I don't typically like reposting YouTube videos featured on the website Towleroad, since by the time videos gets featured there, they has been very exposed or you who read my blog have probably already seen it before. This time I am making an exception because:
1) I really liked the video, especially when you consider who the creators are; and
2) Towleroad, and the website they took to original reference from, didn't give the directors proper credit. The video was taken from the original creators' account and reposted on the one of those accounts that collect/compiles lots of gay-themed videos.
Four British 17 year old guys made the music video for I Kissed a Boy and I Liked It (originally by the group Cobra Starship, as a parody to Katee Perry's I Kissed a Girl) as part of a media project at this high school. Knowing that, it's a fucking great video:
An interesting information to know is that those kids are actually straight and although the song and music video are homoerotic, it's from a straight guy's perspective (just like the song writers intended). Listen to the lyrics and you'll realize that it's all about being macho and impressing women. The kissing a guy part is sort of secondary.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Backpacker Culture
Me: “Ya, our hostel in Hobart was right next door to a gay club. Then, in Launceston, the downstairs bar of the hostel was hosting some sort of homo-night.”
Alicia: “Hahaha, wow, Australia must be your gay awakening!”
Me: “Um, ya...well not yet...”
Alicia: “What do you mean?”
---------------
There's an odd balance between the backpacking experience and being gay.
As a backpacker, when you arrive somewhere new, as a complete stranger to the place and people, you meet lots of other travelers from different parts of the world. You’re eager to make friends, talk, hangout and so are they; you’re all in the same boat.
For the most part it’s all amazing. You share your experiences with one-another and also talk about your own little part of the world. Often you poke fun of one-another’s stereotypes: for example the French, Belgians and Swiss love to say how funny and cute the French Canadian accent is when speaking French.
I wanted to makeout with the German on the left.
When it comes to sharing your own experiences though, I only go so far. I hold back the parts of "My ex used to say that all the time. He would..." because people are offput by the idea that your gay. They want to meet new people and have fun, but most often you want to find people that are different in a non-threatening way. Who wants to put effort into challenging their own preconceptions of gay people when they can just ignore the gay person and instead take some shots with the hilarious British guys.
Has this bothered me much? Well, not really....but it's still there.
I've had opportunities to check out a local gay bar, but because I rented a car with some backpackers, I opted to hangout with them instead of walking away and risk explaining to them why they later saw me grinding with some guy. Would I really want to feel the tension of sitting in a car with 3 other people that feel awkard around me? Oh course not. Don't get the wrong, those temporary travel mates were awesome but I knew by their jokes that they weren't going to feel completely as ease with a gay guy.
The Dutch, the Swiss, the Italian
Would my view of this be different if I wasn't traveling alone but instead with a friend from back home? Who knows.
Alicia: “Hahaha, wow, Australia must be your gay awakening!”
Me: “Um, ya...well not yet...”
Alicia: “What do you mean?”
---------------
There's an odd balance between the backpacking experience and being gay.
As a backpacker, when you arrive somewhere new, as a complete stranger to the place and people, you meet lots of other travelers from different parts of the world. You’re eager to make friends, talk, hangout and so are they; you’re all in the same boat.
For the most part it’s all amazing. You share your experiences with one-another and also talk about your own little part of the world. Often you poke fun of one-another’s stereotypes: for example the French, Belgians and Swiss love to say how funny and cute the French Canadian accent is when speaking French.
I wanted to makeout with the German on the left.When it comes to sharing your own experiences though, I only go so far. I hold back the parts of "My ex used to say that all the time. He would..." because people are offput by the idea that your gay. They want to meet new people and have fun, but most often you want to find people that are different in a non-threatening way. Who wants to put effort into challenging their own preconceptions of gay people when they can just ignore the gay person and instead take some shots with the hilarious British guys.
Has this bothered me much? Well, not really....but it's still there.
I've had opportunities to check out a local gay bar, but because I rented a car with some backpackers, I opted to hangout with them instead of walking away and risk explaining to them why they later saw me grinding with some guy. Would I really want to feel the tension of sitting in a car with 3 other people that feel awkard around me? Oh course not. Don't get the wrong, those temporary travel mates were awesome but I knew by their jokes that they weren't going to feel completely as ease with a gay guy.
