“Walk a Mile in My Pradas” — A Movie Review

Hey! Looking for a new holiday movie? Looking for a *gay* holiday movie? I mean they’re a rare treat to find.

Well if you are, then PLEASE do NOT see—for your own sake—“Walk a Mile in My Pradas.”

Oh, dear what a horrible film, and on so many levels. I can forgive the low budget. So many “gay” movies have a low budget. But this movie? Well, it bordered on downright offensive.

I mean the acting—and it really can’t be called acting—was terrible. But I will get back to that….

So let’s skip the acting. Let’s say the writer was helping his friends and wanted to make this film and they all stepped in and did the job for free, including Dee Wallace and Tom Arnold (both who are very competent actors and who sucked in this movie). Let’s go on to that script. 

Advertisements

SO EVERYTHING IS GOOD! REALLY GOOD!

I met the doctor and found out everyone I talked to that he is the best of the best. Everyone said so! That was good. Then he asked if he could do the situation with a robot and told me why. I was excited and got nervous when I found out he’d only “done” it 150 times with one. But I was given a choice, and he admitted that he worked part time for the robot company and they wanted as many patients as possible to prove how much better they were, and I was nervous but come on! ROBOTS! How freaking cool is that?

The whole experience was bizarre. I was a little more awake this time. And OMG…I *felt* in my heart. I don’t think they believed me at first until I said, “…now…”and”…yeah, right *there…*” and they were impressed because it was more than the pain, and there was some, but I FELT it! It was a sort of…undulation. So, it’s robots and now, what? Chest bursters?

Anyway, not chest bursters. And the one really scary thing, that two percent of patients die getting an angioplasty. That’s a small percentage, but

SO HERE IS WHAT IS GOING ON…..

I woke up about 11:00 pm last night in considerable chest pain. I was worried I knew just what it was and tried to will the pain away. I took aspirin. It lasted about 5 minutes and then thankfully, it went away. I convinced myself it was heartburn.

But then I woke at 3:00 am and it was much worse and I knew. Got my bears up and they took me to St. Luke’s, which is only minutes away. The pain was really bad by then, I mean really bad, and only got worse and worse.

We got here and I needed help just to walk and it was a baffling journey to the ER. You would think it would be the easiest place in the building(s) to get to. We had to go though confusing sets of doors and take an elevator. To the Emergency Room!

FURRY FRIDAY: Doctors, Nurses and Other Medical Men

So, in honor of me being stuck in the hospital—and surviving a heart attack!!—this Furry Friday is for all those sexy, beautiful, bearded medical professionals. Most of these are real too, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there is at least one model or actor who has “slipped in” there. But hey! This is all about the fantasy anyway, right? So open up and say….Awwwwww…!  

So…. Guess Where l Am and What I Did Last Night?

I am at Saint Luke’s Hospital. At about 3:00 am this morning I had a heart attack. It is around 6:00 am now and I already have my stents in. Wow! Has technology changed since 1998 when I had my first heart attack.

My two biggest complaints?

1) All female nurses (even though they’ve all been sweet) and not one studly orderly amongst the group. The things I must endure.

2) This hospital gown! My GAWD! It’s hideous! I wouldn’t be caught dead in this. No gold lamé. No chiffon. No taffeta. What has the world come to?

The good? That I have the love of two wonderful men taking care of me. I mean…. Wow.

Updates to follow.

Daddy Bear is tired.

A Loving Look Back at the Early ACT UP Heroes of the AIDS Epidemic

Tonight’s re-blog comes from this Queerty article posted earlier today, Dec 12th, 2018. I thought it was pretty powerful and very worth showing you….

PHOTOS: A Loving Look Back at the Early ACT UP Heroes of the AIDS Epidemic

By David Toussaint

In his new photo book, The AIDS Activist Project Bill Bytsura showcases 18 activists from around the globe, photographed over two decades, and including members of ACT UP (The AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) chapters from the United States and Europe.

“The AIDS Activist Project is a memorial to the brave men and women who struggled and died while fighting the epidemic and government neglect,” Bytsura told Queerty. “But this book is also a renewed call to action because the AIDS epidemic is not over. Infection rates are rising again, and the Trump Administration, like Reagan and Bush, is ignoring the dangers.”

Here are ten extraordinarily powerful photos from the book that will take you back to a time when treatment for HIV was in its infancy, when there was no PrEP to prevent its spread, and when death was commonplace–as was the courage to face it down.

World AIDS Day: HIV/AIDS and Me

I came out the second and true time in roughly 1990. I was thirty. This was after realizing as much as I loved the mother of my child, that being gay was a lot more that liking sex with men. It meant LOVING men. It meant that I came to see that if I was paralyzed below the neck and could never have sex again, I would still want any romantic partner I had to be a man. That the very concepts of coming home from work to a man and waking up with a man on the other side of the bed was more than something I *liked* … it was something I *needed.*

It was the shock of hearing something that hit me to the bone—a good shock. She said she hated the word homosexual because it said that all glbt people were, were sexual. And that she liked the word homoemotional. It was world changing for me. I cried. A good kind of cry. Because I saw the truth. You can be homosexual from birth, but you aren’t gay until you are proud of who you are. And I am proud of who I am.

Coming out was wonderful. Embracing who I really am was BEYOND wonderful. But it came with a few shocks. That gay cancer rumors? The disease they were calling GRID (Gay-related immune deficiency)? Holy f*ck…. It wasn’t a rumor.

It was real.

And the gay friends I was making? They were dying. Almost as fast as I could make them.