HAPPY NEW BEERS

(caution: run-on rant ahead)

I think I have
figured out something...

I am not being persecuted.
It's different.
It's change.

I was absolutely and violently
roped and yanked
by God out of the scene I was in.
"Friends" ended up to be
complete phonies,
"Buddies" ended up being
desperate for anything...
it had nothing to do with me.
People I loved
who I thought loved me,
not only didn't love me,
they HATED me
and were mean as hell
and were better actors
than I will ever be.
(this has only happened with straight people
for some reason. All of my gay friends
have always been pure as heaven)

I realized that I had little in common
with most of the people I knew
in the bars.
People I drank with,
and that's pretty much it,

It's exciting in a way,
to start over.
(Warhol said something like...
God, I'm so paraphrasing...
"get rid of a third of your stuff,
a third of your friends,
a third of your... etc.")

I have had strangers
and friends tell me in my current situation
that adversity lets you know
IMMEDIATELY who your friends are.
And I was like...
What?
My friends are my friends.
And again...
I was wrong.

Crickets.
I first learned that term on
a job I had a few years ago
with some awesome comedians
indicating the sound you hear when
a joke falls flat.
Well,
I am the joke,
and yeah, I fell flat,
pushed, rather,
by mean, mean people...
and CRICKETS, man...
Crickets.
That's what I heard from my "frenz"
(I stole that, by the way... "frenz",
from Kevin Lawson,
who, by the way, is my Friend)
the minute trouble came my way.

My Frenz were people I drank with,
thought I was having a blast with,
bought drinks for,
hung out at clubs with,
and immortalized...
who I thought
were absolutely wonderful,
who were actually absolutely awful to me,
and that is just what transpired
in front of my back,
God only knows what is actually being said.

Sometimes it's OK
to let things go.
I fantasized alot,
about love,
my friendships,
my happiness...
when there were thieves in my temple
and knives in my back
and I didn't know what to do,
so I pick up the tab and
laugh at the jokes
and tell myself how fun it was.

Don't think I've quit
having beers with people.
I have a ridiculous saying about...
say, famous musicians,
that has always been,
regardless of their art,
"Yeah but, would you really want
to have a beer with them?"
Some seem, just,
in my favorite made-up adjective...
"UN-FUN".

That was in the abstract.
This is real.
Fun I believe in.
Frenz, I do not.

I made a big decision about a year ago,
and it took me over a year to
bring it to fruition...
I will not have beers nor will
I hang out with anyone who
yells at me
(If you've read my former
entries, I can not stand
people who yell).

I also think it is a good idea to
hang out with people who have
respect for themselves
and more importantly...
others.
I have never been so
great at hanging out with people
who were good to me,
for some reason.
It was always
MY job was to be good to THEM,
no matter how they treated me.

But THIS is
HAPPY NEW BEERS.
I have good love in my life,
the real kind.
I am going to crack caps
with people who
do not yell at me
who are kind to me
who are kind to the waitress
who are kind to the bartender
who do not treat me like shit
who do not fight because they are bored
who are not mean
who help other people
who are only bitter about the ugliness
of things like war, bush, racism, murder,
rape, politics, homophobia,
capitalism, civil injustice, etc.
NOT people who are pissed because
they think they are so damn special that
they "should've" and they "could've"
but it's all some big plot by the rest of
us who simply worked our asses off
to survive
who they think we only did anything
to make them feel like losers
because they are too lazy and special
to ever work hard and
to feel anything but selfish contempt.

I am gonna have beers with people who are good to me.
It sounds simple.
But it wasn't to me.
I realized in the last few days,
I am nice to mean people
because they scare me
and I find them irrational.
It is irrational and unbelievable
to me that people treat others
terribly and expect and usually
receive no consequences.
Therefore, when faced with irrational
people, I do what one may do with
a rabid bear or something...
"O.K.... O.K.... It's O.K....
Easy now.... Everything's O.K....."
while being very calm and friendly
and backing away slowly,
FAR too slowly
(no offense to bears, I'm sure they are
better than our species).

But THIS?
THIS IS HAPPY NEW BEERS
and I am excited.
I have cleaned house,
wiped my tears,
straightened my spine
and have decided to
have beers with people who
I trust
and are good to me...
and would never yell at me.

I'm not so good at it,
but I'm gonna try.
Thank God.



P.S.
PLEASE don't drink and drive.
It gives us who drink and walk
a really bad name.

25

Merry and Happy
WHATEVER MAKES YOU
MERRY AND HAPPY!

Cheers!
pp

Yup

Snug as a bah-humbug in a rug.
Chilling out,
loving my family, friends and pets
and not nearly as bitter
as I usually feel this month.

Love is all you need.

Wary Christmas

Me and my best friend Darren
have said for years
that our biggest fear is
being misunderstood.
And we are both completely misunderstood
all the time.

Because of this,
I feel like I have to clarify
all the time.
Like Christmas.
I can not stand Christmas.
Holy Commercial Madness, Batman.

