While much progress has been made on gay rights over the course of the past few years, there are still some areas where we remain far behind and where a double standard exists. Take for example the case of 18 year old Kaitlyn Hunt of Palm Bay, Florida. She is in high school and dating a 15 year old girl. And because of this, she is being prosecuted for two felony counts of “lewd and lascivious battery on a child 12-16 years of age”. I can’t begin to tell you what is wrong with this case.

First of all, there is a world of difference sexually between a 12 year old and a 15 year old. It is safe to say there are probably tens of thousands of 15 year olds having sex in this country and who the hell knows how many around the world. Face it, teens are sexual beings, even at 15. A typical 12 year old is not sexual and probably not having sex. I know there needs to be a line; I get that, but when you have somebody who is 18 and dating a classmate, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Why is it okay when she is 17 but the day she turns 18 all of a sudden it is wrong?

In addition, you and I both know damn well that if this were a straight relationship, the likelihood of charges being brought up would be slim and none. Kaitlyn potentially could have her entire life altered and ruined because some parents and a fucking prosecutor don’t approve of gays.

Fortunately we live in the internet age. And that means you can protest and petition a hell of a lot easier and with more of forum and chance of reaching people to tell your story. Which is where the wonderful change.org comes in. Kaitlyn’s kick ass dad has started a petition which you can sign by going to the link below:

http://www.change.org/petitions/assistant-state-attorney-brian-workman-stop-the-prosecution-of-an-18-year-old-girl-in-a-same-sex-relationship?utm_campaign=signature_receipt&utm_medium=email&utm_source=share_petition

This past weekend I was kind of cat sitting for my friends who were out of town. Now I should preface this by saying that I HATE cats. In fact, I’m not an animal person in the least. But that being said, my thoughts on animals is that I leave them alone if they leave me alone. We have an understanding. I don’t wish animals any ill will; I don’t think it is okay to abuse animals at all, but I’m just not a pet person. My friend probably didn’t know that when she asked me to cat sit, but it’s okay. Part of the problem is that she lives about 45 minutes from me in Chicago’s Lincoln Park so I had to find some excuses to go to the city, which is not a bad thing, shit I love the city.

So Thursday night I drove up there after work to feed the cats for the first time. I go to try to get into the building and neither of the keys she gave me worked. I tried for quite a long time to get in but to no avail. I called her and left her a message but she didn’t call back. I decided that maybe I would buzz the neighbors and beg them to let me in, but shit, it was 9 at night and I was a stranger trying to get into the building. I thought about trying to get in the back way but didn’t want to get myself arrested. I waited for her to call back but she never did and after about 45 minutes I left.

Friday I spent much of the day very stressed out wondering how the fuck I was going to get into the building to feed those damn cats. She did finally text me and I downplayed not being able to get in as I didn’t want to worry her, but the reality was that I was that I had no fucking idea how I was going to get in that building and feed those cats. I knew though that at the very least I had to try.

I had a class in the city on Saturday morning so the plan was to sleep there overnight as it was a hell of a lot closer than coming all the way from the burbs. But first I had to get in the fucking building. I managed to get out there a little bit earlier, this time about 8:15 or so. Of course I tried the key again and it didn’t work. But, then I saw a lady who was taking her garbage out and asked her if she lived there and she said yes. I explained the situation and she said she worked with my friend’s husband as well and that she would love to let me in. I was very grateful and she asked me if I was going to be needing to get back in later in the weekend. I explained to her I would and asked her if she could buzz me in. She said instead she could give me her number and I could call her. In fact she insisted that I just take her number. I told her I didn’t want to put her out and didn’t want her to have to stay home all weekend but she said she didn’t care; after all her husband was out of town for the whole weekend and she had nothing to do. I took the number and thanked her for her help and went into the apartment.

The next morning I was thinking about it and it occurred to me that she very well might have been hitting on me. Or not. I mean she could have been just being nice. Or maybe she wanted me. I honestly don’t know. I’m dense when it comes to things like this. Fortunately I was able to get another spare key that my friend had in the house so I never actually needed to bother the neighbor again but I have to wonder if she wanted me to bother her.

