With the state of my sex life being as it is, I just assumed the pain in my groin was a manifestation of my unappreciated libido. It was a numb pain, as longing for love can be, but as time went on it became more intense. Then I couldn’t get out of bed. Time to call the doctor (and not Dr. Drew).
After ruling out a pulled groin or hernia, my well equipped (and gay) doctor assumed it must be an STD, even as I explained that my sex life is almost as active as Lindsay Lohan’s career. Convinced otherwise, he treated me for Gonorrhea and Chlamydia, and took a blood/urine test. As I waited for the results (a staggering 5 days), I assumed I likely contracted the HIV virus in a way never before known, the news of which would rocket through the medical community and thus make me a celebrity in a way I never wanted. A day later I learned I didn’t have HIV. Scratch that off the paranoia list.
I waited; creating a very short list of everybody I had intimate moments with in the past year or so. The list became a doodle like entry from a United Nations Ambassador:
- Mexican guy
- Todd (black guy)
- Berlin guy
- Australian Asian
- Japanese guy Greg?
- Random NY white guy thrown in for good measure
Of course, it could also be testicular cancer. Cancer. That word is just so heavy. It’s like “buttermilk.” It sounds yummy, but after eating it you just feel bloated and ashamed.
Naturally I thought about how I would handle a diagnosis of testicular cancer. I couldn’t use it as a part of my comedy, Tig Notaro beat me to that. Let’s be real, in an arm wrestling match between testicular cancer and breast cancer, the latter will always win (congrats Tig!).
So this was a concern, but not a big concern, as I was pretty sure that based on my general state of good health, high activity level, and no family history of it, testicular cancer wasn’t a likely outcome. Right?
Gay doctor, “So you tested negative for all STD’s and HIV, and you’re in good shape and general health, but the HCG (Human Chorionic Gonadotropin) hormone was found in your bloodstream, which is commonly found in pregnant women, but when found in non-pregnant individuals it is in indicator of cancerous cells that lead to the formation of tumors.” “Okay, but have we 100 percent ruled out that I’m not pregnant?”
After a very long day of listening to Adele in various medical offices, it turns out that these little tranny cancer cells in my body that were just waiting for the opportunity to transition into tumors were successful. I don’t care what anybody says, “Testicular Cancer” is a horrible name for a tranny.
I rationally understand that testicular cancer is the new black, everyone is getting it and it’s so posh to have your testicles removed. And there’s a near 100 percent survival rate for men (if found early). But even with all that information, that word, “Cancer” will be a marker for me for a moment in my life, a moment I never expected. I’ll become that “Hot Gay Mormon Cancer Survivor” comic. If Tig becomes a Mormon, I’m going to sue her for defamation of character.
Come this Friday, I’ll be lighter in the junk department (not like I had that much there to lose in the first place). My doctor is amazing (as Mom says, “Always trust a Jewish doctor!”). Nevertheless, I am nervous. I am scared. However, I’m still holding out for the possibility that I might just be pregnant.
Basically, touch your balls and if something feels funny, go to the doctor! More info here.
Ever been on a great date? What’s that like?
H. Alan Scott (Huffington Post, Celebrity Twitter Directory, Time Out “Joke of the Week, Oprah said his name), brings you a webisode about a gay man searching for a traditional romance in a world filled with assholes. (Ed note: No, really, literal photos of assholes, on the phone. On MY phone.)
Ever been on a great date? What’s that like?
H. Alan Scott (Huffington Post, Celebrity Twitter Directory, Time Out’s “Joke of the Week,” SRSLY LOL, and Oprah said his name), brings you a webisode about a gay man searching for a traditional romance in a world filled with assholes. (Ed note: No, really, literal photos of assholes, on the phone. On MY phone.)
Jay-Z came out in support of gay marriage only because Beyonce kept nudging him to the left, to the left…
”.. you don’t rewrite the nature of God’s design for marriage,” Tami Fitzgerald of Vote for Marriage North Carolina. This clearly means we get to stone cheating North Carolinans!
OUR DREAM COME TRUE!!!! How did our gaydar not go off earlier?!?!!?
Word is buzzing all over town that King William III is getting it on with the seksi men around him. Rumor has it that he is constantly around his close
f*ck buddiesguy friends and he only had ONE mistress when he was with his wifey, Queen Mary II.