The Dutch, the Swiss, the ItalianWould my view of this be different if I wasn't traveling alone but instead with a friend from back home? Who knows.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Shocked Awakening
I open my eyes.
Wait, when did I come back to my bed?, I think to myself.
I look over at my clock: 7:40am.
I look around my room in the hostel: everyone's asleep.
I look down at myself: I'm completely naked on my bed.
Oh god, it happened again! Another black-out, when drinking the night before and then waking up on my bed naked!
Just as I started to worry about what I might have done the night before (for god's sake, I'm naked on my bed, sleeping in a room with 6 other people!) a friend walks into my room looking for me. I pull the covers over my waist just in time.
Friend: Get up Jon, we need to catch the ferry! I was wrong, we need to be there fore 8 am, not 11 am.
Without thinking about what she's talking about, I reply:
Okay, I'll be out in a second!
She leaves the room and I start rummaging for clothes.
No time to think about what embarrassing/awkward/amazing things I might have done......God, I hope I didn't freak out the cute German guys I flirting with.
Wait, when did I come back to my bed?, I think to myself.
I look over at my clock: 7:40am.
I look around my room in the hostel: everyone's asleep.
I look down at myself: I'm completely naked on my bed.
Oh god, it happened again! Another black-out, when drinking the night before and then waking up on my bed naked!
Just as I started to worry about what I might have done the night before (for god's sake, I'm naked on my bed, sleeping in a room with 6 other people!) a friend walks into my room looking for me. I pull the covers over my waist just in time.
Friend: Get up Jon, we need to catch the ferry! I was wrong, we need to be there fore 8 am, not 11 am.
Without thinking about what she's talking about, I reply:
Okay, I'll be out in a second!
She leaves the room and I start rummaging for clothes.
No time to think about what embarrassing/awkward/amazing things I might have done......God, I hope I didn't freak out the cute German guys I flirting with.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Goodbye Canada
One week ago I left Canada for Australia.
In my last week of canadian-hood, I was running around trying to see my friends as much as possible. The theory was that if we saw each other enough, we'd get sick of one-another, therefore making my continental absence for 10 months okay a little less noticeable. It didn't work - seeing so many people over such a short period made me want to hangout even more.
Tim, Mike, Xav, Liz, Kieran each got their individual moments with me. In each respective case, we just hung out their apartments. It was great.
I also had a party downtown, with over 30 friends and acquaintances showing up. The night was amazing, albeit my memory is disappointingly fuzzy. Everyone was feeding me drinks, so my brain sort of cut out around 1am. I do have a great image of sitting in a taxi, with Mike and Mike's Girlfriend of either of my sides, with Mike's Girlfriend holding her purse open in front of me saying:
"Ìf you need to puke, just do it in my purse."
She's a definitely a keeper.
Alicia and I confirmed the details of my arrival in Sydney. I'll be staying with her for a bit, and probably intermittently, while I'm in Australia. We're both incredibly excited to hangout together, as we used to do back when she lived in Montreal.
My last full day in this city was spent at home with family. We didn't do anything, but talk and hangout. Mom and Dad were mostly reminiscing of when they had gone on long trips. For my Dad, it's when he left England to attend grad school in Canada. He accentuated how he never actually went back home. My Mom spoke about he backpacking trips in Europe. She insisted, while holding back some tears in her eyes, that we needed to stay in touch otherwise she feels like we would lose the closeness we had developed since I moved back home.
They both agreed that it's going to very different at home, without me.
The morning of my flight, they both brought me to the airport and waited with me as I got the tickets and checked my bags. They walked me to the customs door, where only people boarding flgiths could continue. We hugged. I looked my Mom in the eyes and she started crying. I don't consider my self a crier, well not at least infront of others, but I started crying too.
Then I walked away and tried not to be sad - since I'm starting an amazing experience. It somewhat worked.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
No One Actually Takes Baths There
Let me start off this experience with a preface: bathhouses in general creep me out. Random sex with strangers, no knowledge at all about the STD status of partners and just the whole unreal environment of public sex is definitely not for me. In Montreal, there are 20-30 bathhouses. They mostly cater to "straight" tourists who come here to cheat on their wives and then go home, although there's obviously a big "out-gay" presence there. An acquaintance that works for the CLSC in the Gay Village says that half the people who test positive for an STD and whom also openly self-identify as being gay/queer say they go to bathhouses. (CLSC is a government-run public health clinic that does a lot of things, including free STD tests)
So, a few weeks ago I went to a bathhouse.
