Porch

I'm on the porch. I spend as much time as I can here. My Dick Tracy mug is almost out of coffee, just the cold, dark last sip left for me to savor. I read somewhere that it is better to drink somewhat cold coffee- you can actually taste the flavor. I don't like super hot boiling coffee. I try to ask for 4-5 ice cubes in my Starbucks Grande Dark Roast. Sometimes, for some reason, I become very shy at Starbucks and am even to scared to specify Dark Roast.

If my coffee is too hot I feel like I am suffocating, I can't breath, I need to take off all my clothes to escape the heat and sit outside in the snow naked drinking coffee. If you think about it coffee does taste the best just right before it starts going to lukewarm. That's when the caffeine has kicked in and any conversation you are having with your friend or lover or yourself becomes almost electric. The possibilities are endless! The day is so full of opportunities! We should do this and we should do that and sex and movies and food and sex and paint the kitchen green and.... Target!

I am the guy that's always on his porch when you walk by. If I could smoke in my apartment I would be in my room in front of my computer. But, as the world does it's slow crawl toward cigarette prohibition I am placed here on my porch for the time being. This is good though, because I would not leave my room if I was allowed to smoke inside. And when I don't leave my room I have a habit of eventually hospitalizing myself.

Tonight I heard someone playing Donna Summer's "Love To Love You Baby" in their apartment. Now I hear what I would call "gameshow theme jazz." Very upbeat Price Is Right style jams. I can get down with that.

There are regulars that pass by my perch through the alley. The aforementioned lesbians (who seem somewhat angry at me- see my post about them), the leather daddy who nervously, incessantly walks his dog multiple times a day and night, always looking behind him as if someone his after him, my neighbor and good friend who jogs at night and stops by to pay a visit. My other neighbor and good friend, his wife, that pokes her head through the railing, checks in on me and blows me a kiss.

There is a new neighbor right across the alley. He's in his twenties and gay and does not like me. This is what I think is going on with him- He has his first real job, foolishly bought a condo (believe me when I tell you I am not one to judge specifically on financial decisions or lack thereof, but I just get the feeling this was a hasty decision that he will regret) and now he's thinking he's in Andersonville and he's going to find a boyfriend and get a dog. He might get a dog. But with the dirty look he shot over at me when I first said "Hello!" I can say with a certain amount of confidence that he will not be finding a boyfriend anytime soon.

He bought a barbeque and some Target outdoor multi-colored lights and some plastic deck chairs. I heard him say to one of his female friends referring to our lights, "They only have white lights, I have colored!" Fuck off you angry ugly young gay man! He's in that real queeny stage of development. The only people I've seen him have over on his deck are gaggles of fag hags who he takes on tours of his apartment. I am only included on the deck part of the tour. He is real braggy about his condo and he's just an ass. I don't really remember what he's bragging about but it's annoying and stupid.

He has barbeques with his ladies but he doesn't seem like a great entertainer. One of those people who would just have hot dogs and have a bag of chips. His girlfriends stay a short time on his deck and they all gossip about the girl who isn't there. Just real mean spirited insecurity based gossip. Kind of like what I am writing here. I wish him well. He's fine. I haven't seen him on his porch lately. Or in his house. Maybe he already moved.

Then there are the neighbors down below who feed stray cats all night. At first it annoyed me a lot. The cat would come up to my deck and expect me to feed him. I ignored him. I am not so easily tricked by animals (or people for that matter)/ There has to be a boundary.

Anyway, this couple below me spends an hour every night feeding and playing with random cats that walk through the alley. I do not approve of this. I think it's cruel. Unless they are planning on adopting the cat I feel like you are just leading them on. But these two are very faithful to the cat(s) and do this every night and  because it seems to be a consistent activity that they take seriously it bothers me much less.

I didn't tell you about the Mexican man who decided to sleep on our porch. I came outside at about 9:00 on a Friday night to have my cigarette and nighttime coffee and there was a disheveled Mexican man sleeping on our porch with his back up against the brick wall of our building. This was happening at the same time the neighbors were doing there cat feedings. The girl saw the man and said "Hey" very sweetly.  Almost as if she was saying "Hey welcome to the neighborhood do you want me to feed you?" She was behaving like she found a new cat.

No. Not welcome to the neighborhood. I approached the man who was sitting very near my smoking and drinking coffee zone and said "Hey- you have to go." He said nothing, he was really really drunk. He was doing some sort of drunk sign language like, "No, go away, it's fine, don't worry about it." I was irritated and just kept saying, "Hey you gotta go." "You need to leave." "You have to go NOW." He shooed me away with his hand as if I was being rude and bothering his sleep.

I was just really irritated that he had interrupted my smoking time and encroached on my spot. So I called 911 and explained the situation. My wonderful straight roommate came out and did his best "very serious don't fuck with me shpeel" to get him to leave. The Mexican man shooed him away too. 

The police came and got him off our porch. I guess he was carrying a desk lamp around in a plastic bag because the policeman asked if the desk lamp in a plastic bag was mine. If you are on the right side and the stakes aren't too high - Chicago Police men can be very sexy. I feel like a schoolgirl around men in uniform.

When I got up the next day, the desk lamp in the plastic bag was still there. Out of the whole experience this was the only thing that made me said. This guy walking around Chicago, near death drunk, carrying a broken desk lamp in a plastic bag. Did he buy it? Was he going to try to sell it? Whatever way it came into his possession and whatever his plans were for it- it just made me really sad. Desk lamp. Drunk.