Hmmm, that’s why he was probably sooo sad when QMII died. She was his beard!!!
We’ll take care of you, bb!! We know a FABOOSH secret hideaway down the Jersey shore!!
The original cast member of @LogoTV’s #AList: King William III!
When I was baptized I knew it was a bad idea. I figured I’d try to stump them, so I asked where all the black people were. They immediately said Gladys Knight was Mormon. I know, I was shocked by that too, I had no idea the midnight train stopped in Salt Lake City.
I’m originally from a small town in Missouri, Kirkwood, a suburb of St. Louis. Very quaint, simple little town centered around the train station and high school football team. We’re famous for the local pizza guy kidnapping a kid and keeping him in the basement for 4 years. But he made great pizza!
Watching the “It Gets Better” videos has left me feeling like somehow I missed out on something. Where’s my agony? My heartache? I was so painfully well adjusted with liberal parents (sure we’re Mormon, but we were like the affirmative action family for the Mormons, they kept us around because we made them seem populist). Instead of wearing black or a trench-coat or some other hate crime inspiring apparel, I wore khaki’s, sweater vests and pastels. Finding out I was gay was about as shocking as running into Newt Gingrich at a buffet.
Not once was there ever a time when anyone thought I was anything but gay. I’m a gold star gay, I’ve never been with a woman. I just recently learned women don’t pee through that little “man in the boat” situation downstairs. My mother would even say, “When you kids grow up an have children,” and then to look to me and say, “… or adopt.” There was always an alternative for me.
Every gay guy has that one special gal, in my case, I had an entire family. They were the Whites (that’s their last name, not just white people in general, however the Whites are in fact white).
There was Judy, the Mom, whose creativity and unique point of view showed me that I could say anything I wanted if I just owned it. Meredith, the universal baby sister to us all, whose warmth and kindness is masked by a fierce determination to accomplish anything (picture Hillary Clinton talking Osama bin Laden down while wearing pearls). Finally Lori (L-O-R-I, thank you very much), who had this boldness and awesome sense of self (and just a flat out genius). Over the years we spent together, these three women became my second family. Together the three of them made what would be like a super hero gay man.
We had a tendency to dress in themes for dances (I know!). I dressed as Elvis Costello once for Lori. My real last name is Hoeninger, but is often mispronounced as “Ho-Nigger.” Which is just another reason why it was destiny for us to join forces. Together we became a collective White Ho-Nigger.
As a comedian, you take adversity and turn it into comedy. I’d probably be more successful if I were to have, I dunno, a mini-bout with being bipolar, some sort of bullying, maybe a pathetic attempt at suicide involving a broken Madonna cd, I-don’t-know. Instead all I got is that, because of the Whites, my awesome parents, and some strange element of “I-don’t-give-a fuck” attitude, I went to a high school dance dressed as Elton John in a pink boa (you read that right), and be crowned King! To quote my friend Sharon Spell, it never really could get better for me, it’s more like “It plateaued.”
I am so grateful for my family. Of course for all the obvious reasons, but mainly because they offer me so much amazing material for comedy. They are gold mine for hilarity.
Just a couple little comedic diddies from my last visit with them:
- We are Mormon. At one point, we were talking in the kitchen, and the Osmonds came on TV. Everybody fell silent. The Osmonds are to Mormons are what Sarah Palin is to batshit crazy people (aka the Conservative wing of the Republican party) – they our are leaders, our inspiration, our Buddha.
- My mother has lost weight. I quote, “Getting a Lupus diagnosis was hard, but also a blessing. It’s a great diet!”
- For Thanksgiving dinner, we went to the casino buffet.
- Side note on this one: While waiting in the long line to enter the buffet, a man fainted. But rather than be concerned about the man, people in line were more concerned with how he was holding up the line.
- There was a moment of high drama late a night. Yelling occurred, tears flowed, your typical Thanksgiving family moment. What’s funny about this? After all is well again, I check my Twitter updates. My brother’s girlfriends most recent update: “Praying everything will be alright.” I don’t know what’s funnier, that in a moment of disaster she turned to Twitter or the passive/vague nature of her Twitter update.
- My brother deep friend a turkey. As he was snacking on the bird while carving it, he said, “Oh, wow, that part is cold.” Turns out the middle of the bird not only wasn’t cooked, but was partially frozen.