The subject of bathhouses came up in a conversation with Guy-I'm-dating; he wondered if I had ever gone to one. My answer was no, since random hook-ups with strangers is not my thing - that and STDs ain't my cup of tea. Knowing me, he was amazed that I had never even ventured into one to see the wacky world that's held inside. If I like to speak past security guards to illegally explore industrial buildings, how could I not just pay 5 bucks to see what's going on in a bathhouse?
From that, he decided we were going to a bathhouse in Quebec City. It took him a while to sell me on the idea, but I eventually caved. We weren't going there to fool around with anyone or even each other, it was just so that I knew what went on inside those walls. He also wasn't hoping to push me into anything beyond that, since I know he's also pretty nervous of unsafe sex and diseases.
If you've ever seen adds for bathhouses, they're all pretty much along the lines of the above pic: the hot, young dude in a towel. I love them because I like to pretend that some people genuinely believe that bathhouse patrons look like that. I, on the other hand, am not tricked so easily. In fact, I can now confirm it's nothing like that.
We walked into the bathhouse around 11pm. The cashier said a few sentences in French, then immediately switched to perfect English when he realized that our accents were from out of town. Hearing perfect English (or English at all) in Quebec City is rare, unless it's a business aimed at tourists. Stereotype confirmed: bathhouses are for people from out of town.
Guy-I'm-dating took the lead in exploring, since he had been in bathhouses before and clearly sensed I was uncomfortable. Straight from the start, an older guy was following us. As we both changed in the lockeroom, he quasi-watched us from around the corner, while masturbating himself. As we checked out the 3 levels of the building, he followed us. We sat in the dry sauna for a bit; the guy felt the need to hangout there too, though he seemed to cut out the masturbating a bit...but not giving up completely.
I thought it was creepy, but at the same time I knew this was all sort of normal for a bathhouse (damn you Queer As Folk!). People play the subtle game of trading glances before hooking up with one-another. They follow one-another, play hard-to-get, and get comfortable that way before hooking up - it's just the way it is.
I felt a little bad for the guy though. It's not because he's was in a bathhouse, but instead because he never had a chance with Guy-I'm-dating or myself that night. Oh, we're such [unintentional] teases! We weren't there for fooling around, but even if we were we'd probably want to do the deed with someone close to our age, skinny and good-looking, as opposed to some fat, ugly guy who's the same age as my dad. He wasn't the only guy who fell into that category though. From my perspective, everyone there was old, out of shape and ugly. Stereotyped confirmed: bathhouses are filled with older, not-so-pretty men.
After 20 minutes of refusing eye contact and ignoring him, he gave up. We found his "brother" in the wet sauna, whispering weird things to us although we didn't stick around enough to really understand. Instead, we hung out in the jacuzzi for 20 minutes and watched the strangers walk by. Oh, and made out a bit.
The clientele aside, the bathhouse itself was actually really nice and clean. It was surprisingly huge and empty, which means we probably just came on an off-night. I had assumed that the place would be dirty and the floors would be covered in mysterious liquids, but it was nothing like that. It felt like some sort of spa...with naked men having sex. Stereotype unconfirmed: bathhouses are not dirty.
We were both starving after our short stay, so we changed back and the lockers an headed to the lobby. The cashier seemed happy to see us again, but a little down that we were leaving so soon. I think he has been hoping for a show.
So, a few weeks ago I went to a bathhouse.
The subject of bathhouses came up in a conversation with Guy-I'm-dating; he wondered if I had ever gone to one. My answer was no, since random hook-ups with strangers is not my thing - that and STDs ain't my cup of tea. Knowing me, he was amazed that I had never even ventured into one to see the wacky world that's held inside. If I like to speak past security guards to illegally explore industrial buildings, how could I not just pay 5 bucks to see what's going on in a bathhouse?
From that, he decided we were going to a bathhouse in Quebec City. It took him a while to sell me on the idea, but I eventually caved. We weren't going there to fool around with anyone or even each other, it was just so that I knew what went on inside those walls. He also wasn't hoping to push me into anything beyond that, since I know he's also pretty nervous of unsafe sex and diseases.
