TMI Questions: The War On Christmas, 2013

Oh, dear… it is that time of year.  Again?

To tell the truth – more than any other year, this one doesn’t feel like it. I see the seasonal décor everywhere, but it means very little to me this year.  I think it’s because everything I have planned on and done for the past seventeen years got tossed up into the air.  Whether it lands anywhere?  I guess we’ll see, but I’m not holding my breath.

Like many, the holidays are always bittersweet for me. Childhood memories battle with present realities.  I remember being so damn excited as a kid. But now it all feels as artificial and false as a celebrity-filled awards show.

I guess once I learned that Santa was not real, the blinders came off, and I have been suspicious of this season ever since.

Still… I do appreciate all the good people do for others this time of year.  That warms the heart… even if some of them are doing it for the publicity or to make up for all the shitty things they did the rest of the year. 

I like to light candles this time of year.  The simplicity of that flame burning in the dark?  That pretty much sums up the meaning of Christmas for me.

TMI QUESTIONS:

Questions designed to reveal Too Much Information

Link: http://tmiquestions.blogspot.com/

TMI Questions: The War On Christmas 2013

Which religion or faith do you belong to, if any?

Good question.  I am going to go with none of the above.  I am a practicing Catholic, but also a recovering Catholic.  I keep going to church because it’s an opportunity to sing with others that requires no rehearsal time.  I also like the general direction that the church is headed these days (Yay: New Pope, Boo: Mr. Nienstedt – you are not my archbishop, sir). 

But, ultimately I am either an agnostic or an atheist.  And I am getting comfortable with that idea.  I’ve always wanted to be a realist.  I’ve always strived to rid myself of magical thinking – which is what I believe most religion is at its core.  From what I have experienced it is all about money, control, and power – with unhealthy doses of narcissism, fear, shame, and very public expressions of some very strange kinks (which is what I believe homophobia to all about – it’s a kink – Mr. Nienstedt?  You is one kinky bastard!).

I have faith in the universe.

I have faith in the power of love.

I believe in the good of people. 

So many have lost sight of what is good and simple.  I think of people who want and need, but do not really want or need anything and feel sad.  They are greedy and selfish.  The media celebrates these people and tells us these folks are accomplished individuals, but… they are merely cogs in a shit machine.

I believe in happiness.

…and not long ago there was a time when I never thought I would ever feel that way in a million years.

I am one lucky schmuck.

What is your opinion of Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holidays?

Who cares? They are merely words.  It’s the intent of the individual speaking that matters.  If you say ‘Happy Holidays’ because you are being a politically correct bully? Then piss on you.  If you are wishing me a ‘Merry Christmas’ because you feel that you have God on your side and that other interpretations of the holiday season are ‘wrong’? Then shove a lump of coal up your poop shoot, you self-righteous thug.

But if you wish people either of those things and truly mean it, as in, you understand what a special, forgiving, gentle, and loving time of year this can be?

Then say whatever you want.

Mary Chris Moose to you, too.

Holiday music on the radio? When and how much?

A little goes a long way.  After a point it makes me feel like I have rats gnawing at the inside of my skull.

I like it (Xmas music, not rats).  It makes me sad.  It makes me think of pitiful shopping malls and unsold toys that sit on shelves without the hope of every having a home.

When I was a stupid little kid, I once stood inside a Wallgreens bawling my eyes out on Christmas Eve because of all the toys that were sitting on the shelves that nobody wanted. I couldn’t imagine how sad those toys would feel once that aluminum gate was brought down and the lights went out. My heart went out to them.

It also makes me think of this one Christmas album that had an illustration of a roaring fire, a trimmed tree, and Santa leaving presents on its cover. I loved that album.  It had a bunch of songs I have never heard anywhere else.  There was one that went…

“Ho, ho, ho, it’s Christmas

Happy, happy Christmas

Time to put the stockings up

Time to trim the tree

Time to something – something - something

For the whole wide world to see”

My mother did not want it and threw it out.  I rescued it and played it on this moldy old 1940’s phonograph in the basement.  I would play it all year long.  We had one of those giant octopus furnaces with the door that opened and you could see the flame.  I would pretend that was a fire place and decorate the furnace and surrounding area with discarded and homemade holiday decorations.  I’d also wrap up old toys in pieces of cloth and pretend they were presents. I would even do this in July!

