What Would Summer Do?

This past Sunday, I attended a very classy cocktail party at Cornholia’s Boulangerie (and backroom). My attendance was contingent upon performing for the talent-starved crowd. Along with two fresh-faced ingenues, I sang and danced my heart out! Needless to say, I was drunk and don’t remember any of the affair; however, I woke up with cheese dip all over my red dress and matching turban. Apparently, in addition to performing, I actually talked to guests at the party. Like I said, I was shit-faced and I don’t recall any conversations, but apparently I spoke to someone named Pappa Bear. I don’t know who he is, but he’s my new favorite person. That’s because he sent me ten questions! Not just one, but ten! Normally, it’s like pulling teeth to get you lazy TNG readers to send me questions to answer. I mean how hard can it be to think about your pain-filled and pathetic lives and send me a question? Hmm? So thank you, Pappa Bear!

Dear Ms. Camp,

Thank you for coming on Sunday. I was so fascinated by our conversation that I was hoping you might be able to answer a few questions that I have received in the last 24 hours:

1. Why did J.C.’s underwear combust so quickly?
2. How did that drunken fraulein who was dancing on our back deck keep such a teeny tiny flacon of gin in her gaping twat for so long, and how did she finally find it? And why did she not know that juniper berries are an essential ingredient in the gin that made her puff-out like a sumo-wrestler?
3. How many ways are there to make egg salad?
4. Can hard-boiled eggs be frozen? For a whole year?
5. Do you know the name of the whore who rubbed Bavarian beer cheese all over my showering towel upstairs?
6. We were taking bets – how many prostitutes do you think there were at the party on Sunday?
7. Can you identify the prostitutes who left the smoked bowel, an open package of pocket lube, and a puddle on the floor of our guest room?
8. Is it true that J.C. is really 89? How does he stay so young looking?
9. Why can gays drink so goddamned much booze? And why did those inconsiderate sissies not finish all of it?
10. How tight is your vagine?

Well, thanks Ms. Camp. I sure did like visiting with you on Sunday.

Yours truly,
Pappa Bear

Dear Pappa Bear,

I must apologize. As I’ve already stated in this column, I was seriously fucked up on Sunday. I don’t remember anything. I blacked out during my performance of “I’m A Little Teapot” and came to at McDonald’s eating a 24-piece Chicken McNuggets around midnight. So, in order to answer your questions, I’ve had to rely on my natural advice-giving instincts, the memories of other guests, and bald-faced lying.

I’ll answer your questions just like I pop my zits: one at a time.

1. Regarding the flammability of J.C.’s underwear…I assume you’re using J.C.’s initials to protect his innocence. I don’t like initials. Let’s call him Jesus Christ. Though I was drunk, I do remember this part of the evening. I thoroughly enjoyed watching the mob attack Jesus Christ. I laughed when they threw Jesus Christ on the ground, ripped his underwear from his body, and set them on fire. Everyone laughed while Jesus Christ’s stinky diaper smoldered and turned into a black pile of soot. I believe that Jesus Christ’s undies combusted so quickly, because he’s a whore who never changes his underwear. Those ratty-tatty panties looked more like a bird’s nest than a garment. Not to mention the incredibly high levels of methane that circulate in Jesus Christ’s nether-regions.

2. Regarding the dancing fraulein who hid the flask in her cooter, I’m not allowed to divulge another performer’s secrets. Regarding her juniper berry-induced anaphylactic shock that resulted in her passing out on your couch…well, she’s dumb ass.

3. There is only one way to make egg-salad.

4. Yes, hard-boiled eggs can be frozen for up to one year. I’m keeping mine in my freezer until I find the right sperm donor.

5. Yes, I do know the name of the whore who rubbed Bavarian beer cheese on your showering towel. It’s SUMMER CAMP. But it’s not beer cheese. May I suggest you taste it. I’m sure you’ll recognize the taste of my ass since you had your face in it for nearly an hour.

6. A simple equation reveals the number of prostitutes at your party: Add up all the people who RSVP-ed “Yes.” Add 2. Now, subtract 2. That’s your answer. (Thanks to Portia Blanca for this answer).

7. At first, this question confused me. I assume you mean “smoked bowl” not “smoked bowel.” The former is a what we potheads refer to as breakfast. The latter is either a Scandinavian delicacy or a terrible affliction that needs immediate medical attention. And no, I have no idea of the name of the whore who left those things in your bathroom. But if you find my I.D., can you let me know?

8. No, Jesus Chris is not 89. He’s only 40. And he’s not young looking.

9. Don’t call me an inconsiderate sissy.

10. I think the following joke illustrates the tightness of my vagine. The other night I was getting busy with a client. I told him to stick a finger in my vagine. He did. I told him to stick another finger in my vagine. He did. I told him to put his whole hand in my vagine. He did. I told him to stick his other hand in my vagine. He did. I told him to clap his hands. He tried and then said, “I can’t.” I responded, “Tight, huh?”

Well, Pappa Bear, I hope these answers clear things up for you. Thanks again for inviting me to perform at your tasteless function. And may I remind all of you that I’ll be performing next Saturday, June 27, at CRACK: Suburbia…There Goes the Neighborhood at TOWN Danceboutique. The doors open at 9 PM and tickets are only $8. For more information, please visit the CRACK website.

Yours Truly,
Summer Camp

What Would Summer Do?

Dear Summer,

Sincerely,
Tired of Spelunking

Dear Tired,

Ick! That is really disgusting. There’s nothing worse than kissing someone and ending up with a gallon of their nasty spit in your mouth or a saliva-soaked chin that looks more like you finished an all-you-can-eat lobster buffet than a trip to first base.

But don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright. This is definitely not something to end your relationship over. I’m a proponent of confronting situations head on, so you should tell your sloppy kisser that you’re not content with the way s/he kisses. Good kissing is an art form, but thankfully, it’s a skill that can be learned, and I’m prepared to share my trade secrets with you.

I’m sure some readers are saying, “Summer Camp…you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Saliva is harmless.”

Let’s look at the facts. Though human saliva is composed mostly of water (98-percent), it also includes electrolytes, mucus, and various digestive enzymes. I think most people prefer to get their water from the faucet and their electrolytes from Gatorade. No one likes boogers in their mouth. And as far as the enzymes are concerned, I’d prefer to keep my tongue intact than have the tip of it dissolved by someone’s mouth secretions. Unless you suffer from chronic dehydration or like the sensation of a live eel wriggling around in your mouth, I think we need to discuss how to confront your kissing partner.

It’s important to have this discussion in a neutral environment when you are NOT kissing. When the moment is right, turn to your partner and express the following:

1. That you care about him/her.
2. That you enjoy spending intimate time with him/her.
3. That you get the sense that they care deeply about you.
4. That you interpret his/her “passionate” kissing as a sign of strong physical desire.
5. That you are not a baby bird looking for your next meal of regurgitated worms when you kiss.