If you've ever seen adds for bathhouses, they're all pretty much along the lines of the above pic: the hot, young dude in a towel. I love them because I like to pretend that some people genuinely believe that bathhouse patrons look like that. I, on the other hand, am not tricked so easily. In fact, I can now confirm it's nothing like that.
We walked into the bathhouse around 11pm. The cashier said a few sentences in French, then immediately switched to perfect English when he realized that our accents were from out of town. Hearing perfect English (or English at all) in Quebec City is rare, unless it's a business aimed at tourists. Stereotype confirmed: bathhouses are for people from out of town.
Guy-I'm-dating took the lead in exploring, since he had been in bathhouses before and clearly sensed I was uncomfortable. Straight from the start, an older guy was following us. As we both changed in the lockeroom, he quasi-watched us from around the corner, while masturbating himself. As we checked out the 3 levels of the building, he followed us. We sat in the dry sauna for a bit; the guy felt the need to hangout there too, though he seemed to cut out the masturbating a bit...but not giving up completely.
I thought it was creepy, but at the same time I knew this was all sort of normal for a bathhouse (damn you Queer As Folk!). People play the subtle game of trading glances before hooking up with one-another. They follow one-another, play hard-to-get, and get comfortable that way before hooking up - it's just the way it is.
I felt a little bad for the guy though. It's not because he's was in a bathhouse, but instead because he never had a chance with Guy-I'm-dating or myself that night. Oh, we're such [unintentional] teases! We weren't there for fooling around, but even if we were we'd probably want to do the deed with someone close to our age, skinny and good-looking, as opposed to some fat, ugly guy who's the same age as my dad. He wasn't the only guy who fell into that category though. From my perspective, everyone there was old, out of shape and ugly. Stereotyped confirmed: bathhouses are filled with older, not-so-pretty men.
After 20 minutes of refusing eye contact and ignoring him, he gave up. We found his "brother" in the wet sauna, whispering weird things to us although we didn't stick around enough to really understand. Instead, we hung out in the jacuzzi for 20 minutes and watched the strangers walk by. Oh, and made out a bit.
The clientele aside, the bathhouse itself was actually really nice and clean. It was surprisingly huge and empty, which means we probably just came on an off-night. I had assumed that the place would be dirty and the floors would be covered in mysterious liquids, but it was nothing like that. It felt like some sort of spa...with naked men having sex. Stereotype unconfirmed: bathhouses are not dirty.
We were both starving after our short stay, so we changed back and the lockers an headed to the lobby. The cashier seemed happy to see us again, but a little down that we were leaving so soon. I think he has been hoping for a show.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Last Minute Relationship
As you might be able to tell from my last post, I've accidentally started dating a guy. Funny how these things develop at the least opportune times, eh? I'm leaving for Australia in 14 days and yet I've already hit the mental stage of needing to consciously refrain from mentioning the guy-I'm-dating's name in every conversation topic with friends, regardless how unrelated it is, just because it makes me feel all giddy and gooey inside. Yup, I'm the most annoying type of friend-who's-just-begun-seeing-someone.
It just goes to show how making some new gay friends can be very helpful for meeting interesting guys.
I'm surprised by how well the last 3 weeks have gone. He likes mocking everything, including himself. I like mocking everything, including him...oh and me too. I'm not typically a physical touchy-feely type of person, but when we're not around others I just love to constantly have one hand on his arm, leg, back or...um, *throat clearing*...or parts... I'm going arbitrarily say that it's his Frenchness that brings it out all this cuddling. He also gets along great with my friends, and on his own, - so there's no need watch over him when we're in a big group.
Earlier this week I was in Quebec City with him, for his school. He has 2 days of school there per week, but spends every other day in Montreal with his friends and I. It's an odd routine from my stand-point, but hey, I like it. While he was in class, I explored the old city and worked a bit. Oh the perks of just picking up my laptop and working from where-ever I want.
That being said, it's not like I did much work. I mostly explored during the day and spent time with him at night.
Oh, and I mocked his gay magazine collection a lot.
He has known since the start that I'm leaving for Australia. I've held it in the back of my mind too, as a reminder to not fall too much for him and just keep it light-hearted fun. He'll be in Canada when I get back next fall/winter, so we already know we'll meet up again. No promises of anything beyond that though, which we're both happy with.
It just goes to show how making some new gay friends can be very helpful for meeting interesting guys.