- During the course of my visit, the following question was asked, “In your gay relationships, do you play the male or female role?”
There’s nothing like being with family during the holiday season.
I used to hide the music that made me seem gay. If I had a friend (or “friend”) over, I’d make sure that Madonna, Janet Jackson, Whitney Houston, especially Bette Midler, were all well hidden in the closet (typical, right?). What was left were a handful of Bob Dylan albums, some Tom Petty, and a Led Zepplin album that I never listened to but got from my brother for the very purpose of masking my actual musical interests (strangly enough, that Led Zepplin was the catalyst that sparked the interest in the dude I lost my virginity too, so, thanks Led Zepplin! wait, it’s probably not a person.)
Music continued to be the ultimate indicator of gayness, even as I got older. Back in the day, everybody was into Dave Matthew’s Band. I never got it. I gravitated towards the alternative rockers, a lot of them lesbians. Indigo Girls were big, Tegan & Sara, Tracy Chapman is another one. But again, when you’re trying to be cool, just one of the guys, it’s really hard to make a convincing argument for Melissa Etheridge.
Then I discovered R&B. Wow! The very essence of old school R&B was just feeling the music, no matter who you were. The music made you move, feel, get sad, get crazy. Aretha (oh holy hell, Aretha!), Sam Cooke, Rufus Thomas (“Walking the Dog), Otis Redding, The Supremes, Carla Thomas (“Any Day Now”), Marvin Gaye, Isaac Hayes, etc. This is the universal music, it inspired everybody, mainly because it was created out of respect for artists before them, respect for truth, respect for emotions, and respect for whatever makes you feel something (even if it is just to dance). There’s a reason why it’s often called “Soul,” it comes from the soul, it comes from truth, and it comes from the freedom to be who you are and what you feel.
And it was R&B that gave me the courage to stand up for whatever I thought was good. I can love Madonna, Indigo Girls, Tina Turner, Sam and Dave, Bright Eyes, Jenny Lewis, and Aretha, with pride! There’s something pretty amazing about jumping from Lady Gaga to Carla Thomas, and then seeing the similarities between the two.
Music is meant to make you feel something, not make you feel insecure about what everybody else thinks is good or bad.
FYI – if you’re ever in NYC on a Friday night, go see Naomi Shelton at Fat Cats in the West Village (75 Christopher St), at 9pm. You will be blown away!
“Ok! See you there. I’ll text again when I’m close. Yay, so exciting,” said the text.
I got to the bar early. (waiting. waiting. waiting. phone rings, it’s mom)
“Scott, I had trouble getting a hold of you earlier so I wrote the message on your Facebook wall.” (do they make a facebook for dummies book? they should!) “But I just wanted to let you know that your father has had a mini heart attack.” (what?! this is such bad timing! and you wrote that on my facebook page?!)
Turns out he’s fine, needs rest, can’t exert much energy on anything. Bed rest, best medicine.
Then he appeared.
“So nice to see you.”
“I know, it’s so good to see you too.” (he’s cute. should I tell him about the heart attack? no, don’t be a debbie downer.) “So my mom just told me my dad had a heart attack.” (i’m a fool.)
We pushed through, got a drink. Conversation going well. (wow, he’s really cute.)
“Yeah, so I try to stay healthy, I’m an avid runner, work out a lot, eat right.” (except for those 2 massive slices of pizza i had earlier in the evening. do not mention this, it is not attractive.)
He’s looking into my eyes. He likes how blue they are. There’s silence. This guy is into me. It’s still silent. (should i say something? do i have something in my teeth?) “Engage,” I say, then laugh, awkwardly. (note to self, do not dramatically say engage to spur conversation, you’ll just wind up looking like a douche bag).
Break the tension, “Wow, I’ve got indigestion from that pizza I had earlier.” (way to not bring up the pizza from earlier!)
Awkward moments galore, but things are still going well. A kiss is on the horizon. Well, more than a kiss, good, old-fashioned making out will happen. I can feel it in the air. The silence is back. For a comic, silence is not golden, it’s when you’ve lost your audience. (kiss me already!) Bite the bullet, “If you wanna kiss me, you might as well go ahead and do it,” I say. (smooth)
Commence make out session.
