La versión español está después de la versión inglés.
IN THE PAST FEW days, I’ve talked about balls, wieners, and boobs. What’s left? I’ve thought and thought, and finally decided I really don’t want to talk about what remains to talk about even though it would give my juvenile sense of humor a lift.
There are the hind quarters for one (or two, depending on how you count). And then there are the other “lady parts.” I could tell you about discussions San Geraldo and I have had regarding how many holes there are. Or how a tampon works. I could even share with you SG’s potty stories.
Or I suppose I could share the fact that San Geraldo is a Gold-Star Gay. And I am not. For those of you who don’t know what Gold-Star Gay means (we didn’t until a few years ago), it’s a gay man who has never had sex with a woman. A Platinum Star Gay is a gay man who was born by Caesarean section. I’ll let you figure that out.
But here I am again! After saying I wasn’t going to talk about any more “parts.” Here’s a part I can talk about. My ankle. It’s doing great. Still a bit lumpy. Still a bit tender (but just a bit). And it doesn’t ache if I don’t have it elevated. There! Nothing inappropriate about that at least.
Below are some views of the neighborhood during the sunshine of Thursday afternoon when I walked to the supermarket. Sunshine on the Costa del Sol has been rare during this entire lockdown. So, it’s really appreciated when we have it. Today? Cloudy. Again. As you can see from the photo at the top of the page. And then, at bottom, one more wiener reference.
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EN LOS ÚLTIMOS DÍAS, he hablado sobre pelotas, salchichas y pechos. ¿Lo que queda? Lo pensé y lo pensé, y finalmente decidí que realmente no quiero hablar sobre lo que queda por hablar a pesar de que daría un impulso a mi sentido del humor juvenil.
Existen los cuartos traseros para uno (o dos, dependiendo de cómo cuente). Y luego están las otras “partes femeninas”. Podría contarle sobre las discusiones que San Geraldo y yo hemos tenido sobre cuántos agujeros hay. O cómo funciona un tampón. Incluso podría compartir con vosotros las historias insignificantes de SG.
O supongo que podría compartir el hecho de que San Geraldo es un Estrella de Oro Gay. Y no lo soy. Para aquellos de vosotros que no sabéis lo que significa Estrella de Oro Gay (no lo hicimos hasta hace unos años), es un hombre gay que nunca ha tenido relaciones sexuales con una mujer. Estrella de Platino Gay es un hombre gay que nació por cesárea. Te dejaré resolver eso.
Pero aquí estoy otra vez. Después de decir que no iba a hablar de más “partes”. Aquí hay una parte de la que puedo hablar. Mi tobillo. Lo está haciendo genial. Todavía un poco abultada. Todavía un poco tierno (pero solo un poco). Y no duele si no lo tengo elevado. ¡Allí! Nada inapropiado sobre eso al menos.
A continuación se presentan algunas vistas del vecindario durante el sol del jueves por la tarde cuando caminé hacia el supermercado. El sol en la Costa del Sol ha sido raro durante todo este bloqueo. Entonces, es realmente apreciado cuando lo tenemos. ¿Hoy? Nublado. De nuevo. Como puede ver en la foto en la parte superior de la página. Y luego, en el fondo, una referencia wiener más.
THE TEACHER’S NAME WAS MRS. WIENER. I loved her.
Esta es mi foto de la clase de primer grado.
LA MAESTRA SE LLAMABA SRA. WIENER. La amaba.
You are next to the boy with the bowtie and suspenders,
Susan:
Wow! Haven’t changed a bit, have I!
damn, susan beat me to it!
does that say 1968; if so, I was in 8th grade that year. a terrible year in history.
I did not know there were different levels of “gay”. SG has not missed a thing by not having sex with a woman.
Carebear, I think that says 1960. He would’ve been too old in ’68 to be in first grade unless held back way too many times 🙂
Deedles:
Oh, spoiled sport. I was hoping people might mistake it for 1980… and then believe it.
anne marie x:
Oh, sweetheart. That says 1960! But I’m sure it was a mistake. Was it the 8th grade that made it a terrible year or just 1968 in general?
I can name at least a couple of “things” SG missed by not having sex with a woman. But I wont because I’m very mature and always appropriate.
