This week, please. I’d like to let the head honcho know that I’m going, and when I do that depends on you.

We’re currently at 2,867 comments. Number 3,000 gets the Nano; that means we need 133 more comments. They can be on this post, on any other post, anywhere on Darkside Rainbow, as long as we hit 3,000. Spread the word; tell your friends, tell other readers, tell anyone, but let’s rack the comment count up. If we could hit 500 in one weekend (that…was psychotic), we can hit 133 in one week. You know the rules on what does and doesn’t qualify for comments by now. If you don’t, you’ll learn when your “LJSKLDJFLSJFLKSDJFKLS ;)” is number 3,000 and the person after you posting “Uh…wtf was that?” wins. Only difference is that you can still win even if you’ve won before, if you’re another blogger for 451, or even if you’re one of my friends (although the latter would be a little unfair if you haven’t previously read or commented.)

On a less abrasive note, thank you to everyone who commented on the last post explaining my reasons for leaving. I do appreciate your support and encouragement.

Now get to commenting, bitches.

…I had caffeine this morning. Can you tell?

Well, that and on a mercenary note, I’m not paid nearly enough for the amount of time and work I put into this place, and I’ve really been doing it for the fun of it and for no other reason.

I’m not leaving quite yet. I haven’t turned in my official resignation or really told anyone beyond this, and mentioning earlier that I was thinking about it. I’d wanted to wrap up the 3,000 comments contest before I go; I’d said I was giving away a copy of Velvet Goldmine and I am, damn it all. We have roughly 150 comments to go. I may throw another comments party this weekend, but basically…once we hit that mark and someone wins, I’m turning in my official resignation.

It’s been fun, but I’ve moved on to bigger and better things. DR and 451 Press were a great stepping stone to get me there, but it’s time to step away.

Plus, damn it, I’m trying to finish another novel.

Just don’t start singing “It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday” and no one will get shivved.

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Why yes, my friends, our emo haircuts, and I do make a habit of scoping out men’s packages in our local used bookstores. Really. Yep. Sure.

For some reason, the “size matters” conversation has been coming up in multiple discussions with multiple friends lately, and it’s been driving me mad - because apparently I’m the only person on the face of the earth (and definitely the only man, gay or straight) who doesn’t think size matters. Call me fuckin’ loco, but I’ve got other things on my mind on a daily basis than the size of my dick, the size of your dick, and the size of the dick on that stranger I happened to pass in the grocery store.

Men are ridiculous size queens. We really are. We fixate on dick size and act as if it defines our worth as a person and our potential to succeed in society. I, frankly, don’t get it. As long as it stands up, lies down, functions properly, and feels good while doing it, then I don’t care if it’s two or twenty inches long as long as it works. That goes for mine, yours, his, and hers.

…well…uh…maybe not hers.

Although the size thing does get ridiculous when you’re catching instead of pitching. Here’s a news flash for those of you who don’t know about this little corner of reality: it. Hurts. And not in the good way. We’re talking in the “lasting physical damage” way. You ever read that horrible het fic where they talk about bumping a woman’s cervix with his massive love rod - and every woman within in a fifty mile radius closes her legs and screams “NO, DEAR GOD, NO!”? Yeah, well, we get that way, too. Show me a twelve-inch cock and I’ll show you a chastity belt with inch-thick steel plates over the ass. I’m very happy for you that you have a gargantuan schlong capable of clubbing baby seals to death. If you try to put that thing in me, I will promptly remove it from your person and give you a hands-on demonstration of exactly what that damn thing feels like.

I’d apologize for the crappy art on this one, make all kinds of excuses about one of those days where I have no hand-eye coordination and the pencil / stylus won’t cooperate, blah blah blah, but y’know, I’m just a mediocre artist, so let’s leave it at that. I have my good days and my bad days and my days in between. It gets the idea across.

What? You were expecting me to say something more? Go on, get outta here. Nothin’ to see here. I’ll snarl about something else tomorrow.

-Adri

“Gargantuan schlong” is almost as fun to say as “giant anime hooters”.

Why are lesbian and bisexual women so into gay porn? Granted, generally not the hardcore stuff; it’s more written, or artwork, or even artistic photographs. (I’m not even into the hardcore stuff; porn just makes me giggle. Those faces they make…gods, I hope I don’t look that stupid during sex.) I kind of get it when it’s straight women; it’s the (more tasteful) equivalent of straight men getting their rocks off on lesbian porn, without the drool, grunting, and inevitable need for a wet wipe.