Congratulations on a successful confrontation.

Now, it’s time to move on to helping your lover re-learn how to kiss without drowning you or massaging your stomach ulcers with his/her tongue. Mutually satisfying love-making relies on proper feedback. Tell your partner what you like and what you dislike. Make the learning process a sexy game by encouraging your partner to mimic your actions. Kiss your partner the way you want to be kissed. Then ask him/her to perform the same thing on you. Take turns until your lessons pay off. If s/he reverts to the old anteater technique, pinch the tip of his/her tongue between your thumb and forefinger and yank it a couple times. Or if you notice that Niagara Falls has taken up residence in his/her mouth again, toss a cup of kitty litter in it. Eventually, s/he will learn from this type of feedback.

But if your partner persists in treating your make-out sessions like a CPR class, then apply faux herpes sores to your lips and tell them that your mouth is off-limits. There are lots of other uses for a juicy hole and overactive tongue!

Good Luck!
Summer Camp

What Would Summer Do?

This week’s WWSD is a little different. The question is not from a TNG reader who sent me an email. Instead, someone asked me a question last night at a restaurant. I was sitting with some friends, telling them how I write an advice column called What Would Summer Do. We all had a good laugh about this. I mean who would ever listen to advice from ME? I mean c’mon. If you’ve read any of my responses, you know that my advice is hardly helpful. In fact, some of my advice could get you arrested.

Well, this person who overheard part of our conversation leaned over and asked me a question that made me pause. Here is what she said:

Summer: I am planning a Mother’s Day banquet at my church this year, I need all the advice you could give me. Especially Ice-Breakers.

I nearly choked on the cherry in my Stoli Vanilla and Diet Coke. Church? Banquet? Mother’s Day?

I explained to this person that I don’t go to church. That I haven’t seen my mother since she chewed through my umbilical cord. And I certainly don’t eat at banquets. But she was serious and said she’d like my advice. I thought about how I like to break the ice. Here is what I suggested:

• Have a purse scavenger hunt. See who has a pair of scissors or a knife or a gun. Find out who has the most used tissues or condoms. See who has the most pictures or food stamps or soiled panties.
• Use post-it notes to write down names of famous mothers: Mother Teresa, Mother Mary, Mother Nature, etc. Put one name on each attendee’s back. People have to mingle around and ask the other attendees three yes or no questions to figure out who they are. It’s really fun and gets people talking and moving, especially if someone is “Mother Fucker.”
• Make origami. See who can be the most creative. If you don’t have paper, just tear out the pages in your bible.
• Play “I’ve Done Something You Haven’t Done…in Bed.” Have each person introduce themselves and then state something they have done in bed that they think no one else in the class has done. If someone else has also done it, the student must state something else until he/she finds something that no one else has done.
• Have an orgy. This is how I like to break the ice.

At that point, the person stopped me. She said, “You’re no Ann Landers. You’re a filthy-minded tramp.”

I said, “Duh!” and went back to chewing on my cherry. But, I’ll bet you anything that on Sunday she’ll be eating whisker biscuits and wearing a corsage made from Psalms 23.

What Would Summer Do?

Dear Summer,

I have been dating the same guy for the past three months. I really like him, but with the last few warm weekends, I am reminded that summer is around the corner. It’s time to pack away the sweaters, hoodies, and all my bulky crap. Is the boyfriend something I only need to pull out of the closet for the winter months? WWSD!

Yours Truly,
Brady

Dear Brady,

Thank you for your letter. This is the easiest question I’ve received in a long time. The answer is: YES!

Just put your bf in a plastic container and slip him under the bed or into the closet or just put him out on the street with a used coffee maker and a sign that says, “Free.”

I don’t care if you’ve been with your slumber buddy for three months or three years, when the summertime hits, it’s time to shed your excess baggage (and pounds), slip into something skimpy, and prance around without a care in the world. That’s what I’d do, but I’m a tramp with recurring STDs who hates commitment. I’d dump him and enjoy your (solo) moment in the sun!

Some readers may be more inclined to the Noah’s Ark approach to the summer months: couple up and go on an exotic trip. It’s true that traveling with a companion can be very rewarding, but that’s what your gurlfriends are for. Wouldn’t it be much more exciting to have your own Sisterhood of the Traveling Panties adventure? Meet some hot biscuit in Greece or Rio or Amsterdam? Yes! The answer is YES.

I can just hear someone whining, “But I want to have people over to my house for super cute, couple-y, rose wine-drinking Sunday BBQs and stuff.” Yea, that sounds wonderful, if you’re 80. Cookouts are not for cooking out, they are for making out! Trust me, you want to be single at your next BBQ. Stock up on wieners, charcoal, and condoms! Invite your hot single friends over, and before your meat is medium rare, your sex life will be well done.

The summer season is short – just three months. You have nine other months to shack up with someone and play house. Labor Day will be here before you can shake a stick at a bowl of spilled milk. I’ll bet that when you’re storing away your summer whites, you’ll find your trusted boy toy preserved in plastic under the bed or in the closet or still sitting on the street waiting for you. And if he’s not, hit the end-of-summer clearance sales. I’m sure you can pick up something you like that will last you until next summer.

xoxo
Summer

What Would Summer Do?

Dear Summer,

Illustration by Maggie

When I get drunk enough there is only one thing I want to do: make out with people. Not fuck, not hand jobs, just make out. This often leads to me making an ass of myself in public when I try to kiss people who don’t want to be kissed, or wind up in plain view of the whole bar making out with everyone. How do I curtail myself? Should I curtail myself? Help me!

Sincerely,
Can’t stop kissing

Dear CSK,

Thank you for your letter. Normally people send letters to me via email. How did you get my mailing address? That’s a little stalker-ish, but I did like the way you sealed your letter with pink lipstick kisses.  What is that shade?  Prepubescent Pink? Conjunctivitis Carnation? Smoked Salmon? Whatever it is, j’adore!

Your situation is interesting, but not uncommon. There are many things that people do when they get drunk: overeat while crying, hit loved ones while professing their love, or pass out in public toilets while waiting for anonymous sex. I’ve done all three. But usually when I get wasted, all I want to do is drunk-dial ex-lovers who dumped me, especially the ones who didn’t pay me. I like to tell them silly things like, “I’m outside your house with a loaded gun,” or “I just took a shit in your backyard fucker!”

Compared to all of those tawdry behaviors, kissing random people is pretty G-rated. Actually, it’s kind of sweet.

Because alcohol is involved, your issue could be serious. However, I don’t have enough information to weigh in on a potential drinking problem. I don’t know what “drunk enough” means to you or how often you’re binging and puckering. You might need a second (professional) opinion. [Note: I'm drunk right now, so I would take everything I say with a grain of salt, especially if you like tequilla].

