Stuff That Makes A Gay Heart Weep

Scary Ebay Items

Shopping With Granny

Better hit the liquor aisle first!

 

 

Wasting Money On Products Your Pets Hate

 

 

Thuggies

What in hoodie hell????

 

Dangerous Thuggie gang. Don't fuck with them. They'll try to chase down you in their Thuggie gowns.

 

 

THE IKEA-YEAR ITCH

"Sweetie, I promise; after we people-watch - and I finish my lingonberry martini - Mommy will pick you up a nice Lewenhaupt on the way out."
"But Mom, will it match my Hastfer-Bielke?"

 

 

 

Benjamin Kissell

 

What makes a gay heart weep like the insanity brought on by cheaply-made/vastly-reduced Swedish furniture and the nutcases it attracts? I don't know, but, let's NOT fill me in, okay? I've seen enough to last several lifetimes.

 

[Just because your tee sports the Gold's Gym name and logo front and center, it doesn't automatically make you skinny. Especially when it's at least 2 sizes too small. A muffin-top isn't thin, even when you call it low-cal.]

 

My friends John and Mike - an adorable couple who nearly give me diabetes they're so sweetly cute together [seriously, if I ever get half as happy in a relationship as they are? I've done it right] - asked me to meet them  [read: bribed me with lunch] at IKEA while they bought a few things.

 

After getting lost trusting GoogleMaps AND the friggin' signs [seriously, how shittily must you label your roads Northern VA?] I went with my gut and classic Ooh-I-sorta-recognize-these-landmarks to make it there.

 

[You'd think I couldn't get lost taking the straight-shot to a GINORMOUS mall and IKEA; you'd also think I wasn't screaming at every assclap on the road, but, then, you'd be wrong.]

 

Despite getting lost, I beat the boys there - how the hell? - and waited for them in the everything-lingonberry cafeteria. And despite my sitting ASFARAWAYFROMEVERYONEASFUCKINGPOSSIBLE I was quickly surrounded by cheerful families and bitterly nursing my very-obviously-75cents-burned-coffee.

 

Scowl in-place. 

 

Glaring and hating the perky people who'd suddenly surrounded me. Despite my love of all-things-possibly-bought here [and a compulsive-shopping form of OCD] I'm always in a bad mood at IKEA.

 

They found me 10minutes later and, somehow, soon had me laughing [have I mentioned how much I love these two? Because I do].

 

Much oohing and awing occured (including my awwing over how cute John and Mike are together - seriously, we're talking toothache level of sweet here, people) and we'd soon circled the whole of the place picking up damn-near-everything as we trailed the main floors.

 

[So many good deals, hideous outfits and how-I-want-to-punch-them-Hipsters float around an IKEA, you'd think it's their spawning grounds]

 

Despite coming with a specific set of shopping goals.

 

And spending limits.

 

While I watch these two friends of mine - and resist the urge to fling the inordinately ugly umlauted-name-tauting hideous whatever-the-hell-it-is into the nearest speaker screeching Lady Gaga [seriously, IKEA?] - I think back on my last two trips here.

 

.....

 

  "Ooh, look - I can see my house from up here."
"Dude, you can see the curvature of the earth from up here."

 

In 2006 I visited the church of all-things-Swede with my then-boyfriend, Patrick (a chef), and we did the rounds of the main floor - canoodling, holding hands and being that nauseatingly-cute couple everyone (including me) hates. Focusing on the various kitchens we contemplated just what types of appliances and layouts really struck us.

 

[Being 23 and 19, we really had no business looking at a future like that - looking back.]

 

I mean, I loved leaning against my almost-pocket-gay boyfriend for stolen kisses while we judged [harshly] the butcher-block tiered-kitchen-island in one layout. But, picturing a future together after only a month and a half of dating? WTF? He laughed and smiled at all the right moments, but, was reserved when my glance fell away. I should have seen the writing on the wall.

 

[Read: not have been such a complete dumbass.]

 

Cut to a week later, he went on vacation with his family.

 

A week after that? I received a Dear John Letter via myspace e-mail.

 

Not learning the perils of IKEA on my fragile relationships, I went back in 2007 with my new (and-probably-rebound) boyfriend [okay, everyone sees it coming, right?] Andrew. Together only a few weeks we both needed to pick up a few things from our friendly neighborhood (okay, 25miles away) IKEA.