I know pretty much everybody has reoccurring dreams but is anybody else as curious about reoccurring dreams as I am? I know a lot of it is the subconscious coming out or some fears are are manifesting themselves in dreams, but why do they have to happen so randomly? What is it that sets them off? What can be done to prevent them (or make them keep happening if they are good) or lessen them? For me there are several I have had either currently or when I was younger:

• When I was a teen and in my early to mid twenties I used to have a reoccurring dream that I’m trying to give myself a blow job and when I finally make it I got so excited that I ran out of the room to tell everybody “hey, look what I can do!” you know, as if it was some sort of amazing trick, which in a way, I guess it was. And while I know you might think I’m kidding, I’m serious as fuck that this is a dream that I used to have all the time. I haven’t had it though since I came out to people, I think it had something to do with my homosexuality and being in the closet.
• I used to have this reoccurring dream that I was pregnant and I go to the doctor and ask him “how the fuck did this happen and more importantly, how do I get this baby out of me?” And then he tells me but I can’t hear what he says but I react by saying something “oh shit, no fucking way are you taking it that way!”
• Nowadays a dream I have quite often is pretty timely given the tornadoes that hit Oklahoma today (and the storm that is brewing here as I write this) is that a tornado is about to hit where I’m at. It is so vivid and realistic that I can see the funnel cloud and everything. The dream stops just before it hits the building I’m in. But, I have these dreams probably because tornadoes are one of my biggest fears.
• Although I have flown more often the past few year, I still have a fear of flying. This probably explains the dreams I have every now and then in which I witness a plan crash. I think I just need to fly more and get more used to it so that I can overcome the fear.

So what reoccurring dreams do you have?

Yesterday was the running of the Preakness, which is the second leg in horse racing’s triple crown. Being that I recently won big betting on the Kentucky Derby, three friends of mine and me decided to go to the OTB to place our bets. First though we met up at my friend J.T.’s house for a kick ass lunch of smoked chicken and some delicious sides with s’mores ice cream for dessert. Holy shit was that good! Don’t know if you are a s’mores person but man if you are then you NEED to try it.

We got to the OTB about 4:30 and quickly placed our bets. While I didn’t win, my buddy Dave did in classic fashion. See, he made about 10 bets on the race and accidentally made the same bet twice. Well that mistake wound up getting him over $600! To top it off, he won another $400+ on the next race. The rest of us were not so lucky at the OTB. In fact, combined the rest of us probably lost over $200. But being that Dave had just won a ton of money and we were only about 10 minutes from the casino, we decided to head there.

For some reason, our tradition when we park in a parking garage is to park on the top level and this time was no different. We always go to the top and look out at the view. We were four stories up and we looked over the edge and did what any 12 year old would do: we spit over the edge. Of course the problem here is that we aren’t 12; we were actually four guys in our mid to late 30s spitting from four stories up aiming for a fucking manhole. Then again, Dave offered us $50 to anybody who could hit the damn thing. None of us came close. So I had the brilliant idea of instead of using spit, we should toss coins down to try to land on the manhole. Again, to no avail, but when I think about it, it is probably amazing that we didn’t get kicked out right there. After all, they do have security cameras fucking everywhere at a casino.

Once inside we started to gamble when we came across a $100 slot machine in the high limit area. I started to talk the others into each putting in $25 for a hundred dollar spin. While I had J.T. on board with me, I could not convince Don and Dave to do it as well. So we decided on pooling our money on a $5 machine. We stood there in front of the machine going over a few ground rules. I should mention at this point that J.T. had won a significant amount of money at the casino. And I had won on the Derby two weeks ago and of course, Dave had won at the OTB. Don won big at the casino back in January but we figured he was due again, so we had him sit and spin. And that was probably the quickest $100 we had ever blown.

The rest of the night was a pretty good time. Don wound up coming back and not only won back all that he had lost but managed to profit a decent sum as well, leaving me as the only loser for the day. Didn’t matter to me though. After all, I’m still up from two weeks ago and I had a great time hanging out all night

You know what has always befuddled me? Singers who mumble lyrics. Now I’ve said before that since I was a kid I’ve always misheard lyrics and while yes, I hear some fucked up shit sometimes, a big reason is because of how the songs are sung. I swear some singers mumble so much that you are shocked when you read the actual lyrics. The mumbling is something that happens in just about any genre of music. But a couple of artists really stand out from others:

• Bruce Springsteen- I swear he is the king of mumbling. Forgive me for this, but he mumbles so bad in “Born To Run” that he sounds like a stroke victim learning to talk again. Shit, even artists that cover his songs wind up mumbling through their remakes almost like it is contagious. I mean just listen to Manfred Man’s cover of “Blinded By The Light.” No they don’t say douche but it sure as fuck sounds like it.
• Tom Petty- Maybe he just wants to try to sound more like Bob Dylan but boy is he hard to understand in certain songs. I swear in the chorus to “Refugee” he sings the chorus and then the backup singers follow and translate what he just sang.
• Michael Jackson- I guess now we know why he was hard to understand; he was drugged and falling asleep from all of the propofol.

Honestly, I can’t think of any others besides them three right now, but I’m sure there are quite a few more. I guess I probably should have paid a little bit more attention to various songs before I wrote this post.

