Homer'sWorld

Cowboy. I took Reggie on a hunt for the perfect cowboy hat. Can't say that I found it, but I do kinda like the way it looks.


Ride em, cowboy.

What to wear? I really need some new clothes. My jeans have holes. I'm bored with my shirts. I'm going to New York City and don't have a stitch to wear.

When I was a kid I always wore hand-me-downs (I was the youngest of five, had two older brothers). At age 13 my mother told me I had to buy my own clothes. We were so poor that I would work all summer and take 40 or 50 dollars to J. C. Penny's and try to make do. The worst time was when I hit puberty at a very late age at 16 and grew almost 10 inches in one year. I had flood pants the entire time, I was so mortified. Of course I looked totally weird anyway, because I was so skinny and gangly and rather clumsy.

I went away to college and Les pushed some fashion sense into my head. We loved going to Value Village and finding fun vintage things. Les dressed better than I, except for that one white Willy Wear trench coat he bought.

After I graduated from grad school I stopped buying vintage, figuring I could finally afford new clothes. Now I'm suddenly liking 1970s polyester shirts with huge lapels. I'm going to Panchesco's birthday party this weekend and I'm really looking forward to buying a cowboy hat to wear. I wonder if this jaunt into fashion is a temporary thing or maybe a new, exciting phase. I guess you'll have to wait and see.


So sophisticated.

Picture day. As Brian noticed, if I'm out of ideas I talk about my cats. Back in 2002 I bottle fed six kittens (see below). Co-workers adopted four and two found a new home last year. Unfortunately, little Nelson was let outside his new house and was apparently eaten by a coyote. That particular co-worker will not be getting any more kittens.


Catcher, Princess, Bear, and Climber. They came to work with me every day for a month, so much fun.


Princess.


Nelson. He was the best kitten ever, so cute.


Winnie.

Okay, so Kevin had tater tots and a BLT, in case you were wondering.

Last night I took Reggie to karoake so he could meet some people in Tucson. He's here for a couple of months from Orange County. At karaoke we ran into Joe and his friend Dan. Oh Dan was a cutey (really, he's a hottie I guess, I wish I had brought my camera along). I was being chatty and asked where his bf was. Of course it turned out he's a 22-year-old straight guy who bartends at another gay bar. If I were a cute straight guy that is the kinda job I would have had during college- make lot of tips, get to meet straight women who hang out with gay guys, get drunk and forgetful the next morning kinda thang. As we were talking the horrible attempts to sing were going on in the background. One guy was so bad he was actually good and I admired his punkish demeanor.

Today I chatted briefly with Kevin and accomplished a lot at work and had a good day. Plus my irises are starting to bloom in my front yard.


Iris.

The Grill


Nice food, better company.

They keep talking about vegetative states and Idaho comes to mind. But is the potato a vegetable? The one time I was in Idaho they were harvesting potatoes and the whole east side of the state smelled like them.

Memo to myself: If I'm ever in one of those vegetative states please put me out of my misery. Or if I'm forced to "live" like that, make sure Tom Delay, Jeb Bush, and George Bush have to change my diapers.

The All-Terry-All-The-Time news coverage is seriously affecting the Michael Jackson trial. Several days have passed and I'm unclear whether Michael wore a red or a blue armband to court.

Meanwhile, I have a lunch date tomorrow.


Cool graffiti.

Tucson Homo Lifestyle. Jimbo noted that the guys in Tucson were friendly and I would have to agree, it is easier to meet people here than in other places I have lived. In part that is because it is a small town, everyone knows everyone it seems. If someone new shows up, all you have to do is ask a few people and someone will introduce you or you can just go up and say hello.

There is lots to do here. Of course if you are into fancy nightclubs- you are out of luck. We have a dance bar, a drunk bar, a "leather" bar, a couple lesbian joints, and a country western bar. There is the community center, a really nice book store, several other shops, a coffee place, and we have a scraggly little newspaper. A big transgender and drag scene. A film festival and a big outdoor festival in October. Softball, volleyball, bowling, and karoake. The desert is 10 minutes away in most places.