More making out.
Make out some more.
(did I floss?)
Time to leave. We walk together down the street. (it’s so nice to be back in new york city. no city is better to date in than nyc.) I’m a lady, I don’t give up this jelly on the first date. mama taught me well. and by well i mean how to be a prude) But he digs my crazy Mormon influenced standards, which makes me dig him more. This guy is hot!
“Goodnight.” Makeout more. “Okay, really, goodnight.” Kiss again. ”Seriously now, I gotta go.” Kiss a little more. (i wonder if a terrorist homophobe is watching this blaent public display of affection and getting ready to lay some hate crime action on me? oh, who cares, this is fun!)
Commence walk home. Better said, commence giddy walk of joy home.
One of my favorite things about getting the Sunday edition of the NY Times is the wedding section. Alright, please refrain from thinking, “How gay!,” it isn’t like that. My interest does not lie in the pics of the dresses or the details, but the gay people announcing their commitments to one another. For someone of my generation, have grown up in two worlds, one where being gay was okay just not publically accepted to one where being gay is actually fashionable, seeing two men announce their wedding plans in the newspaper is still pretty friggin exciting!
Think of the 13 year old out there right now, reading his parents newspaper, coming across the announcement of two men’s wedding plans, thinking, “Alright, these feelings aren’t so bad, this is normal, maybe I can tell Mom I’m gay.” (Cause we always tell Mom first, right?)
The other couple announcements are fine, I’m sure they will live long and happy lives together. But there is a bit of cynicism attributed to the straight couples, something like you-have-it-so-easy type of emotion, do they even realize this? Straight people take for granted that they can file mutual taxes, receive federal benefits for their marriage, and adopt without having to explain why they share the same bed. It isn’t their fault they’re straight and have it so easy, but I will always remind them of it. It’s the older Jewish woman inside of me.
Will I announce my wedding plans in the NY Times? Um, do you know what I do? I’m a comic, which loosely translates to “attention whore” I’m going for the front page!
New York Magazine has this great feature in its current issue about noteworthy people’s arrival in NYC. I consider myself noteworthy, so I’m sure the invitation to take part in the article from NY Mag got lost in the mail. In any case, I shall share my story here.
I moved to NYC on Wednesday, November 17, 2004, however I didn’t know it at the time. I worked in politics and I had just concluded a failed U.S. Senate race in Missouri. Before my anticipated move back to Chicago, I planned on visiting my friend Lori in Philadelphia, and then my friend Dylan (and future roommate) in NYC.
I took the Chinatown bus up from Philadelphia. Dylan told me to find the Q train, but didn’t give directions through Chinatown. After many failed attempts at asking for directions (FYI – never ask for directions in Chinatown, everyone is either Chinese or a tourist), I finally stumbled upon the Q train.
It was late afternoon, the sun was just setting. The Q train came out onto the Manhattan bridge. The view of lower Manhattan took my breath away. There was no way I was going back to Chicago.
A week later I moved into a 4-bedroom apartment overlooking Prospect Park in the Flatbush neighborhood of Brooklyn. It was a total culture shock for me. Here I was, a fat, gay, white, man moving into a predominantly black and Hasidic Jewish neighborhood with 3 straight guys from Little Rock, Arkansas. I wasn’t in Boystown anymore!
I took a job with a closeted gay man running for Manhattan Borough President, but didn’t really do anything at the job. I hated it, and the only reason I took it was because it paid well, I got my own office and it was in Midtown. For the first few months in NYC all I did was work and watch marathons of TV on DVD. Eventually I put down the pizza slice, discovered the benefits of living right on a park, and lost 100 lbs.
I owe NYC so much. Without it, I probably never would have lost the weight or have shifted from politics to comedy. NYC is my inspiration.
And now the American Express commercial can begin!
I’m loving what’s going on in Vermont, Iowa and Washington, DC. Go team, GO!
This morning I overheard somebody talk about the opponents to gay marriage. One of the first things you hear when somebody is opposed to gay marriage is, “okay, now that they can get married, what’s next, sheep?!?” Why do they always bring up animals? Is there a secretly large population of people who wish to marry an animal? No judgments, I guess, but I’m going to venture to say that the number is small in comparison to gay couples.
