Mormon Boys And Big Juicy Butts

The thing I love most about the Mormon culture is that it continues to give me reasons to laugh my ass off.

The daughter of a friend of mine in WA is gearing up, with her Ward, for Girl's Camp. Remember Girl's Camp? I loved it. It supplied many of my favorite teenage memories. The hikes, pranks, skits, the working of leather and beads into never worn again bracelets. The campfires and the silly songs. Uplifting songs that were written especially for camp and goofy songs that were either original or just lyrics added to already existing tunes. Like this sweet little ditty forwarded by my friend. A hopeful love song, if you will, sung by freckle faced, pre-pubescent Mormon girls about eternal marriage and the virtues of the holy priesthood of God. To the tune of Baby Got Back.

I like Mormon boys and I cannot lie,
You other sisters can't deny,
When a boy walks in with scriptures in his hands
And a big smile on his face you get a date,
A celestial mate.

Someone to call your own and hold your hand,
And take a stand
For you.
So teachers, preachers, we don't like your features,
So Mormon boys,
Mormon boys,
Bring on the priesthood yeah!

HUH!

(The "Huh!" is accentuated, by the way, with a hearty pelvic thrust.)

Baby Got Back. A song about guys with their erect anacondas having all night sex with girls that have big, round, thick and juicy, in your face, butts.

WTF???

Wow, Heaven And Hollywood Did Some Hefty Negotiating Yesterday

All I have to say is that, no matter how weird he was becoming, Michael Jackson was Freaky Crazy Talented. I think he was also very misunderstood in the media and, clearly, mistreated in surgery. As much as his talent will be missed I have to say that I am glad he died when he did. Now his "Star" can be back up by Marilyn Monroe and James Dean where it belongs and all those that publicly mocked and abused him can now publicly canonize him - as they are doing. And I think he deserves that. He can now be remembered for all he gave the world - because that would most likely have continued to be more and more eclipsed by his astronomical oddness that would only have gotten worse as he aged.


I think that his life was a painful one and that he became the weird poster child for a weird family system that was not of his making. And I think that he was deprived of a childhood and, quite literally, never had the chance to grow up and to heal. Now he has that chance. And I, for one, am happy for him. And grateful.

Although I do have to say that, while his daughter Paris Michael is good to go, his sons Prince Michael I and Prince Michael II (aka: Blanket) might want to think about having their names changed to Joe and Dave. I'm just saying.



And we can't forget Farrah. I really don't have much to say about her because I always wanted to be Kris and not Jill when we played Charlie's Angels at the swimming pool. But she was beautiful, could actually act (Burning Bed and Extremities) and fought hard - making a documentary about her illness. And, come on, she was Farrah. Now a for real angel. Bless her.

Women Over 40

60 Minutes Correspondent Andy Rooney (CBS)

"As I grow in age, I value women over 40 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over 40 will never wake you in the middle of the night and ask, 'What are you thinking?' She doesn't care what you think. If a woman over 40 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do, and it's usually more interesting. Women over 40 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you if they think they can get away with it.

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated. Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 40. Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 40 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one. You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her. Yes, we praise women over 40 for a multitude of reasons, unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed, hot woman over 40, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year old waitress. Ladies, I apologize.

For all those men who say, 'Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?', here's an update for you. Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage Why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire pig just to get a little sausage!"

And there you have it.

Dove Evolution

And I'll bet she has a human ass taboot.

A Human Ass

Sunday was my Big, Fat Birthday. I am now 41 years old - poised atop the slippery slide to 50. Holy shit. Okay, that was a bit dramatic - 50 is still a long ways off. But, oh... the mind trip.

I am actually enjoying getting older. I have never been happier, felt healthier, sexier, stronger, or more comfortable in my own skin. Most of my girlfriends are the same way - really coming into our own, finding new strength in really amazing ways, finally comfortable being with ourselves, more on track, more confident...