Call me a racist if you like. But this man was Mexican. He was virtually wearing a sombrero. I know there was more to the man than being Mexican but to me he was the Mexican man. This is not a judgement against Mexican people I am just saying....forget it. I'm not going down this Paula Deen road. He was my Mexican man. And I hope he is ok, I hope he has more to love right now and more loving him than a broken desk lamp.

Deleted Scenes

Untitled

I'm sure some people would frown on it. Especially the psychiatric community. But I am finally ready to come out and say I am engaged to my therapist. He is a wonderful man and I am over the moon that we will be spending the rest of our lives together.

Our first date was pretty casual. Pretty much like any other date I've ever had. We spent a pleasant hour together looking into each others eyes, making small talk, talking about my problems, my idiosyncrasies and my severe debilitating clinical depression.He didn't seem phased. As our date came to an end, we agreed to meet for another date for a week later.

I've dated a lot of men. But as I casually walked home I smoked twelve cigarettes and thought about him. I know he

Evil Empire

Listen! If you don't like Wal-Mart. Then start your own Wal-Mart. Start your own goddam store.

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Marilyn Monroe movies help me fall asleep the best. Something so comforting about her. The hair?

Random things coming to my head as I just wake up

"You know what really gets my goat?" referring to nothing
Schizophrenics have something called word soup.

Out Of Body Experiences

Just a cup of coffee and a bed with a cool comforter. 

Untitled

Oh honey, you don't know the half of it. The 

I got my rock moves

What horrible emotional landscape are you exploring?

I passed by one of thirtysomething boys in Andersonville- the kind that seem to be on every corner on a patch of grass waiting for their dog to relieve themselves. I say hello and receive a non committal half smile. That's fine I'm really not asking for anything more. I couldn't handle anything more.

I take note of my depressed mood as I glance at flowers sticking out of a chain link fence. It's like there are the flowers and I am depressed, tired, weary. There is the sidewalk drenched in my mild depression and anxiety. This cigarette has depression coming out of it.

I wonder what the other guy sees. How differently we perceive the world through our emotions! Like for him the flowers could be beautiful, or maybe he doesn't like flowers, or they make him think of his grandma, or maybe when he looks at them he's not even seeing the flowers- he's seeing them but thinking about Doctor Who or Jimmy Johns or whatever. But what emotion is he seeing life through?

He could have some real problems- not my stupid made up ones. He could be going to jail tomorrow or have a terminal illness or he could be cleverly hiding a gun.

The Jeremy Show Interviews: Artist Matt Irie

Last week I had a chance to sit down and talk with local artist Matt Irie about imaginary friends, Marxism, Prilosec and art. You can learn more about Mr. Irie at his website www.mattirie.com.

What is inspiring you right now?

British crime dramas, my new bike, contemporary abstraction. I would like to say the Turrell exhibitions in New York, LA, and Houston but unfortunately, I don’t think I am going to make any of them.

How could you see British crime dramas or your new bike taking shape in your work?

I don’t. I may have a TV problem. Geoffrey Todd Smith used to work on his drawings in front of a TV before he got a studio in the city. I was making large text drawings at the time that required a lot of reading and concentration and I was jealous. To be honest, I think I was just bored of making the drawings. Once I began working on the drip paintings in earnest and got my studio situation squared away (I have a studio at home), I set up a small TV and DVD player left over from a piece Dominick Talvacchio and I did. I started with all of the HBO and Showtime shows and then moved onto cable shows like The West Wing and Battlestar Galactica. We have a pretty great library by us and in time I moved onto what they had a lot of, which is BBC crime dramas. I like the pace of the long form television series. You don’t have to pay such close attention. I used to listen to a lot of audio books in the studio but got sucked into things like The Wire. I found myself making excuses to finish episodes or watch another one, which kept me out of the studio. The TV has kept me productive. It’s still like listening to audio books except that I now look up from what I’m doing from time to time. I just enjoy riding my new bike. It has no influence on my work that I can see.

How did you decide that art was going to be your career?

It started with my finding out that I was getting a D in physics senior year. I then learned if I was going to major in some kind of art discipline I could drop physics and take another art class. That sealed the deal. I went into undergrad as an illustration major and after asking my Drawing II instructor, Mark Arctander, which illustration class I should take, he advised me to take some “real art classes.” The next day I changed my major to painting and that was it.

Tell me about your first job.

My first job was a paper route in Fort Wayne, Indiana where I am originally from. I don’t remember much about it. I remember how bad it was trying to deliver papers after an ice storm and I remember me and couple other kids who had routes going with the area manager to sell subscriptions around the city for extra cash. I also remember the manager guy had a shitty car with a revolver in the glove compartment.

Why do you stay in Chicago, rather than a larger city for art like LA or NYC?

I worked in NYC for a summer on a Sol LeWitt mural in Midtown Manhattan between my first and second year of grad school and thought I might move out there sometime after I graduated. However, after grad school I started teaching at few colleges around Chicago and then Cougars began touring. The band, friends and family have played a big part in keeping me in the Midwest. I like New York and LA is growing on me, but I prefer to live in Chicago. Maybe someday…

Tell me how LA is growing on you because I stayed there for six weeks and almost hospitalized myself and dropped out of school.

I went to LA as a kid and liked it well enough. Then I went back a few times during various tours. Maybe it was the weather, the places we played or the bands we played with, but I got a bad vibe about the place. The airport is awful. A couple years ago Geoffrey and I went out there for an art fair and I had a better time.

Tell me about your favorite building in Chicago.