 

My obsessive-compulsive shopping - which some have commented borders on lunatic - dragged us all over each of the floors, picking up various items we had no need (or want) of. Of course, I commented on how cute the giant bed with 50s vintage room-set would be if we got an apartment down the road.

 

[Stupid. Stupid. Stupid me.]

 

Less than a week later, in preparations for a matching Hallowe'en couple's costume Andrew says he's busy.

 

And doesn't call me back the next day. Or the day after. Or the week after.

 

Oh, IKEA, your Banshee wail calls out the death of my relationships.

 

Of course, most would argue those relationships were doomed and IKEA just helped speed them up. I call those people busy-bodies who need to shut the ... I mean, friends.

 

.....

 

As we exit with the LED under-bed lights John and Mike came for in tow - shopping victory I say! - I mumble to myself: True, IKEA seems to hasten my relationships' demises - as it brings out more of my neurotic and rather bitchier sides - but, it isn't my enemy.

 

As I walk with my friends, and watch their adorable banter [again, so friggin' cute, these two], I know they're in no danger of falling victim to my IKEA-year itch.

 

 

ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE DAYS

"Single by choice ... well, not mine, but, someone's"

 

 

Benjamin Kissell

You know your week is off to a stellar start when it has Valentine’s Day AND 2 of your ex-boyfriends’ birthdays in it.

Did I mention that both are in long-term, committed relationships?

I didn’t? Well, now I did.

Bitter: party of me.

What made this gay heart weep tears reminiscent of Lady Gaga losing all those Grammys to Adele [that’s right, “album of the decade”, mm hmm] was just making it through the snark-inducing shit I deal with.

Join me, please.

 

Thank you Brian B for the inspiration from our fb chat.

 

[Now, picture me in a cute 60s PanAm-esque Flight Attendant outfit ...]

 

Good Morning, passengers of Gay Hearts Weep Airlines, this is your flight attendant – Benjamin – speaking. You need to board this flight quickly and quietly. Your flight crew appreciates this.

Now, here are some simple rules which will ensure everyone has a pleasant flight and walks away from this plane alive.

There is no need to talk to anyone. It is O’Dark-Stupid in the morning; that means it is time to sleep. No one gives a shit about ANY of your problems. To all children that are under the age of 5, please pay close attention:

Shut. The. Fuck. Up. It is way past your bedtime so NO ONE should hear a single peep out of you! If you continue to make noise? I will pepper-spray you my damn self. You have been warned.                                                                                                              

[*ahem* It may be noted here that some have theorized I have a problem with children. Those people? Are perceptive]

 

…..

 

Needless to say, I am not a morning person. Nor can it truly be said I’m an afternoon person. Nor much of a Night Owl. Come to think of it, I think I’m set on perma-snarky.

I wonder if it’s a medical condition.

Should I treat it with wine?

.....

 

Let’s examine this past Monday, as an example of why I’ve such an outlook, together: 

I got up at O’Dark-Stupid in the morning to be at work [again, not a morning person – but, thank gawdd for coffee] and wade through a pack of imbeciles.

I mean pleasant people.

No, I mean completely selfish assclaps who seem to spend hours plotting how to make my mornings at work as difficult as possible.

[Some people call them customers.]

Anywhoo, after all of the loveliness of an 8-hour shift with no real break, I hopped in the car to drive my tired ass home [Please note that I refrained from nabbing McDonald’s – my de facto comfort fast food – stoopid diet. Bugger.] only to discover that my front driver’s side tire had a lovely sharp screw.

Embedded in it.

At least something’s getting screwed for Valentine’s.

Yepp, the day before Saint Valentine’s and I am single, dealing with a flattening front tire, fighting that impending-30s spare tire, and fighting the urge to punt anyone in the balls who so much as crosses me.

 

Healthy coping mechanism? Why, you bet’cha!

 

Okay, I totally took the coward’s way out and called Grandpa to ask what I should do (aside from replacing the tire) – he promised we could spend the next morning replacing or repairing the tire. *Whew!* 

Assured of future success with the tire, I threw caution to the wind and let my hair down. Way down. In fact, I asked my lovely roommate Melanie to chop it off.