Until the weirdest thing happens. We catch one glimpse of the cellulite on our asses and all that goes out the window. What the hell??? How is it possible that women who have so much going on can still get derailed so fast by being human? It's like we are back in high school comparing ourselves to the cheerleaders and suddenly hide in the library because we find we come up short. I was recently with some friends having the most wonderful, intelligent, stimulating conversation until it turned to our bodies. Suddenly we're in front of mirrors bemoaning our thighs, bellies, boobs, noses, chins, asses... How is it possible that, with all the living and learning we have under our belts, we are still comparing ourselves to Supermodels and Porn queens?

Guess what? Cindy Crawford has said that even she doesn't wake up looking like Cindy Crawford! They are airbrushed upside down and backwards. And, even if they're not, who the hell cares? Seriously!

And it's not just women, men do it too. I have many male friends that want bigger muscles, bigger and longer love pumps, bigger calves, more hair, rounder asses.

We are here on this human planet having a human experience with these human bodies and beat ourselves, and others, up because we have human asses. How ridiculous is that?

I am calling for an end to the madness. How about we stop pointing the finger at the ass fat on ourselves and others and start focusing on all the amazing things we have going on in this life? I say we eat well, feed our bodies what they need to be as healthy as possible, exercise to look and feel as great as we possibly can and then just get the hell on with being incredibly happy, grateful humans. Life is short and I have too much to do.

Besides, it's much more fun to both have and be a blissfully bouncy, slightly dimpled, thoroughly unapologetic human ass.

Are Women Born This Way

Heaven help her poor husband.

Baffled

My next door neighbor is applying for a job with the Utah Highway Patrol. Great guy -perfect job for him. The screening process is intense - they leave no stone unturned. An officer called me a few weeks ago asking all sorts of questions about him and his character, lifestyle, personality... I was happy to oblige. Like I said, he is a great guy.

Just now I was working when my doorbell rang. Another officer with a hundred more questions. I was asked about his temper, his level of integrity, his driving skills, if he had ever been in the military, ever been arrested, ever used controlled substances, ever been associated with a group that seeks to deny others their civil rights...

I wanted to say, "Um, yeah, the Mormon Church." But I didn't feel like getting into it. I had to just shake my head and laugh. I said no.

Associating with a group that seeks to deny others their civil rights is up there with getting arrested and doing drugs in keeping one from working in law enforcement and yet...

I have to admit, I'm a little bit speechless.

Breaking The Rock

I love the image that was used in the speech (below) by Patricia Clarkson at the HRC benefit in New Orleans - taken from the quote by Tennessee Williams "The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks."

It is a theme of "Dancing With Crazy" that has been a big one for me in my life - which you all will read once the damn thing is published. Sheesh. But what a glorious picture: Something as seemingly tiny and fragile as a seed - a flower, breaking through something as seemingly hard and impenetrable as a mountain - a rock.

This speaks to something so much bigger than equal rights and those who are fighting to achieve them (as important as that is). It speaks to the human soul that has been buried and covered and lost in the dark - smashed by the rock of the lies and pain of life. It speaks to the ability we all have, in the deepest parts of our beings, to not give up. To struggle and to grow and to reach for the light. To stand tall and beautiful, having fought the fight of a lifetime, with our hearts and petals open and alive in the sunshine.

There is no feeling that comes close. Except maybe love. Because that is, ultimately, what it is. Love. Love of Self. Love of Life. And, Love of that word that I have only recently begun even speaking again. God. (I think I just heard several of you fall off your chairs.)

Coochie. Coochie. Coochie.

So, I just got back from a quick trip to LA. Saw the Long Beach production of "Facing East." It was a wonderful weekend of book and film schmoozing and creating and making peace with the city that tried to kill me two decades ago. All was fantabulous until my flight home.

Okay, I get the whole "terrorists exist therefore you must get naked before boarding and not carry anything containing liquid that is bigger than a freaking pimple" but come on... Long beach is a very small airport. The happy people that worked the ticket counter, also worked the gate and had left by the time we got there to check baggage. I was not able to check my bags. So at the security check point I explained that NO ONE was there to check my bags and that I was not packed for carrying on. I was informed that there was nothing to be done and they proceeded to go through my luggage and toss out ALL my (not inexpensive) shampoo, conditioner, face wash, lotion, body spray, toothpaste, deodorant... They weirdly let me keep my gallon jug of anal lube. Not sure what that was about.