Good question! I am a big fan of Modernism so of course the Mies buildings, but maybe more so Bertrand Goldberg’s buildings such as Marina City and River City II. It will be a shame when the old Prentice Women’s Hospital comes down.

Prentice Women's hospital on it's way to architecture heaven.

I work close to the Prentice Women's Hospital. I love the building as well. But Walt Disney's quote- "Disneyland is not a museum" always comes into my mind when I hear about the controversy surrounding whether it should be saved or not. I guess I feel like if it should be saved it would have been saved- that the world can't always be a museum. I don't know what kind of fascist attitude that is but that's how I feel.
I see your point. Everything is in motion and change. For me I think it’s a matter of taste. That style of brutalist architecture is my jam. I understand it no longer meets the hospital’s needs and thus has to go, but I’m willing to bet that the building that goes in its place will have far less character, for better or for worse.

First Clown Shoes, 2008

Your sculptures (like Saucepan, First Clown Shoes) remind me of things you'd buy at a really smart novelty magic shop. It's as if your inner child is performing a magic show for the viewer. Were you a performer as a child?   

Yes. As a child I would lip sync to Michael Jackson, Prince, and Hall & Oates in the living room to an imaginary audience while my parents watched TV in another room. In high school I started playing the drums and singing in bands. I like that you refer to those pieces as performative. In one way or another I want all my work to function in a performative/experiential way.

So the first thing that strikes me (at least on your website) with your artwork is the title you give each one. What goes into titling a painting? Do the titles usually relate to the painting directly? Is there hesitation when you title a piece of work or do you enjoy it?   

My titles used to be very literal, descriptive, and/or minimal such as Drawing #1, Stop Sign, Cord, etc. I suppose Saucepan and First Clown Shoes are as well. However, shortly after I began making paintings again I decided to approach them differently. I used to try to keep what I did musically separate from what I was doing in the studio, thinking that they didn’t really have much to do with each other. Now I generate titles similar to the way I write lyrics, which has to do with word play and collage. I take notes all the time and have running lists of things that could be used for titles and/or lyrics. After I finish a painting I refer to the notes and assign a title that fits best with the specific piece in an ambiguous way. My hope is that the titles allow for another way to approach the work. I think there has always been humor in my work and this way of generating titles provides me the opportunity to inject a little humor into what might otherwise be seen as too formal of an investigation.

You shared a show with artist Geoffrey Todd Smith (who I've also interviewed for my site) called "Imaginary Friends." I forgot about imaginary friends- did you have one as a child?

No, just imaginary audiences (see above). When I was a kid I played a lot with action figures. I would give them each their own personality and character traits as if they were a part of some large story arc. Does that count?

Yes. I think I had one and it involved some sort of watch that I could summon them with. This was with my friend Nicole. We both had the watches. I think mine was a girl. 

As I get older I find it is difficult to make non-imaginary friends, or difficult to find the desire to make new friends. Do you find this as well as you have gotten older?

Perhaps. Most of the new friends I make I meet through work these days. Having a full-time job, a studio practice, being in a band, and about to become a father makes it difficult. I have a number of terrific friends and with how busy I usually am it’s hard enough to find the time to see the ones I have.

You use the hammer and sickle in your sculpture and drawings- tell me about what interests you about that icon.

Poorhammer-Sadsickle II, 2008

I had a great Western Civilization professor, Marvin Rosen, who was a Marxist. He and I became very close and ever since I have been interested in the left and Marxist inspired philosophy/politics. In 2008 I started a website www.poorhammer-sadsickle.com which no longer exists. The site was mostly an archive of screen shots of posts on craigslist of things like last Sunday’s Chicago Tribune or a half-used bottle of lotion and then the responses to the posts. I sent letters to the Hammer Museum from Sickle and a letter to Sickle, the clothing site, from Hammer as if they were old lovers trying to get back together. The Reader actually published a Missed Connections from Hammer to Sickle. At any rate, the Gifts sculpture and the Poorhammer – Sadsickle drawings grew out of that project. The icon itself interests me as a signifier for the Marxist inspired philosophy/politics mentioned above. In 2008 you could buy a CCCP or a Che Guevara T-shirt from places like Target. Working with the icon allowed me to explore the space between the ironic and the sincere, which was something much of my work was focused on in grad school.

Tell me about what's going on with Cougars. I see that the Cougars Wikipedia page says that there is a new album in the works..."Gentlemans Choice." Is that still in the works?

Cougars is still a band, albeit a much more relaxed version of it. We are now a five piece (down from eight) and all have full-time jobs, other projects, families, kids, etc. We still practice somewhat regularly, but rarely play out live. “Gentleman’s Choice” is the working title of what will be our third full-length record. It’s still in the works and at present we are one to three songs away from having enough material to record again after about seven years. I think it’s the best stuff we’ve written. We write slowly. Many songs have been put to the grave.

How does your artistic sense affect what you wear? Rupaul says the whole world is in drag- as if we are all playing some sort of character that we idealize. What character are you? Do you put that much thought into what you wear?

I suppose there is a connection, but not one that I consciously cultivate. Although here I may have a problem as well. Other than my dress shoes and the ones I wear with shorts, I’ve been wearing the same style sneaker (Adidas’ Stan Smith) for over a decade. I have a nice pair, an everyday pair, and a shitty pair for yard work and such. Likewise, I buy the same style jeans year after year (Levi’s 527) and I only wear crewneck undershirts that have tight collars. It’s the same story with sox and underwear. The only real variation is in shirts, casual button up plaids or solid color long sleeves in the fall with the occasional sweater or sport jacket and t-shirts or short sleeve plaids in the summer. However, lately I have been getting into golf shirts. I think they help to disguise my love handles.

