Eric Scott Matthews

now they're even killing each other off!

All the politicy and gay-crazed blogs are talking about this crazy speculation, and honestly I have nothing to say, but still want to link it, because, not gonna lie, I love it republican gay sex scandals. Sure there’s the Larry Craig thing, bathrooms and all that, but for some reason the double-homo-cide, possible republican gay escort scandal thing is more stare-at-the-white-bronco TV for me. 

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And as far as all this controversy about people giving republicans a harder time and more attention for these kinds of scandals. That’s bull. Barney Frank still gets a hard time for his prostitute scandal from decades ago. And the reason people didn’t vote him out of office is because he fessed up, and wasn’t cheating on some wife for years and years, the scandal wasn’t about screwing or attempting to screw underage guys (which is legally rape, a point people seem to always forget). Oh and he doesn’t run around demonizing gays and trying to vote away our rights. Simply put, on this issue, these republicans are hypocrites and clearly think of themselves above the laws they are trying to build. 

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The first time there is a gay sex scandal with a republican who is out of the closet or supports gay rights in some real way I’ll back the hell off. Until that mythological politician appears I remain tickled pink in watching the republican party collapse under the weight of its members arrogance and hypocrisy.

e

P.S. and I LOVE that even Conservocrites like Tucker Carlson (who should know better) are so frustrated they are doing shit like confessing to gay bashings and crap to make sure everyone knows how "straight" they are.  Delish!

Saturday: The Kiss, Crowbars and Bathrooms, Kathy Griffin, Donna Summer, Xanadu, Too Many Guys Named Chris

To read about Gay Disney in order start with Thursday then Friday.

I didn’t hear what they said, but the Latino guy left pretty quickly. Soon as he was out of the room Nick starts Ranting.  “Open? I don’t do nothing that’s open.”  Apparently the Latino was proposing a threesome or trying to explain away the boyfriend I didn’t notice till they were leaving.  I tried to hide a smile. 
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We chat across his friend Alex a little.  I meet Mario when he finally wakes up.  Dance around a little and move to the table where we scavenged some pizza. I keep wondering if I should try to talk to him more. It hits 4:30. 5.  They start talking about a cab. I volunteer to walk them out.
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Then Nick stops. Looks at me.  “Im walking you to your room first.”

Friday: Tropical Storm "Mary", Parliment House, Cracked-Out Party, The Awesome Redhead

The official pool parties started on Friday. Blue day at the Royal Plaza. There were little games meant to get everyone psyched up and in the water. There were boys. There were the trolls that love them. And there was dancing Mr. Bean, who boogied his slow motion strip tease each day in front of the speakers, shedding layers of outfits that meticulously matched whatever color wristband was assigned for the day.
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Let me take a second to explain the pool parties. There are two main host hotels for boys at gaydays, both competing for the title of “Host Hotel”. One is where all the hot circuit guys go. Two pools and scores of decorations. Porn stars, Hot boys as far as the eye can see and the attitude to go with it.
We were at the other one.
That is not to say that ours was worse in some way, in fact, overall, I’m glad we were at the lower key place and could still visit the hotties at the Buena Vista. I suppose it’s for the same reason that I prefer dbar in Dorchester to Club Café in the South End. There were definitely hot guys at our hotel, but none of the attitude. Well very little.

Avoiding Beer Part One: Guy Felta Guy

On the pod: It's a Sin-- The Pet Shop Boys

Yes I am a cliché. I don’t like beer, never have. But this weekend beer trapped me everywhere I went. Well almost. Where there’s a queer, there’s a way.
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First at the Guy Felta Guy annual faux fraternity party in my hood: It’s probably my favorite party of the year, partially because it has a cover donated to a local charity each year, It’s stumble distance from my place, and most importantly the party is just the right balance. It is the porridge that goldilocks ate.  Less trashy than the larger twinky house parties littering the south end  and yet not nearly as stuffy  as those parties by older, usually well-heeled older gay men where I always feel underdressed no matter what I wear. Of course, being a faux fraternity party complete with a different theme each year, Guy Felta Guy is a kegger. A few years ago my boyfriend at the time, a college kid— I know you’re shocked— convinced me to do my first keg stand. Seriously, where was I during my own college years when these parties were going on? Oh yeah, I was that kid in writing kid in college that actually spent too much time writing.
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i guess sometimes you just need a distraction

I decided to wait a while to publish this one. STC and I broke up this weekend and ironically it turned out to be pretty a stellar time despite the way we kicked it off. 
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I blame a perfect storm of weather, semi-spontaneous events, my new roommate moving in and just an overall frivolity in gay Boston for distracting me from the stuff with STC. I guess sometimes you just need a distraction.