Yeah…I was one fucked up kid.

Big surprise.

When do you start decorating? Do you?

I have a tiny plastic tree I pull out of a garbage bag shortly after Thanksgiving.  I plop it somewhere and plug it in.  I will take the time to straighten branches and move around the tiny ornaments so that it looks less like something someone found in the garbage, but that is the extent of my decorating these days.

I have always been about historical family-related ornaments and things from my childhood – like the cardboard crèche with the figures I used to pretend were paper dolls.  I would make up stories about them and put them in the wrong places in the manger scene. I would play with that thing for hours, as a kid – adding my Hot Wheels and having Action Jackson and Billy Blast-Off make ‘Special Guest Star’ appearances.  

Now?  Those things stay in their boxes. 

It’s comfort enough simply to know they exist.

White lights or multi colored?

Multi-colored. 

Then, if I leave the tree out until Easter, there’s some pink and green and yellow in there and I can pass it off as an Easter tree. 

Gift cards, cash or actually shopped-for presents?

I will happily accept any and all. 

Send care of:  uptonking @hotmail .com

And don’t feel the need to hold back or be modest.  Gratuitous demonstrations of affection are always welcome.

Thank you.

Oh.  You meant giving presents.  Pre-paid debit cards are something I specialize in.  I used to shop for stuff, but decided a few years ago to stop purchasing future landfill fodder. 

Giving people things they don’t want/don’t need?  Eh.

Christmas cards and or family update letters are...

Cards are cool. 

I like ones that feature Winnie the Pooh.  I also think Ren and Stimpy should come out with a line of holiday greeting cards.

Family update letters are the snail mail equivalent of Facebook pages.  In other words…

…fuck that shit.

I don’t need to know about every time one of your progeny makes a scholastic poopie.  Or where your precious family spent its vacation this year.  Or how much meth you are currently making in that trailer you have hidden in the woods.

That information is only of interest to… you.

The only thing worse than those letters?  Supposedly ‘clever’ family photos masquerading as holiday greetings.  Though I do enjoy drawing things on the photos with magic markers.  Mostly penises and mustaches and the occasional goofy glasses or crossed eyes.

Yeah, keep ‘em coming folks.

Snow is...

…for shoveling? 

I am already, after only three snowfalls, sick and tired of winter.

Shoveling snow seems so futile, like Sisyphus pushing that boulder up that hill. It never fails to piss me off.

Have you been a good little boy or girl this year?

I have been a… better man.  Since 10/26/13.  Okay, maybe only since 11/6/13, but the roots were planted back on 10/26. 

I can actually stand to be in the same room as myself again.  And the level of crazy anxiety has decreased measurably, though I still have my moments. 

Before 10/26?  Ummm… bad?  Or maybe misguided/crazy would be more appropriate.

Life without the crazy?  Pretty sweet.

Rapid Fire Favorites:

Food:

Year old popcorn balls wrapped in green cellophane which accidentally got packed away with the decorations the year before.

Soaked in Boodles Gin, they are delicious.

(I actually like mashed potatoes the best.)

Dessert:

A tub of Cool Whip with a side of inedible cookie decorations – like those little silver balls that you bust your teeth on (what the hell are those things?).

(No, actually, I like a nice piece of plain pumpkin pie, but only if the crust is on the crisp side.  I love the crust.)

Drink:

Pasteurized, homogenized, Kemps Egg Nog.  It’s like drinking latex paint mixed with formaldehyde.   Coats the throat so that even the largest glide with ease!

(No, I actually prefer a Boodles Gin martini, up, olives, side of ice; the perfect companion for any and all holidays – and in cases where family members are gathered, a requirement.)

Holiday Movie:

A Christmas Carol with Alastair Sim.