The next group of people to oppose gay marriage is the Mormons. I overheard a gay man saying that Mormons should not have the right to an opinion on marriage, seeing that they marry multiple partners. Come on people, this is not true. I am Mormon, and I am the last person to defend the religion, but if you’re going to argue a point, you shouldn’t do so based on a falsehood. The people who marry multiple partners in the Mormon faith are radicals, not members of the current Mormon church and most have already been excommunicated.
I’ve seen 2 Broadway shows this week. Color me cultured, right? I saw Jane Fonda in 33 Variations and then Shrek: The Musical last night. Really enjoyed both. Jane Fonda is hot, enough said. I think I shall pick up her auto-bio, she’s kinda, sorta, fantastic! And Shrek was just fun, plain and simple.
But Shrek wasn’t without a little awkwardness. Of course a lot of children were at the show, which was lovely. It was so nice to hear a kid laugh at a fart joke. That sound of utter enjoyment of something, without pretense, is amazing. Kids are so pure, I love that about them. Adults get tainted by social norm shit.
Anyway, I digress. At intermission I had to use the restroom. Standing at the urinal doing my thing, I was bookended by children. They were both at crotch level, overtly staring at what I had to offer. As I stood there, I just kept telling myself, “Do not look down Scott, don’t look down.” First off, my gay hat and scarf combo screamed faggot (however, the clogs probably were enough of a spotter), and secondly, I didn’t know if there dad wasn’t standing behind me. It literally could have been a hate crime waiting to happen.
But alas, I made it out and alright and enjoyed the rest of the show. Phew, that was a close one!
I’ve always been obsessed with award shows. Any of them really, the Emmys, Golden Globes, even the Grammys (sort of). But the one that takes the cake is the Academy Awards.
The moment I fell in love was while watching the 1993 Academy Awards. I had fallen in love with Leonardo DiCaprio that year and wanted to watch him win for What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? I almost turned off the show when Tommy Lee Jones won instead (I’m still bitter about this). But I kept watching, and in the process an obsession was born.
I studied every year, read whatever I could get my hands on, and most importantly, watched the movies. Once my family got the internet, a whole new, and fantastic, way to research came into my life, in addition to an online community that was equally as obsessed as I was (am).
Now I research the Oscars to relax, and there are so many avenues for me to do so. Gold Derby is still fantastic! Film Experience Blog has become a a frequent stop of mine, in addition to In Contention and Awards Daily.
My interest in the Oscars as a child made up for my shyness, it became my friend. I’m not so shy anymore, so now it’s like I’m just visiting with an old friend. That and it’s always fun to tape the show and then pause the video to get the reaction shots of the losers. Best so far, Burt Reynolds losing to Robin Williams. Ouch!
I want to marry Harvey Fierstein. Unfortunately I can no longer do that in California. Instead I’ll settle for his brilliance.
by Harvey Fierstein
While we dance in the streets and pat ourselves on the back for being a nation great enough to reach beyond racial divides to elect our first African-American president let us not forget that we remain a nation still proudly practicing prejudice.
I have heard this day described as one of transcendence where Americans came together to prove that we are, above all, a nation of fairness. World witnesses wrote that we rose above ideology, politics and bigotry to achieve a great moment for America. Meanwhile, on this same Election Day, we great Americans passed laws as heinous as any Jim Crow legislation. We great Americans reached out and willfully put our name to language that denies an entire minority group their equal rights.
Of course I am referring to the states of Florida, Arizona and California passing legislation to specifically deny gay people from entering into the contract of marriage. Actually, that’s not true. We can still get married, just not to each other. Yes my friends, Florida and California have now made it legal for gay men and lesbians to marry as long as we don’t marry our partners. How much sense does that make?
Now, before you rise up on your high horse to holler, “We’re not against Civil Unions, just Gay Marriage”, let me once again explain that THE SUPREME COURT HAS STATED THAT SEPARATE BUT EQUAL IS NOT EQUAL. And even if it were, civil unions are simply not equal to marriage.
Let me give you a simple example that anyone can follow. John and Jim are registered as domestic partners and so, just like a married couple; Jim is covered by John’s employee health care. That’s really nice. BUT… since the IRS does not recognize civil unions or domestic partnership Jim has to pay income tax on the value of this coverage. So, unlike a married couple, John and Jim are penalized hundreds of dollars for not being married. That’s not fair. That’s not in the spirit of the civil union legislation. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg of the inequality being offered.