Of course Tucson ain't paradise. We could use a lot more guys in the 30 to 50 range. Getting a date can be real hard work, sometimes I would just rather sit at home and play computer games instead. I guess a lot of guys are into the online thang, but that really gets tedious fast. Of course, I've also lived in North Dakota and Wyoming, so I'm not complaining.

In fact, I'm in a good mood. I'm going on an actual date soon.

I'm a trouble maker. I sent Washington Post columnist Dan Froomkin a note alerting him to a news article in the Arizona Daily Wildcat about a student being banned from Bush's specialmerical in Tucson on Monday (the kid was wearing a Democratic t-shirt) and I got a mention in his column today.

Dropped Jimbo off at the airport. He is the best guest to have come visit, he's funny, he's cute, my friends adore him, my cats adore him. I think the government should clone Jimbo! Last night we watched Betty Butterfield videos and he can do a right-on impression, quite startling I think. He also gave me a hostess gift- a couple of DVDs so now I will have to buy once of those fancy players.

And ohmigod Patti, who sits across from me at work, gave me a Sudafed and Jesus S. Christ I am totally buzzed and energetic now and my nose is dry as the Sahara Desert. Makes it kinda hard to work though.

Tonight Jimbo got to watch Amazing Race with me. We stopped by College Hottie Safeway and saw several hotties. Jimbo's favorite, The Man with the Goatee and Small Beer Belly. He was hot, I agreed. A purchase of angel food cake and whipped cream, then on to David and Abe's. Dougie and Kevin came over, and then David's friend Missy.


Jimbo, tonight.

Now Kevin has to work until 9 PM normally, so it was specially nice to see him.

Kevin.

Now Missy is especially excited to watch the show because she was friends with Alex back in high school, before he moved to West Hollywood and became a reality television show personality.

Missy, excited about seeing Alex.

The gay guys are still my favorites. I felt bad for the Mom tonight, god her son was such a whiney, prissy boy.

Jimbo leaves in the morning, my house is going to be quiet. I'll be seeing him in six weeks in NYC at the bloggers gathering. Hi Joe!

I have to turn the telly off because of the breathless adoration of fuckface Bush, who stopped briefly in town to masturbate in front of his loyal Republican followers. Just hearing/seeing/smelling that twit elevates my blood pressure. He was blathering on about how important life is- the same man who ordered bombs dropped on an Iraqi neighborhood because there was a chance Saddam was nearby, resulting in the death of Iraqi children. So who's life is more important, a Florida vegetable or a bunch of foreign kids?

In other news, Jimbo is off bird watching in southeast Arizona and the house seems quiet without him talking funny to my cats. Any other bloggers want to come visit me? Archerr is coming this summer, maybe I can convince him to both fly in an airplane and try a parsnip!

At the Desert Museum I admired the prairie dogs. A little girl started screaming, "It hurt so hard I can't tell you!" I mentioned to Jimbo that something similar had once happened to me. A short while later we witnessed a pair of snakes fucking. The boa's penis was wiggly, it seemed to have a mind of its own as it sought out the cloaca. Jimbo pointed out the action to the teenaged docents. I think the fact that he used the word "penis" freaked them out.


A red bird- Jimbo likes bird watching.


At The Grill, I am awaiting a chocolate shake.

Any New York bloggers reading this, I may be begging for a couch for a couple of days in May.

I overcooked the asparagus at the Furry Friends of Homer and Panchesco (and Gretchen) dinner last night. Woefully overcooked them, they were rather disgusting. But people still seemed to have a good time in my crowded dining room.


A blurry view- Sandy, Jeffrey, Lagrand, Panchesco, Gretchen, Jimbo, and Patrick.

We withdrew to the living room for an exciting game of Loteria, also known as Mexican Bingo. The 99 cent store is the place to go for inexpensive fun. Jimbo had the honor of being the first to win a prize, he selected Jenny, a doll with a bizarrely wicked look to her.


Jenny and Jimbo, who is more evil?

