Gangsta’s Paradise!

August 20, 2009

dollhouse-collage2Now you know I am not one to gossip, ha, but I also realize I haven’t written a blind item in quite sometime…

So John Doe-eyed has this obsession with what our gays lovingly refer to as homothugs — that illustrious cadre of gays who have a swagger, a style, an inflection in their voice all to their own.  They are like the Tupac to the common gay’s I don’t know…  Shakira.   The homothug (if said species truly exists) has a prodigious amount of masculinity, so much so that it oozes out of pores and from the crack of their exposed asses in their baggy jeans!  Dey frem dem grimy streaaaats!

Anyhoo, so, yeah, John likes these kinds of guys and never really heeds the advice/maxims that his friends spew like “thug in the streets, gay-er than gay in the sheets”; “I saw him voguing at…”; or “how you gonna be gay and a thug at the same time?”  But, John, he is so blind and seeks homothugs out with such voracity that looks and personality are secondary to that overall thuggish appeal.

So John had been seeing this Thug for a bit.  John, the old-school broad he is,  actually waits a good two to three dates before he takes Thug up on his offer to see his place.  What should have been John’s first clue that something was askew?  Well, turns out Thug lives in the very very scary and dangerous hood known as D.U.M.B.O.  You know?  Where median price range of  lofts can be  in the upper-millions.  I love me a struggling down-and-dirty gansta!

Unfortunately, John’s second clue wouldn’t be until he actually entered Thug’s apartment that crisp Boyz N Da Hood-esque night.  Once inside, thug leads him into what could only have been described as a shrine — museum if you will — of the most gangsta porcelain dollhouses this side of the Mason-Dixon Line.  In every corner, every nook, every cranny, there was a porcelain-ed replica of some cottage or some intricately designed antebellum mansion fit for a queen of queens.

John said he never made it past the one perched dangerously close to Thug’s vanity just outside the bathroom before he started to feel a little retch surfacing.  Of course, John instantly came down with the “flu” and had to leave.  That’s all sounds as suspicious as Thug’s swag!

File under: if a thug falls in a forest and ruins his new Timbs and no one is around to hear it, did he really have timbs on in the first place?  Put them heels on, girl!  W-E-R-K!


Magic Dragon pt. 2

January 25, 2009

dragon3So this recent movie that came out chronicling the life and times of one of Brooklyn’s most prolific rappers had me thinking not about my love and admiration for my hometown boy (yeah, I got love for him; I am so gangsta, like totally) but got me thinking about my gays and the hip-hop industry.

For years, there has been gossip, exposés  planned, articles written and even a book or two penned discussing the clandestine gay happenings in the misogynistic — and many times openly homophobic — world of hip-hop.

I think it would be silly of us all to think there aren’t well-known hip-hop artists and/or executives who are in fact gay.  I have known for years now that there are said gays who exist.

So let’s call said gay Magic Dragon.  MD is a major major force to be reckoned with and his influence hasn’t just been that of hip-hop glory so he has a mass appeal that’s undeniable.  Trust me, even if you do not follow this type of music, you know him!

I know MD through varying degrees of separation throughout the years. Actually, he is one person in the industry I could never seem to get away from no matter what new project or  job I take.  One or more of those degrees we share make him gayer than a Capri cigarette hanging from a burly set of lips.

So story goes that back in the day he use to be really adamant about not just promoting his up-and-coming artists but promoting what he would dub “male bonding sessions” with certain artists on the roster and members of his recording team and record label.  See “bonding” for MD wasn’t your normal fare of going to a bar, a sportsman-ly game of basketball, or something uninteresting like that.  In fact, he was into what my gays would call circle jerks.  Nope it ain’t a circle of really influential soda jerks either (can soda jerks even be influential?)  CJs are where a group of men get together and squeeze the cannoli, if you know what I mean.  I won’t get anymore graphic because I am a lady… I mean a gentleman.  MD wouldn’t be silly and just ask anyone to join these parties but one or two of the people he did ask weren’t too happy about it and let it spill.

This brings me to yet again to the fact that Wendy Williams isn’t as dumb as she looks.  I am not sure if she ever mentioned MD was gay but I know she doesn’t like him too many and says she has hardcore evidence that one of MD’s former protégés was.  And she would be right as MD and he both use to be the ringleaders and organizers of these circle jerks of fire.  (Wendy, girl, we need to compare notes.  I have been holding a lot of this stuff in for years.)

MD will probably profess to everyone around him that he is secure with his manhood.  And to the untrained eye he is.  He is a “straight man” with beautiful women always in his sights, even public records of infidelity that make him a lady’s man to the media and you, yet all around him are his gays from his fashion designers to his publicists to his assistants.   Actually, I know his personal stylist (who goes with him EVERYWHERE) who is gay, gay, and gayer!  Though I haven’t gotten to know him well enough to see if he could re-confirm the things I know, I get the sense that something is in the air when I converse with him anyway.

I think guys like MD are a new form of DL gay men (especially in the entertainment world) emerging: the closeted man who by all accounts lives a straight life in public but also proclaims to everyone he is so comfortable with his sexuality that he can have hoards of gay men around him.

