Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Killer Pussy: A Memoir of a Semi Deranged House Cat.


Admittedly I have a sense of humor which is an acquired taste.  I have found that some folks can only take me in tinny doses because I lack tact, curse like a sailor and many times I am as surprised by the things that comes out of my mouth as the rest of you.  Some people may view this as being eccentric; I view this as being normal.  Honestly, how many people do you know who run a semi entertaining and successful fan page for their cat on Facebook?  Well you know at least one because I do and it is awesome!  However, last week something happened which may just take Killer Pussy’s fame and fortune to a whole new level, something that might make me seem even more eccentric than usual.  I was asked to write a book about Killer Pussy (not to be confused by the porn film with the same title).

Those of you who read my blog regularly know that I am well on my way to having a small petting zoo.  Our house is filled with fury critters and it is totally normal to have five cats, two bunnies, fish and a tortoise.  For heaven sakes we are gay and can’t have children so we have pets.  Lots of pets and they are all treated like royalty.  Hubby have warned me on more than one occasion that if I bring home one more animal then I either need to buy a farm or else.  And it is that “or else” that has prevented me from buying a gay donkey and calling him our make believe unicorn.  However, this blog post is not about a gay donkey but if you have one you should totally email me and not tell my husband.

Getting back to my cat’s page.  Running a fan page for your cat can be fucking exhausting.  Especially seeing as the two cats Killer Pussy is based on are witty, sarcastic, intelligent, mischievous, facetious, complicated and to top it all off they are also prolific killers.  Also taking into account that Killer Pussy’s page needs to be updated several times a day and the fact that it does sometimes involves a complicated thought process; I would not say it is something that just anybody would want to do or would stick to doing.  I am aware that people know it is me writing it, I am not that delusional!  But regardless of this all the feedback I have received from Killer Pussy’s fan page have been overwhelmingly positive.  Perhaps these people are as “eccentric” as I am.  They are cat people after all!  But if it entertains people and give them a humorous break from an otherwise dull day, I would say I have achieved my goal and unbeknownst to be somebody noticed.

So there I was last week minding my own business when I received an email with the subject line reading “Killer Pussy, a fan”.  My first thought was “What. The. Fuck.  My email address is nowhere on Killer Pussy’s fan page.  Could Killer Pussy have a stalker?”  Then I read the email.  It was from a South African based publishing company.  The guy said that he is a huge fan of my cat’s Facebook Fan Page and wanted to know if I would be interested in writing a book from her perspective.  My first reaction was to say no.  I mean really, like I have the time to write a book for my cat.  I always imagined that I would one day publish a novel but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine my first novel would be written as my cat.  I thought it was bizarre and that this guy was trying to take the piss out of me.  So I ignored the email.

A couple of days passed before I mentioned it to my husband, and then to a couple of friends and colleagues who were also fans of Killer Pussy’s Page.  They all agreed that maybe it was not such a bad idea after all.  None of them have ever heard about a book that was written from a house cat’s perspective.  So I chewed on the idea and then decided to start writing it to test the water and to find out how it would feel to take this on as a project.  I wrote one paragraph.  The first paragraph which is the most important paragraph of any book as it sets the tone for the rest of the book.  It took me five minutes to write and I sent it to my husband.  I anxiously waited for a response from him and when I finally got it I was taken aback.  He said that it was crewed bordering on vulgar.  He then immediately tried to minimize his reaction by saying “But I’m not your target audience.  You and Killer Pussy have many people who follow you and I am sure they would love it.”  That left me somewhat conflicted.

I know my sense of humor can sometimes be dark, even offensive to some.  My world perspective is also not always all sunshine and rainbows but I know funny shit when I see or read it.  After all, Killer Pussy did not end up at our doorstep dropped off by a stork; the bitch has a back story.  So what if her mother was a whore who only allowed her litter to suck on her teats in order to stay alive.  So what if having her asshole licked by her uncaring mother was a rare privilege while she was a kitten.  So what if she was conceived during a cat orgy.  Killer Pussy is a multi dimensional character and I was taking this shit seriously.  So I did what I normally do, I sent the first paragraph to my trusted critics who call a spade a spade and who would call my shit out if they had to.  If I were heading down the wrong track they would be honest enough to tell me so.