I'm surprised by how well the last 3 weeks have gone. He likes mocking everything, including himself. I like mocking everything, including him...oh and me too. I'm not typically a physical touchy-feely type of person, but when we're not around others I just love to constantly have one hand on his arm, leg, back or...um, *throat clearing*...or parts... I'm going arbitrarily say that it's his Frenchness that brings it out all this cuddling. He also gets along great with my friends, and on his own, - so there's no need watch over him when we're in a big group.
Earlier this week I was in Quebec City with him, for his school. He has 2 days of school there per week, but spends every other day in Montreal with his friends and I. It's an odd routine from my stand-point, but hey, I like it. While he was in class, I explored the old city and worked a bit. Oh the perks of just picking up my laptop and working from where-ever I want.
That being said, it's not like I did much work. I mostly explored during the day and spent time with him at night.
Oh, and I mocked his gay magazine collection a lot.
He has known since the start that I'm leaving for Australia. I've held it in the back of my mind too, as a reminder to not fall too much for him and just keep it light-hearted fun. He'll be in Canada when I get back next fall/winter, so we already know we'll meet up again. No promises of anything beyond that though, which we're both happy with.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Bisous
Him: You think too much.
Me: Ya, I know...
Him: It's not good for you. Just go with it.
I laugh awkwardly - it seems to be turning into my standard response when I don't know what to say. He's caught onto that pretty quickly.
Him: I never feel shameful. There's no point; why should I care about what other people think?
I smile.
Me: Ya, I noticed that...something about you shoving me into your bedroom without warning and all my friends going silent from the hilariousness of it all.
He keeps staring at me. He quickly looks down at my lips then back at my eyes.
So we kiss in the bar.
Him: Bisou?
Me: Bisou.
We kiss some more.
I wish I could show you the hilarious awkward look we're giving one-another.
Me: Ya, I know...
Him: It's not good for you. Just go with it.
I laugh awkwardly - it seems to be turning into my standard response when I don't know what to say. He's caught onto that pretty quickly.
Him: I never feel shameful. There's no point; why should I care about what other people think?
I smile.
Me: Ya, I noticed that...something about you shoving me into your bedroom without warning and all my friends going silent from the hilariousness of it all.
He keeps staring at me. He quickly looks down at my lips then back at my eyes.
So we kiss in the bar.
Him: Bisou?
Me: Bisou.
We kiss some more.
I wish I could show you the hilarious awkward look we're giving one-another.Thursday, December 24, 2009
Bachelor Party
Two friends of mine tied the knot this past fall. They are the first people I've known to get married. I'm betting they also not the last, since my general groups of friends are reaching the age when the weddings will be exploding from left-right-and-center.
I've never before been invited/attended a wedding. Oh god, it was fun. But more importantly for this post, I had never attended a bachelor party.
Leading up to the bachelor party, I couldn't help but think of the circumstances: parties like this are the stereotypical stag night where all the straight-guy friends of the groom come together and bond over their macho-ness and the groom's last night of freedom, typically by getting drunk and hitting up the strip clubs. They're a group of loud, annoying guys who walk up and down the popular bar/clubs streets, making as much noise as possible and being the biggest douches known to man. And this night, I was gonna be part of that group!
It didn't bother me at all being the only gay guy there - like with everything else I do, I rarely feel out of place in straight environments. I did however make a bit of a slip-up when I first met the bachelor group at the restaurant. I didn't do a good job of censoring my first thought to the group:
Wow, 20 guys hanging out all night. This is like the gayest thing ever.
Ten of their faces gave an awkward expression. I did my best to save the situation:
Oh wait, wrong crowd to say this stuff around...wrong crowd...
As we left the restaurant I found myself being a sort of leader for everyone, picking out the bars where we'd rush in, take a shot, then skip out to the next place. The best man didn't really know where to go, so he didn't seem to mind. I had a good time chatting with the guys. I had met most of them before, at one time or another. I found myself sort of focusing my attention on one of the guys who clearly was high and a little tipsy early into the evening. He has these naturally light grey eyes, black hair and super white skin...which made me consciously compare him to a zombie... a hot zombie.....no, I have no idea why.
zombie dude
As part of the evening, the gang had created a list of dumb things that the groom had to do over the course of the night, take a body shot off someone or get a girl to spank you. I liked my addition to the list: show a random woman your penis. Unfortunately, the groom did not seem to appreciate my creativity.
