America, I can’t even with you right now.

So, that happened.

You know the racist grandpa you have who always gets a little too drunk at Thanksgiving and starts spouting off about the good ol’ days when America used to be great? Well, he ate an entire bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, sharted himself, and that orange tainted hershey squirt in his underpants ran for president. And it won.

I’ve screamed. I’ve cried. I’ve closed all the blinds in my apartment and eaten a fuckton of McDonalds naked in my bed while screaming and crying. We all mourn differently. The point is, this fucking sucks.

Two things in particular have kept me going. First, imagining the moment I get to say “I told you so” to any Trump supporter or protest voter as the world implodes and we all burn to our well-deserved deaths. Granted, this is not very productive. But sometimes it’s the little things.

And the second thing — and I mean this with as much sincerity as I can muster during this dark period of my life I will later most likely dub as my “bathing strike” — is the sense of community that I admittedly take for granted until something shocking happens. I truly do have the most wonderful compilation of friends and family and coworkers and neighbors. Straight people, gay people, women, men, survivors, people who are different than me, people who are pretty much the same as me, people who love me, people who probably just tolerate me because I do my job decently and it’s just so hard to replace a post supervisor these days, and also interviewing people is exhausting uugggghhhhhh.

Thank you to everyone who has texted me, visited me, called me, Facebook messaged me, emailed me. I also thank the people who have WhatsApp’ed me, even though we can all agree it’s a garbage app. Thank you to those who sent me funny GIFs to lift my spirits. Thank you to those who sent me petitions, which I fervently signed. Thank you to my neighbor who held the elevator door open for me. No thank you to the bird who pooped on my car. Come on, Bird. It’s rained enough shit over the last 18 months.

I’m not sure what I’m trying to say, or if there is even a point to be made. Maybe this: love always seems most palpable when times are darkest. Going forward, I’ll do my best to make sure I don’t take this love for granted, and I will do my part to spread as much love as I can. Because without love, we are all just one Flamin’ Hot Cheeto away from being our racist sharting grandpa.

1531 days and counting. Xoxo,

Mac

Dating At The Cusp Of 30

Ugh, dating is hard. Now imagine you’re 27 and dating. I know, my life is pretty much over. Might as well adopt three cats and learn how to knit.

The last time I was on the market I was 24. I was young, energetic, full of life, and suuuuper stupid. It’s the perfect combination for putting yourself out there. Now I’m perpetually exhausted, I’m lazy, my skin sags in funny places, and I refuse to put my belt on if it’s after 9pm. Because that is utter. insanity.

Here are some things that I should not say to potential suitors or put on my dating profiles, but would if I was being honest:

• Yes you can come over, but if I’m wearing sweatpants and drinking wine from a box, is that a dealbreaker?
• Is that your French bulldog in your profile pic? And its name is something cute like Watermelon? Marry me now.
• No, I cannot go out tonight because if I’m hungover at work tomorrow I will never forgive you. Oh, you’re buying? Twist my arm.
• You work in retail? …. Sorry.
• You want to be an actor? …. Sorry.
• You wait in line for clubs? …. Sorry.
• It’s okay if you’re religious, but just know that I’ll always feel smarter than you.
• You can flirt and make moves all you want, but if I’m not horizontal by 10pm, it ain’t happening.
• Are those corduroys? Get out of my car.
• Have to cancel. Too bloated. Call me tomorrow.
• Don’t tell me I’ve had too much to drink! Just stop paying for them!
• My dream date is going over to my friend’s apartment, drinking wine and ordering Pizza Hut. You can come too, I guess, if you like their pretzel crust.
• If you don’t like Kristen Wiig then you are most definitely a sociopath.
• No, I don’t want to make out. I paid 18 bucks to see this damn movie, leave me alone!
• At any given time throughout the day, there’s a pretty decent chance my breath smells like tofu. Or vodka.
• Am I kinky? Well that depends. One time I woke up and my sleep mask was around my ankle. I was by myself.
• You can take me to Mexican food if you don’t mind that I shit my pants.
• I like vicodin.