All you want to do is stick your liquor-soaked tongue into the warm, moist, saliva-filled hole that people use for dirty things like eating meat, talking smack, coughing up mucous, rimming poop chutes, and (if you’re bullemic like me) throwing up every meal. That’s not so bad.

I wouldn’t worry about making an ass out of yourself. People do it every day and live to tell others about it. Ass-making moments are the highlights of our memoirs. I assume you’re planning a memoir. Everyone should. And tales of attacking unsuspecting strangers on the dance floor with your sloppy drunk kisses are perfect fodder for page-turning autobiographies.

You should be aware that drunk-kissing is a gateway behavior to more scandalous activities that involve additional bodily secretions. However, for now, you’re probably only at risk for the occasional cold sore, bad case of mono, or a slap in the face. But all of these are easily treated thanks to the marvels of modern science and lipstick.

I don’t think you should curtail yourself. It doesn’t sound like you’re hurting anyone. You don’t mention a significant other who is lurking and fuming in the distance. Just pick up a prescription for Valtrex and kiss away! Maybe you should consider bringing a kissing booth to the bars. You could earn a couple bucks while you’re at it.

xoxo
Summer

Do you need help? Do you hate your therapist? Are your friends tired of hearing you whine? Then why not get your advice from a potty-mouth drag queen who likes to tell people what to do?

Hi! My name is Summer Camp. Maybe you know me from my numerous appearances on Judge Judy. Or hosting my cabaret show called CRACK. Or just from seeing me stand around your street corner. In addition to being a glamorous superstar, I’m also really good at telling people what to do.

What Would Summer Do is The New Gay’s advice column. Here’s how it works: Each Wednesday, I answer one lucky reader’s desperate plea for advice. You can ask me ANYTHING! I’ve answered readers’ questions about pooping in front of significant others, how to deal with tough financial times, even how to get Sheena Easton’s song, “Sugar Walls” out of your head.

But, I can’t do this without you! I need YOU to send me your questions. Remember what they say, “There are no stupid questions, just stupid people.”

It’s easy. Just send your question to Summer Camp c/o wwsd@thenewgay.net. DO IT TODAY!

Dear Summer,

I’m not a very good dancer. I like to dance, but I might as well be standing on a street corner swinging twigs over my head when I’m letting my body move naturally to music. Sometimes a combination of beer, weed, and resignation lets me relax enough to boogie, but it’s rare. My boyfriend, on the other hand, is a great dancer. Often, he’ll want to dance and I won’t. So I end up standing against a wall watching him have a good time. Or he’ll dance with me, at my awkward pace, instead of with people who can actually get down. Any advice? Should I take lessons? Should we confine our nightlife to bridge and boxed wine at home? Please let me know.

Two Left Feet and No Balls

Dear Two Left Feet,

Thanks for your letter. Though I’m a huge fan of wine that comes in square containers, there should be more to nightlife than stay-at-home card parties. We gotta boost your confidence and get you on the dance floor. Dancing in clubs can be very intimidating. Interpreting music and expressing it through free-form rhythmic movements can make one feel very vulnerable. And sometimes look like a fool!

Luckily, I don’t suffer from this affliction because I trained at the Dionne Warwick Solid Gold School of Danse, but most people aren’t so lucky, including you! So, it looks like you’re in a pickle! But one that is easy to overcome, and Summer Camp is here to help you.

Does this look familiar? Do you recognize the choreographically challenged dancer? Look at him! Not too coordinated, is he? Kind of looks like he’s having a seizure. I can’t stop laughing at him.

He looks ridiculous. And based on your (WTF) tree branch on a street corner description, I’m guessing that you look ridiculous when you’re dancing. But that’s okay. It’s all about attitude. You gotta sell it like a hooker and act like your pathetic twig-swinging jig is the shit!

When I need inspiration, I often turn to pop culture (and gas-huffing). Pop culture holds a mirror up to real life and makes my problems seem surmountable. Pop culture is filled with powerful stories of bad dancers who go on to conquer the elusive dance floor.

Have you seen the movie, Can’t Buy Me Love? There’s an emotional scene in the movie that features Patrick Dempsey aka McDreamy from Sleepless Doctors in Seattle or something…I can’t remember the name of the show cause it’s STUPID! In the climactic scene, he gets his entire high school student body to do a dance based on an African Anteater ritual that he saw on TV. The dance was kee-razy, but everyone did it. Because he brought it!

Or how about Cameron Diaz in Charlie’s Angels (which, BTW, is an underrated movie). The actress who people love to hate, or hate to love, dances like a fool on Soul Train. But notice that she does it with pizazz and panache! It worked for her, and it can work for you!

Or how about the infamous “steel-town girl” on a Saturday night, lookin’ for the fight of her life? You know that in the real-time world no one sees her at all, they all say she’s crazy! But still, she found a way of locking rhythms to the beat of her heart, changing woman into life. When all was said and done, she had danced into the danger zone, where a dancer becomes a dance.

The point I’m trying to make is: Don’t take it seriously. Get out there and let loose. Have a good time. Be a maniac on the dance floor.

It sounds like your bf is a good guy, so I’m sure he’ll support you. Granted, shrugging off self-consciousness is really hard work that takes a lot of effort, but just like Debbie Allen said in the opening credits to the TV series Fame, “You got big dreams and right here is where you start payin’…in sweat!”

Hope to see you sweatin’ on the dance floor!

xoxo
Summer

P.S. If you’re the kind of guy that prefers to learn via lessons, I made this video for you. I took a instructional video and updated the music a little bit. Enjoy!

P.P.S. Don’t forget to become a fan of Summer Camp on facebook.

In addition to sage advice from a gorgeous drag queen, each WWSD response includes an illustration created by TNG’s Maggie. However, Maggie is on vacation this week, so today’s illustration was created by yours truly!

Have a question for Summer Camp? Send it to her at wwsd@thenewgay.net.

Dear Summer,

You gotta help me. I’m a gay guy who goes to the gym a few times each week. There is a new guy at my gym who is hotter than two embers rubbing together under a wool blanket in July. I can’t help but stare at him, and I think I’ve seen him looking back at me once or twice, but I have no idea how to approach him without coming off as skeezy. The gym is such a hyper-sexual environment (all that sweat, all those tank tops) that I fear any attempt at conversation would just come off like a come-on. And it goes without saying that the sauna or the group showers aren’t ideal places to introduce myself. I never see this guy out, though, so this is my only option. What should I do?

Sweating in the Sauna

Dear Sweating,

Thanks for your letter. I can almost smell the tantalizing aroma of B.O. wafting from your sports kit! That yummy mix of onions, pickles, and funk. You do realize that you’re asking a skeezy drag queen for advice on meeting a stranger. So, if you really want to know what Summer would do, read on.

