And today I was named one of the Best Gay Blogs. I feel like the prom queen this week. With a gun. They actually had the audacity to rate me on a scale from one to ten on categories like “Smart,” “Bitchy,” and “Hotties and Images.” I felt like a contestant on “Am I Hot or Not?” And 6.6 out of 10? Please. I was blogging when those boys were burping their strained carrots.

Kidding boys, I appreciate the kudos. Though I must take issue with being called a “bear-loving writer”. You left out the “conflicted” part of my attraction to bears. I mean, sure, I have a beard, a hairy chest, and can act butch. I sometimes go for scruffy, beefy guys. But this is how rumors start. I like many kinds of men, really. Well, several kinds of men. At least three kinds. Two or three. And just to respond to some recent emails, I actually WILL date guys who drink beer, as long as they can talk about more than drinking beer. I just want to be clear: I am open to beer-swilling nonbears.

In other news, I have a date with a bear tomorrow night. Looks like we might go see a chick flick.

“I mean, we’re comfortable with our masculinity,” I said. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m totally secure. And if one of us reaches up to wipe our eye during the movie, it’s just allergies, dude.”

“Totally.”

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