As the night progressed, we stopped off a one last bar before heading to the strip club. As usual, I got a bunch of pitchers and shots for everyone. I was pretty happy at that point - drunk happy. On my way back from the bathroom, I ran into a guy I went to highschool with. He was clearly in the same alcohol-induced happiness as me.
Guy: Holy shit, Thomas! How've you been!
Me: Heeyyy [Guy]! I'm doing great! I'm out here with a bunch of guys for my friend's bachelor party! We're stopping off here before the strip club.
Guy: Oh cool! The one around the corner?
Me: Ya
Guy: I hear that if you give a stripper $300 bucks she'll give you head!
I was a little surprised that he would say that, because to me the "I hear that if..." part actually means "I once payed 300$ for a stripper to give me head". Lucky for me, I'd oddly good at hiding shock and coming up with quick responses when I'm drinking. So I made up this doosy:
Me: Really? I'm thought it was $150?
That response blew his mind. I'm pretty sure he went home that night convinced that I go to strippers for blow jobs, just like I'm now convinced he does the same.
Soon the last part of the night began: the strip club. I have to admit that I was REALLY EXCITED to go to the strip club. Only a small part of my enthusiasm was because of the drinks: on a few other random occasions I had petitioned my friends to go to one but they always "didn't feel like it" or were "morally opposed" to going. From my perspective, I thought it was going to be so hilarious seeing naked women everywhere and overly excited guys. I was not disappointed. It was almost completely packed, with groups of guys all talking and having a good time. There were women on stage and others walking around, offering dances. Some of the guys from our bachelor group banded together to reserve a private booth, overlooking the whole floor.
I spent most of the time laughing at the completely fantastical nature of the strip club: completely naked women rubbing themselves all over guys; the intense focus some of the guys showed when they got their lap dances; the amount of ass and tit grabbing. I was definitely more excited than some of the straight guys in our party.
Toward the end, I was so drunk that I decided to make one of the dumbest mistakes you can do in a strip club: take a picture. I pulled my camera out of my pocket, and coyly put it down at my hip, out of view. I turned the flash off, and slowly listed it over my leg and took the photo of a stripper straddling on of the guys in my group.
So now I have the above blurry picture of a stripper, and a blurry picture of some other stripper's vagina, which I'm obviously not posting.
.....Sweet.....
(Argh, it was so stupid - although executed really well. No one noticed, since I clearly still have all my front teeth and didn't get the shit beaten out of me by a bouncer.)
The vag-shot aside, I can;t wait for future bachelor parties.
I've never before been invited/attended a wedding. Oh god, it was fun. But more importantly for this post, I had never attended a bachelor party.
Leading up to the bachelor party, I couldn't help but think of the circumstances: parties like this are the stereotypical stag night where all the straight-guy friends of the groom come together and bond over their macho-ness and the groom's last night of freedom, typically by getting drunk and hitting up the strip clubs. They're a group of loud, annoying guys who walk up and down the popular bar/clubs streets, making as much noise as possible and being the biggest douches known to man. And this night, I was gonna be part of that group!
It didn't bother me at all being the only gay guy there - like with everything else I do, I rarely feel out of place in straight environments. I did however make a bit of a slip-up when I first met the bachelor group at the restaurant. I didn't do a good job of censoring my first thought to the group:
Wow, 20 guys hanging out all night. This is like the gayest thing ever.
Ten of their faces gave an awkward expression. I did my best to save the situation:
Oh wait, wrong crowd to say this stuff around...wrong crowd...
As we left the restaurant I found myself being a sort of leader for everyone, picking out the bars where we'd rush in, take a shot, then skip out to the next place. The best man didn't really know where to go, so he didn't seem to mind. I had a good time chatting with the guys. I had met most of them before, at one time or another. I found myself sort of focusing my attention on one of the guys who clearly was high and a little tipsy early into the evening. He has these naturally light grey eyes, black hair and super white skin...which made me consciously compare him to a zombie... a hot zombie.....no, I have no idea why.
zombie dudeAs part of the evening, the gang had created a list of dumb things that the groom had to do over the course of the night, take a body shot off someone or get a girl to spank you. I liked my addition to the list: show a random woman your penis. Unfortunately, the groom did not seem to appreciate my creativity.
