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Let's be the life of a middle-aged WeHo gay men

I'm the black lacquered floorboards in the condo.

by Anonymousreply 6402/26/2013

I'm Rogaine.

by Anonymousreply 109/23/2012

I'm the money on the dresser.

by Anonymousreply 209/23/2012

I'm the brand-new leased car he can barely afford the payments on. I give him an increased sense of self-worth for exactly three weeks.

by Anonymousreply 309/23/2012

How do you know these things? I thought that middle-aged WeHo gay men were invisible!

by Anonymousreply 409/23/2012

I am the Black or Asian boyfriend.

by Anonymousreply 509/23/2012

I'm the closet full of A&F tee shirts and lowrise jeans!

by Anonymousreply 609/23/2012

I am the thin layer of oil that glistens on a freshly botoxed forehead.

by Anonymousreply 709/23/2012

I'm the quiet desperation, lurking in the corner of the usually empty living room.

by Anonymousreply 809/23/2012

I am the letter from the WeHo Town Council giving you 90 days to move to Silverlake.

by Anonymousreply 909/23/2012

I'm the refrigerator empty except for a bottle of wine, a loaf of artisan bread and expensive cheese.

by Anonymousreply 1009/23/2012

I am the delusion that he look younger than his age thereby causing him to dress and act foolish as he prowls the local bars and clubs fooling no one but himself.

by Anonymousreply 1109/23/2012

I'm the parking space in the condo's underground garage, which barely fits a Vespa, much less the owner's 2011 Nissan Altima. The "driveway" to the street is about the width of an office desk.

by Anonymousreply 1209/23/2012

I'm the decor in the condo, which has all the personality and individuality of a Mitchell + Gold showroom.

by Anonymousreply 1309/23/2012

I'm the Keurig machine on the counter, obsessed about and bragged about for weeks when no one else had one, now never touched anymore.

by Anonymousreply 1409/23/2012

I can't decide if I want to be the empty promise that I'll move away next year or the white leather couch that has been finally paid off after 6 years of payments.

by Anonymousreply 1509/23/2012

I'm the concealer and waterproof Lancome in the powder room.

by Anonymousreply 1609/23/2012

I'm your nervous mother, visiting from Iowa for the weekend, wondering when you'll find a nice girlfriend and move home.

by Anonymousreply 1709/23/2012

I'm the new iPhone 5, yet another temporary substitute for sex.

by Anonymousreply 1909/23/2012

I'm the oversized triple-matted, framed portrait of Bette Davis as Margo Channing, hanging above the mantle. I was passed down to my previous owner's younger lover, who will pass it down to his younger lover.

by Anonymousreply 2109/23/2012

We still have several parts left to cast:

Who wants to be the cattiness? The bitterness? The gossip?

by Anonymousreply 2209/23/2012

I'm the 2 bedroom condo, waiting at The Biltmore, in Palm Springs, for the day when my ego can't take WeHo anymore, and I retreat there to enjoy my last years, dining at El Mirasol, on Friday nights, Wangs, on Saturday nights, and ending up drunk , and alone, at the drag show at Toucans.

by Anonymousreply 2309/23/2012

I'm the collection of AussieBum and Rufskin bikini-style swimsuits that are all just a wee touch too small.

by Anonymousreply 2409/23/2012

I'm the enormous collection of +$100 cotton t-shirts with attention-getting things printed on them, carefully stacked in the walk-in closet. I will be carefully pondered and looked through and selected from before going out on Friday night; but no matter which item in me is ultimately chosen, no one else will either notice nor care.

by Anonymousreply 2509/23/2012

I'm the smelly leather flip-flops my owner refuses to give up, despite the pleas from his boyfriend.

by Anonymousreply 2609/23/2012

I'm the generic modern artwork, purchased from a catalogue, that has no meaning behind it and will never challenge anyone. Visitors will look at me and think, "Well that's pretty"

by Anonymousreply 2709/23/2012

I'm the eldergay who has lived there since the 80s & is paying just over $700 a month for a 2 bedroom apt off Harper.