They all loved it.  Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of now having to seriously start writing this book, having to rekindle my relationship with my book agent in the United States who in return would have to whore my book around to publishers, I decided to take my first weekend off.  I was freaking out slightly and instead of finishing the first two chapters of my book I spent the weekend watching Season 1 & 2 of The Walking Dead.  It’s a perfectly normal thing for me to do when I am panicking: surrounding myself with Zombies (or like they call them “Walkers”) and a lot of blood and gore while eating junk food and staying in my PJ’s for 48 hours straight makes me feel safe and secure.  Don't judge me! I am starting with the book this weekend.  If all goes well you will have a borderline vulgar yet humorous novel written by Killer Pussy to read by the end of this year.  So watch this space bitches.

Till next time.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

The Best of FCKH8

Through the years the FCKH8 campaign has made several videos dropping the F-bomb on homophobia.  Here are  my favorite 5 videos.  Enjoy...

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Hormone Therapy: Not For The Faint Hearted

So I started with hormone therapy last week.  For those of you who are reading my blog for the first time, NO I am NOT in the process of getting a sex change!  I am menopausal and it fucking sucks!  It has been a week since I got the hormone injection.  As for those of you who are still naturally producing enough testosterone and don’t need to get it through a hellishly long needle every three months - I kind of hate you right now!  But that’s probably just the hormones talking.  Undergoing hormone therapy has its upside and yes you guessed it, also its downside.  So please allow me to explain it to you in unadulterated graphic detail.
So after my little blood test result clusterfuck that determined that you can suffer from early onset male menopause at the tender age of 35, I reached a cross road in my life.  It was not like I did not produce any testosterone but the levels in my system were much lower than what it should be (I always knew I wasn’t normal).  I had a choice: undergo hormone therapy or just leave it and enjoy the plethora of symptoms associated with low testosterone levels.  Seeing as I was not much in favor of the continued little tropical holidays I was suffering, anxiety attacks, living in a virtual freezer and having a libido as unpredictable as a schizophrenic beggar, I chose the hormones.  So last week Monday I made an appointed with my doctor to start the hormone therapy.

In my naivety I thought my doctor would keep hormone injections in stock at his practice.  I was wrong.  I was unceremoniously told that he would have to order it.  Also, seeing as my health care plan does not consider hormone deficiency as a “life threatening condition”, I had to pay for the therapy out of my own pocket.  Clearly the bastards at my health care did not consider that my condition could be lethal to other people if left untreated, but then again if I did kill someone I would have gotten free health care in prison, so in the end it did kind of make sense.  But I digress…
Seeing as hormone injections are not cheap my doctor wanted to make sure what the price was.  So as I was standing at his reception with a room full of people in his waiting area he shouted to the receptionist “Please phone our supplier and find out how much Nebido costs for Pierre!”.  I should add that if you say Nebido really quickly, as he did, it sounds a lot like Libido.  At that moment I could see the faces of everyone in the waiting room go all sympathetic as if they were thinking “Shame, he is so young and he has no sex drive.  Poor thing, I hope that helps him get laid again.”  I blushed and looked at the floor.  I did want to shout that it was for my hot flashes and anxiety but I did not see the point in being embarrassed any further than what I already was.  So I let the assholes go home to tell their families about the gay guy at the doctor's office who had to get a Libido injection instead.