So, I'm balling and bitching to the Airline Gods who tried to appease me by giving me a seat close to David Archuleta. It was sweet of them but I really think that I had earned Blair Underwood or Johnny Depp considering the rude fashion in which they had just raped me.

Good thing I still had my lube.

Patricia Clarkson speaks at 2009 HRC New Orleans Dinner

For any of ya'll who still care...

The Longest Way

I thought this was just so cool. When I watched it the first time I was mesmerized and a bit envious of this guy’s adventure. The second time I found myself asking, “If that were me and this was a time lapse of my life, what scenes would I want to see flashing in the background?”

Try it, its fun. If this was a time lapse of you and your life what scenes, experiences, adventures, people, colors, music… would you want to see? Cool.

Now go make it happen!

No Explanation Needed

I have been thinking a lot lately about the quote I have at the top of this blog: "For those who understand, no explanation is needed. For those who do not understand, no explanation is possible."

Obviously, I initially chose that because it stated the experience of myself and others that have left the Mormon Church. For those who know what it is like to have one's beliefs wash away with the tides and to suddenly see things from a completely new and alive and expansive and free perspective, trying to get someone who still believes to understand (let alone accept) is near impossible.

And, by the same token, a person who fervently believes with a faith that is sweet and life giving and solid and, yes - alive and expansive and free, who has no need to question or challenge that faith cannot get someone who doesn't "get it" or "have it" to understand or respect the things they know to be true.

Let's face it, us Ex-Mo's can better understand where the TBM's (True Blue Mormons) are coming from (if we can get over our big, fat selves) because we were once there. We at least have a memory of what it was like to have a "testimony." While The TBM's have no idea what it is like to see things from where we stand, and are often judgemental and fearful of what our choices mean for us - and, potentially, for them.

But it is precisely because of our "former testimonies" and "new found truths" that we Ex-Mo's can be so hard on the TBM's and judge them for all the things that still being Mormon means to us. Because "The Church" is no longer a place we believe in and can grow in - because it is no longer a place that houses our truth - we have a tendency to think that that should, therefore, be the case for everyone. It's not.

Remember the exercise (with it's many varieties) of a room full of people staring at a door that has been placed in the middle of the room? One side is painted red, the other side is painted blue. Both sides of the room are asked to describe what they see. One side insists that the door is red while the other side insists that it is blue. And both are right because what they see is what they see. My truth is that the door I am looking at is red. Is someone looking at the blue side of the door wrong? No. I have to accept that what is true for me is not at all what is true for them.

We are all where we are - looking at the truth in front of us. Our truth is our truth. I really believe that we are all where we are until we don't need to be there anymore. We are where we need to be until it no longer works or serves us. Until we can no longer grow where we find ourselves planted. When that becomes the case we re-examine the religion, relationship, occupation, school, house - whatever it is that no longer works - and we make new choices accordingly.

The trick is to do our very, very best to respect those that see a different color door and to not insist that the color we see is the only true color. Because the truth is that there are doors and paths of all different colors and they all lead us to the same place. We can share our colors with others, describe them in the most detailed and enticing way possible, but if they choose not to leave the side of the door they are looking at because they really and truly love the color they see it is really none of our business.

Bottom line to me is - we are all where we are because that is where we are. Period. End of story. No explanation needed.

More Penguin Proof

Many of you will remember the gay penguin couple that was stealing eggs at the zoo in China. While I still think that stealing another's offspring is just plain bad form (unless of course said offspring is born to sixteen year old crack whores) I am still thrilled that there are more and more examples of our little gay tuxedoed friends coupling up and being responsible and loving parents.

The latest:

Gay Penguin Pair Adopt Abandoned Chick
German Zoo Gave Z and Vielpunkt, a Pair of Gay Humboldt Penguins, an Abandoned Egg to Care For.