by Anonymousreply 2809/23/2012

I'm the ever-enlarging collection of baseball caps, bike messenger caps, straw porkpies, and flat Irish caps, forever rotated among so as to disguise a bald spot.

by Anonymousreply 2909/23/2012

It's amusing to me to see all these truly ageist comments on here from twentysomethings that actually are one step away from living in a cardboard box under the nearest freeway overpass. Truly. Right now, you have your youth and your beautiful face and your gym-bod that you spend every waking hour working on. You have your totally flakey and superficial group of like-minded and totally vacuous "friends" that you see only at the bars, the gym, or the "bathouse" where you go to get off anonymously because you are not "functional" enough to have a true relationship with another man. Oh and then there are your "internet friends" who are just as self-absorbed and awesomely USELESS TO SOCIETY that you are. You're so strapped for money every month that you can't afford a car and take the bus everywhere or depend on "friends" to drive you everywhere. Hey it's part of friendship right to be a taxi driver for YOU? Sorry, wouldn't trade places with any of you VACUOUS HOTTIES for any amount of money.

by Anonymousreply 3009/23/2012

I am the anal warts, scheduled to be burned off as soon as my owner gets rejected by his next sex partner (the only one so far this year).

by Anonymousreply 3109/23/2012

I'm the telephone pole up r30's ass.

by Anonymousreply 3309/23/2012

I'm the Taschen Big Penis coffee table book that was browsed once with mounting (sic) disappointment due to the absence of uncut cock, and now molders under a sidetable above a cultural credentials-establishing volume on Frank Lloyd Wright.

by Anonymousreply 3409/23/2012

R30, instead of the bitter rant, you should have just started a new thread entitled, "Let's be the life of a twenty-something Weho gay man."

by Anonymousreply 3509/23/2012

I'm R30's meds. I haven't been touched in months.

by Anonymousreply 3609/23/2012

For all of you unemployed or under-employed and struggling young hotties in WeHo:

1-800-548-6047 Food Bank

or:

Regional Homeless Shelter 340 N. Madison Ave. LA, 9004 323-644-2216

by Anonymousreply 3709/23/2012

(R35) I would have but there was nothing to write about that subject. Totally. Sorry. It would have been fun.

by Anonymousreply 3809/23/2012

[r37, how did you imbed a clickable Skype number into the body of your post?]

by Anonymousreply 3909/23/2012

I'm the empty chair at the AA clubhouse on Garner waiting for you to come plop your dysfunctional, codependent, AIDS riddled ass in.

by Anonymousreply 4009/23/2012

This thread seems to have unleashed a monster. The young weho thread is 30+ post full from the same poster.

by Anonymousreply 4109/23/2012

I started this thread and I'm 46 myself (and also live in a gay ghetto). Chill the fuck out, r30, and get a sense of humor about yourself.

by Anonymousreply 4209/23/2012

I'm the never-unpacked and nearly-forgotten box of old CDs in the storage space.

Inside me are Stacey Q's "Better Than Heaven," Josie Cotton's "Convertible Music," Donald Fagen's "The Nightfly," and, much to the owner's shame, Manhattan Transfer's "The Offbeat of Avenues."

by Anonymousreply 4309/23/2012

[quote] Chill the fuck out, [R30], and get a sense of humor about yourself.