I don’t know how many of you work in corporate America, but I have for the better part of the past twelve years. One thing that annoys the ever living fucking shit out of me is corporate speak. It seems like everyday is filled with words and phrases only used in the corporate world or at your own company. Now I’m not talking internal jargon for systems that you use, but I mean like the company slogans and phrases and made up departments and job titles. Those of you in the corporate world you know exactly what I’m talking about.

And what is even worse is that while this is primary vocabulary used by management, higher ups, and bigwigs, it manages to funnel it’s way down to the every day worker. Next thing you know, the person next to you is talking like a damn fool because it is how management speaks. And then you can’t go to the bathroom without some dope saying some stupid fucking corporate phrase that would never be spoken by any real person out in the real fucking world. I dunno, maybe it is just me and I’m just a little bit worn out by it or just an anti-corporatist, but I know that I can’t possibly be among a small group of people who hates hearing this bullshit. I know damn well that there are other people out there who think to themselves the same damn thing I think to myself which is “holy fuck, why won’t this person shut the fuck up? Can you just tell me straight up what you are trying to say instead of coating it in a heavy layer of corporatese to make yourself sound important or to kiss fucking ass? Jesus, just be fucking real for a change.”

Then again, management is probably more annoying. I swear in today’s corporate world it’s like the higher up you go, the less of a life outside of work you have and the more you as a person melds into you, a physical part of the corporation. Not only do they have no life outside of work, but they also expect their employees to have no life outside of work. Exfuckingcuse me, but this job is not my life. I give my all when I’m getting paid at work but guess what, the minute I punch out, I’ve mentally checked out and don’t think about work again until I’m back on the clock. I’m not like you. I’m not going to sit there daydreaming of work on the way home. I’m not going to go home and jerk off while thinking of TPS reports, all the while moaning corporate slogans and talk right until I blow my load all over my paycheck. I don’t stand there struggling to brush my teeth with one hand while trying to write down notes for work. I don’t lay in bed at night with a smile on my face and a corporate caused erection in my pants overjoyed at the thought of going to work the next morning. I don’t spend Sunday night’s in a corporate induced extacy at the thought of the week ahead. For me, Fridays are the best day of the week, not the worst day of the week. Then again, for these people, the work week gladly never ends.

No, I don’t hate my job. No I don’t hate work. But, perhaps I just hate THE MAN.  But, if I ever become like that, please promise me you will have me committed.

I don’t know how many of yous have the HBO, but they recently premiered a new half hour, well for lack of a better term, news magazine called Vice. Although you might not be too familiar with the show, those of you who even slightly follow the news might remember a few months ago when NBA hall of famer Dennis Rodman went to North Korea and had a date with Kim Jong Un. Like the rest of the world, you might have asked “what the fuck is Dennis Rodman doing in North Korea and how exactly did he become the only American to meet their tiny dictator Kim Jong Un?” Well it turns out that Vice sent him there for whatever reason.

The show is nothing if not fascinating and interesting and I have learned lots in the six episodes that have aired thus far. The shit they cover are things that normally would not be covered by the mainstream media. Or if it is covered, it wouldn’t be as graphic and free, which is the benefit of HBO. There is just no way that the reports on basic cable or network t.v. will ever use the word fuck the way the Vice reporters use it. Perhaps I’m just a tad bit immature, but I like that they can and do swear; shit after all it is how we speak in everyday life.

The stories though have been totally fucking nuts. It has seriously made me sit back and question “what the fuck is wrong with humanity?” It has also made me really appreciate just how good we have it here in the United States. There were some stories in India that really blew my mind. For example, while we think the gap between the rich and the poor is vast here in America, it is nothing compared to in Mumbai. You have the destitute and desperately poor who are so poor that the only place they can afford to live is at work, sleeping underneath their sowing machines. Could you even imagine that? Literally never leaving work? But with the street conditions in Mumbai, I don’t know if I would want to leave; they don’t have proper plumbing so the sewage runs freely in the streets. Meanwhile, the very rich are VERY FUCKING INSANELY FUCKING RICH. And they like to show it off too. One of the guys who lives in Mumbai is so rich that his home is a 27 story building! Let me be sure you understand, it’s not like out here where you have a rich person who lives in a high rise luxury condo with other rich people. This dude built this building for only he and his family to live in; it is a single family home. Meanwhile just a short ways away people are living on top of each other in their own filth.

Wow, just how upbeat is that? Nevertheless, if you have HBO check the show out if nothing else than to educate yourself on how other parts of the world are living.

My computer has been down so I have been unable to post about, well, anything, not even one of my best weekends ever and for what is probably going to end of being the best weekend of the year. So back we go to Saturday.

