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Gay
Pinkyswear
Oh, to quote Mark Twain. I would just dive into that ripe old rhyme of the master about San Francisco summers, but I hate to sound like everyone else in the world. It was a cloudy summer week, and I wasn’t at all surprised. In fact, it was kind of nice to be back at my regular pace, no longer exhausted by the pace of wine-soaked park days basking in the summer sun. I haven’t seen a grassy field for about a week, and I am making it, thanks in large part to the haunts I have lately forgotten. More
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Gay
Room for Squares
This past weekend, I took the opportunity afforded me by an open calendar to leave the hustle and bustle of the city, if only for a momentary respite from the month long gloom of our overcast summer. A few friends and I hitched up our wagon and headed to the relative quiet of the Saratoga Springs for my first experience with a type of camping that’s altogether different than to what we’re accustomed. More
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Gay
Pinkyswear
In the San Francisco gay community, we take our events quite seriously. Why, even this past weekend, while partially marred by the events that transpired over Gay Pride and July Fourth, was more or less replete with some riveting good times. I love the summer for that reason, how even though everyone is getting ragged they just seem to sleep it off in the sun before moving on to the next party. You can always catch up on the summer scene at Dolores Park! If you know the right people that is. More
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Gay
Room for Squares
Not so long ago, an English bard asked the question: “What’s in a name?” For the star crossed lovers in his play, a name was everything; it single-handedly predetermined their fates and ultimately brought about their untimely deaths. But “Romeo and Juliet” is a 16th century play written for an Elizabethan audience. And while 400 years isn’t really a long time relatively speaking, it is ample time to remove us from the confines of taxonomy that existed around the time of the plays inception. Or at least it should be. More
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Gay
Pinkyswear
Okay, San Francisco, so I have to say it. What the fuck is wrong with this town these days! I mean, it’s not like there is anyplace else on earth that could possibly be any better, but still! Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe it’s the smoky air, and perhaps it is even a continued backlash against the rest of the country in celebrating the Fourth of July, but for some reason the past week has been rough stuff all over town. Maybe I should elaborate. More
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Gay
Room for Squares
Not too long ago, a new comic book store opened up in the Castro. Little neighborhood bookstores like it are becoming increasingly rare, so it was nice to see, nestled among the tireless window displays of topless men with large packages, a haven for the comic book geek that suggests gay men are into more than just looking like superheroes. It’s not a relation that’s often thought about with more than derision, but comic books and gay men actually have a lot more in common than meets the eye. More
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Gay
Pinkyswear
Seriously fags, it has taken nearly three days, countless phone calls, about thirty cigarettes and a bout of tears, and I have finally begun to make sense of the wild weekend past. In fact, sitting in a room with three good friends, we decided that together we had about 45 minutes to an hour of memories from the weekend collectively. Yes, folks, just like you, I was tossed like yesterday’s macaroon from Thursday to the last frantic moments of Juanita Moore’s pool party. The addition of my maintained buzz was only heightened by the thick, repugnant gays from the east. Whether they hailed from Dublin or Des Moines, they were definitely a force. More
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Gay
Room for Squares
A few years ago, I was watching “Queer As Folk” and Brian Kinney, in typical unforgiving candor, gave his opinion of straight people. He said, “There are only two kinds of straight people in the world: the ones who hate you to your face and the ones who hate you behind your back.” At the time, I thought that statement was too harsh and overly cynical, but something happened this last Pride weekend that almost made me change my mind. More
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Gay
Pinkyswear
Thumbing through the Pride pages of my advanced copy of the SF Guardian, I came upon a delightful site. With my dear acquaintance Jason Kendig working his sexy looks on the cover, I came to find that a bevy of my besties had made the list for hot, pink, queer city most eligible faggots or whatever they were called. I was overjoyed, and it made me really think about how proud I am to have Pride! Not only do I get to be a beacon for the gay sentinels here in San Francisco, but I get to see them appreciated, acknowledged, and continually maintain the legacy of this community year after year! More
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Gay
Room for Squares
One thing I’ve learned from the hordes of people who come for Pride is that, when it comes to meeting other people, people are weird. It just seems that the formalities of first impressions almost always get in the way of true introductions. Every single time I meet a new person, I find myself having to sit through an exchange of niceties that is neither informative nor interesting. Meeting people should be easy, and getting to know them should be easier still. We just have to steer clear of a few fatal mistakes. More
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