A Love Letter To The Ladies In My Life

To many people close to me, it’s not a secret that I’ve had a shitty start to 2015. Losing a loved one is a hard thing to handle. The sudden vacancy in your heart feels like it will never be filled again. It’s a strange, larger-than-life hollowness, made even more bizarre by all the friends that come over to mourn with you. “Fuck him,” they say. “He was a cunt” was another bold reaction. “I’ve had better conversations with a chalked-on smiley face that’s drawn over the dumpster on my apartment building.” To which I responded, “Who are you? Please get out of my car.”

To those who don’t know: my boyfriend left me in January for a hot piece of ass at his work, whom he’d been having an affair with for all of three weeks before he decided it was true love and left our three year relationship behind. God, what a catch.

But enough about him. I’ve rounded a corner. I’ve been listening to a butt ton of tasty breakup music, and now it’s time to focus on the silver linings. This is a love letter to all the strong women in my life, who lifted me up out of a shitty situation and helped me realize that it was his loss, not mine. 

First and foremost,

To Beyoncé:

As a gay man, it seems sacrilege to admit that I actually wasn’t a huge fan of yours until I met my now ex-boyfriend. I mean, I’d heard of you. Duh. I’m breathing. But he was so obsessed with you that out of sheer curiosity I started listening to your music. And hot damn, was he right. For Valentine’s Day I took him to your Mrs. Carter World Tour. He cried for fifteen minutes when you came on stage, overwhelmed by wonderment. And it pleases me to no end knowing that his idol, his hero in life, his inspiration, would be appalled and ashamed of his actions (songs like Resentment, Best Thing I Never Had, and Irreplaceable are just a few that prove my point). You would no doubt side with me and tell him to fuck off, and that’s the fire that gets me up in the morning. That, and my alarm clock is Freakum Dress.

To Marieke:

Thank you so much for being one of my new best friends. Sitting with you at brunch for three hours and drinking bottomless mimosas while you listened to me bitch and moan was simultaneously cathartic and delicious, and the fact that I got a phone number out of it from the host is half your doing. Anyone looks good when they’re sitting next to you. You bring out the best (and the drunk) in people, and I’m blown away by your intelligence and kindness and patience. And also, when your back is turned, I’m stealing Charlie and fleeing the country. #sorrynotsorry

To Frankie and Sera:

You’re British, so you win. You’re both cooler than me, you’re more talented than me, and you’re more worldly than me. I have no idea why you’re friends with me, but I’m thankful every day that you haven’t figured out yet that I am the weakest link, goodbye! If you two write another damn love song that I have to sit through and watch as you both swoon over each other, I’m going to stab my eyes out with the shattered pieces of my broken heart. Seriously, your happiness makes me want to projectile vomit all over the other half of my bed that is now eternally empty. Just kidding, loooooove youuuu guyyssssss!

To Chiara and Gina:

To the best bosses and the best friends a boy could ask for! I have to sit with you ladies for up to twelve hours a day, and usually those are the best twelve hours of my day. (Don’t tell my roommate.) Thank you for pretending I’m good at my job. I still have no idea what I’m doing. What’s a layback again? But Gina, if you suggest another 30 Day Challenge, Chiara and I are quitting on the spot and calling Child Protective Services.

To Kate Lynn:

God damn we are hot messes. We are shining examples of how your mid-twenties can go incredibly wrong. Just kidding! We’re amazing and hot and sexy and total catches. (Is it working?) You were there from the beginning, you’re the first person I told when I unearthed the clues of the affair, and you’ve been nothing but honest and objective while also completely hating his guts. Sometimes you gotta hear what you gotta hear, and you’re not afraid to speak your mind and say what needs to be said. Also, you drink like a sailor and you introduced me to Saucey. And for that, I will never forgive you.