Yep, I picked you out of the crowd. I wonder what happened to the rebel in the plaid shirt? I had not run into the star ratings.
David:
I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the Rebel Without A Tie. I used to be able to name everyone in that picture. Those star ratings were news to us.
Well well well … you finally found a way in which you and SG, and Carlos and I, differ ….
I am a Gold-Star Gay.
Carlos is not.
Bob:
There it is! Do you know any Platinum Star Gays?
I don’t … must be a very rare breed!
As I’ve always said, “A cloudy day at the beach is better than a sunny day at work.”
Frank:
You’re so right. AND the sun came out and it was a pretty glorious day.
I had to stare at that picture for a bit to recognize you. The diversity was too distracting. I mean look at it! Blondes and brunettes. Maybe even a redhead or two (hard to tell in black and white) . If it was 1960, I was four and wishing I was anywhere but at home. Still loving the ghost town pix 🙂
It’s probably a good thing that Ms Wiener taught first grade. With that name older kids would never have learned a thing!
Deedles:
I thought the same thing about diversity when I pulled that photo out of the album this morning. Wow! Before I started school, I must have been about 4, my sister came home from school and told me she made two new friends she really liked. A “colored family” had moved to town and the girls were in her class. Yeah, 1958 suburban Long Island. Shameful. Open school day was coming up and I was so excited to meet her “colored” friends. Imagine my disappointment when I met these two girls and they weren’t the colors of the rainbow. Thankfully, my parents had never labeled anyone we knew. So I didn’t yet know there were differences to be pointed out. Sadly, Dale had picked up the term at school. She quickly dropped it and the twins remained friends for a number of years, even after we escaped for Brooklyn (not that I loved Brooklyn, but at least we weren’t all the same color). Mrs. Wiener got married just before school started. She had a very elegant last name before that. I would have kept it. She also had vivid red hair, which I assumed was natural. Now I don’t know.
Oh, good! I thought I was coming off as kind of snotty. It wasn’t intentional I assure you. My schools in San Diego were sort of diversified. Mostly Colored, Negro, Black (depends on the year), Mexican, and Filipinos. All through grade school, every teacher I had was white except for third grade. I loved my kindergarten teacher, Miss Keys. She had long blonde hair and blue eyes (something I’d never seen in person), and a sweet disposition. I was all eyes and legs and fearfully shy. She took special pains to make me feel comfortable and nurtured. It was important because I wasn’t getting that at home from my mother. Miss Keys protected me from those who would bully quiet kids. It’s been close to sixty years now, and I still feel the warmth. Wow.
Deedles:
Definitely not snotty. And how could you miss it when you look at that photo. Mrs. Wiener was my Miss Keys. I have the same warm feelings when I think of her.
I graduated from HS in 1968; if that is the year in the picture, you are just a young pup!
Beth:
I was actually 4 years behind you and and not 12. The year of the photo was 1960. I thought it looked kind of like 1980 and knew no one would believe THAT. But thanks for believing 1968.
Ankle injuries always seems to take longer to heal than we would like–says one who had surgery on one several years ago. Still likes to periodically remind me that the original parts have been tampered with over time.
Love the school photo. I was in fourth grade in 1960–living in the UK. Attending my fourth school by that time. Just an AF brat who moved a lot. Ended up going to seven schools in three countries. Good times.
Mary:
Wow. That’s a lot of moving. We would have done the same had it been up to my father, but my mother refused. Yes, the ankle remains annoying but at least it IS getting better. Our friend Judy broke her ankle several years ago (exactly how I sprained mine… well not hauling cat litter, but on stairs). Hers was a terrible break with pins and screws and she went through hell. It’s never been the same. I’m so lucky all I did was sprain mine.
Bare streets…..becoming a very common scene.
Never heard of a ‘Gay Gold Star’….probably an exclusive club I’d say. who knows?
Jim:
So, I take it neither you nor Ron are Gold Star? Sure hope we can do a bit more after the 26th, although it looks like restaurants may stay closed for months.
