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Zack’s Ramblings

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Well, folks, I’m done. After ten days of heart palpitations, sleepless nights and scraping my bowls for resin because near-unemployment (and living in DC) leaves me unable and unwilling to just buy more weed, I’m finally hitting the ol’ dusty trail. I wanted this post to be in before the weekend started and I wanted it to be long and poignant. I wanted it excepted in “Chicken Soup for the Alt-Fag Soul.” I wanted it to make you weep. But none of that ended up being possible, so I’m just going to tell you my final thoughts as I leave TNG.

Columns, Television, Zack's Ramblings »

Because, as per the commercial above, Bob Harper is gorgeous. A mere still photo of him plays up killer stubble, eyes like a May afternoon and the kind of Aryan ruggedness that makes my third leg get Reich hard. The commercial expands on that, offering us a golden vision of big tattoos, a gentle voice and the apparent ability to get his leg all the way up on an exercise bike without breaking a sweat or tearing an anal gland. Have I made it clear yet he’s cute? But cute guys are a dime-a-dozen on TV. Bob distinguishes himself by setting off an ambiguious, yet 12-alarm, activity warning on my gaydar.

Sex, Zack's Ramblings »

Here on TNG I complain. A lot. I complain with the frequency and intensity of a colicky infant watching an episode of Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia during a Columbia Heights 4th of July. So I try to scale back. Be positive. Write about things I like. Music, TV, Frank Kameny. But I can’t always do it. Some things in this world are abominations, brown smears down the fresh white sheets of gay life, and I can’t keep my mouth shut about them.

Silicone-based lube is one of those things.

Sexuality, Zack's Ramblings »

I woke up on the morning of March 23rd, 2003, and proclaimed to my friends “I’m tired of being a virgin. Tonight’s the night.” In the resulting severe case of “careful what you wish for” (and I’ll spare you all the gory details) I had clumsy, obtrusive, lucky-I-knew-where-to-put-it sex with a gorgeous, smart friend of mine who really deserved a better way to end her Saturday night. Though much about the event was unfortunate (on my part, to her chagrin) the only thing you really need to know is that I ended up sleeping in the condom and then slinking into a woman’s bathroom the next day to throw it out.

Columns, Television, Zack's Ramblings »

In short, anuses are gay! Or, at least, they’ve come to be. Bob’s Burgers was nice enough to conflate anuses with their standard usage: going to the bathroom. However, I’ve spent about 9 years living with the deluxe model and it’s very difficult not to think that I have a special relationship with a potentially gross part of the body that most people take for granted. I would’ve lost my virginity about five years earlier had I known my butt as anything other than the part of me that starts to get grungy after a long hot summer’s day.

Commentary, Zack's Ramblings »

I was not chased out of Paradise by flaming angels. Instead, I found them waiting for me in the world outside. “Paradise” was Results, my laid-back, fitness fostering, now-defunct gay gym. And the world outside is Mint, a nearbye workout facility to which I have since migrated. As I took my slow, wandering steps into the place — lured by no entrance fee and a major discount offered to the whole of the Results diaspora — I learned something interesting: There are gyms in this world that exist solely for straight people, and the few homos within their walls are very protective of their secret.

Columns, Sex, Zack's Ramblings »

There are two guys that go out together one night. Both flirt with the people they find attractive, both make out with a couple of them at the bar. Both stumble out together and start talking to a pair of attractive friends at the bar’s 3 am “sidewalk sale.” Both take one of the friends home and have sex. However, one of those guys is gay and the other is straight. How are their friends reactions going to differ?

Columns, Dating and Relationships, Zack's Ramblings »

: I had my purest moment of joy last week, that moment that lets you think “wow, maybe forever isn’t that scary.” The moment that, in a movie, would be underscored with twinkling lights and the perfect song, the moment when you know what love means. And when it happened I was sitting on the toilet.

Music, Zack's Ramblings »

This morning, Facebook was abuzz with disappointment about the latest lump of sequined coal to fall from Stephanie Germanotta’s meat diaper into our open ears. And by some blessed miracle, some divine intervention of truth and common sense, that buzz was not good.

Columns, Television, Zack's Ramblings »

We started at Season 6, where Detective Olivia Benson had just begun her slow transition from human superhero to immortal messiah figure. When we tuned in she was just a kick-ass woman who anchored a hit TV show while providing succor to every victim of sexual abuse in the greater Manhattan area. In short, someone I’d love to have on our side in DC. I was even brewing her as my next “New Gay Icon” for being a strong woman in a male dominated tv show/profession who also exudes sex-positivity and queer friendliness. Then the craziness started.