I’m not censuring; I’m just curious, and I’m interested in hearing you talk about your interests, why, what appeals to you, without feeling the need to defend yourself. It’s just something outside the realm of my experience; as a gay man I’m not so into lesbians or yuri fic/art/etc., so the rather large population of lesbians and bisexual women in the yaoi/shounen ai/slash community just baffles me. Since this is something I have no clue about, educate me. Be as honest and detailed as you want. If you’re not particularly interested in the attachments (or at least not interested in letting them anywhere near you, and you know, some days and with some guys I really can’t blame you), why is the erotic aspect of two men together so fascinating? Hell, if you straight or asexual girls want to throw in your perspective, too, knock yourselves out. Any story that’s worth telling is worth hearing.

This has been your “god I need sleep” post for the day.

He’s in New York now, trying to finally make good on his graphic design degree, and I admit: I miss him. I don’t miss the man I used to date, but I do miss one of my best friends. It’s a rather odd sentiment for me. I don’t really keep in touch with my exes, though I’m still on friendly terms with some of them. Patrick, my first, is still a good friend that I don’t talk to often enough. I avoid Dave like the plague lest he beat me over the head with his cock ego and overwhelming need to prove himself superior. Cheung is best left alone; that much emo will choke a man, and he was honestly too young for us to have anything in common - plus I’d rather not have many reminders of my one-time adventure with borderline jailbait since I’m not particularly comfortable with feeling like a dirty old man. Takeshii…Takeshii is too complicated. It’s hard to be friends with someone that you at once love, hate, and pity. Then there’s Devon, but…that’s a story best left untold.

I wonder if it should bother me that I can’t even remember the others’ names.

I’m only 28 and I’ve been through enough men to last me a lifetime. Some serious, some not, a couple I’ve even considered tying the knot with, and I wonder if it’s a sign of our times that that’s not even considered particularly abnormal - and no, I don’t just mean the typical gay stereotype of sleeping around and going through men as if they were toilet paper. In this, heterosexuals and homosexuals have more in common than most people think.

The popular stereotype is that homosexuals are serial daters and sluts, while your average heterosexual only has a few relationships in a lifetime before committing to something. Frankly, that’s pure bullshit. Serial dating is common across all of society - in fact, it’s even promoted and made to look like some glamorous lifestyle by television, shows like Sex and the City and…well…anything prime time featuring attractive singles. Not only that, but there are plenty of people among gay and straight demographics demographics that date rarely, get involved in serious long-term relationships, or don’t date at all.

So I don’t know where this idea of gay promiscuity came from, this love ‘em and leave ‘em lifestyle where our partners are just faceless and disposable. We may have been a bit louder about certain sexual freedoms in the 70s, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening in straight society, too - and it’s still happening. Even though I’ve had several serious relationships, all lasting at least six months to a year, and even though I’ve blitzed through several brief flings where I figured out it wasn’t going to work after a few dates, weeks, or months…I’m not promiscuous. I didn’t sleep with every man I dated, I don’t jump in the sack on the first, second, or third date, and while I don’t remember all of their names…I do remember the ones I was serious about, and sometimes miss the friendships that we had before we ever tried for something more.

Have I had a few one night stands? Yes. There are times where you just need to feel someone’s touch, need to feel wanted, whether it’s to sate the itch or soothe an ache that runs deeper than the physical. That’s normal. That’s part of everyone’s life, the daily loves, losses, triumphs and regrets that come with trudging through each year and trying to figure out where we’re going only to end it realizing that half the fun of life is being lost. So I refuse to be vilified for being just like everyone else, save for in the gender of my loves and lovers.

I am just like you in my right to love, and even in my right to fail at love as I try with various people, looking for just the right fit.

So when you’re pointing your finger at me…remember that I’m just a mirror of you, pointing a finger right back.

This is why I shouldn’t post when sleep-deprived. Although learning to type on the Eee is quite fun; this thing is smaller than the span of my freakishly large hand. He’s tiny, cute, slick, and black, and I have named him Roman.

While I think about that, I’ve got something for a particular reader (who wishes to remain anonymous) to think about: an answer to an “Ask Adri” question.