Here is my advice: Stop being a wuss and introduce yourself to your ember-hot gym boy. Duh!

You seem to be averse to presenting yourself in a sexual manner to someone with whom you obviously want to get under the “wool covers.” If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my short, youthful life, it is: BEING COY GETS YOU NOWHERE!

I’m not suggesting that you walk up and grab his shaft in the shower. Which, by the way, has worked for me on numerous occasions. Except one time, when the shaft in question detached from the person’s body and fell onto the tile floor. It was really awkward and creepy because neither of us said anything. Instead, I quickly rinsed the Clairol Herbal Essences Dangerously Straight Hair Conditioner from my weave and skedaddled out of the shower.

Where was I? Oh, yes. I’m sure you can find an appropriate time to say hello at the gym without coming off like Jennifer Jason Leigh in Single White Female: “I love myself like this!” Maybe try the water fountain. Or maybe approach him when he’s in between sets of arm curls. Or how about the more benign zones of the locker room (e.g., sinks, lounge area, etc.). If you waste time trying to appear “cooler” than necessary, you may end up blowing your chance to meet the love of your life…instead of blowing the love of your life!

Since this advice column is called What Would Summer Do, I also wanted to give you a couple of Summer-style approaches that better capture my natural, predatory instincts.

1. The next time you see him working out on a “chest day,” approach him and tell him that you’re a certified personal trainer and that you’d like to offer him your services. Encourage him to start with the bench press. Really stack on the weights so he requires your assistance as his spotter. Assume a position with your legs spread above his head. Lift the bar off the rack and start counting reps. When you get to 3, let your wiener slip out. Oops! Then let it fall into his mouth. Oops! Then jizz in his mouth. Oops!

2. The next time you see him doing cardio, get on the adjacent machine. Start at a moderate pace, but then build to maximum exertion. The goal is to faint. When you come to, hopefully, you’ll be lip locked with your dream boat. Nothing like a little CPR to bring two people together. Be sure that you’re not high on heroin at the time, or you may throw up in his mouth. Not hot!

I’m sure that one of these brilliant ideas will work for you, and you’ll have a new gym buddy in no time.

xoxo
Summer

P.S. Don’t forget to become a fan of Summer Camp on facebook.

In addition to sage advice from a gorgeous drag queen, each WWSD response includes an illustration created by TNG’s Maggie.

Have a question for Summer Camp? Send it to her at wwsd@thenewgay.net.

Dear Summer,

I’m in a serious, long-term relationship. What is the protocol for going to the bathroom with the door open? I will pee in front of anyone, at any time, including my boyfriend. But when it comes to number two I keep it under lock and key. Am I being emotionally withdrawn, or simply appropriate?

Tenting In My Gym Shorts

Dear Tenting,

Thanks for your letter. I’m not going to address the fact that this topic has you “tenting” in your gym shorts. I’m not judging you, I’m just saying.

This is a delicate subject, and I’m sure you’re not alone in your curiosity about proper partner poop protocol. Few people feel comfortable doing “Number Two” in front of their significant other, let alone talking about it. In fact, I’m sure many readers are wincing as they read these words. [Note to sensitive readers: Stop reading now, we're gonna get graphic!]

Feelings of embarrassment (funny how that word includes ass) caused by displays of our backdoor bodily functions are fairly universal. It was either Freud or my aunt Tina who said that fear of public pooping is related to the temporary loss of control. And our shame is compounded by social norms that discourage communal crapping. I remember the time I proudly showed my fifth grade teacher the Rorschach in my diaper. She slapped my face and called me “dirty.” It’s also possible that our shame could have more to do with the fact that dropping the kids off at the pool can be noisy, splashy, and smelly.

So What Would Summer Do?

I think you should pop the poop-cherry and take a dump with an open door. In fact, do it in front of your partner. Consider it an intimacy-building exercise. [Note: Readers who are in the just-dating or honeymoon phase should not attempt this. You should maintain the charade that you fart flowers for at least six months.]

If this is new territory, ease into it. Start with what I call a Mock-Poo™. This exercise is designed to help you get over yourselves. A Mock-Poo™ will be easier for the sit-to-pee readers who already feel comfortable sitting on the pot while their partner is present. If you’re a stand-to-pee reader, you may experience a little discomfort at first.

A Mock-Poo™ is easy. You (i.e., The Pooper) sit idle on the toilet with cheek-to-porcelain contact. Your partner (i.e., The Witness) enters the bathroom and engages in a normal bathroom behavior (e.g., eyebrow plucking, mirror cleaning, bikini waxing, etc.). Remain seated for three minutes, then pantomime wiping your b-hole. It’s okay. Both of you know that it’s only a Mock-Poo™. Then flush and repeat. Try this exercise a few times. As you get more advanced, you can add sound effects and gestures. Eventually, you’ll be ready for the real deal.

Years from now, when you reflect on your lives together, you’ll laugh that you ever felt uneasy about emptying your bowels while your partner flosses his/her teeth. In fact, if you’re still together many years from now, chances are you will have graduated to wiping each other.

Kudos you!
xoxo
Summer

P.S. Don’t forget to become a fan of Summer Camp on facebook.

Happy New Year TNG Readers!

Once again, it’s the time for refreshed and reenergized resolve. Time to set goals and stick to them. But, if you’re like me, you’ve already fallen off the wagon of good intentions, and your resolutions lay in a sticky wad on the bathroom floor mixed with lint and pubic hair.

But don’t panic dear readers! Though I can’t maintain an exercise routine or quit drinking two six-packs of Pabst each night before bed or stop watching Antiques Roadshow, I’m still the perfect person to dole out advice that has been clinically proven to help reduce stress, anxiety, and gray hair.

Last year, you wrote about your failing finances, lackluster love life, and nagging neuroses. But lately, the well-of-needy-letters has gone dry. Maybe you’ve been busy writing letters to Santa Claus. Um, that fat-ass might bring you shiny toys, but he can’t tell you if your girlfriend is cheating. Or if you need to buy a new wardrobe. Or what to do about your nasty toe fungus. But Summer Camp can! I’m still here. On my knees. Waiting. Begging. Drooling. PLEASE send me your letters! I want to help you.

Here’s how it works: Every other Wednesday, I’ll answer one lucky reader’s desperate plea for advice. And this year, I’m adding cartoons! Yup, TNG’s own Maggie will add some illustrative spice to Summer’s advice!

Send your letters to wwsd@thenewgay.net.

Dear E-Cleff,

I am a white woman in the lgbt community. The type of women I date are 99% black and mostly butch in apperance and I know and have seen how black lesbians operate both by who i have dated as well as friends. Being involved in interracial relationships I have experianced the awkward stares and the negative talk that come from outsiders in the community as well of those that are in. I am currently talking to this one woman who I really like. We have a good time together when we go out and are able to chill in together and have fun as well. The only problem that is wearing on me is that she has made a comment and not taken me to a couple of places because I am white… I don’t know what to do at this point because I do like her. I know that skin color this day and age is still an issue, obviously: look at the issue with our president-elect. It’s an unattractive quality to have, being shallow. Like I said i like her, but I just don’t know if she is worth the time I’m putting into her anymore, but I’m still on the fence over this. Can you relate or give any advice?