Everyone managed to win a prize, some, like Panchesco, were lucky enough to score a couple.


Panchesco with animal-shaped squirt guns.


We traveled afterwards to the Venture Inn where I was introduced to Buster, a sometimes porn star with a balloon fetish. Poor Buster, the Venture is going downhill and was almost empty, seems like people are staying home or going out way late. After posing for pictures in the sling they had set up, Jimbo and I decided to come home early.

He's still sleeping in, perhaps a bit tired because Mama Cat decided that last night was the time for her to show off her skill at catching her toys and meowing very loudly whenever she did so. Finally I put her toys away and she behaved the rest of the night.

One of these things is not like the other.


Lunch at Rosas.


Birdwatching, is that a flicker or a finch?


Saint Jimbo.


Standard saguaro picture.


Through the bush.

Jimbo checklist:

House cleaned. X
Yardwork completed. X
Lasagna for Furry Friends of Homer and Panchesco dinner party. X
Cat welcoming dance choreographed. X
Tucson vice squad alerted. X
Press conference scheduled. X
Tucson vice squad alerted, again. X
All systems go, Houston.

Hell phone. I managed to talk for 312 minutes above my limit this last month. Many of those calls were annoying wrong numbers or fund raisers trying to get dollars out of me. I'd be real cranky except I just paid off my credit card bill and I'm debt free except for my mortgage. So no use crying over spilled minutes.

Okay, I am a bit annoyed because I've been considering buying a DVD player. I know, I know, I must be the last person on the planet without one. I just have a real hard time buying toys for myself and a DVD player counts as a major toy. So I guess I'll wait a few months now since next month is car insurance and the following is a trip to NYC (Hi Patch!). I am practicing behaving myself in the hopes that I'll be able to put some money away in one of those "saving accounts" that I hear tell of.

But knowing my luck my car will die tomorrow. Let's hope not, because I have to pick Jimbo up at the airport.

David G. says I'm a disgusting pervert and I'm sure a whole bunch of Republican nutcases would agree. We were watching the Amazing Race tonight where contestants were eating four pounds of meat. I couldn't figure out why they didn't just make themselves puke and shove more in. Eat and puke and so on.

We love that show and David G., Abe, and Doug have watched the last three seasons together. The casting seems a little off this year- overpowered by Rob and Amber from Survivor. I detest Rob, he grates on my nerves and is just an unappealing person. The gay couple this year are my favorites, the rest of the cast I just don't care about.

So what's your favorite television show of all time? I'm only a little embarrassed to admit mine is Knots Landing.

So I'm back to normal- a combination of completing some awful work at work, a fun visit from my best friend Les, sunny weather, and my cats are being super loveable. Plus I checked Google and guess what wesbite comes up number one when you search "Homer M."? [edited 21 Feb 2006]

Plus my house is nice and clean so I don't have to worry much for Jimbo's upcoming visit. I'm looking forward to showing him the town and introducing him to my furriest friends.

Mama Cat is letting me know that I'm through typing- she meows, "Pet me now, Human!" And I guess I better obey, don't want to piss her off because she might start a weblog and write about me.

"Are you in a shame spiral?" Les asks me. We are being goofy and our mouths are running a mile a minute. Earlier, I explained to Les a certain bizarre sexual practice that he hadn't heard of. I'm honored to be an educator (just like that other Homer!). Les and I have been best friends for 20 years now.


Homer and Les.

Today Abe and David and then Chad and Damien came over and we went hiking to look at wild flowers.


Hiking in the Sonoran Desert.

Lots of wild flowers are blooming, I think next week when Jimbo is here will be the peak week.

Unknown pink flower and prickly pear.

There were a couple of types I didn't know. I think the poppies are my favorite.


Poppies.

Or maybe these red ones.

Red flowers in wash.

At one point the canyon walls constrict and there is Archaic period rock art, carved about 2,000 years ago. Mostly geometric designs, along with some corn stalks and human figures.


Rock art.

Les is making dinner for me tonight and then we may make bead mosaics before heading out to a couple of Tucson's finer bars. Maybe we'll see you there?

