A Virgin Who Can't Drive

I don't understand how you could walk this streets let alone this world. Like this one girl in my art class from Russia named Oksana, who is like a mythical human being based on her life expiereinces similar to a 12 year old boy. Although she has a love for the women, she has never seen a vagina. She's seen a penis but freaked out, so we know she is definitely a Leslie or just stupid. So she's a virgin, she's never smoked pot, she never taken an aderol, she actually LIKES our art class with our heinous and creepy professor, and worse of all....she's a vegetarian....I don't know how this girl is alive but God Bless Her, God Bless us EVERYONE except for Donald Trump.

The Top 10 Songs That Made Me A Gay Child

As everyone but my Roman Catholic grandparents, mexicans, and freshman girls at my school can see, I am indeed of the flaming homosexual kind. As hard as I try to seem masculine with my tastes in Star Wars, Batman, The Eagles, Family Guy, and Tim Tebow there is unfortunately no hiding my princess like charm.And people are such morons thinking that you are "Born This Way" but baby, let me tell you that is not true. I think growing up with the Disney movies of the 90's and a mother who would clean our kitchen to Donna Summer I have become gayer as my life went on. When i was four years old I would pop the collar of my polo and pretend I was Snow White. I liked to bat my eyes, curtsy, and make my red and blue Power Rangers have sex. yes I was a gay ass child. And look at me now, I am the gayest man since Hilary Clinton and I blame my childhood. Mostly the music I grew up with, so to kick off my series of top 10s, here is the Top 10 Songs That Made Me A Gay Child

10. It’s All Coming Back To Me Now- Celine Dion

9. Vogue- Madonna

8. Barbie Girl- Aqua

7. Tomorrow from Annie

6. Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats from...you guessed it Cats

5. Material Girl- Madonna

4. Spice Up Your Life- The Spice Girls

3. …Baby One More Time- Britney Spears

2. Over The Rainbow from The Wizard of Oz

1. Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid

Love is But A Song...Sung By Rebecca Black Part 1

Love Is But A Song…Sung By Rebecca Black

By Chris Calfa

         Everybody knows that love sucks more than a stripper on Twink Tuesday at Splash Club NYC. Some people make the dumbest mistakes of their life like lie about their age (making themselves 7 years younger), moving in with their significant other after dating for an inconsecutive 10 months, or losing their virginity at 15 years old in the back of a car in their middle school parking lot.

         Yes my friends have had some of the dumbest relationships, but I whose longest has only been a month can truly say that in my 30 months as a fully out homosexual that I have had some interesting experiences while dipping in the dating pool, and it’s okay to share them since I’m not obligated to be friends with any of these guys on Facebook…I’m pretty sure half of them don’t have one.

         I don’t like to say I’m extremely good looking, but I’m going to say it anyway. And I don’t know what it is that has all the weirdoes, creeps, freaks, criminals, black guys, 50 year olds, and lesbians so infatuated with me. Trust me I’ve attempted to ask out attractive men, but they are all either dating, idiotic, or straight.

         There have been many dates where I wondered, “What was I on to say yes to this guy”. There was this one guy who was so obsessed with France and French people that I wanted to hurl and say “Au Revoir” before he made me walk while I was very hung over from 60^th and Lexington all the way to fucking Union Square, in flip flops. Worst part was he said he does not like Disney Movies. Then there was this other guy who said he could only date virgins…so basically he either thought I was 11 years old or a Jonas brother. And there was some guy who I met at a Ricky’s looking for a Halloween costume whose name was Bob.

         For gay men it’s hard to meet people in civilization so the best way to meet that special someone is on a sleazy dating website. As I watched the success of one of my best friends from college I realized if HE could find love maybe I can too! So I decided to join OkCupid, I’ve had a few dates from there but nothing worth talking about…except for this one.

         Well first of all, this guy was messaging me but in the way a second grader would show his sign of affection, by being a total asshole. And of course being the desperate fucker I am I decided to respond. And I was probably drunk that night and he somehow got my number. And that was the beginning of a very small chapter in my life called “27 Minutes in Hell”. By the title you should be able to tell tat the date only lasted 27 minutes. And here’s the chronology of it.

