Posted on February 20th, 2008 by Colin
Normally I am not one for gay hate. I might allow other authors to publish mildly hateful sentiments on this blog, but I rarely write about it. I do believe in carrying a certain amount of gay shame, but I think that’s healthy. But true honest to god hate against real, homosexual individuals is something I generally try to avoid, because deep down I really do believe in the power of community and solidarity. But I recently read something that struck my heart with fear.
So there’s this stupid, gay blog. It’s really not that big of a deal. It’s just two super gays who get a lot of traffic because they have mild and inoffensive senses of humor and compare their lives to Sex And The City.
Q: You know how much traffic you must get for using Sex And The City related keywords?
A: A lot. So even idiots can be famous on the internet if they tap the right resources for traffic. It’s the same reason the top articles on digg involve pugs “cleaning” your screen.
So as much as I find the blog dumb and mildly vomit inducing (sites like this are why GMSC was started), their way of living and thinking has always been totally non-threatening to me and my lifestyle. I would just think to myself, “Oh, it’s OK, those fags live in Manhattan. I’m safe here in Brooklyn from people who think $1,000 shares are a good deal on an apartment, that their lives parallel Carrie or Miranda from Sex And The City, or that Sushi Samba constitutes a fine dining experience. I can stay in my loft casually dining on New Brooklyn Cuisine and avoid all of that and laugh at it’s novelty from afar.”
But recently I found, much like the Cold War’s domino theory, the threat has slowly moved in close to home. But while the domino theory proved to be a myth, this threat is very, very real. Josh (whichever one… who the fuck knows) has moved to Brooklyn, or as he calls it, “Pulling a Miranda.”
I don’t think I watched far enough into the Sex And The City series to know what “Pulling A Miranda” really means. To me, it sounds like a masturbation act that involves melting butter on one’s nipples while reciting short stories from No One Belongs Here More Than You aloud. But I had a sneaking suspicion it meant the Joshes were encroaching on my turf.
I read the blog and was able to calm down. I mean, he moved to Cobble Hill, right? Who the hell cares about Cobble Hill. I mean, that’s where Heath Ledger (RIP) and Michelle Williams used to be shacked up. Plus it’s only off the B train or F train or some retard train like that. Borrrr-ing. He can go hole up there and I won’t care.
But then I got to the following passage.
Much later, after dinner on Bedford Street with Dylan and the Manchattan boys, we hit up the (newish) Williamsburg gay club, Sugarland. The only problem? We showed up at 11:15, apparently the equivalent of showing up at the hottest new restaurant in town at 4:45 p.m. and hoping to get the full experience… I’m glad I went, but I still have to say that Metropolitan is still my favorite gay bar in all of New York.
And that’s when I started to panic.
Stay the fuck away from my neighborhood bar, Josh and Josh! Metropolitan is like the sitcom Cheers and I’m like Rhea Perlman’s infamous Carla Tortelli. That place means a lot to me. Only replace the lines in the opening theme from “Where everybody knows your name” to “Where everybody knows what your dick looks like” and then you more get more to the heart and true ethos of the place.
This shit will be like the Crips vs Bloods. You wanna know what happen to the last dumb fag who tried to mess with my territory?
That’s what happened to the last motherfucker. And that was May 18, 2007. Imagine the damage I can do now that my powers have grown.
(truth of the photo: I was making out with someone outside Metro while very drunk. He leaned into me too hard causing me to stumble backwards and him to fall flat on his face. I then laughed all the way home and forgot who it was who had been damaged so badly in this make-out debacle.)
And now, a short piece of hate fiction:
Josh woke up around noon in his new Cobble hill apartment, his head pounding from a hangover brought on by last night’s episode of binge drinking at Sugarland. All he could remember was Josh putting his hands down his pants and saying they should finally do something about their long standing friendship. Josh had said, “Hey, why not? I mean we’re friends. We can do it like we’re friends, right?”