No, really.  The original is the best.  Although there is an animated version where I like thing one and thing two that live under Christmas Present’s robe; they are hella scary.

I also love the original animated version of ‘The Grinch’ featuring the voice of Boris Karloff.  Love that little dog.

Least favorite?  A tie between Jim Carey’s stupid Grinch movie and Seth MacFarlane’s ill-advised ‘Family Guy’ two-part Christmas special featuring in-bred elves, vomiting Santa, and carnivorous reindeer.  Oh, and let’s not forget Stewie and Brian’s home invasion where they slaughter an entire family only to learn that they got the wrong house.  Yeah. 

What Seth does to Christmas makes what Jim Carey did to the memory of ‘The Grinch’ almost palatable.

Holiday Music:

Favorite Song: Each Winter As The Year Grows Older

Favorite Holiday CD: Charlie Brown Christmas (Vince Guaraldi)

Holiday Tradition:

Recently it had been wrapping the holiday presents at this giant nursing home in St. Paul.  It was so much fun.  Hundreds of presents. 

Each year there would be one resident who would keep sneaking in and taking things she wanted – like a puzzle, or a pair of slippers.  It became a game with those of us wrapping.  We’d just keep wrapping away as our eyes followed her around the room.  It was rather sweet and very innocent. It also demonstrates just how much getting a present at Christmas means to the elderly.  So, please don’t forget them this year.

Last year we made ornaments and door hangings with them.  It was sort of a craft thing.  One lady ate a whole package of googley eyes before I could stop her.  I decided not to tell the woman in charge.  So all our Christmas Mice door knob warmers ended up with  hot glued raisins for eyes.

For the past seventeen years I have watched ‘A Christmas Carol’ with Alastair Sim with my business partner, so I am betting we will find time to do that again.

In my youth, my siblings and I would go door-to-door caroling.  I miss that.  It was an opportunity to try out weird harmonies and sing really, really loud. 

Last year I realized that I’d never written a holiday song, so I started one.  It is actually finished, but I need to fine tune it – I will probably finish it this season.

Bonus: Christmas Sex

What have you done under the mistletoe?

Kissed a boy (or two, or three, or…)

Have you caught daddy kissing Santa Claus?

No.  And good thing.  With my childhood I was scarred enough

Have you done it in a Santa suit?

I actually played Santa at a mall one year when I was in my 20’s.  I jerked off in that suit to be sure.

Only one really creepy thing happened as Santa.  Some dude followed me into the mens room so he could check out my goods.  Normally I appreciate that sort of thing, but hey, Santa is sacred.  Don’t be peeking at his junk!

Did you come down the chimney?

Fuck, yeah.  When I used to top, I spermed my share of chutes.  I rather miss those days.  More recently, for nostalgia’s sake, at the warehouse party or in the woods, I would, on occasion, blast one into a needy, greedy bottom who was hot for my form and begging for it. 

But, no more barebacking for this guy.  I’ve retired from the field (hopefully once and for all), setting my sights on something much more rewarding – a simple life, the kind I always imagined. Fingers crossed.

Just how merry have you made Santa's helpers?

As I may have mentioned on this blog, I was once a mall elf, too.  I worked solo, before Santa arrived and had a little toy shop full of mechanical elves.  There was a show I had to do every hour and I even had my own color book.  As the elf, I did a series of commercials, receiving the weirdest fan mail of my torpedo of a career.  Apparently ‘Spock’ ears bring ‘em out of the woodwork.

While I jerked off getting ready a plenty (usually in the garage/storage space adjacent to the mall office – those green tights got me going), no one actually sexually attacked this elf. 

I did get some very strange propositions in that toy shop, though.

Thanks for the great questions, Sean!

Wonderland Burlesque would like to take this opportunity to wish you and yours: a very Mary Chris Moose!

Hoppy Hollandaise!

Hippy Nude Queer!

Wonderland Burlesque Celebrates Milestones - Or Mild Stones, Depending On Your Take On Things

It has been an interesting year of blogging.  I’ve experienced a huge (relatively) surge in the number of hits and visitors to Wonderland Burlesque – an occurrence that is no accident. 