If you are having trouble sleeping- what do you do? Is there anything that always works for you?

I don’t usually have much trouble sleeping, but when I do I generally close my eyes and think of all the shit I need to do.
 

What items do you carry in your bag?

The Metformin, generic Prilosec, and ibuprofen are in there in addition to Dramamine, fresh breath, 5 hour energy, and generic Nicorette. You can also find a half dozen flash drives, two or three college ruled, spiral bound notebooks, and folders full of art stuffs and lyrics. More than likely there will be the most recent Artforum in there as well.
 

What do you find different about students today compared to when you were a student?

I’m not sure. Perhaps there’s more apathy. I feel like when I was in school my classmates and I wanted to take over the world. Of course there were mopes then, but I feel like now there is a lack of students who really want to do great things. Maybe there’s less ambition. However, every year I always have a handful of pretty great students.

"Lamppost," your Installation for Public Art Fund NYC that you collaborated with Dominick Talvacchio on, is genius. Tell me about that experience.

Lamppost, 2009

Thank you! The Public Art Fund asked Dominick and I to propose a project for an outdoor exhibition of site-specific sculpture at MetroTech Center in Brooklyn, New York. After our proposal was excepted, Dominick and I worked with a contractor based in Queens to fabricate a lamppost that was identical to the lampposts at MetroTech, only ours was made to look as if it was wilting or being sucked into/creating a depression in the ground. Overall I would say it was one of the most stressful things I’ve worked on due to budgets and deadlines. From the beginning of the fabrication and installation, anything that could have gone wrong did. In the end we completed the piece around 3:30pm the day of the opening reception which started at 5pm.
 

You've worked in installations, video, public art, etc...what area of the arts do you want to explore next?

Firemud, 2011

I have always worked with whatever the idea calls for. I have never set out to make a video, just to explore the medium for example. The performances were performances because that was the best medium for the idea I wanted to investigate. For the last four years I have mainly concentrated on painting. After the stress of Lamppost, Dominick and I focused on our solo work and eventually stopped collaborating. At some point I would like to explore other ideas and I have a few things in the works that are more akin the work I was doing with Dominick. However, at the moment there is still more work to be done with the paintings.

What are you doing this weekend?
Working in the studio, going to my brother-in-law’s graduation party, watching The Killing & Newsroom, and possibly a studio visit. 
 

not even that hot

I would like a whole wall of window air conditioners. I want 28 of them. I want to cause the lights to flicker all across America because of all the power that I am using to cool myself off. I want to have to curl up in a blanket because "it's gettin a little chilly." I want to crave soup and a grilled cheese I am so synthetically cold. I want to look at the people sweating outside and laugh maniacally while I am wearing a snowsuit. I want it to actually start snowing in my apartment because of how cold the air is. I want the pipes to freeze. I want to get frostbite. I want to have to be taken to the air conditioned hospital in an air conditioned ambulance because I have a serious case of frostbite caused by too much air conditioning. I want to be like that overly tanned woman and her daughter she took to the tanning beds. But with air conditioning. I want to have a child and have it be thirty below in my apartment and have him/her in a snowsuit and make snowmen in our apartment. People will youtube me. I want to go viral with my air conditioning. I don't just want it for myself, I want to take it from other people. I want all of Chicago to be hot and I am the only one who is cool as a cucumber. In my snowsuit smoking a cigarette. Like Cruella Deville but instead of puppies I steal air conditioning. If I have to go outside I wear a NASA chemically cooled space suit and it takes me 3 hours to walk a block. I want to go to the grocery store like this to buy just one 2 liter of Diet Cherry Pepsi. It will take me the whole day to walk there and I will cause such a commotion I will be on the news (after the sports and weather) as a human interest story.

its all good though

..well I tell you folks it's been a long week for ME. the paula deen scandal and having the first hangover in about three years. that crazy off the hook gay pride parade really took it out of me. sippin on other peoples drinks and handfuls of vodka soaked gummi bears from a lovely lady who's name escapes me and I am off my rocker. a very mild sunburn and lots of naps. lots of overly air conditioned naps. went ahead and bought disney's oz on blu ray. puttin that shit on and takin naps. james franco turns out is very very sexually attractive. smokin my brains out. marlboro special blend 100's. smokin the hell out of that shit. thats some good tobacco man. walkin around andersonville peepin the boys and daddies and their frickin dogs. always walkin their dogs. dont they know real gay men get cats. i don't have to walk my frickin cat. sippin this coffee on the porch and smokin the last of my marbs and lovin the weather. broke as fuck. its all good though. had a bbq on the fourth of july. all my homies watched some big brother. that was off the hook. then the big E had the homies watchin some disney american themed shorts. im like i like disney but its frickin hot in our apartment so i sat outside with the neighbors and some other good peeps and smoked and watched them smoke. real chill. had to work friday so i was like i got to get to bed fucks! i climbed in bed around eleven and turned on that oz movie and snoozed it out. work was ok. real slow. then came home and watched some reality show about an airport that i had set to dvr from work. it was all good. lookin forward to hanging with some work peeps on sunday. today is for some ac naps and smokin more reds. weekends is weird. i get real tweaked in the morning about 5 and then go back to bed at 9 or so and wake up in a crabass mood that lasts the rest of the day. its all good though.

"I am out of meth and need to buy some from your downstairs neighbor."

Psst....I think we have drug dealers living below us. Can I say that? Will I get shot?