At the end of the day the pharmacy at the same shopping center had the Nebido in stock at a reasonable price so I handed in my script, got the injection, paid and went to the nurse.  Luckily the nurse was very sympathetic, didn’t ask any questions nor say anything apart from asking me if I was afraid of needles.  Apparently she would have to inject the substance slowly as it was suspended in thick oil.  It was the longest 90 seconds of my life and also ranked in my top 2 most agonizing injections I ever had.  The fact that she had to rub my ass to make sure it gets absorbed was both painful and I felt slightly molested in a non sexual way.  If it was sexual it would have been gross as she was almost 60.  After she was done she asked me if I wanted the insert of the Nebido and I said yes.  Big mistake!
You see, the hypochondriac in me knows never to read the inserts of any medication that I am prescribed.  The OCD in me always insists on knowing exactly what I put into my body and what the side effects are.  The OCD in me usually wins to the great annoyance of my husband as I always believe that I am about to die.  After reading through the insert and hyperventilating because there was no way of undoing the injection, I accepted the fact that I could suffer a few unpleasant symptoms and that I just had to man up and deal with that shit if and when they occur.  The effect of the hormones was slow but there were a couple of immediate effects.

After the injection I did feel slightly light headed but that soon disappeared.  I then started to feel as if my body was waking up and there was a mild rush that pulsated through my body.  I started to feel better, more alive and as if I had more energy.  But with all things in my life I also experience a bit of waxing and waning as the testosterone was being absorbed into my system.  I would have moments of feeling euphoric, horny and like I could conquer the world then followed by being moody, generally pissed off, annoyed and antisocial.  All of which the doctor said was perfectly normal.  He explained that as my body was adjusting to the testosterone that was now introduced into my system and as the deficiency was being corrected there would be some ups and downs.  It was nothing to worry about and he assured me that if I did not believe him that Google would substantiate what he was saying.  My doctor knows me too well.  Before getting the hormones many people warned me on various social media platforms about getting the treatment.  Some of their warnings were quite frightening.
Some warned that I would go bold which is a truly terrifying prospect as I look like a drug addict and a convict without hair.  Others warned that I would be growing more hair which was disturbing as I cannot see myself joining the gay bear biker club and I do not feel comfortable in the bear leather gear getup.  I mean honestly, can you imagine me in a leather bar?  Then there were those who warned me that the hormones would make me a sex crazed maniac and that hubby would have to lock me in a room with lube and tissues.  Possibly even restrain me as I would become a complete and uncontrollable nymphomaniac.  Well, sorry to disappoint you but none of these things have happened.  Yet.

It has only been a week since I've been on the hormone therapy and I can definitely affirm that I do feel slightly different and that the hormones are affecting me both physically and mentally, mostly for the better.  I guess it is still early days and a lot more will change and happen in the days to come.  For the most part I am pleased that I decided to undergo hormone therapy as menopause is a motherfucker to deal with.  So what if I grow a thicker beard, some more chest hair and when my libido sky rockets like that of a teenage boy I am sure hubby will be the last one to complain.  The only real downside of this whole process is that I now also have to get my prostate examined yearly.  Having my doctor shove his finger up my asshole twice a year without being first bought dinner or drinks is the only thing I am not looking forward to.  My doctor isn’t even hot.  Fuck.  Do you think I should bring my own KY?  Will I want a cigarette after?  Guess you and I will have to wait and see.

Till next time.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Pride or Prejudice?


Miss Jones from the website The Modern Lesbian airs her concerns over the Joburg Pride debacle.  I happen to agree with many of the points she makes here. 
Earlier this month, the organisers of the Joburg Pride parade released a statement that sent shockwaves throughout the LGBTI community. They announced that they would no longer be hosting the event and this information spread like wildfire throughout the gay community, leaving many in disbelief. While most people started freaking out, I had a ton of questions rushing through my brain.

It’s no secret that I wasn’t exactly a fan of the previous committee (I’m sure my previous article, Profits vs People, is proof enough of that), but what made me angry, and I’m sure many others, is the fact that they left it this late. Pride usually takes place during the first week of October and we’re already heading towards the end of April. Hardly enough time for new roleplayers to take over and plan a massive event such as this one.