History

Back in May of 2007, I was a frequent visitor to certain Craigslist related forums.  My experiences there were less than stellar, as I was rather naïve about social media in general and, in particular, the ways of the internet troll.  Being an opinionated soul, I was a natural target for these citizens of the dark side and it was my interactions with them that were the catalyst for the creation of this blog.

The name?  It was simply a combination of a couple of my favorite things: ‘Alice in Wonderland’ remains one of my favorite books and I wanted something with a theatrical flourish with a sexy touch, hence the term ‘Burlesque’.  Later I would learn that there is a burlesque troupe in California with the same name, but, other than the fact that they trump me in search engine results, it has never bothered me enough to change the name.  They have yet to say anything, so I am assuming it’s a case of allowing sleeping dogs to lie.

However, whining about internet trolls proved not to be the stuff that blogs are made of, so I moved on to other things.  I remained clueless about promoting my blog.  The idea that anyone would bother read my scribbles never occurred to me.  So I paid little attention to the number of hits per month.  For the first four years my stats hovered around the 1,000 hits per month mark – surprising, in light of the fact that I was averaging a whopping seven postings per year for the first three years.  In 2009, however, I decided to take things up a notch and actually posted something I wrote once a week.

I viewed my blog as a kind of writing exercise, but also a means of expression; a kind of self-help, therapeutic release.  All blogs tend to be myopic and an exercise in narcissistic expression, even those that feature found pics or graphics.   It’s all about POV and for the longest time, Wonderland Burlesque had no POV.  No purpose to exist really, either. 

That all changed in 2009, when, not only did I decide to post once a week, but I also moved my blog in a more adult direction.  I decided to join the ranks of those blogs I tended to enjoy the most.  Sex had long been a major preoccupation for me, so why not blog about it?  Little did I know what a powder keg I was about to ignite.

For the next four years I morphed into a total sex addict, exploring the norm and the extremes of gay sex in the age of the internet.  Most of the posts during this time period reflect that evolution, which peaked in 2011.  By the beginning of 2012, I was growing a bit weary of all the energy and time I was spending in order to hook-up.  However, I continued to write about my sexual exploits, as honestly as I could without putting others or myself at risk.

While I did manage to post something once a week in 2009, during the next three years I would experience various personal losses that would cause me to take one to three months off from blogging.  Still, I managed an average of 42 posts a year.  Keep in mind that those posts were generally 2,000-3,000 words per post.  I envy (and enjoy immensely) those bloggers who post a single pic multiple times a day.  That seems a lot easier than writing 2,000-3,000 words.  But that’s not who I am.  It’s a lot of work, but I do enjoy writing on topics ranging from sexual exploits to popular music to political commentary. 

By the end of 2009, having achieved my goal of one post a week, I had a peak of 1,778 hits in a single month.  However, shortly after that the number of readers returned to the 1,000 per month mark.  

I wasn’t sure what to do, so I started looking around to see what other, far more successful bloggers, were doing.  In that process I began commenting on their posts and… lo and behold, I saw an upswing in the number of folks visiting my blog.  

After that, I began chasing the numbers.  In doing so, I noticed that posts with lots of sexy photos got better results.  Also, I began fine tuning my search tags for each posting.

My ‘Acquired Tastes’ series garnered quite a few hits, with one (Acquired Tastes XXIV: Gay Erotic Illustrations) currently closing in on the 15,000 mark.  For about four months that post was the number one google search when inquiring about Gay / Erotic / Art – which surprised me.  It has since been overtaken in the listings by other sites devoted to that topic. I stopped the series after #35, but may pick it up again.  We’ll see.

Sean’s (Just A Jeep Guy) TMI Questions have also proven rather popular.  I tend to take liberties with the questions, frequently allowing stray thoughts to hijack my answers, but it makes for interesting writing (and hopefully good reading).  By answering Sean’s questions I have surprised myself on a number of occasions and perhaps shared too much.