[One way to lose weight, cut 3-4 lbs of hair.]

Some people deal with things through shopping [guilty], eating unhealthy foods [also guilty], inappropriate behavior [need I say it?], but on a diet and dirt-broke I turned to the old stand-by: snarky and inappropriate commentary and re-invention.

I may have spent the better part of the evening reading fantastically funny blogs, twitter-feeds and watching youtube … with some wine paired beautifully.

....

A change-up as simple as hair cut or color can perk up even my shittiest day – of course, pairing it with an over-priced t-shirt would make it complete, but, who am I kidding? Not gonna happen.

With my short haircut – inspired by What’s-his-name-you-know-the-hot-one-on-CSI – and a bowl of low-cal devil’s food cake mix [tastier than cardboard, but not much] I had a bounce in my step.

The bonus? The fact that many 18-25 yr olds think I look 22/23 with it is totally [low-cal] icing on the [gawdd how much I wish it were real chocolate] cake.

 

Hrmm, perhaps it wasn’t such a shitty week after all.

 

Or maybe that’s just the wine speaking.

Valentine's Day At The 99 Cent Store

At least they are attempting to educate their customers!

 

Bad Valentine's Day Gifts

Gay or straight, this is definitely a Valentine fail.

 

 

...and so is cheap-ass candy hearts that taste like chalk.

 

 

 Only if it comes with razor blades.

 

 

Probably not a good idea.

 

 
Whatever a bitch smells like can't be good.

 

 

If your lover loves beer, they will probably hit you with this one.

 

Even as a joke this is the fastest way not to get sex on VD.

 

Really???

 

 

Hooter's wings on Valentine's = Break Up

 

It sprays poisonous gas too.

 

The pink gun supporting Breast Cancer may seem like a good idea to make your Valentine swoon, but when she aims it at your balls, you'll regret not going with your first instinct: anything from the jewelry store.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Burgers and Hot Dog Shirts

Ready flamethrower. Aim. FIRE!!!! BBQ!!! Seriously who thinks this shit sells?

 

 

Pushy Holiday Merchandising

Santa Valentine spotted in Los Angeles at CVS on December 23rd.

 

WAITING FOR KEN TO COME OUT OF THE CLOSET

 

"C'mon girls - do you believe in fierce fashion?"

 

By Benjamin Kissell

What makes a Gay Heart Weep metrosexually-acceptable tears of awkwardness? Why, it's walking into the toy aisle and finding Barbie's erstwhile beau, Ken, bent over bukkake-style in front of G.I.Joe's entire platoon. 

I mean, don't get me wrong, I love seeing those tween Bratz doll and Monster High "boyfriends" flaunt their effeminate looks and girly poses (and shoes, never forget the shoes). But, "Fashionista" Ken? Uhm, isn't that term reserved for women, super-fashion-forward gay men [Carson Kressley for example] and gender-confused performers who get on my nerves [I'm looking at you, Gaga]?

Taking a detour through the doll aisle - ostensibly to find presents, but really to find laughs - I discovered visual scare after visual scare. Ken with his hand in the back-pocket of his cut-off Daisy Duke-esque jorts with Hipster-style sleevless tank [GAG], for example. Or the cute Blaine from Glee look complete with skinny-leg jeans, dress short-sleeved shirt and bow-tie. Or, possibly my favorite ... the Toy Story 3 inspired Ken.

 

"Hi, I'm Mallard; Ducky's bi-curious cousin."

Yes, because looking like a less-masculine version of Ducky from Sixteen Candles will TOTES win Barbie's heart back to your cause, Ken. Really? He's one leopard-print slap bracelet away from all of my fashion nightmares in the mid-80s. Or, a few braids and some neon lipstick away from a Boy George costume. Either way; nuh uh. No. Cease and decist. He now has almost as large a wardrobe as Skipper [scary]. 

Please don't think that I don't want a gay-friendly doll for girls and girl-boys to play with; I'm totally for creating toys that any gender can play with and identify with - creating a much more comfortable and accepting generation of kids. I really am. Bu-ut, when it comes down to the basics, Ken = straight guy; Barbie = straight girl; Barbie + Ken = stereotypical heterosexual couple. 