This thing going on in the U.S. right now
about people being pissed
about stores saying "Happy Holidays"?
(if you are not an American,
you are probably like "WTF?"
but so am I... totally)
Conservative right wing weirdos
launching a campaign about
stores saying "Happy Holidays"
instead of "Merry Christmas"?

BOYCOTT!!!
Oh My !!!

They are STORES.
STORES!
Come On!
You are defending christmas
by saying that STORES
should be more "CHRIST" LIKE.
Like Jesus is gonna stand outside in line
and knock people over for a sale on
ties, sweaters or an X-Box 360.
What?
Yikes.

Spending time
combatting a theory of inclusion (Happy Holidays)
rather than exclusion (Merry Christmas)
at a STORE?

(awesome quote from an e-mail I got:
'I couldnt agree more......
I am on the frontlines working at Toys r Us.
This is my first season working there,
it feels more like a tour of duty.
The crap i see daily... the greedy'
- Dustin)

There is nothing righteous about
Christmas Presents.
Yuck.
Shopping, stressing,
fighting and all the
falsities that
come along with "gift giving" on
Christmas.
The greed....
It's not need.
If it was,
everyone once a year would give
to a charity.
How about being generous
all year long?

I started this whole rant,
because I wanted to repost
a post I wrote a long time ago on
Christmas,
that I'm sure will be...
Misunderstood.

Christmas.
The word makes me shudder.
And just to try and NOT be misunderstood,
the following post is
NOT about right wing weirdos
trying to make everyone support Christmas.
And it is CERTAINLY NOT
about ME supporting Christmas,

It's about HYPOCRISY.
-------------------------------------------
SANTA CLAWS

So, it's that day.

That day that someone picked as Jesus' birthday.

Although, the actual events taking place on the date of December 25
are about as true as Jesus being a white man.

If someone just picked a random date...
Why during the most dangerous time to travel?
What's the matter with spring, or Fall (my fave)?
But nope, somebody said it, so loaded down with presents and coats,
people board airplanes and cars to travel through snow storms,
because we have been trained to do so.
But it's rarely about a "birthday" anyway.

Enter Santa.

Apparently, in order to hook everyone, we have Santa.
The birth of Jesus wasn't a good enough slogan for true mass appeal, to support a muti-million dollar holiday industry,
so we have the man in the red suit with the beard.
Now, here's the thing....
When one is a kid,
and finding out everything for the first time,
from potty training to
tying a shoe
to the little men who live inside the radio and sing songs;
they are often taught two stories:

-One of a God Man, who lives in the sky, with a big white beard, who knows all things, does miraculous things, keeps a list of who's good and bad, and you can talk to him...

-And the Santa Man, who flys through the sky, with a big white beard, who knows all things, does miraculous things, keeps a list of who's naughty and nice, and you can write to him...

Then, a few years later,
they are told
that everyone was just lying about one of them.

EVERYONE.
A giant conspiracy by family, stores, T.V., radio, books...
They were just lying about Santa, but no, no, no...
The other guy?
That one's true.

We were discussing this the other night,
and after years of me thinking that was such a scam,
I thought, well, maybe it's smarter than I think.
Go ahead and teach 'em young that people lie,
even the one's you trust.
And start with a GIANT lie, that everyone is in on...
That has costumes and theme songs (wait, so do churches)
And besides, NOT teaching Santa to a kid would be considered blasphemous.
A certain child abuse.
The neighbors would talk.
Future spouses and therapists:
"Poor _____, you know he/she never had a Santa Claus".
And they'll cluck and shake their heads.

Perhaps that's what's truly wrong with alot of people.
They're grown ups now,
but somewhere inside,
they're still pissed about the Santa thing.

But what do I know, I thought there were little guys inside the radio.
- pp
------------------------
If you hate all this holiday shit,
maybe you should get get a copy of
"Holidays On Ice"
by David Sedaris
As a "christmas present" to yourself.
It's really funny.
Although, I think EVERYONE
should get a copy of EVERYTHING
David Sedaris has EVER written.

MAY I SUGGEST?

Skip it...
The stores and the whores,
the signs and the whines,
the lights and the fights,
the oh so commercial
spirit reversal

the junk and the crap,
the funk and the wrap,
the loot and the stuff,
the bows and the fluff

Just a note:

"________ has made a charitable donation
in your name to ______________"

www.redcross.org
www.donorschoose.org
www.petfinder.org
www.chihuahuarescue.com
www.billfoundation.org
(or any other animal rescue)
www.hrc.org
www.apla.org
www.doctorswithoutborders.org
www.angelfood.org
www.mowaa.org (Meals On Wheels)
etc.
etc.
etc.
Unicef. Salvation Army, all of the cancer/illness charities...
whatever your flavor,
any other nonprofit in your area
or abroad that HELPS people or animals and relies
solely on donations to do good things.

THAT is the spirit of giving.
And your gift?
if they don't "get" it...
THEY JUST DON'T GET "IT".