Not a hope there I'm afraid. R30 is too busy trying to squeeze her gut into a muscle shirt.

by Anonymousreply 4409/23/2012

I'm the 8x10 glossy headshot stuck to the bottom of a cardboard box in a dark corner of the hall closet. Unlike Dorian Grey, the visage in the picture is happy, young, and beautiful.

by Anonymousreply 4509/23/2012

I'm Mikey Trahant!

by Anonymousreply 4609/23/2012

Funny thread, but really it's going to happen to all of you queens. 30 is exactly right. I think the 20 year old (non stop texting even when they are in a conversation at dinner) gays are in big trouble. So many of you are useless to society and just want to gossip, hang out the abbey, do meth and backstab your friends. Good luck with that. Oh and you'll be here faster then you think!!!!

by Anonymousreply 4709/23/2012

R47, I would guess most of us on this thread are thirty-forty somethings poking fun at ourselves.

by Anonymousreply 4809/23/2012

Oh boo hoo hoo! They're making fun of me! Boo hoo hoo! How dare they--I'm rich!

by Anonymousreply 4909/23/2012

I'm Godfrey the purebred, ankle-biting rescue pet with a spastic colon. I walk in right turns!

My special diet costs the same as your house payment and I still fish cat turds out of the litter box!

I watch you and your tricks when you fuck. You've dropped guys I don't like in the past. You'll drop guys I don't like again in the future.

I eat the ice cubes from your scotch when you pass out.

by Anonymousreply 5009/23/2012

I am the money that gives an elder-gay a sense of relevance as his ever fading looks and increasingly bitter personality repel the younger-gays he so desperately seeks approval/attention from.

by Anonymousreply 5109/23/2012

I'm the iPhone charger. During your next fabulous cocktail party, I'm the most requested item because all your guests have been on Grindr looking for better people while drinking your booze.

I'm hidden in a dresser drawer. Those whores don't deserve me.

by Anonymousreply 5209/23/2012

I'm the pair of high heels from a dragtastic Halloween a few years back. I tend to make my appearance during the Victoria Fashion Show party you host so all your guests can "walk the runway" in me.

I am the life of the party until the fat, drunk guy sprains his ankle in me.

by Anonymousreply 5309/23/2012

I'm the velvet rage, responsible for so many of these problems! I was planted in Iowa and have blossomed here in WeHo.

by Anonymousreply 5409/23/2012

I'm a Felice Picano novel bought out of guilt and obligation (and because it was 60% off) at the closing of A Different Light in 2009. I have never been opened.

by Anonymousreply 5509/24/2012

I'm the 62 year old queen, sitting in my apt., on Larrabie,my,chihuahua Poncho,in my lap, watching the Oscars, alone , tearing up as Barbra sings "They Way We Were", and still wondering why Marky, my 25 year old Asian boyfriend, left 10 years ago, after we got in a fight over him taking the keys, and crashing the Camry, while driving home from The Spike, drunk. Where did the time go? And where is Marky ?

by Anonymousreply 5602/25/2013

I'm r47's $246K a year. I still can't make up for his desperation as he inevitably zeroes on 50.

by Anonymousreply 5702/25/2013

I'm the antidepressants to help cope with the fast fading dreams of becoming a "star".

by Anonymousreply 5802/26/2013

" am the money that gives an elder-gay a sense of relevance as his ever fading looks and increasingly bitter personality repel the younger-gays he so desperately seeks approval/attention from." R51

Oh sweety bless.

Do you actually think I need attention or approval from 20 year olds ? Bless. No I can get all the attention I need from buying a photographic book of good looking guys I can shut when I am bored. If I am rich enough I can buy an hour or two with one of them fuck them senseless and pay them - to leave. Either way I pay they can close their mouths when otherwise not occupied and they can go.

by Anonymousreply 5902/26/2013

Now,....which one of you white folks is gonna tell me what a WeHo is?

by Anonymousreply 6002/26/2013

We are the following 16x20 framed photographs:

Bruce Weber's "Copacabana Rio di Janiero"

Mapplethorpe's "Ken Moody and Robert Sherman"

Herb Ritts' "Fred With Tires"

by Anonymousreply 6202/26/2013

Fred with Tires

by Anonymousreply 6302/26/2013

I'm playing Rolf in the Burbank Community Playhouse production of, "The Sound of Music".

by Anonymousreply 6402/26/2013
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