Thanks,
Whitey ;P

Dear Whitey,

It is interesting that you are writing me about this issue, since I personally have dealt with the same situation as a black butch woman who has dated white women.

First and foremost I think you have to recognize that the DC gay scene has become so segregated, and unfortunately people are starting to get comfortable with this concept. It’s a crazy concept to me that there are “white” parties and “black” parties.

Second, as much as you can try to comprehend, you will never know what it feels like to be a black woman, let alone a black butch woman. There are hidden standards and expectations we deal with in our community that white women would never understand. Though this statement is pretty obvious, it is important to say and really grasp this concept.

Third, believe it or not I can completely understand where your lady friend is coming from. Trust me; the white gay community is completely different than the black gay community. I’m sure both of you having gone out to predominantly white venues; never had to question this sort of thing, right?

Well it’s not that simple in predominantly black women venues. Though I have seen some changes, the stigma is still there. In my experience, black women (not all) tend to hate on each other and judge one another from the start, based on looks, clothes, speech, etc. Sometimes we are our own worse critics, which is a shame. As someone who grew up in Olney, MD, many of my fellow black lesbians have called me “white”. Why do I have to be white? Why can’t I just be me? I have seen people size me up because of my looks and how I talk. Now take all of this and throw in a white woman you are dating in the mix (…pause for contemplation). Though you are just you, and she is just her, to some she is portraying hatred of her race, or that she is too good for her own kind, or that she is a traitor. You get the point. Sometimes we just don’t want to have to deal with the stares, the ignorance, and the comments. Sometimes we just want to go out and have a good time. Sometimes we just want to blend in with everyone else and not cause attention. This I think you can understand. Sometimes we tend to make decisions based on what other people think. We all are guilty of it.

It sounds like overall you really like this woman. If this is true, it’s not time to kick her to the curb quite yet. I think when you actually sit down and talk to her about this issue; you will hear some of the same themes that have come up in my response, which I would hope you can respect. At the end of the day, these items are not an excuse as to why both of you can’t get your swerve on, no matter the crowd. At some point, your friend has to be able to say “Fuck That!” She has to be comfortable enough with herself to say “this is me and this is who I like, who cares what other people think”. She has to realize that she has to live her life for her, not for other people. If she still can’t see this than I think it would be time to reconsider whether it’s worth your time and effort.

I don’t know if I gave you the answer you were looking for, but hopefully I gave you a little different perspective on the situation. I could have gone so many different ways with this topic since it is a sensitive issue in our community. I smell a new blog coming on!

Good luck!

E-Cleff

Dear Summer,

I’m depressed. Barbara Walters has named her most fascinating people of 2008, and once again, I DIDN’T MAKE THE CUT!!! Some of the people who made the list are cool: Tina Fey and the Pregnant Man. But Rush Limbaugh? Tom Cruise? I think I’m more fascinating than Rush and Tom. I want to be fascinating! What do I have to do? What would you do?

Apparently Unfascinating

Dear Unfascinating:

Thanks for raising this very important issue. I don’t know what it feels like to be “unfascinating,” but I’m sure it’s painful. Let’s see what Summer can do to make it all better.

First of all, don’t give up. Ms. Walters hasn’t officially announced her “Most Fascinating Person of 2008” yet. It might be you.

But, it’s probably not.

Now, I wouldn’t get morose about the fact that you’re not as fascinating as Tina Fey. I’m sure your friends laugh at your jokes and you wear “attractive” outfits and your cat pays attention to you when it’s hungry. You’re just not Barbara Walters-level fascinating.

Let’s look at Barbara’s list:

1. ???
2. Thomas Beatie
3. Frank Langella
4. Sarah Palin
5. Michael Phelps
6. Miley Cyrus
7. Rush Limbaugh
8. Tina Fey
9. Tom Cruise
10. Will Smith

Ugh! Snoresville! Apparently it doesn’t take much to fascinate a 79-year old Libra from Brookline, MA. I have scabs on my knees that are more fascinating than most of the people on her list. Why is her list so white? Where are the gays?? My gawd Barbara…you’re such a stick in the mud. At least her list includes someone who is transgender. Why does Barbara Walters get to pick the most fascinating people of the year?

I digress…you asked me for advice. You want to know how to shrug off the affliction of “unfascination.”

The following suggestions are a combination of tactics that I have actually used; as well as some untested, but sure-fire ways to get noticed.

DISCLAIMER: Summer Camp and TNG are not responsible for subsequent arrests, incarcerations, or public humiliation due to readers’ desperate attempts to become more fascinating.

Five Ways To Be More Fascinating

1. Poop your pants at work every day for one month. When I did this, it wasn’t on purpose, it just happened. People were fascinated and disgusted. Two for the price of one!
2. Record your own acoustic album in your living room and distribute it over the Internet via PayPal. Another two-for, this will make you fascinating and rich.
3. Get really drunk, put on a ski mask, and go for drive in a stolen car. I did this once, and people were interested. If you want to escalate this activity to fascination-inducing levels, add a car accident. Just ram the car into the first pedestrian, mailbox, or building you see. People are always fascinated by car accidents (and train wrecks).
4. Become a successful alchemist. People love gold! Especially homemade gold. Use your new talent to craft super-cute charm bracelets for charity. Team up with other Christ-like givers such as Bono or Sally Struthers for added impact.
5. Wear a beret and scarf at all times.

Good luck obtaining increased fascination from your new fans. And, if you’re like me—on the edge of your toilet seat with anticipation and constipation—you’ll tune in to the 16th annual “Barbara Walters Presents: The 10 Most Fascinating People” to find out who is Number One in 2008! The love-fest airs tonight at 10:00 PM on ABC. [Note: I'd rather have small pox...ooh, another way to get people to stare at you].

Who do you think will top the list? I’m betting on that monster—Tyra Banks.

xoxo
Summer

P.S. Don’t forget to become a fan of Summer Camp on facebook.

So apparently Michael thinks Thanksgiving is the best holiday of the year. I personally think Michael should get his head checked. Sure it’s a great time to eat and drink, but for anyone going back home it can also mean a whole year’s worth of family bonding, brawling and back-stabbing packed into one four-day weekend. Factor in flight delays, crying babies and newly-introduced significant others and its a miracle that people put the turkey into the oven and not their own heads. So without any delay I present TNG Zack’s guide to surviving Thanksgiving.

1:You Can Get Anything You Want at Alice’s Restaurant (Excepting a Fucking Minute to Yourself.)