It didn’t take long for people to respond to this, by creating new groups and Facebook pages aimed at setting up a new committee and calling a meeting, inviting organisations and members of the public to attend and voice their concerns. We were very excited about this meeting because we thought the winds of change had finally come and the voices of an all inclusive LGBTI community would finally be heard. So we sent deputy editor of The Modern Lesbian, armed with our list of concerns, our eagerness to assist and the interests of the lesbian community at large into the meeting. However, what happened next, took us totally by surprise and left us disgusted for actually attending this meeting. Here’s a few highlights:
·       
        Very few people actually attended this event. It was mainly the people that organised the meeting, a former board member, hardly anyone from the press, hardly any representation from organisations and a few individuals with their own concerns.

·        The people who called the meeting were very adamant that a company be set up and that it remains a COMMERCIAL entity, and not an N.G.O, which upset a lot of attendees, as the basis of any business, unlike an N.G.O, is to make a profit.

·         While the whole commercial angle was spun, the question was asked why the previous board had collapsed and what the real reasons behind dissolving the previous entity was. This was dismissed. One attendee challenged the host by saying: “We want politicisation of Pride, not commercializing our rights!” A verbal attack from both parties followed. Many people got up and left the venue out of sheer frustration  According to the organisers of the meeting, the biggest issue surrounding Pride is BRANDING. (WTF? Really?)

·     What added fuel to an already out of control fire, was when organisers suggested that Pride 2013 be cancelled altogether, and that Pride 2014 should be focussed on instead.
·         
      Many attendees raised the concern that a lot of people could not attend due to the day and venue chosen, as transport and time was an issue. This was met with further animosity from the chairpersons as, in their opinion, everyone was invited.

·       Another gentleman, claiming to be the co-founder of Pride (unverified), then had a go at the attendees, creating the impression that he is more important than others there, and having more rights, as he’s the only one that understands what it takes to make a success of this event.

·       He also dropped a bomb of his own, that the previous committee had received a grant of R3.5 Million (his words, not ours!), to organise the event, but refused to comment or answer any questions regarding any spending by the previous board.
·         
     Attendees suggested that, seeing as not all parties could attend, a new committee should not be elected as yet. This was met with fierce opposition by the chairpersons and tempers flare once again.

·      At this stage a screaming match between the chairpersons and the attendees erupt, with statements such as “Pride is dead”, “Who elected you to call the shots” etc are bellowed and at this point, it seems more of an ego thing than an actual exchange of useful ideas. A parting shot is thrown at one chairperson: “You just want to be Pride Queen” because of frustration felt by attendees for not once having an opportunity to voice their concerns or raise their ideas!

The points raised above are not simply the views of our own attending correspondent, we also received a few statements from other attendees, which will be published in full on our website at a later stage. Among the statements made, Angela had the following to say: “My first thought about the meeting when I am reflecting back on it, was, that it was not what a lot of people expected. The chair person did not keep to the agenda and I think that this triggered the discussion that was at hand in the end. The idea of putting a board together out of one meeting with no background information, legal clarification or information on internal issues, and then asking people to step forward into director positions without looking if they have the expertise to assist in those roles, seems a bit naive.”

What an embarrassment to the local LGBTI community. Which brings me to my next, rather pressing question...what is Pride really about? Is it about the over inflated egos of those calling the shots? Is it about eager opportunists that can’t wait to line their own pockets? Is it about people or profits? Can a party not be accompanied by principles? If Pride started with a political agenda, why is any possibility of adding politics to Pride so quickly dismissed?

In South Africa we as LGBTI people enjoy a lot of freedoms that our cousins from abroad are still fighting for. We are quick to forget the fight for marriage and other equalities in the eyes of the law, causes that would never have gained any momentum had it not been for mass rallies such as Pride. We also seem to forget that there is a group of serial killers targeting gay men, and that the rape and murder of lesbians is not taken seriously by the powers that be because both of these issues are STILL not being seen as HATE crimes. We are also very quick to forget that our rights were challenged by traditional leaders in parliament last year, and only a few of us were willing to stand up to them. What I find very ironic is that the theme for last year’s Pride was “protect our rights” yet when a women’s rights organisation were trying to do just that, they were violently assaulted by Pride organisers and even blamed for the previous board’s decision to dissolve.