Saturday mornings are always great for me since I started taking an improv class at Second City. And what made this Saturday even more special is that we would be performing in a show on Sunday at Second City so everybody was really excited about the show. After class we went out to lunch and while I was there I got a call from my friend Dave about doing our annual tradition of going to bet on the Kentucky Derby. I was a little bit pressed for time though; I had to go from Chicago, back home, get my friend and then go to the OTB in Joliet. Post time for the Derby was about 5:20ish and by the time we got to the packed OTB, it was about 4:40.

After placing our bets, we hung out for a bit until the race. My bet (which would mean nothing to you if you don’t know horse racing) was an exacta box of the 4 and 16 horses, one of them was the favorite Orb and the other was a 35-1 long shot. Early on the in the race I could see my horses were not going to finish so I started rooting for Dave’s horse. Just after the race ended though I saw that the finish was 4 and 16 and I was thinking I would win like $50. We were standing next to a ticket machine and I put my ticket in but it came back out and it said I needed to see an IRS window. So I waited in line and the lady took my ticket put it in the machine and literally threw it back at me and said “you have to see the IRS window. Jim, we have another IRS winner.” After waiting 15 minutes in that other line, I discovered that I won $957!

Sunday night at 6 was the show. I got my friend Don to drive me so that meant I could drink after the show. I already told my classmates that I would buy the first round after the show. We met up at a local bar about 3 o’clock to hang out and grab a bite. As the show drew nearer, I got more excited. The show only wound up being about 25 minutes and although it was still fun, it was not as good as our last show. Afterwards though, I had a great time, throwing money around and buying drinks and food like it was nothing. I bought $48 of drinks at the one bar and tipped the bartender $22 and didn’t care. I think I wound up spending something like $200 that night which is totally not like me and way out of character as usually I’m a total tight ass. But, why not live it up a little, hell I just performed at Second City and had won nearly a grand the night before.

Because I was planning on a late night on Sunday, I had taken the day off work Monday and to make matters even better, I won like $75 on scratch offs.

I have long been a fan of the word fuck and all of it’s various uses. I really love all swear words like asshole and cocksucker and even damn. And I’m a  huge fan of rants and people freaking out. People say the funniest things when they are pissed off, it’s great. And there is about no place better to find a massive rant or freak out than sports. Every now and then you get gems like the Jim Mora freak out in which he is famously saying “playoffs? Don’t talk to me about playoffs!” or the legendary freak out with former Arizona Cardinals head coach Dennis Green ranting about a loss to the Chicago Bears. But my all time great freak out then former Cubs manager Lee Elia’s 1983 profanity laced rant mostly against the Cub fans. Elia used the f-word some 37 times in the three minute rant but he was not limited to fuck, he used all sorts of words. You don’t need to be a baseball fan to fully appreciate this rant, which this past week celebrated it’s 30th anniversary. I remember hearing the censored version probably for the first time when I was about 12 but fortunately we have the internets which allows people to upload the uncensored version which you can hear by clicking on this link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uv23pqH9iG0

Oh freak outs. How fun!

Now I’m going to talk out of my ass here with this issue and by all means I do not have all the facts. But, here I go anyways. Have you all heard about the five year old boy in Kentucky who accidentally shot and killed his two year old sister? Turns out the parents gave him a gun for his birthday. Yes that’s right, they gave a five year old a real gun for his birthday. Okay, I make no secrets about it, I’m strongly for gun reform. But, although giving a five year old a gun as a birthday gift is probably not the best idea, that is not the biggest issue here. The biggest issue is what the fuck type of idiot parent gives the kid a loaded fucking gun? Shit even if they didn’t give the kid the loaded gun, how do they allow for the kid to get his hands on a loaded gun or to get the bullets for the gun?

Now I’m sure the parents are grief stricken over this whole thing. Honestly you have to feel for them; a dead child is tragic regardless of the situation. That being said, the parents should probably be charged with involuntary manslaughter and even if they aren’t they should lose custody of their kids. Normally I’m against government intervention in a parent’s right to raise their children, but honestly you are a severely negligent parent if your five year old is shooting a gun.

But this is the gun obsessed country we live in. The sheriff in the town said it was just “a crazy accident”. No, that’s not a crazy accident. A crazy accident is a clown slipping on some marbles and chipping his tooth. This is irresponsible and dangerous parenting. And yet, we don’t have background checks in the country for guns. Perhaps we need background checks for parenting instead. And while it is not everyday that a five year old shoots a two year old, accidental shootings happen everyday in this country. Not just a few everyday but when you consider that 35,000 people are killed by guns yearly in America, one would have to guess that the number of people injured or killed by accidental shootings on a daily basis has got to be in the hundreds.

And yet, no background checks. What a Goddamn pity.