I think I may be stalked, bruised and then battered  for this entry so I am going to stop here.  If the entries end abruptly after this point please inform the police of this particular entry  and… and… TELL MY MOM I LOVE HER!!! Hahaha…

Magic Dragon pt. 1

January 24, 2009

dragon2So you know how my dissenters will sometimes say I have an overwrought and almost sick need to out celebrities?  Well, if you don’t know now you know!  They’ve been saying it and, yes, more importantly, I have dissenters.  People are actually reading this blog!  I wish they would just have the balls to post their sentiments publicly.  Alas, they don’t!

So to appease them… or displease them rather… this is yet another outing!!!  I was never one to acquiesce.  Let’s call the outing victim Magic Dragon (it will make sense soon).

See, I don’t give names!  It’s not my fault that I have very savvy readers who could decode my thinly veiled blind items in a matter of seconds!  Who knew my readers were so smart!?!?  I for sure didn’t!!!  Now wipe that dribble off your faces, guys, the yellow bus is waiting!

I have to preface this week’s particular outing by writing that I do not get off on outing celebrities — quite the contrary really…  Though I must admit I haven’t had to squeeze the cannoli since I started this blog…  I kid,I kid…

Celebs are America’s royalty.  You have heard that argument before, I gather.  Well, it’s true!  I know, I know, it’s sad but true.  We live for insight into their lives, want to know they put one sock on at a time, want to know they scratch their balls like the rest of us (right, Sis?  Well… Transsssis?!?!)  

We don’t have kings, queens, next-in-lines, castaways but we surely have Brangelina, Tom-Kat and… and… Worrakell.  (That last one was my little ditty or portmanteau [for my advanced degree awardees]!  It’s Kelly Osbourne and her new beau Luke Worrall… I know, I know, you could care less and what’s worse they’re British.  Still I made that up on my own.  Kudos to me! Worrakell.  I like that!  I am contacting the Post… or Star… you know, the reputable rags!)  

Anyhoo, so getting insight into celebs’ personal lives is interesting — especially if it involves some sexual proclivity they aren’t too keen on divulging.  It’s like that uncle you know who dresses in women’s clothing and you are dying to tell his wife and kids at the dinner table during Thanksgiving so you disguise his name (Tony for Toni or something like that) and spill the beans.  Or is that just me?  I guess I am just evil!

Oh yeah… the outing…  I digressed again.  Check the outing in my next entry.  I think it needs its own post and I promise I will get “straight” to the point.  That pun was soooo intended by the way!

Is it just me? Or is it nippy out?

January 10, 2009

nippleSo this is a response I got from someone who was totally offended by my entry regarding timeliness when it comes to telling someone you are dating that you have an un-descended testicle.

As my little bro would say “seriously?!?!”  Answer?  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  Of course, Screennames have been changed to protect the NIPS!

[16:06] TwoHighOneLow: youre kinda harsh on the dude with one nut
[16:06] TwoHighOneLow: or your friend is being a bitch about it
[16:07] francislewis: Yeah, naw, my friend is just a bitch…
[16:07] francislewis: I realized yesterday that I needed a blog to let go of all of the things that float in my head…
[16:08] TwoHighOneLow: i mean i have a third nipple
[16:08] TwoHighOneLow: and sometimes i tell people the first day i meet them
[16:08] TwoHighOneLow: other times i wait years
[16:09] francislewis: Well, I would assume you wouldn’t date someone for years before they would find out!

A “Dorothy” and Oz

January 10, 2009

wizard-of-oz-invitation-smaOK, so I am not one for outing people… Wait… I started another entry just like that!  Shoot, I guess I am one for outing people!

So, friends, what would you do if you are a gay man who pined – and I mean PINED – after some guy on a much-watched show and then you see him out clubbing… at all places… a gay bar?  Well, in my dreams I imagined maybe going up to him and holding a great conversation; possibly falling in love; getting married; maybe co-star in his spin-off show… or… or… I could just have stared and stared, waiting for the thing tugging at my boxer briefs to go away (my floppy pancreas, Rose, my floppy pancreas!!!)

The show is now defunct but said gay is from HBO’s OZ.  By the way, that show must have been the mastermind of some warped fetishist and his recurring wet dreams (sorry, Tom Fontana; you aren’t going to read this shit anyway).  I mean with the gratuitous sexual liaisons, murders, elegant and timeless wardrobe, ha, and the cantankerous roommates (or cellmates…whatever) you’d think you were watching an episode of Melrose Place.  (All I want to know is who would play Heather Locklear?)  That’s not to say I wasn’t completely and utterly obsessed because I was!  I am sure a lot of you were too!

But back to the gays.  So want to know who the Dorothy is?  Let’s just say he played one half of one of the sexiest straight-then-got-arrested-there-is-no-poontang-but-lots-of-time-and-lube-on-their-hands-so-turned-gay jailed duos ever.  So I can hear the gays chanting “which one”?  Let’s just say not the one that’s been on prime-time these days!

