That point in the night when it's too early to play games & a l'il late to play coy

A couple of people that originally inspired me to write have suddenly stopped blogging or taken sabbaticals. I wish them tons of luck but am shusshing them to the door. I think some people got too "woe-is-me" with their missives and that was their downfall. When my grandma died, I talked about her telling me I needed a bra at my pool party and then how karma slapped her with Hepatitis C after eating a foul hotdog at Bingo. I didn't cry out loud like some Melissa Manchester queen, did I?

I finally got to meet a cyberspace friend who blogs and we really cliqued. We seemed to have a lot in common, including the hobby of Googling our names and then jerking off to the lists of webhits. Anyway, in speaking with him, I realized what a masturbatory exercise this whole blogging experience would become for me if it were just a bitch-fest. The fact that I'm now writing for magazines, pitching ideas (2 really-both of which have been rejected) to websites and honing a talent makes me feel productive.

One of my story pitches to a popular gay site was on a product that hasn't been marketed to GLBT people but very well could be. They said it wasn't gay enough. I asked what they meant about by "not gay enough." They replied with something like "I don't know how gay it should be. But we know it when we see it."

This was my email back to them
Thanx for the feedback. Next time I want to pitch a story that isn't totally inundated with rainbows, cock rings and Queer Eye references, I'll make sure to exhume Liberace and tack it to his chest before my submission.

They didn't respond.

Back to my friend- Benjamin (btw-Check him out above under 15 Min). He's opened so many doors through his blog for himself and is turning into a redhot male Xaviera Hollander. In talking about our respective blogs, I realized his gets more hits weekly than mine gets in a year. This requires that he pays for massive amounts of bandwith required to keep his site running. Ben was right when he said that "Smiles don't pay the electric bill." I guess he's never wiped his chin off while grinning up at the meter man.