Oh, and by the way, I am aware that there is, on occasion, something rather odd going on with Blogger’s/Google’s stat reporting.  So who knows how accurate any of these stats are truly? I have chosen to believe that they are at least in the ballpark of what is happening with my blog.

The number of comments a given post has grown as well, which I really appreciate.  I love hearing from people, especially my blogger friends.  Sometimes you ask questions, but, oddly, I always feel odd about posting answers to those questions.   

Recently I discovered Google+.  And while most of my postings there are frequently flagged or removed (they have a thing about explicit erotic posts), I have found one group that will post my stuff and leave it up.  I will continue to offer up new and classic posts on that site (until that site is shut down). 

In any event, during this past year: beginning in November of 2012, I have seen the number of hits per month triple or maintain almost every month.  It peaked in September 2013 with 22,642 hits. 

It has since been sliding because, well, I am just not that interested in writing about sex these days.   That probably has to do with my total lack of interest in hooking up for anonymous sex.  As I’ve mentioned previously, I no longer have profiles on any hook up sites and no longer use Craigslist either. 

My focus has been, well, rather monogamous lately.  And no one is more surprised by that than ‘this guy’.  I believe that I have written quite a bit about how I don’t believe in long term relationships.  Turns out life can teach an old dog new tricks (no pun intended).

That downturn in hits per month may also have to do with the limited number of posts I have been doing.  If it wasn’t for Sean’s TMI Questions, I wouldn’t be posting much at all. 

I’m rather at a crossroads, both with my writing and my personal life.  And in no hurry to define or redefine either at this time.  For once, I think I will allow life to merely merrily roll out what it will, having adopted a healthier ‘come what may’ attitude about things.  I have certainly learned my lesson regarding forcing things into being and the unnatural conditions that kind of pig-headedness frequently results in.  That said, I have hope(s) for the future and can actual say that I am happier and more grateful than I have been in many, many years.

Well, I just felt like sharing some of those stats with you.  Here are a couple more that I think rather remarkable, considering the type of blog I write:

In November of 2013, Wonderland Burlesque hit the 200,000 hits mark.

In October of 2012, I had 11 followers, and, as of this writing, I now have 150. 

This marks my 300^th post! 

Both those and my other stats may seem like small potatoes to those of you who have millions of hits and hundreds of followers, but I’m very happy about them.  I sometimes have to remind myself that people really don’t have either the time or the inclination to digest 2,000-3,000 word posts, or care about a given recording artist and their sales history as much as I do.  I totally understand that.  Sometimes I don’t have the patience to wade through all of my favorite blogs either, let alone comment.  So I get that reading can be something of a chore.

Which brings me to one of the primary reasons for this particular post; see: it’s not (always) just about me tooting my own horn (pun intended).  I wanted to thank the many bloggers who have served as such excellent examples of what it means to blog – many of which are featured on the right hand side of my blog. 

Your support, comments, and interest is what has helped me power through the many times when I simply wanted to walk away from ‘Wonderland’ forever.  I’d list you all individually, but

then would run the risk of leaving someone out.  Just know that you have a big fan, here at ‘Wonderland Burlesque’ and that I really appreciate what you do.

I’ve learned so much from you and while I have never met any of you, in a way, I am grateful for your friendship (such as it is) along with your many comments and words of encouragement.

So, that’s the state of the union, here at ‘Wonderland Burlesque’.  I don’t have any concrete plans at this time, other than to continue answering – as honestly as possible – whatever questions Sean dreams up for a given week. 

In the meanwhile, I’m simply waiting for the universe to reveal what’s next. 

Trust me, my eyes are wide open!

TMI Questions: Kiss the Cook!

Someone’s in the kitchen with my heinie

Someone’s in the kitchen I know-oh-oh-oh

Someone’s in the kitchen with my heinie

Stuffing my big old hole…

(Sung to tune of ‘Someone’s in the Kitchen with Dinah’)

Sigh.  Yes, there is one hole more important than ‘my big old hole’.  And that be my pie hole.  It likes to get stuffed, too.

I love food.  Comfort food being the best.