In fact, I'd love to see Barbie develop a new defined friend, a GBFF. Heck, even name him Blaine or Ben or another classically gay name to dispell any confusion. He could go shopping with Barbie, have his own fashion line. They could try on clothes together in the Barbie Deluxe Mall (complete with Hollister, American Eagle, Abercrombie & Fitch and Forever 21 - the food court sold seperately) while playing with their Barbie-brand iphones and discussing which of their trendy boyfriends was DJing at the club that night before leaving to take bodyshots off ab-tastic model-dolls.

But, please crawl back into your classic tux, Ken, and stop making me stare longingly at your Rock Hudson cameo [and yes, I get the irony there] in hopes of seeing the old you. 

 

Manly yes, but he likes it too.

CHRISTMAS ORNAMENT FAIL

What makes a Gay Heart Weep tears of glitter-streaked mascara? Why walking into his local Walgreens (I mean drug store) and finding these *cough* lovely *cough* ornaments gracing the shelves.

The Jersey Shore serialized into cheap plastic 2 for $10 ornaments just screams Merry Christmas, doesn't it? C'mon, isn't this really what every household needs?

 

Dial "G" for Goombas.

The perfect Christmas ornament: Glitter Herpes.

CUSTOMER [MIS]SERVICE

 

By Benjamin Kissell

What makes a gay heart weep tears of price-tag infused pain [with a side of free-gift-with-purchase agony]? Why, working in the Customer Service Industry and the absolute fucktards who don't know the system.

We've all griped, bitched and moaned about bad customer service from the customer's point of view. I mean, who hasn't had that assclap barista who made their coffee with an extra splash of "go fuck yourself"? Or the really rude salesclerk mutter under her breath that that delightfully green blouse you're trying on makes you look like a friggin' jolly fat-ass giant? Or that welcome-desk guy who didn't make you feel welcome so much as you were intruding on his World of Warcraft time?

Yeah, we all have had some bad customer service stories at one time or another, but, lest we forget, there is a tacit agreement here. Good customer service is a 2-way street. When the Server is nice, the Customer is nice, and the Server is nice in return. A volley of kindness. That whole pay-it-forward crap, ya know?

Of course, there are ALWAYS folks who don't believe in this system. People who's sole goal seems to be to work your one remaining shredded nerve until its frayed ends splinter and your patience becomes a thing of the past. These people? These total assclap selfish dicks? Are the Shopping Dead.

I've been "lucky" enough to work in the retail services industry - c'mon, I'm a gay man who's a very 'customer friendly' [their words, not mine] and 'outgoing' [again, their words] - off and on since I was 20 and can testify that this system is real.

For example; in the recent months since Borders closed [read: where in RetailHell am I gonna find another job where I can pretty much dress, talk, act and promote how I want?] I've been back in the 'proper' Customer Service Industry and have I some tales to tell.

For now, we'll gloss over the paranoid schizophrenic off her meds who threw the iron; we'll pass over the creepy old dude who created a doggie kennel in his room and hid it behind his comforter strung-up on the wall; and we'll instead just talk about a plain, run-of-the-mill jerk.

About a month ago, Mister X [shan't call him by his real name, Total Jerk Assface, for legal reasons] showed up to my service counter/desk/whatever-the-hell-you-wanna-call-it and after I politely greeted him [I stay caffeinated to keep up my pseudo-perky demeanor, thank you] rudely cut into the schpeel we are all forced to say.

*Ahem* strike 1.

I arch an eyebrow but politely ask how I may assist him [I'm not gonna lose the Customer Service battle without at least trying] and smile big'n'purty [I may often have a British accent, but, I was raised with Southern manners, thank you].

Of course, my extreme politeness didn't curb his enthusiasm any and the vitriol and acid leaked off his tongue with an alacrity that put me in the shade.

*Ahem* strike 2.

Sure, Mister, I'll happily process your request. Thank you for throwing your credit card at me to pay. And of course it's great that you just called me a fucking idiot for not knowing your name before you told me it and for not being able to read your mind as to what I can do for you in every manner. Why, no, it doesn't bother me when assclaps like yourself act this way.

Oh, wait, yes it does.

Strike 3 - you? Are so outta here.

Pulling my own forked tongue out from behind my teeth I dialed the accent up a notch, dropped the Southern gentility of my politeness - WASP alert - and looked him straight in the eye. And told him.

