Snarky be thy middle name


Cheech, my gay boyfriend, is in town from Oregon for a few days. He brought with him his new “boy toy”. And man, is he not joking about the “boy” part! I told him, after all these times of Cheech having a daddy, it’s about time he’s someone else’s daddy.

Oh, and the boy’s name is Justin.

Well, before your proceed, you have to know a bit of the back story here. At my wedding, Cheech was quite taken by Brandon’s best friend, soon to be a doctor, former Marine amputee, Olaina’s then boyfriend now husband Justin. Cheech nicknamed “the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen” Justin Eye Candy and lamented the fact that the man is straight. When we told Justin and Olaina this a few years later, they thought it was very flattering.

Now, back to the present.

“Justin? Cheech’s boyfriend’s name is Justin?” Brandon asked.


“Oh, Cheech. You did NOT!” Brandon hollered at Cheech.

Cheech turned around. “What?”

“Your boyfriend’s name is NOT Justin.”

“Yes, he is,” replied Cheech. “His eyes aren’t blue and he has all of his toes, but yeah this works out quite well.”

Brandon nodded. “Ahha! So you’ll never have the problem of calling out the wrong name now, eh?”


Cheech told us about this one time he was walking Boy Toy Justin back to his car around the corner from his house. The little neighbor girl was playing on the sidewalk. Cheech said hi as always. She said hi back and followed with a question.

“Is he your son?”

Being a responsible citizen that he is, Cheech stuck with the most PC answer of, “No, honey. He’s a friend of mine.”

I told him if that was me I would’ve said, “Why yes, I’m his daddy”, get a giggle out of yourselves, and the kid wouldn’t have known the difference.

See why I decided not to mother a child?


Nora celebrated her 30th birthday party at a wine bar in Fullerton. She was on her second glass of wine, quite a lot for Nora really. Somebody mentioned that Nora had to be a church the next morning at 7 a.m. and that she had a part in the service.

“Wait, you are reading something at the service tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yes,” Nora said.

“Well, then you’d better drink some more wine, sister.”


“Then at mass tomorrow you only have to take the bread because you’d still have the wine flowing through your veins at 7 a.m.”

And yeah, I’m probably going to hell for that one too.

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