The apartment below us has always been a magnet for odd characters. When we first moved in there were some pretty normalish 20somethingish boys living there. We only saw this one dude that was staying with them. I spent a few nights smoking on the porch with him. He was a real talker-- which is always good for me. I enjoy observing people, especially talkers who are basically giving themselves psychotherapy- working out issues. One evening, I came out for a cigarette and must have fallen asleep on the porch. I woke up with him quietly awaking me- "Jeremy, time for bed."

He was staying with them for awhile until he could find a job and move out on his own. I did give him some job hints- staffing agencies that I have worked for. He would take the number but I knew that there was not a chance in hell that he was going to call. He ended up working for a cell phone store. He was one of those guys who work in cell phone stores. A strange breed. Jittery young men REALLY trying to sell and do a good job. With their shirts partially untucked- wearing sneakers. Former Little Ceasers guys really wanting to turn a new leaf and become men. Get their lives together.

Then there were some dude with a kid. I think he was middle eastern. The story we cobbled together was that he was recently divorced. His daughter was dropped off on the weekends. With her Dora the Explorer luggage on wheels. I wasn't sure if he was selling drugs or just doing them. But I got that vibe from him. I don't think he was working. Drug fueled weeks of laying around in a garden apartment falling into a pit of filth and drugs and then spending the weekend with an adorable daughter. Could be worse I guess.

Then some bitchy bitchy lady moved in downstairs. I don't think she was up to anything. But she was always on her cell phone when she exploded out of the apartment door. Really ripping into someone. Lots of anger and disagreement and yelling into her cell phone. Never said hello to me. One time I think she said "Jesus Christ" directed at me. Maybe a cigarette butt had fallen through the slats from my porch to her cement back door entrance. But I TOTALLY got her. Understood the frustration and ridiculousness of it all.

The new person that moved in is clearly selling drugs. The door buzzed a few weeks ago and I answered it- staticy garbled girl freaking out on the other end of the intercom. I did not let her in. Locked in the vestibule, the glass lobby door separating us.

"I'm supposed to see an apartment," she yelled through the door, twitching and very nervous. I translated this as, "I am out of meth and need to buy some from your downstairs neighbor." She must have found the right apartment. Later I was on the porch and she and alleged drug dealer came out. The drug dealer informed her, "This neighborhood is very quiet- you need to come to the back door."

Since then, there have been random nervous people waiting outside the back door as I smoke my cigarettes and judge. Seeing me, they walk away and pretend to just be enjoying the sights of our filthy alley. Just taking a Sunday stroll by the dumpsters. Cars pulling up, leaving quickly.

My prediction is that this won't last long. The garden apartment people seem to come and go.

My thoughts are- whatever gets you through the night. Like the lady screaming into her cellphone- life can be real hard. Hopefully the drug dealers and drug takers are finding some peace and relief in their pursuits. Whatever the sacrifice. I wish them well on their journeys and hope they can get to a good place.

I just don't want to be shot.

The Jeremy Show Interviews: Gay Porn Star Blue Bailey

You mentioned in a post that you paid off unsubsidized loans with porn? I should totally do that-- how else am i going to get rid of it? My scene would be very niche. Slightly overweight, bipolar gay porn! Did your debt have anything to do with choosing a career in porn?

Not at all. I’ve always had a day job that has paid the bills, but porn was a fun and easy way to make extra spending cash.  Now that I've graduated, I'd like to pay off all my unsubsidized loans as quickly as possible to avoid accruing interest during future education.  

Tell me about your trip to Amsterdam.

Originally, I was going to Italy as a gift from my grandmother for graduating SFSU.  I had the flight booked two weeks prior to meeting up with her and went to Amsterdam and Berlin with my partner. We lucked out and arrived the weekend of Amsterdam Pride.  It was a beautiful city to visit and great coffee.  

You mentioned that you wouldn't mind moving to Chicago- what is it about Chicago that you liked that much? As opposed to San Francisco

SF is great, but I would consider moving to Chicago at least for school.  The city is part inspiration for Nolan's Gotham City, so how can you go wrong with that.  

I am 37 you are twentysomething. Tell me about where you see yourself at 37.

At 37, I see myself being a successful attorney at a law firm specializing in media/entertainment and/or first amendment law.  I'd like to own a car, property, and a puppy or two.   

What do you know about Bailey Blue, the female pornstar who has your name in reverse?

Nothing actually, except the name.  We should do lunch and talk shop

You were 1st Runner-up for Mr. RentBoy SF 2013! How did you feel that you won? What did that mean to you?

Didn't think I'd make it past the first round of eliminations, so was quite surprised.  

How does your family feel about your job? Tell me about them if you want to.

They actually found out by an ex.  He had decided to call and let them know after we had broken up and I had moved out.  My family is and has always been supportive of me.    

What was your first film? Tell me about that experience.

I don't remember the name of it, but remember it was group j/o scene and very uncomfortable at first.  I did meet my partner at a shoot, and do remember that one quite well.  He lived in Walnut Creek at the time, and I walked him to the BART after we finished.  

I feel like there are such generational differences between gay men. I feel like maybe the coming out process is quicker, with a little less of the self loathing and depression than in my generation. Do you feel there are major generational differences between you and older gay men? I don't know I feel like Liberace and you feel like Matt Damon to me. Thoughts?

I definitely feel that the coming out process is easier than prior generations, but I'm sure the self loathing and depression you mention existed in both.  Social media has had a major impact on promoting the acceptance of the LGBT community, but I think there are certain setbacks.  Every aspect of a teen's life is now documented and broadcast instantaneously, opening them up to continual criticism and potentially harassment.  

