October 31, 2009

Halloween on My Whole Other Blog




Spend Halloween, if you dare, on my author blog and behold the AIDS Monster Movie Marathon, a story told backwards in a car driving forward, now and forever at Randy Boyd's Blocks.

*Now with more AIDS Monster Movie Posters!*

October 26, 2009

Building a Better Butt

Coach Bergman grabbed my naked ass cheek and said, “Look at you. Your butt is all fat. You gotta put some muscle on back here.”

I'm not sure if I had a reply for him. What do you say when your junior high basketball coach feels your ass in the locker room? If I could go back in time, I'd say something, like, “Take your hand off my ass, please, unless you want to get in even more deep shit for fondling a minor child's butt. And if you ever feel me up again, I'm gonna be the one in deep shit for beating the crap out of your pockmarked face, you fucking pervert.”

I guess you can say I still have a problem with the times adults took advantage of my young ass, so to speak. I wonder how Coach would feel if I, a grown man, went up and felt his son or nephew's butt?

That was the first time I felt self-conscious about my ass, but not the last. Doesn't help when you grow up in locker rooms surrounded by a bunch of white kids with pale toned butts outlined by deep summer tans. I was never proud of my ass. Hell, how can a boy who feels like a sick fag feel be proud of any of his body parts?

I'm all grown up now, and so is my ass, especially since I'm making an effort to build a better butt--tighter, firmer, more athletic. Between lunges and my Trikke, I'm falling in love with my ass more and more.

The best part: I'm doing it for me, so I can enjoy my ass, and let others of my choosing enjoy it, too. (Buddy, are you out there?) I'm an ass man. I've always been an ass man. Now, I love looking behind me, feeling myself up and saying, “Nice ass.”

October 22, 2009

October 16, 2009

Me, Myself and I

Why would I rather be me than anyone else? Find out in Rather Be Me.

October 12, 2009

Real Dick Size or Imaginary Dick Size?

Guys talk about dick size like they know what they're talking about. Truth be known: they have no idea what they're talking about. Dick inches don't equal real inches. The scale is imaginary. It's all wishful thinking.

When I meet a guy, the last thing on my mind is his dick size. When I look at myself naked, the last thing on my mind is my dick size. If only America would follow suit.

The award for Question Most Asked in My Lifetime: How Big Is My Dick?

October 8, 2009

Poz Guys Need Love, Too

Do I get a shot at love? How about some big love? Any love?

Imagine a prime time network TV show featuring 25 guys, all vying for my love and affection. Why? Because I'm that great of a catch!

I've lived a fascinating life, survived an courageous journey, and have a lot to offer. I got jokes!

Yes, that's right, world. I'm one good catch for any man, regardless of my HIV status. And my dreams are just as romantic and hopeful as any other single bachelor in this country. So, why not me? Read more in America, Hook Me Up!, now on my author blog.

October 2, 2009

Body By Fun

I finally discovered the best way to work out: go outside and play!

It's fun to play. Some people call it exercise, but I'm just doing what my body has wanted to do since childhood: stretch, bend, move ... play.

Sometimes I shoot hoops, not a game so much, just ... shooting hoops. I can see why some exercise experts believe basketball is good for your heart and your muscles, but I like to shoot hoops because I've been having fun that way since age seven. That's when my dad installed a court in the driveway of our new home in suburban Indianapolis. Me and my brothers, and the neighborhood kids--we played a lot of ball.

Wish I had a buddy to play that kind of ball with now.

I also like to play catch, another great way to exercise. A giant Frisbee. Velcro mitts. Football. Baseball. Whatever. And for those times when I need to push my body to keep getting better and stronger, I submit to calisthenics, and those tried-and-true muscle-makers: push-ups and pull-ups.

As a kid in gym class, I froze at the pull-up bar, mentally and physically. Now, I do 'em with the zest of a perpetual conqueror. Take that! What's up!
Sometimes I use resistance bands and do ab work, but even I don't concern myself too much with “the numbers.” lol. Number of sets, reps, heartbeat, this and that. Did you need to count how much fun you were having as a kid?

To get a good workout, all you need is your imagination, you know, that thing you had in childhood that could turn a doorway into a Nautilus workout station.

Another great workout for me: dogercise! Working out my dog Boomer can also be a workout for me, whether it's chasing him around at the beach, or wrestling for control of his favorite toy, the tire-biter!

And then there's my Trikke, the bike of the 21st century. It's like playing like a kid on wheels. I'm starting to love trikking the way surfers love surfing. It gets in your blood that way. Just ask any Trikker (or check out my Trikke review).

The Trikke is a miracle in and of itself. But perhaps it's a miracle that might not have happened had I not allowed myself to finally become the little boy I've always wanted to be, a little boy whose passion is finding different ways to move.

As the youngest child in a male-dominated family, I caught hell for the slightest hint of “acting like a sissy.” I would try to mimic dancers on television, then face immediate criticism and punishment. I couldn't move an inch.

When I was seven-years-old, my older sister taught me cheerleading. From that moment on, I became a student of cheerleading. I would try to mimic cheerleaders on television, then face immediate criticism and punishment. I couldn't move an inch.

In 1976. when I was fourteen, my beloved Indiana Hoosiers won their first title under Bob Knight. The whole family watched. To celebrate, I retreated to the bathroom, where I could move an inch (but not much more). I did some kind of a mini-cheer in the mirror, dared to crack a smile. To do anything more would have meant risking my physical and emotional health.

I escaped to college and became a cheerleader at both USC and UCLA. Nothing was going to stop me from being a great cheerleader somewhere.

If my journey in life began with restrictions on my creativity, it is now filled with freedom of movement and expression beyond my wildest dreams. Not only do I have new ways to play, like my Trikke, I also have my old ways to play, including shooting hoops and cheerleading.

Now, at age 47, when people ask me how I stay in shape, I'm simply tell them: I go outside and play.