To Alex:

You are a tiny ball of crazy Buddha energy. I have no idea how you keep up your schedule and still make time to see me and listen to me bitch. It’s incredible. You read a room like nobody’s business and you know when I need someone to talk to, and when I need someone to just sit with me so I don’t feel lonely. It’s an invaluable quality, no doubt rooting from your crazy Shambhala nonsense. I could take a lesson from you and your meditative ways… but I’m not going to. Your shelves look amazing.

To Amy:

You are my sister-wife. I’m fairly certain I’m not using that term correctly — because neither of us are Mormom — but that’s what it feels like to me. You are always there. Always. There. For real though, you wore the pants when I needed you to, and you are the one who actually asked my ex to move out, something I would never have been strong enough to do. You’re a true friend and the best roommate I’ve ever had. It’s too bad your fucking cat is the absolute worst. Seriously, without that little shitstorm I would probably say you’re the best person I know. But I can’t, because you paid for that tiny asshole covered in fur, and for that I will always judge you. Your mom is super cool. (Hi Brenda!)

To Maggie and Annika:

I’ve known you ladies too long to be nice to you. You’re a gaggle of crazy bitches, and I’m constantly thinking about the next time I get to paint the town with you. We’ve done so much stupid embarrassing shit together that I can’t believe one of us hasn’t died. It would probably be you, Annika. You are a real dumbass. We’ve been friends longer than I’ve been out of the closet, and I’m honored to be included in your very exclusive friend group. Seriously, you guys have no other friends. I can’t think of a single one. It’s flattering.

To Mom:

Every shade of my personality is derived from you, whether good or bad. I personally think you raised a really good kid. Dani has a bright future ahead of her.

To All The Other Strong Women In My Life:

I’m sorry if I didn’t include you specifically in this post. The whirlwind of the last two months happened so fast that I clung tight to the few people who were close to me at the time, until I was ready to let everyone know my long-term relationship had come to an end. But know that I love you, I appreciate you, and I probably have something very salty to say about you as well.

As every gay man should, I’ve surrounded myself with the best ladies a boy could ask for, and the love and support I’ve felt in the last six weeks is stronger and more sincere than the love I received from my last relationship. If just one of you ladies has a secret penis, please let me know. Then all my problems are solved.

xoxo,

Mac

It All Comes Down To This.

Alright everybody. For those of you that have been watching, many many thanks! I really do appreciate all the support.

Here it is, the FINAL EPISODE of Those With Class.

Laugh. Enjoy. Share?

-Mac

A Letter To a Chick-Fil-A Consumer.

Dear Friend of a Person Who is Dear to Me,

This whole Chick-Fil-A thing is getting pretty out of hand.

Yesterday, someone very near and dear to me had an extremely rough time because his friends and family were posting pictures of themselves eating at Chick-Fil-A. He disagreed with the pictures, so he posted the HRC’s response pic.

His friends commented on the picture, but one comment got to me in particular. You, the Friend of a Person Who is Dear to Me, said that all Chick-Fil-A President Dan Cathy did was say in an interview that he agreed with the Bible, and that there is nothing wrong with that. This, my friend by association, is not the truth at all, and it is NOT why there are so many people upset.

If all Dan Cathy did was say that he believed in the traditional family as stated in the Bible then there wouldn’t be much of a fuss. (This is something we could get into, but we won’t… Okay, maybe just a little. I posted this quote on Facebook recently: “The fact that you can’t sell your daughter for three goats and a cow means we have already redefined marriage.” Yup, that about sums it up.) People are allowed to believe whatever they want. They can think that some white dude found some magical plates in a field. They can think that aliens had a nuclear war on Earth. Or they can think that a carpenter-turned-mystic walked on water and died for their sins. Hey, whatever lets you sleep at night.

But when your beliefs start effecting the lives of strangers, that’s when you lose me.