We have always supported, for free, any cause or event that uplifts the LGBTI community, as long as their efforts are not aimed at the pockets of the people they wish to attract. This is something we feel very strongly about. So again, I have to ask, why do we have to PAY to be GAY in SA? As previously mentioned, according to the gentleman attending the meeting, the Pride board was given THREE AND A HALF MILLION RAND in GRANT money. I’m assuming that doesn’t include corporate sponsorship, corporate partnership, the infamous pink money scandal, stalls and float applications. I’m sorry, but am I the only one thinking, where the fuck did all the money go? Did the previous organisers just cash in their chips and will the new board carry the interests of the LGBTI community as a whole, or are they just as keen to dive into our wallets? By the tone of the last meeting, this is definitely the tune that plays the loudest.

Let’s look at this another way, by comparing Pride to a similar event...

An international cricket match is attended by roughly 20000 spectators. There are food and snack vendors, beer tents and kiosks that supply refreshments. There are international VIP’s as well as entertainment. There is extensive media coverage. Security is world class and second to none. Cost to attend the event, roughly R100 a head. Right, so let’s take Pride’s R3.5 million grant and divide that by 20000. That’s R175 per head. Now, people will criticise this analogy by saying it’s not the same, but I beg to differ. Stadiums get sponsors and advertisers, so does Pride. Roads around the stadiums are closed off, so is the pride route. A lot of time, effort and money go into organising both events, the only difference is, with the exception of glass and alcohol, you can take your own food and drinks into a cricket stadium, you can use currency issued by the reserve bank and the experience also costs you a lot less!

By the look of things, the people that organised the meeting this past Sunday, is also organising the very first Pride parade in Pretoria on the 7th of September this year. Will it be about profits or people? Only time will tell. In the meantime, we’ve joined hands with a few of the organisations that had representation at the last meeting, and we will most definitely be at the next one to see if the new broom does in fact, sweep clean or sweep even more dirt under the carpet. 

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Saturday, April 6, 2013

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Male Menopause. Really?


I am still alive and well.  Mostly alive and slightly well.  I blame Saturn.  Or Jupiter.  Whichever is being an asshole.  Uranus seems too obvious.  You see for the last couple of months I have been feeling a little less gay than usual.  I have been exhibiting some odd symptoms that apart from being annoying as fuck also has been adversely affecting my husband.  Having to live in Polar conditions when it is summer has taken its toll not only on my husband but our animals too.  The animals have been preparing for winter since December, and autumn only just arrived this week.  Everyone in the house has been cuddling up under blankets except me.  I felt like I was living in a sauna and I thought everyone else were crazy for not realizing this.  So this week I decided to visit our village healer (otherwise known as my GP) to get some answers.  But the answer I got just pissed me off.

Sometimes last year I experience my first panic attack in my life.  It was the most horrifying experience I have ever had; apart from that time when I shit my pants and when I first realized that Father Christmas was actually my uncle.  The panic attack happened in front of a complete stranger and it was awkward for the both of us.  At the time it was written off as work related stress and I received the appropriate medication and it all but disappeared.  I thought I was fine but I wasn’t.  I had another one over the long weekend.  I had it in a big department store while shopping for a vacuum cleaner.  Not that buying vacuum cleaners are not stressful, but really I had no stress to speak off and the sensation of dying, not being able to breathe and the urge to run away caught me completely off guard and freaked my husband out a little.  Needless to say we did not buy a new vacuum cleaner.

Panic attacks are bad enough but it is not the worst of it.  I also have been experiencing little tropical holidays otherwise known as hot flashes.  I am having one right now.  Taking into account that taking off all your clothes at work and spraying your naked flabby body with cold water is frowned upon (at least at my place of work), I handle my hot flashes in a more socially acceptable manner.  My air conditioner in my office is set to blizzard conditions.  I work in a fridge and not only does this cold conditions delay ageing (I Googled it, so it must be true) it also keeps my body comfortably cool.  I could have chosen to be one of those people with the hand held fans that fans my flames of faggotry, but that seemed like too much of an effort and I prefer having both my hands free at all times.  Just because I am cooking from the inside out really should not hinder my ability to pay my bills.