I Hate The Holidays

These are the lyrics to a song I wrote
and then gave to people as a holiday gift.
With the current annual frenzy driving
me absolutely nuts again,
I think I'll post 'em.
------------------------------

I Hate The Holidays
by Pauley Perrette

Oh, the Holiday Cheer,
It comes every year,
You can´t hide, no matter how scary,
You must join the fun
There´s no where to run
Just smile and be merry, merry...

Selling guilt
And credit pays,
"Peace and Love" as bad cliches,
Some dumb carols, plays and plays...
God, I hate the holidays...

Big fake smiles and a yule log´s blaze,
Choke on the smell of Christmas sprays,
Weird Elf suits and store displays...
I hate the holidays...

God I hate the holidays,
I really hate the holidays...

Sweater sales and plastic sleighs,
Santa Hats, passed-on fruitcake,
Jingle bells and children´s plays,
God, I hate the holidays...

Travel plans and nerves a´fray,
Gift wrap...Everyone is Gay!
Ornaments and a new toy craze...
I hate the holidays...
God, I hate the Holidays...
I HATE THE HOLIDAYS
(repeat this like a million times,
and you can scream it all hardcore if you want
and stomp around, it helps)

GAY TEENS

I've been inspired tonight to throw
this out into the universe.
If you are a gay teen,
especially in an environment where you are
ostracized or completely misunderstood,
please write to me:
pauleypdotcom@gmail.com
It is impossible for me to return all emails,
I try to read as many as I can,
but if this is your situation,
I will try and get your e-mails to me ASAP.
The Suicide Rate amongst Gay Teens is
RIDICULOUS and wrong,
you are LOVED, not hated
by people you don't even know.

And if you are a hacker,
impersonator, asshole
who writes to me as many different people,
I ask first for you to leave this one alone,
and second,
fuck you,
you will only get responses to encourage...
and offer understanding and hope
to a segment of our society,
our fellow humanity,
that has been given a raw deal
by the persecution of many,
and much pain,
often in God's name...
That ain't "God Is Love" by the way.
That's just people being awful,
as they tend to be.

God bless us ALL.

BIG BEAUTIFUL GIRL

I BEGGED my boyfriend to
let me come to his work today
(he said yes)
because they were shooting
something I love and
ABSOLUTELY had to go see...
love, love love HER,
GORGEOUS!:

ANDI

This is my sister.
She's a piece of work.
Beautiful,
far braver than me,
outspoken,
funny as hell,
great mom,
great sister,
great multi-medium artist,
wonderfully strange,
extremely intelligent
and has read I think every book
ever written,
and seen every sub-titled film ever made,
... she's a force.

I always tell her,
"I love you because you're my
friend, not just because you're my sister."

Big, Big Love.
We have been through so much together.
Lucky me.

Donna Wilson Bell

Mamma died of breast cancer in December 2002.

My enemy hacked my computer and
erased all of my e-mails from her (and everyone else)
that I had saved
before she became an angel.
Just to be mean.
And destroyed invaluable tangible
links to her,
because evil is,
by definition,
incredibly selfish.
But...
Fuck you...
I still have my beautiful memories.

December 1st.
Bad day.
But she inspired me still.

Today,
I would love to go back
and read
and remember
every correspondence.
But I can't.
I miss her every day.
God, I miss her.
I need her right now
more than ever.
But we are not allowed such luxuries,
and this planet proves to us
everyday,
that it belongs to devils, not angels.

I was going to try and find
a piece I wrote about my mother
and grandma and post it in their honor,
And share it with everyone.
But all of my honor and memory
has been erased by evil.

Donna Bell was beautiful,
and small and southern and old fashioned.
She loved her husband and her family
and God ...
and that was enough.

She fought cancer with a grace
that cancer did NOT deserve.

Her eyes were bluer than any sea
that we know,
and so was her soul,
at times,
I think.
But she'd never let you know it.
She laughed and she prayed
with the dignity and strength
of a warrior.

I need her so much now.
But she left to become
yet another
angel,
in yet another form.

Sometimes I am glad that she
was spared the turmoil of the
earthly knowledge of what I am experiencing now,
because she loved me so much.
But then again,
I believe that now she knows everything.
Every secret a child keeps from their parent;
Silly or sacred,
for whatever reason.
Every truth an adult keeps from
their parent
due to love or sacrifice,
And It Is All O.K.

Donna Wilson Bell.
I love you.
I need you.
I miss you.
Every day.
And the photo that I keep
next to the coffee pot
in my temporary housing,
makes me feel
sad
and strong
Every Day.

-------------------------------------------------------------

The following is an older writing
of mine about mom:

MAMMA DRAMA
"I just can't seem to drink her
off my mind"

And my mom said...
(while fading in and out)
"Remember my red fuzzy robe..."
me - "what?"
later:
her - "The red fuzzy one?"
me - "what?"
later:
her - "My red fuzzy bath robe?"
me - "Yeah...?
her - "...That Was Fun!"
and she smiled, and faded off.

And then, later...
Blue eyes opened, looking straight at me,
"We'll always be together."
me - "yep."
And then, later, she went to the sky.

(I have that robe now)
----------------------------------------------------
And now, I don't have that robe.
But....
see?
I remember.