Are there many Jews in porn? God Jewish boys are hot.

I personally don't know that many, but then again I don't really ask either.  I'm not that religious, but I was raised Jewish and identify as a Jew.

How did you choose Blue Bailey as your porn name? Mine is Pepper Rowley

Out drinking with friends in LA....it was originally gonna be Bailey Blue, but some slut stole it :p

If we're doing the first pet and first street name equation. Rocky Horseback. Named my dog after the Red Power Ranger and the first street I remember living on is Horseback Circle

What was it like growing up in Las Vega$?

It sucked!...When I grew up there , all you could do was drink and gamble, which obviously wasn't an option as a minor.  Thankfully, I had a good group of friends to hang out with and drive around blasting 80s music.

Do you think it would be a good vacation for a gay couple one of whom (not me) is very against the idea and thinks that we shouldn't go there if we don't have a lot of money? But I just want to go back to an old seventies hotel like the Riviera and be Sharon Stone in Casino. Walk around and smell the sin and money and cigarette smoke in the air. Get a free cranberry and vodka and play the nickel slots-- THATS ALL I WANT BLUE!!!!!

You'd have to plan it during a gay holiday.  National Coming Out Day was the most busiest.  The porn convention used to bring in a ton of gays, but it focuses almost enitrely on the straight side now.  

What value meal do you order at McDonalds?

I'm more of an In-n-Out...and in again...guy.  Double double protein style and animal fries.  Read into that as much as you'd like :)

Are you able to put your education in broadcasting to use in porn? I went to Columbia College and got a degree in Television. I tried a few TV jobs- now I'm a Administrative Assistant at a college. It's fine.

I didn't do much production, but the BECA department at SFSU offered courses with lighting technique, video editing, and basic media aesthetics.  I have a friend who studied video and photography, and he works as an editor for a porn company.  My official degree is a BA in Broadcast & Electronic Communication Arts, emphasizing in Law and Regulation of Media.  

What is on your Amazon wish list? Or what do you want to buy?

Alfred Hitchcock: The Masterpiece Collection on Blu Ray...and the Adam West Batman Series on Blu Ray if they ever get a release date for it.  

I see you went to Madonna's MDNA concert- what did you think? Huge Madonna fan here.

it was a really good show, and I'm glad I got to see her once.  Wish I would've made it to the confessions tour though.  Not rushing to pay her ticket prices again anytime soon, but I'd certainly shell out the money to see Kylie, Muse, or GaGa.  

Do you want kids?

Nope, but I do want a few puppies.  

What is all the crap about barebacking in porn? What is your stance?

To me all it is - is sex. Super hot sex without protection, sure. But it's nothing to be demonized. It's like internalized homophobia to me. It is a decision that should be made between the performers and certainly not regulated by law.  There's a whole bigger discusser to safer sex practices than simple condom propaganda i.e. Prep, serosorting, and the like.  

Besides porn- what is your passion? What are you a total nerd for?

Horror shit!  The '78 Halloween is by far my favorite film.  Nothing beats going to the midnight opening of a scary movie with a bunch of audience reaction.  Looking forward to Dexter/True Blood Sundays this summer!

Did you enjoy high school? Did you play sports? Any other activities?

I was the fat kid in high school and could not wait to get the fuck out.  Didn't play any sports and used band and ROTC to get out of PE.  

Unusual celebrity crushes- mine Louis CK, Chris Pratt (from Parks and Rec).

Paul Rudd from Halloween 6.

What is your typical daily routine?

Wake up as late as my schedule will allow, work then gym or the reverse, home, BF time or solo time if he's out

Have you met any celebrities who knew you from your work? Who? Did you sleep with them?

Nope, but Andy Cohen can come get it anytime.

Tell me a favorite "Jewish saying" Is that a thing? Or some words of wisdom you try to live by.

Shabat Shalom, MotherFucker!

naked parties

I want to experience Chicago as I did when I first came here in my early twenties. I used to visit my good friend in a Bronco II that my dad bought for $500. I was supposed to move in with Hillary but chickened out at the last minute.

I would come to her apartment with Tidy Cat box of videotapes that I anticipated us all watching- Bette Midler concerts, Absolutely Fabulous episodes, 90's indie gay movies. I never travelled anywhere without my VHS's.

Summer in the city for a suburban gay twentysomething boy was like Disneyland. If only I could be that skinny again with bleach blonde hair. Thrift store clothes. Full of horniness and not understanding how to harness it. Awkward at every level.

Everyone smoked back then. It was heaven. Coffee in the morning and cigarette after cigarette after cigarette. Pre-internet, pre-9/11, pre-facebook, pre-Grindr.

I had anxiety and depression then. As I do now. I must be blocking that out now- because all I can remember is the heat and the no air conditioning. Drinking deliciously excessively and able to withstand it. To get sloppy sexy hilariously drunk. We had naked parties. We would have a whole party where everyone would get naked. It's amazing how fast the self consioucness of being naked melts away, when you realize that everyone is the same. Everyones bodies have weird issues.

Lots of dancing, 90's music, Janet, Madonna, Pet Shop Boys. Electric synthetic beats and buzzes. The Clinton era. No real responsibilties.

Deleted Scenes

These are some unfinished blog posts. Enjoy.

Rejuvenique


It's been in the back of my mind for a long time and I keep putting it off.

Time to take some time for myself with the Rejuvenique mask. This mask, which has been available for some time and endorsed by the wonderful Linda Evans is available at Amazon.com for the low price of $39.99. Not to drop any Christmas hints.