“If you are going to print homo type stuff please use a name other than Homer. Homer the Homo? A little class, please.”

I’ll admit that Homer is a rare name. It was once a quite popular name- in the 1900s it ranked number 91 in popularity. By the 1960s, the decade of my birth, it ranked 524. Since that time it has dropped significantly and, according to the Social Security Administration, Homer was not among the top 1,000 names given to boys in any year since 1990.

Having an unusual name is not always an easy thing. In grade school and again in college I had guys calling me “Homer the Homo.” As Homer M., Jr. was kind enough to point out, Homer and Homo, amazingly enough, sound somewhat alike! The two words have a syllable in common! If you say the two together (Homer Homo), it sounds kinda neat!

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I was named Homer because that was the name of an elderly man who lived next door to my father when he was a kid. My father had a messed up childhood and wasn't allowed to see his biological father's family. His mother's parents died when he was young. So old Homer became my father's surrogate grandfather. Back when I was born my parents decided to honor him by giving me that name. From stories I've heard, he was a pretty fun guy, who sometimes liked to drink a bit too much. On the other hand, he stayed married to Josephine for 56 years and was a generally good person. I have his pocket watch and moustache cup. He's been dead for over 50 years.

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As an aside, I know I’m not the only Homo Homer because one time I was walking up a hilly street in San Francisco and there scratched into some once-wet concrete was “Homer loves Mike.”

Photo day.


Pansy.

Everything is blurry as I hurry to clean house. Where do all the dust bunnies come from? I've finished and the house is immaculate, I hope Les gets here before the cats throw up on something.

People wanted details on the ascaris worm story. I started researching the topic, and I'm sorry but it is so gross that I couldn't subject you to a detailed discussion of how one gets infected (please wash your hands).

In the case of the unfortunate student, the yukky worms sometimes get into peoples lungs and when they are adult they sometimes like to take a hike (or slither or crawl) and leave the body to mate and lay eggs. The story I was told was that this girl was sitting in science class and the student sitting next to her saw the worm coming out her nose. Screaming ensued. The science teacher, heroic lesbian that she was, grabbed the worm and pulled it out. It was about a foot long. Yuck.

I stopped walking around barefoot after seeing it all preserved in that bottle. Nasty. It was on the shelf next to the bottled horse fetus. Equally nasty, but less likely to come out of someone's nose.

Today NPR carried a story on schools being purposely contaminated by mercury by unruly students (trying to shut down the school). I had to laugh. When I was in 7th grade I went to a school that was so bad that in my science class:

- our teacher poured mercury in our hands so we could play with it.
- we didn't have text books for six weeks so we read the Star War novel instead.
- a prize exhibit was an ascaris worm in a bottle of alcohol that had crawled out of someone's nose in a previous class.

How I managed to survive and go off to college is a miracle.

Two emails I received suggest I'm schizophrenic:

Example A: I admire your integrity, find you posts always interesting and your line of work is fascinating.

Example B: what a pathetic hypocrite you are

Brian and I made the mistake of peering into a toilet in one of the model rooms at IKEA. An unpleasant surprise was discovered. We did not make the mistake again.

Saturday started out with lunch with Larry and David M. at the B-Line cafe.


David M. and Larry.

I had a roasted vegetable sandwich. The best part were the potato chips- easily the best ones that I have ever had.


Still life with expresso.

We chatted and hung out for a while, then it was time to say adieu and head north to Phoenix to La Casa de Brian.

On the way up I-10 threatening storm clouds became visible.


Cloud at the summit of Picacho Peak.

Soon it started pouring rain and amazingly enough, no one really slowed down. People drove like maniacs. I, on the other hand, drove like a granny and met no awful fate. I arrived at Brian's abode an hour late, but Elliott the Cat did not care.

On the ride over to Adam's house I contributed to the first text message I have ever sent. We again arrived safely and Adam gave me the tour. I admired the highlights and mostly kept quiet whenever I saw a horrible historically inaccurate detail. He has a lovely home and the biggest koi fish I have ever seen.