I don’t know if it’s a matter of life imitating art or vice versa but said actor was out and proud (you know he wasn’t researching as he has played gay already; what’s left to research).  His tank and jeans seemed painted on and he had definitely been pumping iron since Oz wrapped (ostensibly, at the time, for the new role he was working on for a lesser cable channel).   He was so hot, well, besides the fact that he was all alone, off to the side and gave facial expressions to passerbys that one could only assume were covering a bad case of constipation or just a friendly general grimace.  Still HOT HOT HOT though!

Where does Francislewis get his standards from?  Swear it seems I would do it with Richard Simmons ’cause he has appeared on TV!

File under YUM YUM in my TUM TUM!


January 7, 2009

po-low1So I am not one for outing people – well, unless, they are annoying. This is a story I wanted to tell a while ago but was unable to globally (before I caved to the glorious-ness that is BLOGGING).

So over the summer when I was consulting for those hapless four months, I served as a Marketing Director for one of my fashion clients and a national campaign for their east coast division. One of my duties was to do PR (onsite and off) for a movie premiere they were helping to throw. Well, one of the movie’s stars made me realize that Wendy Williams isn’t quite as dumb as she looks.

So Wendy, she historically had called first party (let’s call him POLO; it will make more sense later) all sorts of things besides…well…um… straight. In my mind, this guy who is well-known for being one of the most successful African-American models and one of Ralph Lauren’s muses tipped off my gaydar the moment he stepped out of his limo and, more so later, when he scoffed at a beautiful reporter and condescendingly told her “who are you?” when she asked him an obvious journalistic question. (Dumb ass, you are on a red carpet at a movie premiere, premiering a movie you co-star in! She has a microphone in her hand; who else could she but a journalist.)

Things were really solidified for me when earlier a man (let’s call him Accomplice 1) came decked out in what seemed a perfect match to what POLO would later arrive in. A1 came to me and another event publicist on hand and said in a voice that screamed ‘I am here, I am queer and I am know Rupert Everett personally’: “Hey, could you help me? I am a good friend of POLO’s and he said I should come to you for my ticket. He is on his way but I wanted to have it in hand just in case.” The way A1 said “good friend” reeked of Imposter Perfume (if you know what I mean), ownership, and made me think they were much more than just “friends.” That coupled with the fact that they were identically dressed and A1 looked an exact physical replica of POLO except for the fact he had lighter skin, left gerber daises, discos, Dave Barton gym memberships, techno music, and Madonna (and you know what that means) all dancing in my head.

So when POLO is doing his interviews, A1 is on the sidelines talking to what I could only assume is POLO’s beard (some girl whom by all appearances he wouldn’t be caught dead with even if he were, in fact, straight) and they are laughing it up like “girlfriends.” Me? I was just waiting for the police officer from the Village People to come and arrest all those with infractions. Just all seemed way to suspicious!

Fittingly enough, POLO and A1 seemed all too googly-eyed with one another during the actual screening – of course, beard right between them wishing and hoping and praying. Wonder how much he’s paying her?!?!

Forget tags, file under HOT MESS (my little homage to Wendy)!


He Promised We Would Have a… Ball!

January 7, 2009

xm-play-ballSo tip #1?  When you are dating someone, getting to know them, it may sound a bit weird but ask them if they have both of their balls (you know, down there, in the nether regions or in one BLIND COPY subject’s case: OH-NO-NOPE- NEVER regions.)

Let’s call first party Accomplice 1 (no relation to previous entry).  So A1 has been seeing this guy for quite some time and they are taking it slow, getting to know one another without doing it in the biblical sense just yet.  So it’s date four and date five and date six and nothing so A1 is thinking the guy he is seeing is either 1.) really into monogamy and wants to take it slow; how cute 2.) way too shy 3.) an ex-Mormon with self-hatred residue still attached 4.) hiding something grisly.  Bingo!  Guess which one it is!?!?

Let’s call Accomplice 2, One Ball Willie (need I write more; I will though).  So they decide it’s time to do the do and well, OBW decides he is going to play a game of find out where the un -descended ball/testicle is.  I know A1 and he isn’t very much into games of this nature so when OBW says “Do you  notice anything different down there?” he must have been horrified!  Poor baby, A1!

I mean I have no problem with abnormalities.  Hell, I have a unusually large… brain…that’s it… brain … but, come on, OBW, let someone know!  I say say it on the first date like “Hi, my name is OBW and I have one ball… Now what movie was it that we are going to see?”

I mean it’s like going to a department store, seeing that shoe on the display, you want it but also know full  well when you decide you are going to buy it, the sales person will have two — yes, two — shoes in the box when you leave.  But, this time, you get home, and lo and behold, Jimmy-CHEWED up the other shoe and there’s just one.  One sad sad sad shoe!

A1, start checking the box before you leave the department store is all I am saying, if you know what I mean.  I am not saying sleep with a guy on the first date but maybe ask if he has had a full physical this year.  If not, might be entree for you two to do the move your head to the side and cough thing!  They wouldn’t know the difference.   It’s either that or next thing you know, it’s three months or more down the road and that’s when you find out the other shoe/ball/whatever has yet to drop!

Wow!  Where does A1 find these blokes?!?!