Reflections on life, culture, and the poor fashion choices of passersby, with just a little dash of shade. Join Poppy as she sips her latte and looks out on the world of gaiety, all from a cozy little booth in her neighborhood coffee shop.
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This week’s column contains adult language and content. Please don’t read it if you are under the age of 21, or have no sense of humor and a stick up your ass. You have been warned.
Hello, Pop Tarts! I hope you’re all having a wonderful time getting ready for summer – can you believe that it’s right around the corner? I can’t believe it. It seems like only yesterday that we were forced to watch the Lady GaGa Thanksgiving Special.
What was that, anyway? Moving right along…
First of all, I want to congratulate the incomparable Bianca Del Rio on her well-deserved win on RuPaul’s Drag Race. Bianca is an amazing talent and I’m just thrilled that she took the crown. I screamed and danced around the living room when she won – so much so that Mack asked me if I had bet money on her to win. I hadn’t, but I really should have! Bianca was the clear winner to me (from the very beginning), so I’m very happy that all the fans and Ru thought so as well. I do have to say that Adore and Courtney are both incredible performers, and I doubt that we’ve seen the last of them on Ru’s runway. Can you say All-Stars?
On another note…
I have to say that I do love all the baristas here at my coffee shop. They are all great people and brighten my day – all except one of them, that is. Snotty Barista always has a look on his face as if he is in the process of smelling a cat fart. He has way too much attitude for his own good, and always regards me with a look of disdain. I think it’s because I’m pretty and have better legs. Sure, he’s handsome – blond, blue eyes, Nordic bone structure – but he’s so tight-assed that you could shove a coal up his butt and five minutes later he’d shit a diamond. I suppose there has to be one in every bunch.
Grindr Man is here today. I think my nickname for him needs no explanation. I’m sure there are plenty of people here perusing Grindr – this is the “hub” of West Hollywood, after all – but Grindr Man is absolutely unabashed in his pursuit of his next hookup. If I’m feeling a bit randy on a particular day, I’ll just sit next to him and I am treated to an endless parade of man-flesh on his iPhone screen – which he leaves proudly face-up on his table.
Which brings me to a little public service announcement, Pop Tarts…
Manhunt, Adam-4-Adam, and Craigslist for Dummies
or
How to Get Your Scruffy Grindr Laid Without Sounding Like an Idiot
Now, let me say that I knew nothing about these “social websites” before I just happened upon them on my third ex-husband’s laptop. He had started a second business in Palm Springs and was spending a lot of time there, and one day when he was back at home here in L.A., as I was cleaning his computer keyboard with Windex and a q-tip – presto – there they were. Well…I was so surprised. Who knew? It’s like window-shopping for cock.
Let me just say, wow…the gay boys are efficient nowadays! Once upon a time cruising was all done with color-coded bandanas in the back pockets of your jeans.
Not that I’m old enough to remember…
Anyway, after I perused these sites at some length, I began to notice so many sickening, perverse, unnatural, filthy…spelling and grammatical errors all over the place! I mean, really – aren’t homos supposed to be more intelligent than straight men? It became apparent to me that y’all need a little refresher course in English.
Lesson #1 – Spelling! Spelling! Spelling!
1. Please put the “c” in “fuck.” It’s not spelled “fuk.”
This may not seem to be that big of a deal, but “fuck” is only four letters, for Christ’s sake. You are allowed to spell it that way if you’re Asian. Let me explain…
When I lived in New York City, one day I hopped into a cab and looked up and saw the driver’s name on the little license thingy that’s on the dashboard, and – as God is my witness, I swear this is true – his name was Man Fuk. M – a – n, f – u – k. Man Fuk. Or, it was Fuk Man. I didn’t ask him which was which, either way – can you imagine? For example, if you were angry and you said, “Hey, man…fuck!” would he know you were pissed? He was a surprisingly good driver, by the way, for…well…you know…
But I digress…
2. The same rule applies to the word “cock.” It’s not spelled “cok.”
This is especially important to distinguish between what goes up your ass and what goes up your nose (if you add an ‘e’ on the end). Of course, coke can go up your ass…but that’s another story that I’ll tell in my memoirs.
3. For once and for all, the word is “DISCREET” not “DISCRETE.”
Look it up in the dictionary if you doubt me, but I’m correct on this one. The word “discrete” is actually a word, meaning “individually separate and distinct.” However, on these sorts of websites, the correct spelling that guys should be using most of the time has two ‘e’s, and typically means “married,” “partnered,” or “doesn’t want my friends to know I like being fisted and called Veronica.”
Lesson #2 – Grammar and Usage
1. Waxing poetic won’t get you laid.
This is an actual profile off of Adam-4-Adam:
We have needs. And we want those needs fulfilled by someone we like. Not love like “the one and only” more like a “friend you fuck”. Maybe we’ll fall for each other, although we probably won’t, but in the meantime we can fuck each others brains out, and hope things go for the best…
Now, I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t make my nipples hard. Too passive aggressive. It reads like a self-help column in the back of Cosmopolitan.
2. Stick to a style. Pick either “casual” or “hardcore,” but try not to mix the two when writing your profile. It is confusing to your target audience.
For example:
I am not really sure what to put down. I would be glad to answer any questions. Let me know. 😉 I love to give head but not receive it. Would love to find someone to blow or have coffee with. Maybe hang out with at the Grove or the bathhouses. Into good books, rimming, travel, light bondage, and pets. I have two kittens, one is named Spike and the other is named Daisy.
I mean…really…
Ok, that’s it for this time, Pop Tarts! I have more lessons, but I’ll save those for a future column. I hope you have a wonderful week and that you all use the proper form of “discreet” while hooking up. It matters. As the legendary John Waters said, “If you go home with somebody, and they don’t have books – don’t fuck ‘em.”
Xoxo, Poppy
Poppy Fields is indeed from the Deep South – Alabama, in fact – but don’t hold that against her. As one-half of the cabaret duo, Mack & Poppy, she spends most of her time sewing on rhinestones, rehearsing music, and ogling hot men on the streets of West Hollywood. Follow her on Twitter here.