He rolled over and saw Josh’s brown locks peeking out from beneath the comforter. Soon afterwards, a small groan, like that of a pot bellied pig, seeped out from beneath the covers.
“Jesus… what did we do last night?”
“You don’t remember? Ha. My ass sure remembers. It’s as sore as a junkie’s chapped face in the middle of January in the East Village circa 1993.”
“Oh fuck. You mean we fucked?”
“Yeah, stud. I didn’t think you had it in you. You pounded me like a jackhammer tearing a new foundation for a luxury condo in Williamsburg.”
“Fuck fuck fuck. Did you have a condom on you? I just moved in, I don’t know where mine are.”
“No, I mean. I figured we’d be fine. Right? I mean we’re friends. I feel like I’d know if you had anything.”
“We may be best friends Josh, but there’s something I’ve been hiding from you. I’ve been HIV positive for the last 3 years. When we first moved here in 2005, I fell into a world I had never seen before. I was intoxicated by it. First I was just imitating Samantha on Sex And The City. Then I found meth. Then I started ending up at the West Side club on a regular basis doing it bareback for a sawbuck in the shower stalls. I finally wised up, started going to Barebackers Anonymous meetings at The Center, and got tested. You were just so busy being fabulous I thought it would be easiest on our friendship if I just pretended the whole thing never happened. I mean, I’m totally healthy, my T-cell count is great.”
“Fuck”
“It’s fine. It’s fine. Let’s just go to the doctor and start you on PrEP today. It greatly will reduce the risk. It’s still a little scary but…”
“Fuck you, Josh. I’m a blogger, I don’t have health insurance.”
[“I Heart Cobble Hill, Brooklyn (Or: Josh Pulls a Miranda),” Josh and Josh Are Rich and Famous]
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February 20th, 2008 at 9:21 pm
and yet i couldn’t help but wonder, is brooklyn gaydom the new destination? Will Bedford Street replace Prince Avenue? OMG SHOOT YOURSELF JOSH AND JOSH WITH BROOKLYN AND MANHATTAN AIDS!
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February 21st, 2008 at 8:04 am
TEVES fisty… pull a ‘GIRONDA’ and move your gay ass to chinatown! You can trade lame gay joshs for rad gay multiple-cell-phone packing china men. Oh and we could start a dance dance revolution team at the local arcade.
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February 21st, 2008 at 10:35 am
there’s a barebackers anonymous group?
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Fist Patrick reply on February 21, 2008:
Three years in outreach teaches you a lot of things, among them, that yes… BB Anon is a real thing that meets at The LGBT Center.
tristan reply on February 21, 2008:
the one in the village? is it hot or depressing?
Fist Patrick reply on February 21, 2008:
Yes, in the West Village. Soul crushingly depressing from what I heard. I never actually had to work at the condom table when they met.
Elliott reply on February 22, 2008:
Condoms are for cowards! Who’s with me?
February 21st, 2008 at 11:02 am
awww, let em go to metro… it’ll be the first time joshes ever got laid by someone more physically attractive than perez hilton.
no, i jest. but they should be there every time you’re there and i’m there. that way i can feed you jagerbombs and make you fuck with them while i video tape it. in fact? that should be a new blog in itself.
how to drive joshes out of brooklyn, into ronkakoma.
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vagenius reply on February 27, 2008:
ronkonkoma.
only on long island could historic indian names sound butt ugly (and become equated with party stores and minivans).
Eeez reply on February 27, 2008:
ok, ok. that was a “typo.”
Where are you from again? Manhasset? Saiville? Oister Bay? Port Geofferson?
February 24th, 2008 at 3:32 pm
wow - these guys make me want to get stabby
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February 27th, 2008 at 10:05 am
[…] you know what, guys? Forget what I have said about Josh and Josh Are Rich and Famous. The real enemies here are their […]
May 20th, 2008 at 11:16 am
omg… I kind of think I used to live with the second Josh. Gross. He was sort of the most awful person ever after.
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