Dear Adri,

Ever since my sister came out as a lesbian we have been drifting apart. I am afraid that because she is gay and I am straight we will not be friends anymore. We were always very close but now we have nothing in common. Talking is hard. She says nothing is wrong but we don’t do things together anymore. I don’t want to lose her but she’s leaving for college soon and I’m afraid it will get worse when she’s gone. How do I fix this?

Thank you
Lonely Sista

Really, this sounds more typical of siblings everywhere regardless of sexuality; as you age and discover who you are and where your interests lie, you’re going to end up drifting apart a little and no longer having as much common ground. You won’t always want to do things together; it’s just a matter of making sure that the path of communication is open in case you both should ever want to, and for whenever you want to talk about the directions that your lives are taking.

Do you think I always hated my sisters? I really didn’t. In fact, I still have the stuffed bear that my eldest sister gave me the day I was brought home from the hospital, and despite my feelings towards them now, that bear still holds quite a bit of sentimental value for me. I used to idolize my sisters, and they thought I was a pretty cute little bugger to have toddling around at their heels, too, as long as they didn’t have to change my diapers (and who in hell would want to?). As I grew older, though, and started developing interests of my own and establishing myself as a separate person with his own opinions, they weren’t quite sure what to do with someone who was an actual entity to be dealt with rather than just a physical representation of “oh my god baby brother and the DIMPLES SO CUTE!!!” We started drifting apart long before I knew my sexuality. Confusion over what to do with each other as people instead of childishly limited extensions of ourselves created distance, uncertainty over the cause of the distance caused fights, and those fights led to a widening rift that we never really healed and that turned into a permanent separation once I left my family behind.

The point of that? It’s a cautionary tale because anyone with an iota of common sense could have seen that coming from a mile away - anyone on the outside of the situation with zero emotional investment in it, anyway. As you and your sister establish yourselves as separate and unique (hello, special snowflake), the differences between you are going to seem more acute, and it’s going to seem easy to blame them for a sudden breakdown in communications. Don’t. The only thing stopping the two of you from talking is you and her, a little misunderstanding, and a lot of misguided and idiotic oversensitivity.

So talk to her, and make sure she knows that no matter how either of you changes, she’s always welcome to talk back to you - about anything, including anything that may be on her mind, troubles that might have nothing to do with you or her lesbianism and may be the real root behind her distance. It may be that she’d welcome your input, or a shoulder. It could even be that she’s uncertain of her welcome now that she’s out, and being tentative about exposing too many parts of her life that might make you too uncomfortable. Make sure she knows that you’re fine with it, but don’t start trumpeting a big parade, either. Normalcy is the key.

So forget on focusing on her lesbianism. There’s really no reason to see that when you look at her, other than just accepting it as a part of her as innocuous as the length of her nose. Focus on her, instead, and on being happy for her that her life is branching out, just as yours. When you’re old women with many fat nieces and nephews between you, it’ll just give you more stories to share over hot cocoa (rum spiking optional). As long as her problem isn’t that she wants to make hot incestuous monkey love with you (and I doubt she does, no matter how hard various straight men wish), you should be okay.

With or without marshmallows,
-Adri

Have a question you’d like to see answered on Ask Adri? E-mail your question to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Ask Adri Question” or use the Contact Form to send your question in.

…does anyone really put rum in hot cocoa?, ask adri, gay advice column

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…stop looking at me like that. Seriously. I just saved a bunch of pictures from Undergear.com, not a single one of them naked, and I’ve been using them as references to draw various made-up characters based on the poses and body types. Not porn. I don’t look at porn.

…yeah, if you ever believe a man that tells you that, I’ve got some nice waterfront property in Arkansas for you to look at.

I’m working on getting used to drawing directly on screen like I’m drawing on paper again. So far I like the results, but after being so used to staring at the screen while drawing on the tablet separately, my standard hand-eye coordination is shot…and it shows in Red’s face. But I still think this came out better, smoother, than the old tablet drawings. It looks almost like pencil and ink, even though it was done in Photoshop (not even Manga Studio; there are issues with getting MS to recognize Wacom tablet drivers, and I’m tweaking it until it behaves properly). I really like being able to draw digitally but maintain some level of control; now I just need to work on retaining hand-eye coordination when doing comic art as opposed to realism. I trained myself and now I have to retrain myself. For the record, though, I was drawing this:

~grumbles~ Not porn. Character art from a story. Bah. My friends are assholes.

