August 31, 2010

You Bet I'm Bent!

I grew up a liberal thinker in a conservative Midwestern town, a homo-inclined jock on homophobic sports teams, and a black boy who attended mostly rich, white schools.

Oh, yeah, and I was the youngest kid in a lower middle class family full of angry and violent men.

If I weren't bent, something would be very, very wrong with me, and I'd be very, very worried.

More about How I Became Me.

August 30, 2010

Blacks Are Human After All!

Some white men still don't know it.

Some black men have yet to realize it.

Some Asian men are unaware.

Some Latino men are still ignorant.

But sometime in the last century, some Americans discovered that black people aren't savages or menaces to society.

In fact, many Americans have discovered Black Is Beautiful.

August 29, 2010

Is My Buddy Out There?

I look at the gay life around me--online, offline, wherever--and it doesn't look like any world I would ever create, live in, choose or be a part of.

What they do is not me. What they believe is not me.

Yet where is one suppose to go to find someone of like mind?

I haven't found the answer, so my funky blog is my writing therapy, my art therapy, and my desperate, last ditch shout out to the world, "is my buddy out there?"

August 28, 2010

Pardoning Myself

Should've known better. Acted differently. Been smarted.

After acquiring the AIDS virus, I had to forgive myself for not knowing better, acting differently or being smarter.

After forgiveness came learning to love and accept myself all over again.

Life is better when you pardon yourself.

August 27, 2010

Power of the Pits

Yeah, me and my buddy wear cologne alright: Ode de Buddy, the scent that sends us both on a natural high.

It's guaranteed to drive us wild and bring out the animal in each other.

One whiff of Ode de Buddy and I'm reminded of all the things that make my buddy who he is.

No need for artificial scents. All me and my buddy need is Ode de Buddy.

from Buddy, Lemme Smell Your Pits!

August 26, 2010

Birth of an Ignorant Nation

Did you hear good things about black people in your household growing up?

How old were you the first time you heard something positive about a black man in general?

Were you born liking certain flavors of ice cream? Pie? Pizza?

Your racism hurts my feelings in ways you probably can't imagine.

from Dear American Racists of the 21st Century

August 25, 2010

Here Come the Homos!

New owner of a pro basketball team announces he's gay and that only gay players are allowed on his team.

He wants his franchise, the San Francisco Homos, to become a dynasty, once and for all showing the world that fags are men, too.

The owner assembles a team of previously closeted players now ready to change the world.

It's just a funky dream of mine, but I bet a lot of so-called straight men would shut the hell up after getting beaten in sports by some homos.

August 24, 2010

Four the Funky Way

What do I blog about on this funky blog?

I blog about dreams of mine, like Hollywood discovering AIDS: The Romantic Comedy.

I blog about funky questions running through my head, like Sexy and AIDS in the Same Sentence?

I write posts that remind the world (and myself) that a man can be Sexy, Confident, Comfortable and Poz.

Best of all, I blog about my deepest dream: finding Somebody to Love Me and My HIV.

August 23, 2010

For the Boys

Just bought my first mp3 song of an openly gay singer: Adam Lambert, "If I Had You."

Talk about a wonderful feeling: to finally put my money down for a song sung by an artist who's singing my tune, who understands my kind of yearning, who admits he likes boys!

Growing up, my prepubescent soul was clueless about the bisexual ambiguity of such musical minds as David Bowie and Elton John.

While in high school, the Village People had their fifteen minutes of peak fame. I used to rock out to them telling me to "Go West" on the 8-track tape in my car. And yet, my socially-retarded ass was one of the last to find out: those guys are fags! (as one friend put it).

Boy George. George Michael. Ricky Martin. Not a one of them sang out with the honesty of young Adam Lambert. They and Freddie Mercury paved the road, but the road is now ruled by a boy who's channeling all of them and making his own mark.

Thanks, Adam. You are the genesis of a whole new day and a much brighter song.

August 22, 2010

Why Be a Funky Black Poz Jock?

Why am I posting shot after shot of me on a blog called Funky Black Poz Jock?

Why am I blogging about my romantic dreams and deepest desires?

Why am I telling tales from my sometimes sexy, sometimes-no-so-sexy life with HIV/AIDS?

Because I can. And because I am America's Next Top HIV-Positive Model.

Click here for more funky pics.

Or go here for the best funky pics of 2008 or 2009.

August 21, 2010

Road Rules of Attraction

When I was younger, I wondered: what makes older people attracted to other older people, not the young and beautiful?

Now in my late 40's, I understand: a late model car is sexy because of its mileage, while a shiny new car is clueless about where it's been and where it's going. Not so sexy.

These days I prefer older, more mature vehicles, just like me. Any buddy wanna go for a joyride?

August 20, 2010

Tasty Buds

I love my HIV-positive tongue! My tongue gives me so much pleasure and joy, allowing me to taste and savor so many wonderful flavors.

My tongue is one of my favorite appendages.

Someday, I hope to have a buddy who says my tongue is one of his favorite appendages.

August 19, 2010

Sports Nutting

I love sports, but I hate the homophobia perpetuated in sports.

When I was a kid, I quit playing sports because I was a fag.

As an adult, I refuse to quit writing about homosexuality in sports because I'm not a fag.

I'm a man. Who loves men. And sports.

See what I mean in my blog column Jockin: Homos In Sports, now on my author blog.

August 18, 2010

Diary of a Faggy Black Boy

In my youth, no TV show told me I was a good person.

No movie told me the dreams of a little black boy like me were important.