To the Friend of A Person Who is Dear to Me who mistakenly claimed all Dan Cathy did was say he believed in the traditional words of the Bible: You are 100% incorrect, and you should be embarrassed by your ignorance. Do you really think people are up in arms because he said he’s a Christian? Are you actually buying Fox News  when they claim there is a “religious war” happening? Do you honestly believe everything is that black and white, and that when someone questions the morals and ethics of an outspoken Christian, they’re attacking your core values?

Chick-Fil-A has donated millions upon millions of dollars to groups disguised as “Christian organizations” so that they can be protected by people like you when they lobby and push and promote anti-equality policies and legislation through our government. It has donated over $5 million to organizations like the Family Research Council, which, among other things, spent $25,000 lobbying that US Congress should NOT condemn Uganda’s “Kill the Gays” bill.

According to the FRC’s mission statement, the “Family Research Council champions marriage and family as the foundation of civilization, the seedbed of virtue, and the wellspring of society.” Sure, that sounds pleasant enough, but how in the hell does homophobic Ugandan policy fit into that mission? And furthermore, how could any person with upstanding morals not condemn the killing of innocent people? Homosexuality should not be punishable by death, and anyone who thinks otherwise really needs to take a step back and reevaluate their ethic principles.

Peter Sprigg, the Senior Fellow for Policy Studies at the Family Research Council (whatever the fuck that title designates, I really couldn’t give any less of a shit) has been quoted on MSNBC’s Hardball as saying that he believes “there would be a place [in US policy] for criminal sanctions against homosexual behavior.” So not only does the FRC believe that other countries have the right to put homosexuals to death, but also that homosexual acts should be outlawed in the United States. Now, he didn’t say gays should be condemned to death in the US, but it’s not outlandish to assume that if the FRC eventually got their way and could legally ban gay behavior, that their next step would be to make homosexuality punishable by death.

So you see, Friend of Someone Who is Dear to Me, Chick-Fil-A President Dan Cathy didn’t just say that he believed in the traditional words of the Bible. That is not why people are so upset. What Dan Cathy did do is donate over $5 million dollars to organizations like the Family Research Council, organizations that publicly condemn homosexuality and lobby for anti-equality legislation. And then Dan Cathy got smug about it, answering in an interview that he was “guilty as charged,” for doing so after his company for the longest time kept its donations hush-hush.

I’ve watched a lot of documentaries on the subjects of homosexuality and religion (thank you, Netflix). This by no means makes me an expert theologist, but most of them concluded that the Bible should not be translated literally and blah blah blah, I know it’s not gonna change your mind, so let’s not waste our time. Here’s what I assume about you:

• You believe that a book written and rewritten centuries ago by a bunch of different people is the blueprint for how you should live your life so you can be saved. Sure. Fine. Great.

• The “literal translation” of your book says that it is an abomination for a man to lay with another man as he would a woman. Sure. Fine. Great. (The literal translation of your book also says you can’t cut your hair and that if you cheat on your spouse then both you and your spouse must be killed… but those rules are so silly!)

But your book also says that it is part of human nature to sin and do wrong, and that includes everybody, including people like you, who believe the words of an ancient text. And if that’s the case, how can people like you be the Deciders of right vs. wrong? You can’t be moral crusaders if it is inherent in your being to be corrupt and bad. Perhaps with this logic you should reconsider your interpretation of your book. Perhaps, as sinful creatures, the idea that you pick and choose what you want to literally translate from your scripture is in and of itself the sin? Maybe the sin isn’t homosexuality. Maybe the sin is the misinterpretation and the cherrypicking?

