Gay Men and their Imperatives

To care take for two gay men whilst struggling to becoming a Not So Famous author can be a daunting task for anyone. For that matter, most persons not of the homosexual nature, often group to towns together…when they are indeed world’s apart.

Fist up in the air
Mine used to be up there
You only give yourself away
Paint your roses black and blue
Use the fuck word I can too
When I have nothing else to say

Lesbians and Gay Men!
A group of Not Swinging Dick gals for instance find certain things are needed when keeping the fortress looking good as new.
Flannel shirts, a pair of shit kicking work boots, ducts tape- black, a hatchet, a Swiss army knife, angry lesbian music on the MP3 player and at least one out of control dog named after and ugly female relative. Say, Matilda or Gladys.
What is imperative to the gay male population? Often weird and not easily understood frump, pomp and circumstance and a sense of urgency when there had been none two seconds ago.

Love ain’t a dyin’ art
As far as I can see
Oh, sentimental me

With a house built circa 1804 water is always an issue. If it isn’t coming from the ceiling and can be spotted in the basement ALA Stephen King’s next novel. Of course, that point of get out of town quick and abort the mission seems of vast importance to me…I am a lesbian.
Water to a gay male means…is the pool filled, has Paula come to clean it and have we plenty of Fuji crystal clear from the belly of the Buddha bottled water for the guests?
As the words, I think the landscaper has decided to abandoned ship springs from the mouth of a weathered leathered lesbian.
The current quote of the month from the proud of rainbows male?
‘Lot’s of flowers, are there lot’s of flowers and make sure there are lot’s of flowers.’

You’d rather flip the bird
I’d rather show you signs of peace

Certainly this whole adventure has been placed on a learning curve for it is typically said of the gay female population…them gals sure know how to mow a lawn.
My curve is currently residing between the knee deep water in the basement and the vats of vastly populating vines of poison ivy hangin from those lovely potted plants.
In ending, when caretaking as a good earth lesbian the word ‘rustic’ should be thrown about often.
When dictating directions from somewhere in L.A., homosapien homosexual man with good intentions come ’round, the word of the phrase of the week is, everything should look pretty!

Here we go again
We may never change
So you can call me Pollyanne