Oh, that 1960 first grade picture is TOO wild! All those stereotypical gender conformity norms on display — girls in dresses, sitting primly with their hands in their laps, boys standing, all wearing ties/bowties (except for the Plaid Shirt Rebel) — and of course, not a non-white kid in the bunch! And poor Mrs Wiener — she, her husband and kids must have heard every bad joke imaginable.
P.S. I am not a Gold Star Lesbian, alas. But congrats to SG for his sexual purity!
Debra:
SG is very proud of his star. And, yes, that photo is unbelievable. I never used to give a thought to what that group looked like. Now I can’t look without being appalled. I wonder if Mrs. Wiener had sons and named them Peter, Dick, and Willie.
I’m so impressed at all the people who were able to pick you out of that first-grade picture. Now that others said it I see you right away, but I couldn’t have found you on my own! As for the other “parts,” well, you crack me up. I am not ready to disclose my “star status.” 😀
Steve:
Oh, non-disclosure? Inquiring minds want to know.
I too am a Gold Star gay!!!!!! And your line about regarding how many holes there are, scares me. You mean to say there is more then one?!?!?!?!?!?!?! That sounds most confusing to me. How does one know which hole to stick what in??????? I’m am most confused now. Wait till I talk to friends later and ask if they know that ladies have multiple holes. Just how many holes Mitchell? Have you two figured it out yet? I haven’t been appalled like this since I first saw a pair of Cro….Cro…Cro…well you know what.
Mistress Maddie:
Oh, dear, I don’t think I’ll explain female anatomy here. I hope you have at least one friend that can explain it. But, you know, there is always the internet. You could probably even google the question: How many holes… etc. But then, you’ll want a diagram as well (because I assume you wouldn’t want a photo). I did work in medical illustration and could draw it for you, but I don’t think that will be necessary. Can’t wait to hear how many of your friends aren’t as surprised as you… and SG.
Sweetie, if I remember right, there are three if you count the, um, anus. Pee does not come out of the vagina, hon. Even after forty-six years, Little BH still needs a monocle to find the right hole. TMI? Well, as the old show used to say, you asked for it!
Deedles:
I think he still needs to see some pictures.
Spotted you right away, although I was surprised that you were not the tallest boy. You were lucky to have Mrs. Wiener – I had an old battle-axe for my first grade teacher. Glad your ankle is better.
Wilma:
I had the battle axe for kindergarten. Mrs. Wiener was a true winner. Within a couple of years, I was always the tallest or second tallest in every class.
I’m afraid I’m not gold star either, but I wish I was. As Freddy Fender sang, wasted days and wasted nights.
Incidentally, long before I lost my virginity with either gender, I DID look at Playboy and Penthouse from time to time. Can I assume San Geraldine didn’t? Or else he’d know how many holes (“hole” doesn’t quite describe it anyway–if it did, I’d expect Bugs Bunny to pop out.)
Finally, when it comes to those of us who aren’t gold star gays, does the ORDER of which gender you did whatever with make a difference?
Kirk:
As far as i know, the Gold Star Gays only care about level of purity. So sorry.
I never saw that level of detail in Playboy or Penthouse. I learned close-up and personal.
Hm, I’ve been educated. Now I need to decide if you two made that up or is a real thing 🙂 Glad the ankle is healing.
Cheapchick:
OK, I’ll behave and assume you mean Gold and Platinum when you refer to what we made up (as there were other things mentioned here). And, no, we didn’t make it up. It’s apparently a thing. What a surprise.
I too have not heard of the Gold Star/Platinum Star levels
Is there a star system for the # of partners you’ve had in life? Like frequent flyer miles?
Urspo:
Well, if there were a system for number of partners, I wouldn’t be hopping on a free flight any time soon. Less than 20, male and female, wouldn’t get me far. Or at least i don’t think so. I DO know some others who have less than 5. So maybe I could get Bronze Status.
The kid in the plaid shirt (his parents obviously did not get the memo) looks like he’s got a Gomez Addams mustache!
Walt the Fourth:
Maybe his lips were chapped? In 1960, I don’t think a memo would have been needed, although I do remember letters coming home pre-class picture days. It’s at least a nice plaid shirt. I think he went on to be a lumberjack.
And he’s okay. 😉