Yellow Wallpaper

I would never paint a wall yellow because it makes babies go crazy. Also because of the story "The Yellow Wallpaper" where the woman goes crazy or whatever- I can't remember. I need no help in that area.

I've lived in my apartment for four or five years. I can't remember how long I've lived here. During that time the white walls have accumulated a yellow patina created by Camel Light cigarette smoke. I've thought about painting several times. I would love to paint a bold orange or some shade of blue. If I move out my lease dictates that I paint it all back to white. I don't feel like I'll want to paint when it comes time to move. So I sit with the ugly smoke stained walls. Apathetic.

I was walking home today trying to understand where things went wrong. Never a good idea. My brain goes in a loop. The dime store therapist in my head tries to figure it out and I argue with him and then I get confused, scared and mad.

Jeremys Pot Den

I really wish I could smoke pot. I am relaxing- listening to some trippy mash ups of Madonna songs from her latest tour. And I think a big fat doobie would really be great right now. Just light it up on the porch and enjoy the Sunday.

The first time I smoked pot was with my good friends Lara and Rebecca. Names have been changed in case they are planning on running for president, not a bad idea as these two ladies could rock some serious pantsuit. We were at a very sexy and sexually ambiguous (clearly straight) gentleman's house for some sort of post high school, pre community college hot tub party.

Sarah Lunesta

She wakes up and finds herself on the kitchen floor in front of her paper shredder. She has apparently been shredding in her sleep. Thin ribbons once magazines, unopened envelopes, recipe cards, insurance papers overflow in the shredder basket. The red ERROR light on the top of the shredder blinks in surrender.

Thanks to the side effects of the seemingly unlimited supply of sleeping pills from her doctor, Sarah has woken up before in these strange still lifes. Woman in Bed, Empty Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream Container. Woman in Bathtub with Shampoo in Hair, Briefcase, Tostitos.  Woman on Couch, Sound of Music DVD Menu, Coke Zero, Jolly Rancher Wrappers.

This scene in front of the shredder is not a surprise, more of an annoyance. She gets up unsteadily and makes her way from the kitchen, to the hall and back to her bed. Climbing under her comforter, her foot wrestles with a crinkly plastic bag. A closer look at her sheets reveals a constellation of half melted chocolate chips. No thought of cleaning this up or changing the sheets because there is no energy.

Sarah was originally prescribed these pills after her boyfriend left her and she had a miscarriage. Or was it a miscarriage.

The Winter My Brain Exploded

On the bus, headed to work. All the windows were caked with salt making the bus a claustrophobic eggshell. Myself and the other passengers were the yolk. I don't remember now why, but I am compelled to crack open this shell, to get off this bus. A woman commented on my swift departure. I find some shelter and call into work.

Then I call in the next day, and the next day and so on. Anxiety and depression comes over me like an avalanche. I work with my therapist and psychiatrist to find a way out. The avalanche continues to come over me. I become afraid to drive, afraid to leave my apartment, afraid to be in my apartment. I go to my parents for a change of scenery and it does not help. I come home and it does not help.

The root causes of the depression and anxiety are there. This didn't just come out of nowhere. I had been worried about money for months. Student loans and bills had been mounting and I was able to make some arrangements. I was able to juggle and spin plates for awhile. But at some point I was not able to. My body told me that as I lay on the floor in my parents spare room rocking and talking to myself like a crazy person. I had gone crazy. It was official.

I am able to write this with the help of an anti-anxiety drug that is addictive and that I am very nervous about being on.

Prilosec

I am drinking baking soda dissolved in water because I have terrible acid reflux and I don't seem to have any Prilosec. I've looked in my carpet for a stray pill but I seem to have vacuumed them all up.

Yesterday, I had my blood drawn to see where my testosterone levels are. I have been taking a gel form of testosterone for six months now. I was having hot flashes, then aching bones. After researching it all myself I discovered that I had low testosterone. After my last test the gel wasn't working so they doubled it. We'll see how things go.

I was disturbed to hear that over six hundred Starbucks stores are closing.

Angry lesbians next door who don't say hello

I'm on the porch, smoking my cigs. Here they come with their bad attitudes and their bags full of empty boxes of organic Trader Joe's bullshit and I don't know what else. What do lesbians throw away? I guess they're just like the rest of us, I don't know.

But what gets me is they never smile or say hello- whether they are throwing away garbage or putting on their bike helmets and heading out for the day. They won't even make eye contact. And where are they off to anyway? Some lesbian drum circle? I halfheartedly apologize for my stereotyping and well, homophobia. But just give me a smile lady. We're in this together.

There is another portly lesbian a door away who drives down the alley and always stops her convertible to say "Hey, enjoying the weather, man?" So much so that I'm like- hey back off. But it's still nice to be noticed. Not these lesbians.

I may be in the depths of depression, I may have just crapped my pants, I may be wearing two different shoes and contemplating the end of days but I will always say "Hello."

I don't want to be their friends, and I certainly don't want to come over and eat their food. But I would like them to wipe those frowns off their faces and make an effort. And this may be asking too much- but I would also like them to jazz up their outfits a little. A little product in the hair. A skirt once in awhile wouldn't kill them.

I bet they're lawyers or some shit. Social services. Those are the worst.

I had a lesbian therapist that drove me into the mental hospital. Well, ok she said "If you feel you need to be hospitalized- you should go."What kind of bullshit is that? Can't we dance the dance of clinical depression? The patient therapist waltz. "Downward Spiral," the new dance craze sponsored by Lexapro!