No high school social activity was designed with me in mind.

Homecoming dance? The prom? Valentine's Day?

None of that was for me and my kind.
"I am somebody. I love myself. I'm so much more than a faggy black boy."
Nothing I saw in this world said this world was for me. Nothing told me I was worth something. On TV, in the movies, in books, in plays, in musicals, in fairy tales, no one ever said “I love you” to a faggy black boy.

Matter of fact, black boys like me didn't exist in the stories of my childhood, the boyhood tales of my adolescence, the cinematic dreams of my youth.

Growing up, not once did I see myself in art, nor did I see another person dreaming of loving a black boy like me.

I had to learn how to fall in love with myself and my dreams on my own. Thankfully, I discovered voices, characters, storylines and buddies who, in my dreams, helped me feel worth something.

Fortunately, I lived long enough to share some of those dreams in my novels, my short stories, my essays, my living by example. Yes, a faggy black boy who grew up hating himself, his family and the world can learn to love.

Yes, a faggy black boy who wasn't good enough in sports, or manly enough to hang with the bros, or smart enough to know the bros were just faking it themselves--that faggy black boy can make a life for himself beyond all the crap he was spoon-fed by the world.

I am somebody. I love myself. I'm so much more than a faggy black boy. I deserve love and happiness as much as any other soul on earth.

I've learned to love myself. Now I hope someone in the world can learn to love me, too.

August 17, 2010

Scent of a Real Man

Guy passes by. Seconds later, a noxious cloud engulfs my senses.

Was that a dead carcass? A chemical spill? Nerve gas?

Don't understand it.

This need to cover one's scent with wretched-smelling chemicals bottled as cologne.

The only scent I need is that of a real man.

August 16, 2010

Body of Evidence

August 1990: A funny thing happened after my 10-year high school reunion.

When the evening was over, I returned to my childhood home. Mom and I chatted about the reunion, then she noticed the unused film in my camera.

On the floor of the den, I began posing for my mom, making her laugh hysterically. Typical behavior for us, me making my mom laugh. I love making my mom laugh.

When I first saw the results of my impromptu photo shoot, I could barely look at them.

To me, the photos were awkward and simply more evidence that I wasn't one of the beautiful people, the ones living the good life, as seen on TV and in the movies.

Cut to me twenty years later, coming across those same photos and falling in love with the young man posing to make his mom laugh, looking so young and fresh.

I guess that means I can now see beauty in myself, where I couldn't see it in high school, then couldn't see it ten years later, at my 10-year high school reunion.

That impromptu photo shoot turned out to be the best part of reunion weekend, the bonding with my mother, the laughter, the images of myself I can now appreciate.

See the crazy outfit I wore to the reunion, plus more pics of the impromptu photo shoot in Acting Out at My High School Reunion, now on my author blog.

August 15, 2010

Bromancing the Bone

Here in the early part of the 21st century, real men are allowed to have bromances and man crushes, something the real men of the 80s who didn't eat quiche and the real men of the 70s who didn't use male grooming products would never do.

Nowadays, men can even joke about doing it with another guy. Example: John Stewart of the Daily Show routinely joking about getting it on with a hot male celebrity.

Makes one wonder what barriers the next generation of real men will break. No doubt something the real men who have bromances would never dream of.

August 10, 2010

If I Only Had a Buddy

If I had a buddy, I'd pinch myself to make sure it's finally happening, after seemingly a lifetime.

If I had a buddy, I could read to him in bed on Sunday mornings, the newspaper or perhaps a story I wrote.

If I had a buddy, I'd have someone to hold me tight, whisper in my ear, look deep into my eyes.

If I had a buddy, I'd jump in the air, run around in circles and bark loudly out of sheer happiness, just like my dog.

If I had a buddy, I'd be living a dream come true.

August 9, 2010

August 8, 2010

I Repeat: I Am Not Gay!

I am not gay, nor have I ever been gay. I repeat, gay does not = me.

I'm capable of having sex with a man or a woman, but I can only imagine being in love, soul to soul, with a man.

Why? Who's to truly say, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with being Jock Crazy!

August 7, 2010

Neg Dudes in the Land of Poz

I've kissed neg men. Neg men have kissed me.

I've sucked neg dick. Neg dudes have sucked my dick. I've licked neg ass. Neg tongues have eaten my ass.

Rimming, fucking, making out, cuddling, making love--a neg person and a poz person can do all those things safely.

But most men don't know this or don't care. Most HIV-negative gay men treat men HIV-positive gay men like vampires or monsters.

August 6, 2010

Sexy, Lovable and Poz

As someone who's been living with HIV/AIDS for 25 years and counting, it's important to me to give young poz guys some hope.

Young poz guys need to know they can still be sexy, sexual, happy, healthy and lovable without adding an asterisk to their identities.

Young poz guys don't have to be embarrassed or ashamed of their HIV-positive status. If a guy like me can survive the AIDS Panic of the last century, young guys today can thrive while living with HIV/AIDS in the new century.

Young poz guys, take your sexy back. Get your mojo back. Life ain't over. You, too, can be sexy and lovable.

August 2, 2010

Buddies Only: All Others Keep Out

I dream of a place where my buddy and I and our good friends can hang out.

A place with an outdoor area for shooting hoops, tossing the football, wrestling in the mud, grillin' on the deck, drinking beer and shooting the shit about life.

A place with an indoor bar area for watching sports, playing video games, Foosball, pool, poker, beer pong!

A place where a man and his scents are welcomed. And of course, a place where everyone's welcomed to hang out in their funky jock.