So, dear Friend of The Person Who is Dear to Me, I hope you enjoyed your Chick-Fil-A chicken sandwich. And I really do mean that. I think you would agree that you didn’t really do much research into the topic when you posted your ignorant comment on the picture above, and that really you just heard Mike Huckabee declare August 1^st “National Chick-Fil-A Day.” You were told to support your Christian companies, and you did just that. You love your god and you love deep fried chicken. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

But if you ever read this, I hope that you never eat there again. Because if you stopped translating the literal meaning of your book and actually absorbed some of its teachings, you’d realize that supporting a company that generalizes a minority population as degenerates is the sin. That’s the abomination. And if the peaceful and tolerant god from your book really does exist, how’s about you let him run the show from now on. Not Dan Cathy, not Mike Huckabee, not the Family Research Council. Because they are not the Deciders of what is right and what is wrong, and neither are you. And when you bought your chicken sandwich yesterday to celebrate Chick-Fil-A’s strong Christian principles, you participated in hurting countless people who have done absolutely nothing to you. At least now you know better. Let’s hope next time you do better.

Sincerely,

A Reader of Many Books

A Class Act.

I do a lot of stupid things these days to try and dignify myself, but the fact is, I’m still not a grown-up quite yet. Sure, I work and pay my rent and buy my own underwear, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a mad-hot mess underneath my near-flawless exterior. Here are some examples of my quasi-classy behavior:

• My boyfriend and I bought Disaronno the other night to make Amaretto Sours and feel like rappers. However, amaretto sours led to whiskey sours which led to whiskey rocks which led to pulling swigs of Jack Daniels on the way out the door so we could “save money” at the bars we didn’t even intend on going to when we first bought the Disaronno. All I’m saying is, I don’t think Kanye West has ever blacked out in a gay hipster night club and then fallen asleep in the back of his roommate’s Ford Taurus. But I’ve never met the guy.
• I recently saw a very impressive production of the hit Broadway musical “Avenue Q.” They rented the original Broadway sets and puppets and everything! In order to feel upscale, I dressed up in a nice pair of skinny jeans, a stylish and slightly see-through V-neck (promiscuous, but hardly revealing)… and a pair of inside-out boxer briefs, because it was laundry day and I was out of clean underpants. My boyfriend had to keep tucking the tag back into my pants.
• When I’m really hungover, I treat myself to irrational purchases that make me feel highbrow and better about myself. Two times ago it was an online shopping spree, last time it was an iPhone, and this weekend I spontaneously bought myself a Disneyland annual pass. Fact: Disneyland is not the best place to cure a hangover. I was constantly reminded of two things: a) Why I hate children; and b) That I had to barf.

So maybe my web series Those With Class is more more truth and less fiction than I care to admit. Maybe my character Mic has more in common with me than two shared consonants. Maybe I have participated in placebo drug trips and witnessed a killer clown stab a douche bag to death with a carving knife. Maybe that’s why I fucking hate FaceTime, so stop asking.

Or maybe I’m just too hungover to look at your face right now.

If you Burgle Me, I’ll Marinara You

New (and penultimate) episode of Those With Class! This is my last credit as writer (but the season finale, written by my roommate, is hilarious!) but you’ll still be seeing my face as the character of Mic.

I do hope you guys enjoy this one. Shit gets weird. Let me know what you think!

-Mac

Don’t Do Drugs By Accident After Thinking You Did Drugs But Really You Didn’t Do Them At All… What?

Hello again, friends! Here’s the 5th episode of Those With Class, written by yours truly.

Please “like” it on Youtube if you enjoyed it, and join our facebook group at http://facebook.com/thosewithclass

You can also watch all the videos and read more about cast/crew/characters on the website (that I made!) http://thosewithclass.com

As always: Watch, laugh, and share. Thanks!

-Mac

Pie in the Face

Hello everyone! My web series is still chugging along, and the newest episode was posted yesterday. If you’ve been watching, here’s the youtube link: http://tinyurl.com/TWCep104

If you need to play catch-up, visit http://thosewithclass.com and click on the episodes tab. (I made the website! very proud of my baby.)

You can also watch the newest episode right…. HERE!

Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think 🙂

(Oh, and in case you were wondering, I’m the little redhead one.)

It’s Tuesday Again!

Which means a new episode of Those With Class is up! Hope you enjoy 🙂

(Yes, I’m aware I’m using my blog for shameless publicity. And also, you’re welcome!) Let me know what you think!