It is about a foot long.

At the vegetarian Asian restaurant I had the moo shoo vegetables. Adam partook of the sizzling rice dish, and to make Jonny happy I snapped a picture of it. I tried out one of Brian's mushrooms and in my haste to get it out of my mouth, it flew out onto the table, impressing the guys. It was the most awful mushroom I have ever had in my mouth.


Sizzling rice and vegetables.


The boys, post-fortune cookie.

After dropping Adam off, Brian and I returned to his abode and made exciting plastic bead mosaics. We also watched part of Can't Stop the Music, and I finally begged Brian to turn that mess off. It was so bad it was just plain bad. I was embarrassed for Steve Guttenberg, luckily it didn't kill his career. (I just checked, he's co-starring in the new version of The Poseiden Adventure!).

A restless night's sleep and this morning Brian and I were off to breakfast where I enjoyed the yummy Monkey Waffles, with a liberal amount of bananas, toasted coconut, and sliced almonds.

We journeyed to Tempe to visit IKEA, where we made the aforementioned discovery. Now, I think the last time I was in IKEA was in 1996 in San Diego. My tastes have changed since then. Most of the furniture just looked cheap. The housewares looked cheap. The only things I cared for were the curtains and a few odds and ends. I was amazed at the amount of junk people were carting out of there. I think I can avoid going back, although I highly recommended their gooseberry preserves.

Lunch in Scottsdale at a pizza place, then a trip to BS West to meet Brian's adorable friend Shane. He was wearing really fun plaid pants. I am a fan of the liberal use of plaid.

On the drive home I was amazed at the first burst of wildflowers. The lower areas near Phoenix and Picacho Peak are beginning to bloom with lupines, poppies, brittlebush, and some red and orange ones I don't know.


Brittlebush.

Lupines.

I stopped at Picacho and got out of my car to photograph. It was easy to forget I was only 50 feet away from I-10, the colors were so beautiful.

Back home the cats climb on me and everything feels right.

Reminder: The word "crap" is also considered a profanity by idiotic Arizona Republican state senator staffmembers. In this case, Staffmember Allen hung up after lecturing me on how my friend, who was killed by a handgun, would have lived if he had been carrying one. Of course Allen knew absolutely nothing about this particular set of circumstances, he didn't know Philip, how he died. Allen is a Republican drone whose boss just pushed legislation through that will allow people to carry guns into Arizona bars and restaurants. Allen even refused to take my name and contact information. It is just better to pretend that people who don't like guns don't exist.

It sucks being a little depressed. I've been down ever since I got back from England in January. Symptoms- not feeling like going to work, not interested in men (I'm anti-man!), just feeling sad a lot of the time. Sometimes I just sat and played Bejeweled2 and felt sorry for myself.

Luckily it seems to be passing- the wretched stuff I'm doing at work is almost done, it is getting warm, I've got some friends coming the next two weeks to visit. I've started work on a painting for my kitchen, tonight I did a semi-major house cleaning, etc, etc. I'm glad things are looking up, it really isn't much fun feeling blue.

Some advice for Michael:

1). Your lipstick color sucks.
2). Fire your wardrobe person. Red armbands, badges, and gold chains hanging from your belt are like so NEVER.
3). What's up with your butt-crack-shaped chin?
4). Too many Twinkies?
5). I find 12 and 13 year old boys to be, well, 12 or 13 years old. Isn't there someone your own age to hang out with, preferably without a crack whore mother?

What's your advice to Michael?

Legrand came over and I made him veggie corn dogs, tater tots, salad, and some bruschetta for dinner. We walked down the street and then up the side of the mountain to the quarry to look at the lights. Afterwards we went over to Abe and Dave's to watch Amazing Race with Doug and Kevin.

Ohmy, I really liked the spunky gay guys, the weirdo blonde girls, and best of all the mom and son. The rest? Who cares. I was so glad that there were no actor/model couples and only one beauty queen.

I want one of those fun Peruvian hats.


Legrand, before tater tots.