The city from my view.

A pulse on a vibrant Megalopolis.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Prince Albert, Mighty Chieftain

He comes from a faraway land. A land on the edge of a massive lake. It's a strange land where the rivers are contaminated beyond redemption, the lake poisoned as well. The streets are hard there, life is an edgy issue at best. He is Wicca, having assorted tattoos to verify his belief in nature worship. So be it, he ain't no fucking Christian, so he can't be that bad. 

The weather is incredible here. Cool in the morning and at night the fog creeps over the Santa Monica mountains to cool the valley with a thick cloud cover. By eleven, the skies open blue, the gray clouds now a puffy white that float away. Not at all what last year brought, hot followed by more hot until it got real hot. I'm sure we'll get some of that at one point but for right now--it's Camelot for queers of Gaza.

Prince Albert helps with Wally a lot. It's been very nice for all of us and, I, for one, am very grateful. When I think about Golden Boy and his infantile behavior, I'm so glad to be rid of him for ever more. Maybe it's because of his leave that our weather has been so good, I don't know but what ever it is I do hope it keeps up. 

Friday, July 26, 2013

Peace Comes to Queer Gaza

After the removal of Golden Boy, Queer Gaza is once again at peace. Prince Albert has moved in and became part of our family. The windows in his room are opened to let in fresh air and cleanse the putrid smell of Golden Boy's colognes, facial masks and scented ass wipes. 

The Jews of Little Israel, received their bounty of grapes from our orchard. The Muslims of Little Iran got nothing since they have holed themselves up. We hear, on occasion, Farsi but for the most part, they stay indoors building bombs.

Our chickens have been laying eggs, the vegetable garden is producing squash, tomatoes, tomatillos and peppers. The hummingbirds come for nectar, the bees are pollinating and we can now rest in the patio with tea, coffee and the morning paper. All is well with the storm clouds behind us. 

Prince Albert made a wonderful birthday dinner for all of us. The celebration was a success with glasses full of wine and bellies full of chicken paprika. And now that the hangover has left, I can get back to my writing and garden.

Life is good in Queer Gaza once again.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Beware Of Queer Christians

One thing you can bet on, besides taxes and death, is if someone tells you they're queer and a Christian, they're a liar and thief. First off, a queer Christian is the same as someone who is in the Ku-Klux Klan and black. Why anyone would join a religion that wants you dead and in hell  shows in itself extreme self-loathing.

Golden Boy, was caught in a lie today. He already stole from us by taking wages for caring for Wally and then leaving on an extended vacation. He was going to Detroit for a week and to be back to remove his possessions but instead of doing that he lied, stating he was not in L.A. as yet. When I informed him that his belongings would be removed and placed in the garage by Thursday, his week had already passed when he should have been back, he suddenly appeared with a truck and friend to get his things. When asked about Detroit he said that he didn't say he was in Detroit just not in L.A.

So he took wages and gave no service. He's been here all along screwing with me, and if this asshole even thinks I would give him a recommendation, I would love to tell that person what a queer Christian really is. 


Thursday, July 18, 2013

Summer In Gaza

The grapes are full of color and taste. They hang from beneath the redwood trellis with temptation beckoning anyone to taste a grape or two. Their sweetness accentuates with time.

Queer Gaza had a warm July with the threat of thunderstorms and a good rain last month. Nice, I think, and who doesn't like a good thunderstorm with the threat of lightening heightening the trepidation of a thunder clap nearby.

Life is back to being happy again for us queers. Golden Boy sold his soul and is now in Purgatory. To bad. So sad. Bye-bye.  Dinner is being prepared by his replacement. A good dinner too, meatloaf with homemade ketchup, mashed potatoes and gravy. It's solid East Coast food. Made to stick to your innards when you're ready to set sail fighting storms for white whales.

Cocktails too. And company, and best of all, Wally has been doing better. We all went to the Hollywood Bowl the 16th and Wally stayed awake through the whole thing, with a big smile on his face. He has been going to the Hollywood Bowl since a teenager. The next day, he got up walked well, tried to talk and over all peppier.

Our friends like the new guy, the new guy likes our friends and Queer Gaza. And I think that's why it will all work out. New guy likes it here with us in Queer Gaza. He helps to defend our land against Little Israel on one side and Little Iran on the other. He is kindred in spirit and solid queer.