I love making mashed potatoes.  And that is pretty much the extent of my culinary repertoire. Still, that has not prevented my delusional self from wasting expensive ingredients in the hopes of becoming a chef.  In my wake?  Lots of burnt, under-cooked food and a sink full of hard to clean pots and pans.

Still, I soldier on…

TMI QUESTIONS:

Questions designed to reveal Too Much Information

Link: http://tmiquestions.blogspot.com/

TMI Questions: Kiss the Cook!

How good of a cook are you?

Pretty average.  I aspire to be a bit more, but, sigh, am too lazy to actually do everything one needs to do in order to be a better cook.  You know, like take classes, pay attention to recipes, and, ummm… actually cook. As in, on a regular basis; familiarity breeds efficiency breeds well-prepared food.

There was a period of time when I was into meat and potatoes meals featuring heavy gravies (I thought I was Betty Crocker and that was the way to a man’s heart) but I took a lot of short cuts and hence don’t consider that actually cooking.

And that pretty much sums up my skill level in the kitchen.  If I put in a little more effort I might be better.  I certainly enjoy it and enjoy learning more about food preparation.  However, I do not consider opening cans and heating things or boiling water real cooking. 

Who taught you how to cook?

Self-taught.  And in the beginning I was not very smart about it at all. 

Frequently, with my theater schedule, I would eat things straight out of the can, usually late at night, lying on the floor with a tiny black and white television providing the only light in the room.  I would then use the can as an ashtray before falling into an anxiety-induced coma.

A collection of cans would form around my mattress on the floor… mostly pork and beans, or green beans.  The cigarette butts that filled them adding to the room’s ambiance.

If the gods be kind, at some point I would end up getting laid, and before the person I dragged home woke up in the morning I would tidy up the place and those cans would disappear.

Yeah, I was a pig.  And not the fun sexy kind, either.

Now the kitchen is my favorite room in any home.  And it doesn’t need to be much or very large.  But I have come to respect it.  It offers me a lot of comfort.

Who does the cooking in your home?

Me. 

Though, I actually spend more time preparing meals for my dogs than I do for myself.  Their food involves a sweet potato-based dry food which needs to be pulverized in a Cuisinart, before adding crushed cooked carrot, chunks of lean white chicken breast with a bit of broth, and a teaspoon of a special powder containing glucosamine among other helpful things.  Mix in a bit of hot water before microwaving for eight seconds, stirring occasionally.  Be sure to check the temperature before serving.

Yeah.  Kind of nuts when it comes to those dogs.

Me?  Boil a box of dry pasta, open and heat a can of sauce. Sit in front of television and consume.

Yeah. It’s a life.

Do you cook more or eat out more?

Currently eating out a lot.  Maybe, way too much.  (And thank God!)

But I’m in that whole ‘getting to know you’, ‘making an effort’ dating mode; which I enjoy immensely (I can’t stress that last part enough – I am a fortunate schmuck). 

But it is expensive. 

Still.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Restaurants are neutral ground for testing the ‘I can put up with that’, ‘that is not a dealbreaker’ kind of conversations. 

You know, like:

“I was a big slut before I met you.”

“Well, how big of a slut.”

“Umm.  Known in several states, big.  I sort of used to blog about it and kept an excel spreadsheet detailing my exploits.”

“Really?  Huh.”

“You want me to send you a link to the blog?”

“No, but… You can pay the check now. I have to go home.  I think I left one of my cats on the stove.”

Are you more of a cook or dessert maker?

Cook.

Not much into desserts.  Though I did go through a period when I was making these huge, multi-layered cakes with fruit fillings and the most awesome butter cream frosting made with Wondra flour.  They were delicious and frequently quite beautiful.  I even started a photo collection of them.

I began making them for other people – birthdays, anniversaries, mid-life circumcisions…

Then I got drafted for a wedding at this resort in Duluth.  The ceremony took place on the shores of Lake Superior.  The woman actually rented me a suite with a stove so I could bake her wedding cake on the premises the morning of the wedding. 