This is a horribly misogynistic, homphobic rant that is inexcusable. But I'm serious about the skirt.

I crave a life of intensity.

I crave a life of intensity. Just today I was begging a friend on the east coast to quit his job and go with me to Las Vegas. I told him I wanted to live my last days in complete depravity. Drinking brown liquor by a dirty motel pool. Our untoned moderatley hairy chests and fast food bellies burning unevenly in the hot Nevada sun. Surrounded by meth addicts and organized crime middle managers.I want lots of screaming and slapping, unidentifiable gunshots in the night. Police sirens and men wearing dirty white t-shirts and basketball shorts falling down drunk.

My friend told me to be careful what I wish for.

I told him I wanted to feel the burn. Third degree Las Vegas sunburns! Dry skin, dehydrated cotton fuzzy hangover headaches. Falling asleep in filthy bathtubs at four in the morning. Drugs! Hard drugs- drugs you've never even heard of. I want to be a guinea pig for the next generation of deadbeats.

My friend said he was leaving Subway and had to get back to work.

I want my life to be instagrammed in late sixties/early seventies patina. I want to cry like a Kennedy wife. Excess and tragedy, pills and liquor. Fashion and misery on the rocks. Natalie Wood clawing her way back onto the boat with thick red lacquered nails. I want mental illness before mental illness. I want a spooky neurosis. I want people to wonder what the hell I'm doing at six in the morning, slamming cupboards and breaking dishes. Laying on the kitchen floor sobbing with a paper shredder and a cigarette. Shredding pictures of so called old lovers and friends I haven't seen since high school.

No intensity.
Still.
Cold.
Quiet.
A clearing of the throat.
A sneeze.
Bless you.
The back of an envelope. A smooth pen.
Something to remember.
Something to pick up at the store.
Something for tomorrow. Or the weekend.

Argyle

This morning I rubbed myself down with a generous amount of unscented moisturizer in an attempt to ward off dry irritated, itchy skin. I then put on my thermal underwear. I imagined that this would hold in the moisturizer, creating a barrier to the dry winter air.

I have found myself wearing sunglasses in the morning. Even when it is still very dark. I find that the sunglasses shield a little bit from the cold. However, I wonder if I am using it as a barrier, a transition from the dark peace of sleep to the stark reality of the day. I start to worry that people on the train think I am crazy, wearing sunglasses when it is almost still pitch black. And then I remember that I don't give a fuck what anyone on the train thinks.

At my el station, Argyle, there is a horrid horrid smell. At first I thought it smelled like someone was cooking garbage. I imagined that there was some insane woman stirring a giant cauldron of old newspapers, kitty litter, old tires, empty bottles, discarded pieces of clothing, random bits of plastic. An urban witch, stirring her garbage potion, cooking up havoc and despair for the city. I think it's just really old, cheap, discarded cooking oil from the many restaurants in the area.

The smell is horrible. And it's never not there. It's always there. In the summer, in the dead of winter. I am usually not so sensitive to such things. I smoke, I miss the occasional shower. I probably am not the best smelling person on the planet.  For me to be so taken aback by an odor something is very very wrong.

The smell haunts me. I can almost recreate it in my mind and almost smell it right now I have it so memorized.

I have no idea what I was talking/blogging about.Good night.

white box

People in my past still haunt me. People from grade school, high school, various jobs are with me everyday. Living on and on with me everyday. Real conversations in my head with people I haven't seen or heard from in years, decades. So much of my time living in these scenarios, arguing, laughing, spending time in my head with people who are no longer in my life.

Today, falling into a nap, after watching a Vogue documentary, thinking about a fashion shoot with all of these missing people. Bryan Rooney in Gaultier drag, Jared Schmidt in a cable knit sweater, leather pants, cowboy boots. Tina Casillas in an homage to Elizabeth Taylor. Old schoolmates like 90's supermodels in a huddle, smiling at the camera in Couture. 

Get out of my head! Too much time spent looking up old friends and people I barely knew on Facebook.

Brings me back to wanting a white room, white bed, white sheets. Throw everything away. A lobotomy. Clear it out.

Wallpaper

I love when people are passionate about stuff. I love that Erik fills our house with his passion, Disney. I've always loved Disney since I was little- more Disneyland. I grew up in northern California so we drove down to Disneyland a few times and those are some of the happiest memories of my childhood.

When people are passionate about things you can see their soul light up and you get to bask in the glow. Erik's love for Disney makes him so happy, excited. It gets me excited, excited for him.

I'm very passionate about Martha Stewart. There is truly no one else like her. She creates a fantasy world, much like Disney. I want to live there. In the world of ruthless organization with touches of well thought out whimsy. Clean, perfect, sensible. But this world doesn't exist, even for Martha Stewart. She presents this world. But she doesn't even live there completely. She wants to live there as much as we do.

Martha is great because you can tell that SHE is totally passionate about her interests- food, decor, gardening, the holidays.

Like myself, and Erik (although I don't want to speak for him), I think she is reaching back into her past and trying to relive good memories and maybe wallpaper over some of the bad ones.

Anyway, whatever you love, keep loving it, keep exploring it, and keep loving new things. NEVER EVER let anyone tell you that what you like or what you do is silly. That is a trait I deplore in people. Absolutely deplore. When people do that they are actually telling you how much they hate certain parts of themselves and how desperately they are trying to cover these parts -- and that you should too. Whether it's Martha Stewart or Disney or a balloon fetish keep the things in your life that you love alive and keep growing them and exploring more things. I like when people like things.