Monday, July 15, 2013

Gaza Takes In A Refugee

We have a new member, someone who appreciates a home, someone who is not a Princess and is a bit older. He's rough around the edges, but a man who has worked in bathhouses isn't afraid of the sight of shit. Gaza needed someone who would be here for Wally, to help me in his care, and though the man has tattoos, and came with bites from bed bugs from the flop house he stayed in, he not only helps with Wally, he cooks very well.

The man, who's name as yet to form, likes Queer Gaza. He sits in the garden and because we are land-lock between Little Israel and Little Iran, connects to friends on Facebook on his computer. He doesn't waste water or electricity, he is neat and good company. He doesn't drive a car nor does he want to. He walks. That old fashion method of transportation.

Funny thing about the Christian queer, Golden Boy, for all his dedication to Jesus' teachings he learned nothing from them. Self-centered, self-absorbed to the point that nothing matters to him but his own comfort and pleasure. I'm glad to be rid of him, but very said for Binky his cat. The cat has a home here, people here care for him, talk to him, make sure he has food, pay attention to him, and all that will end at the end of the month. 

One day we watched Binky follow Golden Boy to his room only to have the door shut on him before he could enter as well. Golden Boy never bothered to see if his cat wanted in. I have had to knock on Golden Boy's door to tell him his cat wanted in to eat, and maybe have a little attention, though I didn't say that, but hoped at least, while Golden Boy was applying face masks and doing his nails, he might turned to his cat and say, at least, "Hello."

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Muslim Brotherhood Captures Golden Boy

Golden Boy is history. Taken from us by the enticing wiles of hateful Muslims, Golden Boy is leaving Queer Gaza for a rich husband. Or should I say, the chances of a rich husband because the new beau is not rich yet. He comes from a rich family, and he has a job but he is not dripping in diamonds and gold as of today.

I'm actually glad the Muslim Brotherhood has taken him to their side. Glad to be rid of the drama and the constant demands for more and more Golden Boy made on me. People who revere wealth never have enough and Golden Boy 's appetite had no limits.

Wally and I have limits and I had reached mine some time ago with Golden Boy's demands. The Gaza Strip needs peace. The Jews on one side and the Muslims on the other have taken their toll on Queer Gaza with their constant bickering and fighting with us in the middle.

I hope that with devouring Golden Boy, the Muslim Brotherhood will be satiated, but I doubt that. And now, a new member of the household is with us. An Irishman from Cleveland, a good man that fell on desperate times and found his way to the Gaza Strip. He already has helped me with Wally and the household.

That's all the news that's fit to print from Queer Gaza. We are still here, still queer and still free.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Is There Life In The Gaza Strip?

Our annual fourth of July party is coming up. It is also the day Wally and I wed some five years ago when we had our open window of equality. But now, within those short years, the number of friends has dwindled dramatically. Most moved to other areas in their retirements, others have died and still others had made plans that day.

It's a strange feeling to pick up the phone and have just a few friends to call. There use to be so many more but that was a long time ago.

Still, there is life here in Gaza. The gardens of Queer Gaza are beautiful and abundant. A summer feel has taken hold of the land. That lazy-day touch in the weather with warm summer nights filled with the buzz of life all around. Pleasant too and with a cool summer drink made of 100 proof Southern Comfort poured over a glass of fresh mint leaves crushed on the bottom, with ice packed on top, and then fresh brewed sweet tea added, makes for a mighty fine lazy-day thirst quencher. Actually less quench and more punch but after a glass or two of the brew, who gives a shit if it's hotter than a firecracker outside.

Our vegetable garden has produced a bumper crop of pickling cucumbers. I have an entire cabinet now filled with assorted pickles. Dill, Bread & Butter, pickled peppers, pickled garlic and today, pickled shrimp. All but the shrimp grown right here on the estates of Queer Gaza. And the other day, Sunday, I had one of the most gastronomical events ever to occur here. The baseball game was on, followed by the Tour de France. A platter of crackers, braunschweiger, a good cheddar alongside homemade dill pickles to slice and place on top with ice cold beer to wash it down with. Heaven to eat each morsel of crisp cracker with a spread of creamy liver tastes with the sharp cut of a dill pickle makes my mouth water even now. And to kick back with a game and stuff yourself gives you a wee bit of paradise.

So yes, there is life in Gaza, still to this day.