I made the mistake of bringing my OCD business partner with.  He’s a control freak and basically took over the actual cake creation after he’d obsessed about it most of the week and then peppered me with trouble shooting / what if scenarios the entire day before the actual wedding.  He took control of the whole thing and I just stood around wearing a Charlie Brown ‘life sucks’ moon face.

I sucked it up.  But that experience ruined cake baking for me, and I have never made one since.

What was your worst/funniest cooking moment?

Thank you for asking.

This was clueless, eat-out-of–the-can, me. 

A theatre company that I was part of had a tightknit core of eight actors who selected the plays each season and were featured in all the shows imploded mid-season during our second year of production, due to personality clashes and creative differences.

Unfortunately, we had booked theater space for the remaining productions and that meant, not only was the company on the hook for honoring those rental contracts, but that meant the company would lose all that down payment money.  We’d also made a commitment to several other actors who had planned their theatre season based on our season.  So, I decided to host a tiny dinner party, inviting the two members I was most interested in continuing to work with (who happened to be gay and still speaking to me). 

Being a clueless clod, I decided that creating a salad bar would be the foolproof way to go.  Unfortunately (for my guests), my only experience with salad greens centered on iceberg lettuce.  I also had no idea how much three people could eat, so I bought three heads, just to be safe.  Celery, carrots, green peppers, etc.  Anything I could remember seeing at a salad bar I bought and chopped up.  I ended up with enough food to feed a small battalion or all the customers during a dinner shift at the local Sizzler.  If I’d had a sense of humor about myself at the time I would have laughed, but instead, of course I internalized the experience, ashamed of my lack of common sense. 

Fortunately one of the guys kind of knew I was a clueless oaf and he brought some wonderful weird beet-based soup.  He was also the only one interested in soldiering on, honoring the commitments the company had made.  He played George in my production of 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?' and went on to be my best friend for twenty years. 

Then there was the lesson of ‘Never cook fish on a first date’. 

Turns out cooking a meal for someone you don’t know very well on a first date is a bad idea.  Number one, you are in your home, so there is potential for you to come off as a sort of tragic Tennessee William’s heroine, especially if you play cryptic ballet barre exercise music on an old phonograph while explaining why your Christmas tree is still twinkling in your bedroom mid-March.

Secondly, one tends to over-think one’s table settings, making for a Victorian age sense of propriety not normally associated with hoping to get a little something-something at the end of the night. 

Yeah.  Dude fled my apartment before dessert arrived.

Can you blame him?   

I think he said something about leaving one of his cats on the stove... or something.

What's your best dish?

Vegetable stir fry with brown rice, I guess.

I like making spaghetti, too, but cheat.

And grilled cheese with tomato basil soup (again, I cheat). 

I used to make a kick-ass chicken and dumplings (cheated).

And soups. Homemade!  The best.  (No cheating!)

Is revenge a dish best served cold?

I don’t believe in seeking revenge.  I simply offer up my experience to the universe and let karma take its toll.

Sometimes it works a bit too well.

I had a production of ‘Boys in the Band’ where the cast mutinied a week before opening (after all the hard work had been done).  It was based on greed and devastated me (also, I was informed that I had hurt their feelings). I ended up moving to the middle of Iowa for a year to recoup, before fleeing to L.A.  

During the three years that I was away?  Three of the cast members died – two of which were the biggest instigators of the coup!   (One of them hurled himself into the mighty Mississippi!)

And those were only the ones I heard about.  Who knows what happened to the rest?

That was proof to me that evil begets evil and that the universe has a way of taking care of these things. 

These days?  I am very careful not to wish people ill.  I may not wish them well, but know better than to wish them ill.  That shit will only come back and haunt you, baby.

Is the best way to a man's heart truly through his stomach? 

No.  That would be his anus.

Trust me on this.

It’s called a prostate massage.

Bonus

Have you made whoopee in the kitchen?

Yes.  And so what.  Fucking on a kitchen counter isn’t that big of a deal.

But being fucked while bent over a running dishwasher? 

Now that’s some fancy cooking.

Which foods have you used to spice up your love life?

Is Gin a food?