As the night progressed, we stopped off a one last bar before heading to the strip club. As usual, I got a bunch of pitchers and shots for everyone. I was pretty happy at that point - drunk happy. On my way back from the bathroom, I ran into a guy I went to highschool with. He was clearly in the same alcohol-induced happiness as me.
Guy: Holy shit, Thomas! How've you been!
Me: Heeyyy [Guy]! I'm doing great! I'm out here with a bunch of guys for my friend's bachelor party! We're stopping off here before the strip club.
Guy: Oh cool! The one around the corner?
Me: Ya
Guy: I hear that if you give a stripper $300 bucks she'll give you head!
I was a little surprised that he would say that, because to me the "I hear that if..." part actually means "I once payed 300$ for a stripper to give me head". Lucky for me, I'd oddly good at hiding shock and coming up with quick responses when I'm drinking. So I made up this doosy:
Me: Really? I'm thought it was $150?
That response blew his mind. I'm pretty sure he went home that night convinced that I go to strippers for blow jobs, just like I'm now convinced he does the same.
Soon the last part of the night began: the strip club. I have to admit that I was REALLY EXCITED to go to the strip club. Only a small part of my enthusiasm was because of the drinks: on a few other random occasions I had petitioned my friends to go to one but they always "didn't feel like it" or were "morally opposed" to going. From my perspective, I thought it was going to be so hilarious seeing naked women everywhere and overly excited guys. I was not disappointed. It was almost completely packed, with groups of guys all talking and having a good time. There were women on stage and others walking around, offering dances. Some of the guys from our bachelor group banded together to reserve a private booth, overlooking the whole floor.
I spent most of the time laughing at the completely fantastical nature of the strip club: completely naked women rubbing themselves all over guys; the intense focus some of the guys showed when they got their lap dances; the amount of ass and tit grabbing. I was definitely more excited than some of the straight guys in our party.
Toward the end, I was so drunk that I decided to make one of the dumbest mistakes you can do in a strip club: take a picture. I pulled my camera out of my pocket, and coyly put it down at my hip, out of view. I turned the flash off, and slowly listed it over my leg and took the photo of a stripper straddling on of the guys in my group.
So now I have the above blurry picture of a stripper, and a blurry picture of some other stripper's vagina, which I'm obviously not posting.
.....Sweet.....
(Argh, it was so stupid - although executed really well. No one noticed, since I clearly still have all my front teeth and didn't get the shit beaten out of me by a bouncer.)
The vag-shot aside, I can;t wait for future bachelor parties.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
ETA 1.5 Months
Over the last 4 months, the local government of Montreal posted up adds all over the city for...living in the city. They seem to want people to stay in Montreal, as opposed to moving away. I don't really understand the point of the adds, since the city is definitely not suffering from a falling population. We are the second biggest city in Canada after all - if anything we're only getting bigger.
Quitter Montreal, mais pour aller òu? - Leaving Montreal, but to go where?
In my Not Dead Yet return post, I said I had some big news. Here it is: at the end of January/beginning of February, I will be experiencing a change of environment. It won't be permanent, but I definitely won't be back in Montreal, or Canada, for at least 9 months. In fact, I'm traveling to the opposite side of the Earth.
Where am I going? Australia.
Tired of not having some big goal to look forward too, I decide to head to that other former British colony. My 1-year visa has already been issued and I'm now in the process of deciding my exact plans whilst there. Alicia lives just outside of Sydney, so that will be my first landing point. It'll be amazing to see her again in person. From there, I'm not sure if I'll simply rent a place around Sydney, or if I'll travel around for a bit before settling. Two other options are that I'll stick to some quasi-nomadic routine of moving around every few weeks or I'll use Alicia as a home base and travel back and forth from there.
My job is following me to Australia too, although my boss already knows I'll only work periodically. While I've saved tons of money from living at home with my parents, this'll guarantee that I still make some money while away.
With me being less at work and out doing fun things, I assume that activity of this blog will go up. I've also been thinking I might need to change the banner to something more appropriate...like me riding a emu? Or how about this picture representing my Canadian invasion?
Hmm, maybe I'll have to find something else...