         So this was back in December of 2010 when I has hair similar to Ariel, but the people on OkCupid didn’t know that. So one night I’m out with my friend Evan, his boyfriend of the time, and the boyfriend’s best friend from home. I get a text message from this asshole from OkCupid, who we will call “DipShit”. He said something about getting out of work early and that he’d want to see me. Now granted, I couldn’t tell what he looked like in his picture so this could’ve been a good opportunity to find out what he looked like. All three of them encouraged me to meet him up. We devised a plan in case it was or wasn’t working, either way, that they’d call me exactly a half hour after meeting up with him and say it’s an “emergency”, which to us normally involves Britney Spears.

         I was in Hell’s Kitchen and he told me he worked for a Broadway show, and being an aspiring costume designer I thought if I slept wit this guy I could get some good connections in the industry. I have too high of expectations. At least I didn’t have to take a subway or a bus to see DipShit, because he was not worth $2.25. It was about 8PM on a Saturday, in December, in Times Square. Was this fucker trying to sufficate me with misery? I think so. First of all Times Square is so annoying on a normal day, let alone on a weekend night right before holidays. I don’t know anybody who lives in this damn city who thinks that’s a sensible idea. After going the wrong way and cutting through millions of idiotic tourists who stopped every two steps to take a picture of fucking pavement and feeling like I’m drowning both physically and mentally I finally got to the fucking theater. After standing in front of the theater for a good 5 minutes like a schmuck, I get a text from DipShit saying he’s at the Bank of America, which was in the direction I came from. DipShit was really starting to piss me off and I haven’t even seen him yet. At 8:07 PM I see a figure wearing one of those terrible hats with the fussy thing on top as if we’re from South Park and it’s socially acceptable to wear one of those. Of course it turned out to be DipShit who had a striking resemblance to Steve Carrel. Strike 1. He doesn’t even say “Hi” or “You look really pretty” he just says “Let’s go to Starbucks”. Now I live by Chelsea Handler’s philosophies and I believed this philosophy way before I knew who she was- Coffee doesn’t lead to shit. If you really want me to like you you’re going to have to buy me about 4 Jack and Cokes.

         So I said “I’m not a big coffee drinker”. He didn’t seem to care. So I asked him what he did for the show, thinking he had some say in something there. His response was “I’m an usher”. Strike 2. In the Starbucks was “A Charlie Brown Christmas” CD, and I commented on how cute it was. He looked at me as if I had seven heads as he chomped down on his scone. I naturally didn’t get anything from that nasty place…also they had no Mini Sparkle Doughnuts. He asked me why my hair was red and I explained to him on how much I love The Little Mermaid. In his head he was probably thinking- Strike .5. He then had the balls to say to me that Ariel is lame. Strike 2.5. This ass muncher was going down.

         But then he asked me if I wanted to get something to eat. I said yes thinking I was getting a semi-classy meal paid for me by DipShit. That fantasy dissolved as we headed towards a quaint little shop titled “99 Cent Pizza”. He ordered us 2 slices of regular pizza, as I was texting an S.O.S. to Evan, DipShit tapped my shoulder and said “Give me a dollar.” “Why?” I asked. “Because I’m really low on cash.” DipShit was definitely one weird Jew or just a cheapskate. But of course how much money can you have when you’re a 26-year-old usher. I reluctantly gave him the dollar I wanted to shove up his throat along with four Tic Tacs and a Zolpidem. He asked me how the pizza was and I truthfully said “It’s slammin’.” “Huh?” “It’s something me and my friends say when something’s really good.” He looked at me with eyes that a Penn State coach would give to the cast of Super 8 and said “That seems more complicated than just saying ‘good’.” You know what, the word “slammin’” may be more complicated that “good”, but using that word in the way I wanted to have his head and the curb interact with eachother was way more simple. When we walked out of the pizza place he said “Okay, see you later.” And walked away. I stood there for about 2 minutes and started to laugh like an audience member of “Who’s Line Is It Anyway?” when the old guy isn’t on. I looked at the time on my phone and it was 8:34PM. The date was 27 minutes. I called Evan’s boyfriend and he answered with “How’s the date going? Do need me to call in?” “No, I’m coming over right now and I need all of you to have sympathy for me.”