To go.

Have a nice day.

What? You think I'd tell that jack-off exactly what I thought of him? Remind him of the whole 'I'm nice to you so you're nice to me' unspoken deal that is part of Customer Service?

Okay, I did kinda do that. Bu-ut, that was after he told me to shut my fucking mouth and to not be so sarcastic. [Sidenote: telling a gay man to not be sarcastic is like telling a fuzzy kitten to stop being cute. Not gonna fucking happen. Just fyi.]

Seriously. I'm sorry, but, when I am politely doing my job and go out of my way to ensure that I'm being polite to you and you brazenly breach the etiquette here? Sorry, but all gloves are off.

I tell you this story not to brag - in fact, I'm very NOT proud that I lost my cool like that - but to illustrate the delicate balance the whole dance of Customer Service is based around. It's a give and take. I do my best, when on either side of the counter to make sure I'm giving my best and I hope you are too.

 

N.J. Bridal Shop Refused to Sell Wedding Dress to Lesbian Bride

From ABC News:

Popular reality wedding shows such as "Say Yes to the Dress" depict how emotionally trying the purchase of a wedding dress can be, but Alix Genter found that out for herself when she was refused her dream dress from a New Jersey bridal boutique.

Genter, a graduate student at Rutgers University, was refused the sale of wedding dress at Here Comes the Bride, in Somers Point, N.J., after she says its manager found out she was a lesbian and insulted her about her pending "illegal action."

Donna Saber, who owns and manages the small bridal boutique, had initially called Genter to follow up on the availability of a special light-weight version of the dress Genter had coveted from her shop.

Saber told ABCNews.com that when she prepared to call Genter about her order, she noticed that she had crossed out the word "groom" and put in the word "partner" instead.

"When I mentioned it to her, 'Oh, I see you crossed out groom and put in partner,' I got a barrage," Saber said. "I literally got a barrage of 'bigot' and other really cruel words...I might be the kind of person that when you get at me, I might continue the fight, and maybe I shouldn't say this, but I have my beliefs. I did say that I, to the best of my knowledge in the state of New Jersey, that we do operate in New Jersey. If she had remained calm, I would have been able to tell her, that it's illegal, it's an illegal action, that her marriage was illegal in NJ. "

Even so, her store's Yelp profile has received well over 300 reviews, most of them of them negative, in the last 24 hours alone from individuals all over the country, which proves that the topic of gay marriage remains a sensitive issue.

The boutique's Facebook page administrator had removed similar comments from its public wall.

Saber says that she does regret her words towards Genter and said that on Friday afternoon she left Genter a voicemail expressing apology for her behavior.

Genter didn't respond to the apology, telling ABCNews.com, "I can't have this in my life and I've decided not to talk to any more press. I've said what I've needed to."

Kathryn Hamm, president and co-founder of gay-friendly wedding vendor directory GayWeddings.com, said "It's not surprising that this happened, but the good news is that it's happening with less frequency among wedding vendors in the industry. For what it's worth, I can understand how vendors who haven't considered this issue may not be in favor of it [gay marriage] – it feels scary and intimidating."

Hamm added, "Alix Genter's wedding will forever now will be associated with that very difficult and disrespectful experience. My heart goes out to her and her family. It's a day of celebration that they are preparing and planning for, and Alix has the same right to experience that joy as any other bride."

In June 2011, New York joined Washington, D.C., Iowa, Connecticut, Iowa, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Vermont with its legalization of same-sex marriage.

Same-sex unions in New York State are not differentiated from traditional unions statistically, but more than 5,000 couples in New York City have applied for marriage licenses within the last two months, compared with 4,191 over the same time period last year, Mark Botnik of the New York City Mayor's office told ABCNews.com

The jump in marriage license applications and ceremonies has kept the New York City Clerk's office has been busy.

"The atmosphere has been very positive since the law took effect on July 24th, and we have seen a pretty decent increase in volume of people here," said Michael McSweeny, City Clerk of the City of New York.

"Every day I've seen same sex couples coming in for licenses and ceremonies, and the atmosphere is very upbeat – it's been a summer that none of us will ever forget."

via abcnews.go.com

 

Too Much Love For Chanel

 
A weeping Coco just rolled over in her grave. 

 
The L must be up his ass.