Raindrops on roses Lobster rolls and whiskers on kittens Bright copper kettles Kayla and warm woolen mittens Sufjan Stevens Brown paper packages Donuts and Chambord tied up with strings These are a few of Folkinz’s favorite things
Nothing says Happy Birthday like a schizophrenic gif of Steven’s favorite thangs.
I bought this t-shirt back in May when Folkinz & Ramou were visiting. I planned on wearing it in Tunisia to, you know, have a little fun with my gayness. I was aware that homosexuality was punishable by law, and wasn’t there to spread the gay crusade (I was there to celebrate Sweet D’s marriage), but I never imagined I’d have to hide who I was. Even though I felt safe being a blonde-haired, blue-eyed American, I never felt safe being gay. Well, I did behind closed doors with Z and D and her family, but never in public. It was the only part of the trip I didn’t enjoy.
I know America still has work to do, but we’ve fought hard to be where we’re at today. At the bare minimum, we’ve got the option to live openly or not. In Tunisia, there isn’t that option, and it made me sad thinking about all the homosexuals who have to live their lives in secret, afraid of getting caught, even if they’re comfortable with their sexuality. I’m too old and exhausted to start from zero. I don’t think I could live in a place where I was afraid to walk down the street with my hand in another man’s back pocket.
So, I gave the shirt to Sweet D as a gift, because even though it’s still risqué for a woman to be so broad, at least she won’t go to jail for it.
Two of my favorites, Folkinz and Ramou, are arriving tomorrow and will be staying with me for a couple of nights. I’m a little nervous, though, that Casa de Jim is going to spontaneously combust before they’re even hit the tarmac. Los Angeles is experiencing a heat wave and my method of air conditioning (putting a fan next to a window and letting it rip) isn’t really helping. Rule #1 of hosting is making sure your guests are comfortable, and if my ass crack is any indicator, they’re gonna be sweatin’. I have an air conditioning unit in the wall, but normally don’t turn it on because it makes the apartment smell like a freshly skinned hog carcass (we butchered a lot of pigs growing up– Brother Duke liked to keep the hooves and pretend he was a pig while digging in the dirt). Oh well, I’m excited for them to be here and am sure they won’t mind the smell of pork.
Totally flattered you liked the picture I made and called it your own. Stay blessed.
The gentleman who made the photo that I posted of the Ikea Monkey that he did not take with reference to a character he did not create would like you all to know that he was the one who cleverly made the connection and took several seconds, perhaps even minutes, out of his day to put the text over the image. I would like to publicly apologize for the pain and suffering my transgression of posting it to tumblr without proper credit has cause him and his friends and family.