Listen, my fellow Americans, I am only asking that we get sensible about this controversy. Gays are not asking for religious blessings. We are not asking for everyone to come to our weddings. We are not asking the government to force churches and synagogues to perform marriage rituals or even to allow us into their tax-exempt edifices. We are simply and forcefully demanding equal protection under the laws of this nation as tax paying, voting, property owning citizens. I want no more or less protection than granted any heterosexual to control and distribute my holdings.
State sanctioned marriage is a civil contract period. A contract is not a judgment of moral value. It is a legal agreement between two parties that testifies to a meeting of minds between those consenting entities. It is not a religious act or rite and so has nothing to do with Adam and Eve or Steve or even Harvey. I often say that if you want to really want to understand the contract of marriage just ask anyone who has been divorced. The marriage contract is one of property rights. Or maybe you can look in the bible to see what Adam had to say about divorce since Eve was his second wife.
So, while we rightfully celebrate the election of our first African American president, let us take a moment to mourn the passage of three new laws legalizing prejudice. Of course there will be those who claim that voters were only protecting the institution of marriage to whom I would suggest it is just as likely that Obama’s supporters were only voting against W. Breaking the lock on my door doesn’t make your home any more secure.
I went to sleep on election night elated that this country elected such a dynamic figure to the Presidency, and woke up the next morning slapped in the face with the harsh reality that many still view me as a second class citizen.
Many of those who hold that viewpoint were once also persecuted for whom they are and/or what they believed. The largest factions of people who supported “Yes on 8″ were…
- People of color, whose history of discrimination in the United States is well documented.
- Christians, many Mormons, who were killed in the early days of their religion just for believing.
So soon they forget the past.
The passing of Prop 8 is so much bigger then the state of California, it’s a national issue. The ripple effects of this decision are enormous. In the years to come, when another state attempt to ban gay marriage, the quote on all the mail sent to voters will be, “Even liberal California voted against gay marriage!” Adoption rights are next. The list goes on.
At first I was lost, didn’t know what to do next. But it is clear now that the most important thing I can do is to continue the conversation. I implore you, especially if you’re straight, next time you’re having a casual conversation with somebody, say “Did you hear what happened in California?” Make it personal, because stripping American citizens of fundamental rights IS personal.
I love my mom and step-dad. They instilled in me the belief that I do have the right to grow up to be an active participant in society. That hard work leads to a good job. That kindness and respect toward others leads to friendships and relationships. Then comes love, and if you want, having children and teaching them the very things that I was taught. Those are my rights, and the state cannot give it and then take it away.
Please, sign this petition: http://www.petitiononline.com/seg5130/petition.html
I am proud of my country for electing Barack Obama, but I am so distraught that many Americans don’t see that an incredible injustice happened on Tuesday, November 4th. Barack Obama said, “It’s been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this date in this election at this defining moment change has come to America.” Not quite, but it will, we can do it if we all do our part. Talk to your friends, family, co-workers!
Thank you, I hope you’re well, and if you’re in NYC, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!
xoxo – Scott
President Obama, I like it!
Being a second class citizen in the eyes of the most “liberal” state in the country? Well, it blows!
Yesterday the people of California said that gay marriage wasn’t for them, adding the ban to the state’s constitution. 60% of people would need to vote in favor of it next time for the constitution to be be amended. Only 48% of people supported it yesterday. Fat chance it’s going to be amended anytime soon.
I feel strange. On one hand I’m thrilled that Obama is President-elect, but on the other I’m sad, disappointed, scared and pissed that once again I’m made to feel somehow different from the rest.
The ripple effects of yesterday’s vote are terrifying. In years to come, every time a gay measure is on the ballot, the opposition’s quote on ever piece of direct mail will be, “… even liberal California voted against gay marriage!” Other states will use this vote as a catalyst for a vote in their own state. Banning gay adoption is next. This is fucking terrifying.
What’s next? I don’t know. Any ideas?
Proposition 2 overwhelmingly passed though. Chickens and pigs will now be able to roam free in cageless environments in the state of California before being slaughtered for food. It’s comforting to know that barnyard animals are viewed as having more value then gay people, isn’t it?