At home things are not much better.  Our monster sized air conditioner in our living area is always set to freezing as is the one in the bedroom.  Our cats and bunnies have been shedding in preparation for winter for 5 months now.  Their fur is all fucked up because of it.  Our indoor tree is also suffering not knowing what season it really is.  I think it is going to die and haunt me in my dreams.  As for hubby he has taken out his winter PJ’s and he looks like an Eskimo at night.  All the while I am pouncing around the house as happy as a whore at a tourism convention.  Hubby has been enduring this like the trooper he is but on Monday he could not keep silent any longer.  With the animals looking disheveled, the tree loosing it’s leafs and looking desperate in the corner, hubby finally said something.

You know there might me something wrong with you.”  He said looking all serious.  “What are you talking about, I am fine.  My body just functions better in colder temperatures.  Maybe we should move to Canada.”  I responded.  “No seriously, I think you have a medical condition or something, you should have the doctor check you out”.  So I did what I normally do, I called my sister.  She was diagnosed with a thyroid condition which runs in our family and the symptoms I was experiencing were very similar to what she had.  Hot flashes, anxiety, panic attacks, sweating, hand tremors, itching and so forth.  Relieved that I might know what could be wrong with me I got a second opinion from the worst place possible.  WebMD!

Never.  NEVER try and diagnose yourself using the internet.  You will end up believing that you are going to die!  And die horribly! I went onto the internet to cross reference my symptoms with possible diseases.  What I discovered was that I could have thyroid disease, liver damage, gallbladder disease, pancreatic cancer, liver cancer and once all the remaining options contained the word “cancer” I stopped.  Depressed and scared as hell at that stage and not wanting to die from cancer I called my doctor and scheduled an appointment.  After listening to me ramble on about cancer and losing my shit in his office I was finally sent for blood tests.  Tests were done for my thyroid, liver and testosterone levels.  It would be 24 hours before I could get my results.  It was the longest 24 hours of my life.  24 hours spent expecting the worst.

I know that when you phone your doctor to get your test results and you are told to come in instead of being told the results over the phone that it is a bad thing.  So it took me several attempts to make the call.  The first 2 calls I hung up before they answered.  On the 3rd attempt I mustered up the courage to speak to the doctor.  He started off by saying “I have got good news and bad news.  Good news is your thyroid is fine.  Bad news is I am worried about your liver and your testosterone levels are very low”.  He proceeded to explain that I needed to wait two weeks and redo the liver test and if he is still worried I will have to see a specialist.  I have had liver problems before, so maybe it is a good time to check it out again.  However, it was the testosterone levels that worried me.

Apparently my testosterone levels needs to be corrected with injections.  He explained that I may be suffering an early onset of male menopause.  Yes, there is such a thing.  Shocked at this prospect I repeated my real age to the doctor probably 5 times using words unbecoming a lady.  He then proceeded to assure me that even though it is rare at my age it is not life threatening.  “But I don’t have erectile dysfunction or anything like that; sure my libido is a bit low sometimes, but menopause?  Just what I needed.  Fuck.” I thought when I put down the phone.  Wiping off some sweat from my forehead due to a particularly hot tropical vacation I suffered moments before, I was in a little bit of shock.  At least I was not dying of cancer.

So I may be suffering from early onset male menopause.  Next week I am starting my hormone correction therapy which involves an injection every six weeks.  If my hormone levels do not stabilize after a year, then I have menopause.  If it does, well then my body just gave me a 5 year early pre-fortieth birthday fuck you gift.  So hopefully after I start treatment I will be able to function at temperature levels “normal people” find comfortable and hubby will no longer have to warn people, behind my back, to bring jackets when they come to visit even though it is scorching hot outside.  Nicely played hormones.  Nice played.

Till next time.

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