If your family’s anything like mine (and if it is, I’m sorry) than your holiday weekend might be ridiculously overbooked. Skip out on that post-dinner movie, get in a nap before you go to see your grandparents or even just take a walk around the block. You’d be surprised at the difference it makes. I have one really hallowed Thanksgiving tradition: sneaking away from dinner to listen to Arlo Guthrie sing “Alice’s Restaurant.” Its the story of a funny thanksgiving mishap that turns into a pretty relevant commentary on war.Chicago’s WXRT plays it about ten times every Thanksgiving Day and it provides a really nice 18 minute respite from the chaos. I couldn’t embed it here, which sucks, but be sure to check it out. Even if you don’t need the break its something you should be familiar with.

2. Expect Maturity, Prepare for Regression.

The last time my entire nuclear family lived in the same house, I was 8 and my oldest sister was 18. I am now a college graduate and she is a successful publicist in New York City, but you wouldn’t know it by watching us. At dinner tonight, she referred to bathing her 18 month old daughter as “the vagina show” and casually remarked that our house smelled like anus. Earlier today, my dad politely asked me to set the table and I snapped “Jesus, you said that already” as if I was 13 and angsty. My point? No matter what you do, it is inevitable that some of your old family dynamics will come back in play. Am I happy that, come tomorrow night, I’ll have spilled peas, hit my head on a door frame and picked up my old stutter? No, but I’m ready for it and that’s what counts.

3. If You’re Out to Your Family, Get Ready to Answer Inappropriate Questions. If You’re Not Out to Your Family, Keep It That Way.

Coming out to your family is like handing them a little card that says “Hey, feel free to ask me whatever pops into your head.” Combine that with the aforementioned regression and really anything goes. Be prepared to describe your safer sex habits to your niece, explain to your brother-in-law that cross-dressing and homosexuality are entirely different things and give your grandmother an impromptu lesson on the top/bottoms dynamics of the modern gay relationship. Whether these queries are born from rancor, ignorance or just genuine misguided curiosity is moot. Just be ready to answer them.

If you haven’t spilled the beans yet, this is definitely not the weekend to do so. There will probably be so much else going on that the moment will not get the quiet reflection it deserves. Even if you come down to dinner sporting nail polish, eyeliner and a tampon string hanging out of your ass, its to everyone’s benefit that you still make small talk about your Canadian girlfriend.

4. Figure Out Which of Your Relatives Will Irresponsibly Get Drunk or High With You.

Almost everyone has a family member that also wants to alleviate the holiday stress through ill-timed substance abuse. It could be your pierced and tattooed cousin, your black sheep uncle or your grandpa who is furtively pouring wine into his colostomy bag. The drinking can happen throughout the course of the day, but it is best you not smoke until after dinner. You’ll need your conversational skills, plus munchies and a 30-pound turkey are a bad combination. The latter activity is to be strictly avoided if you have to drive anyone home or help carry your wheelchair bound great-uncle up a very steep flight of stairs (though that’s a story for another day.)

5: For The Love of God, Don’t All Use The Same Bathroom.

I can’t stress this one enough. My parent’s house has three bathrooms. Two are located upstairs, the other is directly between the kitchen and the dining room. Guess which one requires a hazmat suit come 5 o’clock? You can’t combine the delicate Jewish digestive system with four pounds of mashed rutabaga and not expect there to be some problems. One year my sister started screaming “Is there no common decency?” because every single one of us had visited the commode before the meal was even cooked. You can’t give those family recipes the time and attention they deserve when the fires of Mordor are emanating from your throne room.

6. If You Have to Masturbate, Do It Somewhere Discrete.

Many of us are stranded at home with neither significant others nor bedroom doors that lock. While a moment of onanism can be a wonderful stress reliever, it will also be seered permanently into the memory of whichever family member happens to walk in on it. Unless you want the task of explaining your sister-in-law’s newfound hysterical blindness, keep your hairy palms to yourself until you’re sure its safe. My bed is 100% out of the question, as my
room shares a wall with both of my sisters’, so I usually end up taking care of business in the aforementioned (and thoroughly aired-out) downstairs bathroom. Its cold down there, and extremely un-erotic, but that’s a small price to pay for piece of mind and a moment of relief.

So there you have it. Six foolproof (and I hope not overly puerile) ways to make it through the weekend. Feel free to share some hints of your own and let me know if any of mine were helpful.

This Friday’s party will be different from our regular CRACK shows cuz it isn’t a full-scale production. Instead, it’s just a great chance for everyone to dress up in costumes and celebrate one of the best holidays! In addition to showing our new short film, we’re gonna throw in DJs, dancing, spooky movies, prizes, and even a special performance-all for free.

Check out the trailer for Loopy Summer Day and come celebrate Halloween with CRACK this Friday.

The CRACK Halloween Costume Party
Friday, October 31, 9 PM to 2 AM
Duplex Diner, 2004 18th Street NW
More details

“What Would Summer Do?” is The New Gay’s advice column. If you have a question for Miss Camp, send it to her at wwsd@thenewgay.net.

Hello desperate readers! This week marks my two-month anniversary with TNG. It also marks the one-year anniversary of TNG (Kudos TNG!). And it marks the 25th anniversary of the Internet. Once again, I’m the youngest and prettiest (Kudos Me!).

It’s been oodles of fun doling out juicy nuggets of drunken wisdom to readers like “Wandering Eye in DC,” who writes this week about his love life woes:

Dear Summer,

I’m a gay man with a partner. He and I have been together for over a year, and we’re very happy. Our sex life is fun, but I’m starting to get bored having sex just with him. At the same time, I don’t want to share him with anyone. Any ideas what I should do?

Wandering Eye in DC


Dear Wandering Eye,

It sounds like you’re in a pickle that many couples face at some point. At least you made it to the one-year mark before the itch set in. Many gay male couples start to feel the itch half way through their first date.

But don’t fret. Summer can help. I came up with three different options that you can choose from:

Option #1. Spicy Monogamy
You may be surprised to learn that I’m a fan of monogamy, though I don’t judge anyone who sticks his finger in another light socket, as long as all the sockets are in on the arrangement. Monogamy might sound like the safe option, but it doesn’t have to be the boring option. Just take a tip from Ginger, Sporty, Baby, Scary, and Posh, and “Spice Up Your Life!” Your sex life that is.

You need to nip your sexual ennui in the bud before it gets out of hand. Think of your strongest, unrealized sexual fantasy. Now think of one that doesn’t include me, silly! One that involves only you and your partner. Are you having trouble? Can’t think of any spicy sex acts, here are a few ideas to get your creative juices flowing:

Spanking, biting, and hair pulling
Sex toys
Light to heavy bondage (remember to have a safe word)
Shaving
Eproctophilia (aka fart fetish)

The next time you and your partner are alone with plenty of time to spare, ask your partner to try one of those or anything else you can think of.