Instant Boyfriend-

Just add anxiety.
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I have a friend. There are so many. He has a new beau, well a guy he is seeing, only he is not actually seeing him till Friday. And he just told me he could go either way with it. It might just fade. He is not too upset that they go a week without seeing each other and frequently days without even talking or instant messaging. 
They are doomed.
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Projection

If I my Ipod weren’t still broken, I would have put on Fidelity by Regina Spektor as the song for this entry. But alas I haven’t even gotten the chance to check into the Mac store in the past few weeks.
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And this is even with STC out of town for the week. He had a blast, apparently, and came back to me all tan and, of course, fashioned up with clothes I didn’t recognize. The first time away from a new boyfriend can be full of anxiety, jealousy… and projection. One thing I have noticed— maybe this is a guy thing, or maybe it is a gay thing— is that the most jealous of creatures tend to be the ones more likely to cheat.
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I’m not saying it’s a done deal by any means if your boyfriend is the jealous type; I do, however, think that people tend to see the world as much like themselves. You can tell a lot about people by what they think of other people. Like my friend who never trusts anyone’s motives; he always has an ulterior motive. Or my Manhunt obsessed friend who doesn’t hesitate to call everyone around him a "whore" with the kind of shrill judgement that only the jealous can ever seem to achieve. Or me, who gave STC such a hard time about going to Springbreak with all those manskanks around and then I found myself at Dbar on Saturday night tempted and in a little danger. Don’t worry guys, I was a good boy, despite the fact that Mr. Hottie has the whole bar enthralled to him. But part of the reason someone can say "no" in that kind of situation, drunk or not, is because you need to be aware of your own weaknesses and temptations.
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Both psychologists and Taoist philosophy back me up on this one. Jungians talk much about the shadow self: the part of ourselves that we downplay and hide but that also lurks within our psyches  ready to reach out in ways we’re not often aware of . They tell us that when we meet someone who we detest at first sight that what we really hate is something too similar within ourselves. I have found this to be true in some specific cases lately. When I tease my one friend about always dating 19 year olds, I try not to think about the fact that my last two boyfriends have been 21. Taoists seem to understand this right away. The concept is even found in the Yin Yang symbol, which represents balance, but also suggests that in every thing is the seed of its opposite.
esm

Perfectionism Kills Creative Spirit: full story after the jump

I’m not a perfectionist by nature. That’s the real difference between people who write and people who edit. Unfortunately few editors in the world of book publishing actually edit anymore; it’s left up to us writers. And for me, the stifling perfectionism required for so much editing has become just another paralyzing bit of venom coursing through my creative heart.
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Ok that and all the technical writing I’m now doing at work. Recently I had all the excitement of learning a new piece of software for a work project ripped out from beneath me along with some criticism of this long delayed side project. Ironically this project was the single most exciting thing going on at work, the one thing I actually wanted to work overtime on. Only my hours are getting watched more now, and of course I’m getting busier and busier— notice my lack of blog entries. So it’s frustrating. I am officially frustrated with writing.
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Hopefully this will break soon. I’ll find an antidote or better yet build up an immunity. My next entry will be more thrilling. I promise.
esm

P.S. There is No Jump

Valentines Day: The Drama (sorta)

So Kathy Griffin was awesome. 98% new material, packed house at the Symphony. Makes me wonder if she can really hold on to that whole D-List title much longer. I won’t be shocked if she gets her own sitcom in the next few years.
It made for a fun if not so romantic Valentines evening, which was fine by me. Well fine until we sat down and two empty seats away drama followed.
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First of all Save the Cheerleader is a "friendly" guy. So in small town gay Boston—and the Kathy Griffin concert is about as gay as it gets— between the two of us we are bound to run into a gaggle of people either of us has been, um, “friendly” with. So, of course, one of the guys in the dynamic duo that sat near us was Matt, a guy STC has been friendly with in the past. I’m acquainted with Matt and I like him, but it’s always bugged me the way he calls my infamous ex “the most manipulative guy I know” with a kind of reverential tone of voice.

Valentines Day Snow Storm

I brought an extra pair of socks and txted my boyfriend to wish him a happy St. Valentine’s day on my way into the office. It was ghosty when I walked off the stair onto the floor and into my cube. The snow. Drivers are shoveling out or sliding all over the road. The T was less crowded than I expected. Many are sleeping in, is my guess. Those few here in the office are already complaining. It really isn’t that bad out.
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Tonight Save the Cheerleader (yes, he’s the new boyfriend) and I are going to see Kathy Griffin with a gaggle of friends, most of them dateless. Date or no date, we are all pretty stoked about it. For me though, finally, deciding to be exclusive with someone after putting that decision off for a month has me thinking about the odd way we classify ourselves into dating, married and single. About this holiday.

Every year I am baffled by Valentine's Day. It's a simple holiday, one of the few that still is: you celebrate love or even lust— it’s all good to Cupid. No family calls me for a month in advance to berate me, “when are you coming home for Valentine’s Day”. Sure, CVS is all red and candified, but they don’t play Valentine’s day songs on the radio in EVERY store like they do for Christmas reminding the lonely and the resentful at every turn. There is no parade nor endless Valentine’s day specials on TV. No special bird you are supposed to eat, or cooking for 30 people, or being alone in your condo cooking for yourself and your dog while most of the rest of the population is eating dinner with 30 people. Sure, a lot of people are coupled off, but in our society just as many aren’t.  It is not just you.
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