Moving on:

Caption Contest Winner

Wow, that caption contest kinda bombed, didn’t it? Not much participation. There were enough, though, to pick a winner; there were a few pretty funny ones in there (and man, Hikaru, you really wanted to win, didn’t you? Don’t I spend enough money on you already? Oh well, you’ve got a birthday coming up…), a few rather lame ones, and a few middle-grounders.

…okay, none of them were great, but out of the funny ones, the winner is Lala with “Hot legs, making your mark - Hot legs, keep my pencil sharp”. I’m sorry, but goofy Rod Stewart quotes are made of win (otherwise it wouldn’t be that funny - but c’mon, Rod Stewart?).

So Lala, shoot me an e-mail at adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net and tell me which e-mail address to send your Amazon gift card to.

I dunno if we’ll be doing a caption contest again. That was a last-ditch “oh crap, busy, need to update” thing. If we do, next time I’ll pick a better picture.

For now, though, I’m out. See you tomorrow with a regular post. I may even try reading the news, gasp.

Ciao,
-Adri

…for the record, the answer is “no”.

All right, that’s a little dramatic, but the point stands: we don’t have a single person to rally behind enough to give us faith, and regardless of your religious beliefs, faith in something is what drives you to get things done. Faith, motivation, a single unified message that says “We are one, we shall stand, we shall fight.” Instead we’re divided into a dozen, a thousand petty groups that squabble among each other just as much as we rail against the opposition; we can’t agree on anything, let alone which issue to tackle first. We’re too widespread, too preoccupied with other things, too many of us hidden, too many of us trapped in a feeling of helplessness. Martin Luther King could unify people across a nation. Who could do that for us?

Unfortunately, I can’t think of a single name off the bat. Some might say Barack Obama, as he is a charismatic bugger who tends to rally people to blindly support him - but while he might gather support in some areas, I don’t really see him as someone to lead on gay issues should he obtain the presidency. Same with Hillary, despite her pledges…and honestly, I can’t see myself following a call to action from any politician, unless they were so radically different that I actually felt that I could identify with them - and despite sharing a highly mixed heritage with Obama, I can’t identify with him. Don’t get me started on Hillary.

In the gay rights movement, I can’t even name anyone still living who’s made enough of an impact or any kind of significant contribution that I might even care who they are. A lot of that has to do with today’s social structure; if you aren’t a celebrity or a politician, people don’t pay attention to you and so few hear of your achievements no matter how major they may be. It’s a lot harder to lead a movement these days; people are too apathetic, too distracted by their cars, mortgages, and kids, too afraid to take a risk. Most would-be leaders - evangelists of the gay movement - give up before they even get very far, because trying to rally people to action is like trying to wade through sludge as thick as molten lead.

So enlighten me, since I admit that I’m somewhat sheltered and possibly just as apathetic. Is there someone you’d follow? Is there someone who could stand behind a podium and raise his or her voice to stir you to action and rouse your blood? If it came down to descending on Washington, gathering numbers greater than even the Million Man March:

Who would you follow in that march?

Why do I keep hearing the president’s speech from Independence Day in the back of my head?

Your mission: Come up with a humorous, ironic, witty, or in some other way interesting caption for the above picture. Post it as a comment to this entry, or if you want, you can Photoshop it in and post a link to your image. It’s up to you. Either way works. You can come up with as many as you like, but only one can win.

The deadline: Monday, April 14th, 12a CST. That means the second the clock rolls over from Sunday to Monday in my time zone, the contest is over. I’ll pick the best caption and post the winner when I post Monday’s comic.

The reward: A $30 Amazon gift card (we’ll even use the e-cards so you don’t have to wait for it to arrive via postal mail or give me your address). That’s enough for you to order enough junk to even get their renowned (and horribly slow) free Super Saver shipping.

The catch: Er…there’s no catch, I think; I’m just pressed for time and not above doing stupid internet-typical things to find something to post about. At least it’s not lolcats. Although if you’re an international reader and you don’t have access to Amazon or $30 would barely even cover shipping for you, if you win we’ll talk about getting you a gift card to some other place that’s better suited to your locale.

The secret: …those are a man’s legs up there.

At least that’ll keep this a bit topical.

Hafta run!

Little did he know that his impression of Bettie Page would be the final horror that awakened Cthulhu.