Option #2: Cheat
Some people will encourage you to throw convention and caution to the wind and to cheat on your boyfriend! Why not? You only live once! Actually, I’m in agreement with those people, but only if you both are permitted to dibble dabble! Like the gay adage says, “What’s good for the gander, is good for the other gander.” (BTW, a gander is a male goose).

You said that you’re not willing to share your bf with anyone else. In fairness, that rules out cheating for either of you, as well as threesomes. I guess I won’t sit by the phone and wait for your call…boo-hoo!

But, if you decide to cheat, be sure you have a stockpile of antibiotics and alibis. Be warned, when you grow bored of the trysts and come down off the euphoric high of pursuing strangers, your partner may not be there for you. It’s very important to weigh the consequences before you engage in foreign fellatio!

Option #3: Date a Unicorn
Though remarkably similar to option #2, there is a difference. It’s a unicorn! Even your partner couldn’t get mad at you for dating a magical and mythological beast. I mean how many people actually see a unicorn, let alone date one! According to Matthew Inman, a noted unicorn specialist, if you’re lucky enough to date a unicorn you’ll experience joy unlike anything you’ve ever imagined! Read the Ten Reasons It Would Rule to Date a Unicorn.

Plus, if you don’t mind sharing your boyfriend with a unicorn, you could combine Option #1 with Option #3. The three of you could get up to some pretty hot fun, including a little Eproctophilia with glitter!

xoxo
Summer

P.S. Don’t forget to become a fan of Summer Camp on facebook.

“What Would Summer Do?” is the TNG advice column. Contact Summer Camp with your questions at wwsd@thenewgay.net.

Dear Summer,

Last weekend, I went to an 80’s party. They played some really great music that took me back to my new wave days, but they also played some terrible songs that I cannot get out of my head. The worst offender is Sheena Easton’s, “Sugar Walls.” I’m not kidding, from the moment I wake up in the morning until I close my eyes at night, I find myself humming that god-awful melody. At work, I’ve caught myself singing it under my breath during meetings. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to be singing these lyrics in front of my boss: “Blood races to your private spots, let’s me know there’s a fire!” I cannot get it out of my head! What Would Summer Do?

Stuck on Repeat

Dear Stuck,

OMG! You must be really old. I’ve never even heard of that song.

Okay, I’m lying. I know that song, and to be honest, I LOVE IT! I draw inspiration from it. The only person I know who hated that song as much as you do is Tipper Gore, one of the Washington Wives who co-founded the ridiculous Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC).

Sugar Walls, composed by Prince, cracked the top ten pop charts back in 1984, had a fierce video featuring Miss Easton in a neon yellow blouse with matching earrings, and even made the PMRC Filthy Fifteen. I wish I could put that on my resume.

For the readers who weren’t even born in 1984, check out the following video, courtesy of Back Porch Videos (btw, this is one of my favorite YouTube channels):

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oiJElPRnz54&hl=en&fs=1]

So, wasn’t that just delicious? Do you feel like you need to brush your teeth? Eat your heart out Madonna…with your derivative hard candy. Sheena was the original Sticky and Sweet chanteuse. (An extra ten points to the first person who correctly identifies the artist and name of the song that began to play at the end of the video. Another oldie, but goodie).

So, What Would Summer Do if she had Sugar Walls playing in her head all day? Nothing! With the economy in the crapper, the possibility that the Mummy and the Mommy running the U.S., and a nasty herpes outbreak, I’ll take Sheena’s sugary walls any day. Like Sheena sang, “Come spend the night inside my Sugar Walls.”

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xm_xK3kioyE&hl=en&fs=1]

Summer Camp will return to TNG next Wednesday. Be sure to send your questions to her at wwsd@thenewgay.net.

Summer,

I’m a woman with a male friend who is trying very valiantly to hook up with/date me. He’s a great guy and I’d definitely date him, but from day one I’ve thought he was gay because of his mannerisms. Plus he’s even said that he’s 10-percent gay—but only 10 percent. I’ve never heard a solidly straight guy say that.

So my question is, how do I find out if he’s gay or straight without going down the courting road and potentially being the girl he has the “oh shit, I’m actually gay” moment with?

Thanks!
Mollie S.

Dear Mollie S.,

That’s a doozie of a question that deserves a thoughtful answer. Let me put on my thinking cap (and wig). There. Now, I’m better prepared to answer your plea for Summer’s advice.

Let’s take your question bit by bit:

You write that your friend is trying very valiantly to hook up with/date you. I didn’t know what “valiantly” meant, so I looked it up. I thought it had something to do with slipping you some Valium in order to make the courting process a little easier. That’s how most of my dates begin. But, I learned that it means “boldly” or “fearlessly.” That’s a good sign. It means that he’s really interested in you. In fact, if you want to know What Summer Would Do, I’d go for it. Enjoy the hot sex with the 9:1 bisexual hottie, and put a notch in your belt if it doesn’t work out.

But it sounds like you’re not looking for an easy roll in the hay or an STD, so let’s delve a little deeper.

You think he’s gay based on mannerisms and his own declaration about his gay/straight composition. I’d discourage you from basing your Nancy Drew detective work solely on mannerisms—though they sometimes reveal the truth, we need real proof. His admission regarding his gay-straight ratio is probably a little more reliable. Maybe you should just date him. Would it be that bad if, once every ten days, he went out and sucked a little dick? You could arrange your own little spicy dalliance on the side or get a pedicure or read to the blind on the days when he’s “pre-cock-upied.”

But it sounds like you’re not looking for a guy who’s gonna order a side order of Vienna sausage now and then. You need to know if this guy is gay or not.

I just did a search for online gay tests, and found one that was developed by some really smart people who must be professional researchers because they have their own Web site. I hear that Web sites are expensive these days, so it’s got to be legitimate, right? The next time you plan on meeting up, suggest that he come to your place. Leave your Interwebs browser open to the Gay-Test and when he notices it; encourage him to take the test—as a joke, of course. The results are super-scientific, and you’ll have your answer.

But if you feel like the test results aren’t conclusive enough, we’ll need something more definitive.

Try posting a fake M4M ad on Craigslist and spy on him. I’ve trapped many of my cheating mens this way. I cannot divulge my personal technique as it is a trade secret, but if your loverboy is in the closet, there is no doubt that he’s trolling around on CL looking for some easy hookups. Just post a fake ad with a really hot body pic and stats. Get one of your gay guy friends to coach you on the kind of verbiage that lures the curious boys—it usually includes phrases like, “chill,” “kick back with some brews,” “my girlfriend is out of town,” and “watch some straight porn.” If he’s gay, sooner or later, his face pic will end up in your inbox.