My friends' reactions to my plans is mostly joy and excitement. Alicia can't wait to have a North American visitor from her old life. Xav, Kieran and Liz are really happy for me. My plans seem to have triggered Tim into wanting a change as well, so he announced he's moving to Vancouver this summer (while I'm gone) with his girlfriend. Mike's reaction seems to be the exception: he's freaked out because he'll be losing me and later on Tim, the two main/close guy friends he has.
I stared off my post talking about the advertisements because I like to imagine that the city of Montreal posted up those Don't Leave Us adds just for me, as a last ditch effort to get me to stay. They really did coincide perfectly with the initiation of my plan. Seems that I'll unfortunately have to write a letter to the city saying I'm sorry my fair lady but I'm still leaving.
She shouldn't worry though, I'll be back to continue our love affair - though I do expect a whole bunch of Thank God You're Fucking Back posters.
Quitter Montreal, mais pour aller òu? - Leaving Montreal, but to go where?In my Not Dead Yet return post, I said I had some big news. Here it is: at the end of January/beginning of February, I will be experiencing a change of environment. It won't be permanent, but I definitely won't be back in Montreal, or Canada, for at least 9 months. In fact, I'm traveling to the opposite side of the Earth.
Where am I going? Australia.
Tired of not having some big goal to look forward too, I decide to head to that other former British colony. My 1-year visa has already been issued and I'm now in the process of deciding my exact plans whilst there. Alicia lives just outside of Sydney, so that will be my first landing point. It'll be amazing to see her again in person. From there, I'm not sure if I'll simply rent a place around Sydney, or if I'll travel around for a bit before settling. Two other options are that I'll stick to some quasi-nomadic routine of moving around every few weeks or I'll use Alicia as a home base and travel back and forth from there.
My job is following me to Australia too, although my boss already knows I'll only work periodically. While I've saved tons of money from living at home with my parents, this'll guarantee that I still make some money while away.
With me being less at work and out doing fun things, I assume that activity of this blog will go up. I've also been thinking I might need to change the banner to something more appropriate...like me riding a emu? Or how about this picture representing my Canadian invasion?
Hmm, maybe I'll have to find something else...
My friends' reactions to my plans is mostly joy and excitement. Alicia can't wait to have a North American visitor from her old life. Xav, Kieran and Liz are really happy for me. My plans seem to have triggered Tim into wanting a change as well, so he announced he's moving to Vancouver this summer (while I'm gone) with his girlfriend. Mike's reaction seems to be the exception: he's freaked out because he'll be losing me and later on Tim, the two main/close guy friends he has.
I stared off my post talking about the advertisements because I like to imagine that the city of Montreal posted up those Don't Leave Us adds just for me, as a last ditch effort to get me to stay. They really did coincide perfectly with the initiation of my plan. Seems that I'll unfortunately have to write a letter to the city saying I'm sorry my fair lady but I'm still leaving.
She shouldn't worry though, I'll be back to continue our love affair - though I do expect a whole bunch of Thank God You're Fucking Back posters.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Not Dead Yet
No-no, I'm not dead.
And no-no, the blog's not dead either.
I've been really busy at work. Unfortunately as time at work (at the computer) increases, my willingness to be in front of a computer when not working decreases. Sorry internet blog!
But things will change soon - oh, how they will change. I won't elaborate in this post, but I'll let you guys know real soon. I think I might even need to change my banner...
Over the last ~3 months I've written down a nice, fun list of things I need to blog about. Hehehe, plenty of good moments to write about as I play catch-up.
My blogging absence has gotten a bunch of you readers, in particular ones I did not know existed, to message me. I really appreciate the feedback and it's always an amazing encouragement to hear that someone enjoys reading all my crap! Thank you Same-Old-Faces and New Ones.
And no-no, the blog's not dead either.
I've been really busy at work. Unfortunately as time at work (at the computer) increases, my willingness to be in front of a computer when not working decreases. Sorry internet blog!
But things will change soon - oh, how they will change. I won't elaborate in this post, but I'll let you guys know real soon. I think I might even need to change my banner...
Over the last ~3 months I've written down a nice, fun list of things I need to blog about. Hehehe, plenty of good moments to write about as I play catch-up.
My blogging absence has gotten a bunch of you readers, in particular ones I did not know existed, to message me. I really appreciate the feedback and it's always an amazing encouragement to hear that someone enjoys reading all my crap! Thank you Same-Old-Faces and New Ones.
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