your time online in these kinds of environments, you want to do activities that place you in contact with straight men, and do not confide in other guys everything you are dealing with. Part of being a man is not having to talk about everything in your head, and just listening to what other people do. If you want to be in a relationship with a woman, you need to become a man — the kind of person who can be stalwart, unflappable, strong, and reliable, someone with no problems or drama. Being around straight men will gradually help you get there.
Ah, the school of stiff upper lip and penis! You don’t need anymore than that, straight men!
In crass terms, when you become a woman’s sexual partner (husband), the sex life of the marriage will largely depend on your sexual performance. You will need strong abdominal muscles, gluteal muscles, arms, and legs. You want your woman to feel like a powerful animal has her in his power, who instead of crushing her is using his strength to lift her out of the doldrums of this world into a dreamworld of ecstasy and limitless wonder. For her, sex is a vacation like riding the jet skis in Jamaica. You are the stallion she will ride into glory. But to be that stallion, you need to be muscular, have high testosterone, and be fit.
I, uh, I oh gods…falls over laughing. I think Mr. Lopez may have been reading a tonne of bad bodice rippers. A good sex life is one in which all the performances count. If this is just about you, might as well toss the wife a nice detachable penis, and go back to masturbating.
Okay, that’s it for me. I can’t take anymore. I’m going to go clean instead. Yikes. You can read all two pages of compleat shit here.
StarkAdjective.
1 a: rigid in or as if in death. b: rigidly conforming (as to a pattern or doctrine): Absolute <stark discipline>
2: archaic: strong, robust.
3: utter, sheer <stark nonsense>
4 a: barren, desolate. b 1: having few or no ornaments, bare <a stark white room> 2: harsh, blunt <the stark realities of death>
5: sharply delineated <a stark contrast>
-starkly, adverb.
-starkness, noun.
[Origin: Middle English, stiff, strong, from Old English stearc; akin to Old High German starc strong, Lithuanian starinti to stiffen.]
(Before 12th Century)
²Stark
Adverb.
1: in a stark manner.
2: to an absolute or complete degree: Wholly <stark naked> <stark mad>
(13th Century)
“But someone had left the lights on active mode, and their reflections made the night simultaneously bright and spooky. Flashing off trees, creating gargoyles that lurked in the stark shadows of the underbrush, making people move in stylized slow motion all around me.” – In Dark Woods, Jeannette de Beauvoir.
Meadow. Margaridas, Portuguese for daisies.
I will not dare to identify these to the genus level, there are many look-alikes in the Asteraceae family. They are lovely wild daisies, that’s all.
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I am in full chemo brain space cadet mode, so this post will most likely be on the disjointed side. As of my last chronicle, I have been struggling with the cumulative effects of chemo. My 6th cycle was pushed back by a week, and I went in for IV fluids four times before that cycle. I cannot even begin to say just how much that helped. It upped my energy and my appetite, and I need all the help I can get with the latter. On Saturday (the 5th this month), I went for a very short walk. As short as it was, I could feel that I was pushing things too much. I ended up going into full collapse all of Sunday.
One of the more terrifying effects of chemo is getting hit with this overwhelming weakness. You find yourself unable to walk all the way across your dwelling without having to stop and rest. The idea of walking two blocks without resting several times is impossible. It’s difficult to describe just how bad it is. Normal movements are taxing to the point you can’t finish simple tasks like folding clothes or washing some dishes without taking breaks. The worst of that hit me back when I did the Neulasta, but its been lying in wait, and hit again after the short walk. All of which brings me back to hydration. After I had the four pushes of IV fluid, I felt close to normal. What used to be normal. Rick emails me every day while he’s off at work, to check in and see how I’m doing. One of his emails included this line: You seemed way more alive last night than you have in a long time! I sat for a long time, staring at that, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. It drove home just how close to dead I’ve been, how…faded. It hurt like hell too, because it was a very sharp reminder of just how fucking rotten this has been for Rick, how difficult it is for him to see me mostly gone, and wondering if I’m still there, buried under all the side effects. You can’t help feeling like you’re letting everyone down, including yourself. It’s very difficult to engage mentally and emotionally when you can barely bring yourself to move physically.
I’ve been steadily downhill since the walk, so Rick called infusion yesterday to set up fluids for Wednesday, but they said they could fit me in that afternoon, so off we went on Monday for another IV push. I could easily tell I was once again very dehydrated, because I didn’t have to pee. If my fluids are good, I have to race to the nearest lav as soon as I’m unhooked, and there have been times I’m off with IV pole, couldn’t wait. After the fluids today, we ran a few errands, and Rick once again remarked that the difference after I get fluids is night to day. For the last two cycles, I’m going to set up appointments for fluids on the Monday and Wednesday after my pump comes off. If you find yourself dealing with the terrifying weakness, you might want to holler for getting a series of IV fluids after a cycle.
We were sitting in the car in the market parking lot, having a sticky chocolate break before doing the market stuff, and I was telling Rick about how I had been feeling, that it wasn’t just the physical shakiness, which is still with me, but this loud, internal shakiness, all fizzy and overwhelming. Right away, he nailed what it was like – a really bad hangover. I haven’t had a hangover of any kind for a very long time, but the recognition was instant, it is just like that, the same dehydration and imbalance you get from drinking too much, when all you’re really capable of is sleeping it off. Chemo is mostly all “trying to sleep it off”, but that doesn’t work for chemo like it does for a hangover. This is not a matter of not having enough fluid intake, either. The chemo and the side effects dehydrate you to a point you could not drink enough of anything to bring you to proper hydration. I’m drinking something or other pretty much all the time, and still ended up like a walking piece of brittle kindling. Being dehydrated can also make your blood pressure plummet, so if you are getting consistently low reading like I was, look to get yourself properly hydrated, and your blood pressure will normalize quickly.
Dehydration also makes some of the side effects worse, like the skin peeling. It’s bad enough when you’re plump with fluid, and a nightmare when you’re all dried out. Scratching an itch will end up with your skin splitting open. I think that’s about it for now, my brain is jumping ship, and I need sleep. As always, if I have more to add, I’ll edit sometime today.
On a food related note, if you work in a hospital cafeteria, making the food and all, for the love of humanity, do not put effing cardamom in pumpkin pie! Also, if you grind the seed pod along with the seed, don’t ever touch the spice again. This comes up because last cycle, I was hungry, and Rick wandered off to the cafeteria to find something for us to snack on. We ended up with pumpkin pie that tasted like Vicks. Cardamom is a lovely spice, but if you don’t know how to use it, it’s a disaster. Chemo messes with your taste enough, getting a slice of Vicks pie doesn’t help. :D Speaking of, check out this Vicks ad, my my. (I did make sure it was that pie, not me. Afterwards, at the market, we bought a pumpkin pie, and it was just fine. I brought home another one yesterday. Turns out that it’s an easy thing to eat during chemo, and it’s cooling without triggering the oxali cold sensitivity.)
Water is life, and if you’re undergoing chemo, it doesn’t do to overlook the importance of it.
ETA: I’m actually cleaning today! And doing some laundry! Never thought I’d be so effing happy about that. Another ETA: If you’re in treatment or a caregiver who makes appointments, you do not need to go through any hoops to get fluids – just call infusion directly, and your grand and wonderful nurses will set you all up.
Lichen. Líquen.
Only slightly different spellings in English and Portuguese to refer to this fascinating symbiotic relationship between fungi and photosynthetic microorganisms (cyanobacteria or algae). As far as I was able to determine, this moss-like lichen belongs to the genus Cladonia.
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