But you sound like a very nice person with a real problem … Let me see if I can be sincere. How about this…

Tell him that you like him. Ask him to be honest with both you and himself about his feelings. Tell him that you’ll accept him either way, but that you deserve an honest answer about what he’s looking for in life. And, if you feel that you’re not getting a sincere response, I’d suggest you move on and put your own ad on Craigslist.

XOXO,
Summer Camp

Happy Hump Day Readers!

It seems that many of you are seeking my hygienic advice. And since I’m an (un)natural beauty, I’d be delighted to help you experience fresher, longer-lasting, mintier lives!

Dear Summer,

The humidity, heat, and saltwater of a summer in Provincetown has left my hair dry and riddled with split ends. What’s a gurrrl to do?

Brittle from the Beach

Dear Brittle,

Try this simple home remedy. Add a few drops of lavender oil to a tablespoon of warm (not boiling) castor oil. [Note: Castor oil can usually be found in the pharmacy section, sold as a laxative—it’s heavenly]. Apply the mixture to the ends of your hair. Then wrap your hair with plastic wrap and cover with a warm towel. I like to warm my towels in the microwave because you can toss in a bag of popcorn, too. Leave the oil, plastic wrap, and towel on your head for at least 30 minutes. If you opted to make the microwave popcorn, sit back and watch an episode of your favorite TV show. When it’s over, shampoo your hair twice using cool water. Say hello to lustrous locks!

Or you can do what I do, buy a new wig.

Love,

Summer

Dear Summer,

I hit the gym almost every day. I love to do my cardio on a specific elliptical trainer. My problem is that a man with rank body odor always happens to be on the trainer next to mine. It’s disgusting. What should I do?

Sensitive Smeller

Dear Sensitive,

Hmm…that’s a tough one. I have to say that I like a little bit of odor on my mens. I’m not talking chopped onions and pickles all shoved up in the armpits; rather, that sweet smell that all of us emit now and then. But it sounds like you’re describing someone with overactive stink glands.

If you’re like me, you carry a portable spotlight with you wherever you go. [It’s a great way to attract paparazzi]. So, just dab a bit of oil of clove, peppermint, or eucalyptus on the cool light bulb. When you turn on the spotlight, the scent will drift throughout the room. And you’ll look super important, too.

Love,

Summer

Dear Summer,

I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but two days ago, I tried to wax my butthole. I used an extra strength all-over body wax that you heat up and apply to your skin. I followed the instructions, but when I started to pull the strip from my backside, I couldn’t do it. It hurt sooo much. Now, I have a piece of hard wax that I can’t get rid of. What do I do???

Stuck in a hairy situation

Dear Stuck,

OMG! Let me start by saying that I’m not a medical professional, so take my advice with a grain of salt. Here is What Summer Would Do—Get really drunk, pass out, wake up, drink some more, put an ad on Craigslist seeking a sadist, invite him/her over, and instruct him/her to rip that hunk of wax off your crack!

Love,

Summer

Have a problem? Need my advice? Send your desperate pleas for help to wwsd@thenewgay.net and don’t forget to become a fan of Summer Camp on facebook.

Hello readers and welcome to a new TNG feature, “What Would Summer Do?,” an advice column for desperados like you. Before we get started, I feel that I should disclose a few things:

1. I’m not a licensed therapist
2. I’m not a journalist of any sort
3. I’m an overly-judgmental Pisces

But, gentle reader; don’t let these trivial details discourage you from seeking my opalescent pearls of wisdom. Even though we’ll never meet (because I’m a superstar celebrity and you’re not), I care deeply about you and your woes. Plus, I’m dying to tell you what I would do in your desperate situation.

Okay kids, here we go.

[I must admit that the following is not from an *actual* email sent to TNG; rather the youngster in question approached me while I was buying beef jerky at a service station in the mid-west.]

Summer,

I’m a 15 year-old guy who came out at the end of my sophomore year in high school. I live in a small town in Nebraska, so it’s been a little hard. Some of the other boys teased me, and I’m nervous about starting my junior year next month. I’d like my classmates to respect me. What should I do?

Teased in Republican City, NE

Dear Teased,

First of all, super sorry about the name of your city. As far as gaining your classmates’ respect, here are three possible things that Summer would do.

Do #1. Just like Suede on Project Runway Season 5, Summer sometimes refers to herself in the third person. Summer has noticed that this increases the level of respect from peers and non-peers alike. The mere utterance of my name in the third person makes me seem relevant and famous. Try the following scenario on your first day of school. Remember to substitute your own name for mine, duh!

“Hi, y’all, Summer is super happy to be back in school.”
“Hey, Summer thinks you’re sitting in her seat.”
“No, Summer doesn’t want to sit on your face, why would you say that?”
“Yes, Summer did go back-to-school shopping, thanks for asking.”
“Umm, no, Summer didn’t buy this outfit at the Dollar Store.”
“How did you like the feeling of Summer’s fist in your face, dickwad?”

Do #2. Start wearing high heels to school. I know what you’re thinking, but hear me out. The next time some hic douchebag harasses you, step on his foot, donkey-kick him in the groin, or pull a “Single White Female,” and drive the heel into his eyeball. Promise he won’t do it again.

Plus heels make you taller. Often people respect taller people. When I’m not wearing heels, I’m only 5’2”. When I wear heels, people turn their heads, which I always assume is out of respect.

Do #3. Start a business. People respect businesspeople, especially gay businesspeople. David Geffen, Ellen Degeneres, Donald Trump, Tom Cruise, Tom Ford, Cindy McCain—all well-respected gay businesspeople. If you’re enrolled in an occupational studies class, even better—you can get respect and a good grade.

Selecting the type of business is trickly pickly, though. Do something you’re good at. I’m really good at giving head, so I run a 25-cent blowjob stand on the weekends. I usually make enough to satisfy my craving for Snack Pack pudding. Make a list of your skills and then find a way to market them to your classmates.

That’s what Summer would do. Try one. I promise that your classmates will shower you with well-deserved respect. They will listen to you and sincerely care about what you’re saying. Have fun being class president, I’m sure you’re going to be a W-I-N-N-E-R!

Summer wishes you all the best!

Summer Camp

Name: Hi, my name is Summer Camp, but you can call me Trash.

Hometown: Ten years ago, I moved to DC from Seattle and have been enjoying the sticky and sultry summers ever since.

Occupation: I host a variety show called CRACK. Sometimes I make movies like Cherry on Top and The Passion of the Camp. And now, I’m a part-time advice columnist…thanks TNG!

Likes: I go crazy for Chapstick, gold, free beer, fan mail, and glitter.

Dislikes: I can’t stand cold sores, ingrown toenails, losing my place in my pole-dance routine, and Jesus.

Contact: If you are desperate and are seeking some advice, send me an email at What Would Summer Do (wwsd@thenewgay.net) and your submission will be added to the cesspool of questions. You can also become my fan on Facebook.