By Stephanie Rogers



The egg was vulnerable and helpless, abandoned by its parents and in need of warmth to survive. So officials at a German zoo gave it to a pair of gay male Humboldt penguins, named Z and Vielpunkt, who took it in and nestled it until it hatched in May. Now, the pair is happily raising the four-week-old chick.

"Z and Vielpunkt, both males, gladly accepted their 'Easter gift' and got straight down to raising it," said a zoo statement.

"Since the chick arrived, they have been behaving just as you would expect a heterosexual couple to do. The two happy fathers spend their days attentively protecting, caring for and feeding their adopted offspring."

Z and Vielpunkt aren’t the first of their kind, or even the only gay penguins at the zoo in Bremerhaven, northern Germany. In 2005, three pairs of male penguins had been seen at the zoo trying to mate and sitting on stones in lieu of eggs. It was also reported last fall that a pair of male penguins at a zoo in China was stealing eggs from heterosexual penguin couples.

Other famous gay penguin couples include Roy and Silo, the Central Park Zoo pair that inspired the book And Tango Makes Three.

Homosexuality has been documented in a range of animal species, but has not been studied in-depth.

"Homosexuality is nothing unusual among animals," Bremerhaven zoo said on Wednesday.

"Sex and coupling up in our world do not necessarily have anything to do with reproduction."

Amen. And Amen.

More on Z and Vielpunkt from the BBC.

The Hell I Can't

When I first saw Tiffany Geigel on “So You Think You Can Dance?” I wasn’t quite sure what to think. The whole thing was so odd – at first glance. But she spoke and she danced and I found myself feeling quite emotional.

How would it be to live life in that body? She has every reason in the world to give up, not expect much for herself and to resign herself to the limitations life has handed her. Oh my God, she has THAT body and said, “I’m going to be a dancer???” I’m sure everywhere she turns she gets the message: No, You can’t, Don’t try, You shouldn’t, You could never, People would never… On and on and on. And, yet, this woman dances.

Well, shut me the hell up.

The next time any of us are told - by others or by our own inner critic: No, You can’t, Don’t try, You shouldn’t, You could never, People would never… The next time we think I can’t love, my heart has been broken; I can’t trust, I have been betrayed; I can’t believe, my faith has been lost; I can’t risk, I am too afraid; I can’t live, my spirit has been damaged; I can’t push myself, I am not strong enough; I can’t do this, I can’t do that, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t… Stop and repeat after me: THE HELL I CAN’T.

And then go dancing.

Imagine This!

Find more videos like this on Imagine This! TV


Okay, as much as I love my "Weeds" – THIS is what television was invented for. Actor Eion Bailey has shot a pilot for a new TV series called “Imagine This.” We’re all familiar with “Extreme Home Makeover.” Well, this was introduced to me as, essentially, “Extreme Third World Village Makeover.”

Bailey “identifies a Third World village with a significant need -- a new school, a playground, clean water, or all of the above -- then flies in a team of colorful, creative, committed individuals to solve that village's problem in a week.” I am passing onto all of you a request from Mr. Bailey that was passed along to me.

“My new television show “Imagine This!” is just about ready launch! We are close to placing it at a network. BUT we need your help!! There is a bit of a debate amongst some of the network executives as to whether or not people want or are ready for this kind of show. Some say people only want to see shows like The Bachelor, Fear Factor, or How I slept with your Mother, etc…

Those shows are all fine and have their place.

But we know that there is also room for "Imagine This!" A forward thinking, community building, emotionally riveting adventure about people coming together, in the US and abroad, to do good work for communities in need.

I would really appreciate your support. We are so very close. Please, check out our site, watch the trailer and clips, become a member, and let the BRASS know: The time is NOW for a show like THIS on TV!! Oh, and if you could PLEASE get as many people as possible to come join and support us that would be huge.

Thank you so much!"

It is, without question, time for more shows like this. I, for one, can’t wait to watch. Especially if there’s pygm… er… hillbillies involved.