We don't run the gay community, we just organize it!
Brought to you by the charmingly off-hinge imaginations of some of Philly’s Dumpsta Players and featuring work by local artists, Regeneration presents re-imaginings and re-purposed inventions from illustrative typography to ornate wig art.
“I can’t do it anymore: have sex with my partner, that is. When we first got together 8 years ago he wasn’t a health nut or anything, but he was normal weight and very attractive to me. A few years into dating, he started to let himself go: eating too much and never getting any exercise. Three years ago when it became legal here in New Jersey, we had a civil union and since we’ve been married he’s gained probably another 50 pounds. Not only am I not attracted to him anymore but the sex has gone downhill too. He can’t get erections as easily, they don’t stay hard and he’s lazy about how we do it. It’s just not worth it to me anymore. I refuse to fake interest. If he doesn’t care about his appearance, what else can I do?”
I love tennis. It has long been the only sport I can endure to watch on television. Growing up, quite out of character, I welcomed NBC’s mid-summer preemption of “Days of our Lives” in lieu of Wimbledon – an exchange of one sweaty drama for another. In 1993, I was 16, Pete Sampras and Steffi Graf won Wimbledon, and I was going to marry Steffi while having an affair with Pete.
Way back in January when the year was young and everything was new again (again), I answered the call of a rainbow tweet, and the months since have seen my name skyrocket from relative obscurity to supreme upper-tier obscurity, relatively. I’m speaking, of course, of my ongoing tenure as a columnist for PhillyGayCalendar.
If you haven’t been down East Passyunk Avenue lately, you probably are unaware of a quiet revolution under way in South Philly. Under the noses of the old Italian families who have defined the character of this part of the area, the old neighborhood has gotten more multiethnic, more diverse, and maybe even just a bit more upscale.
I was guest at an event on Easter called 101 Temptation. It was hosted by none other than PhillyGayCalendar and NightLifeGay.
It takes quite a lot to get me to battle the seething breeders of South Street, especially on a weekend, but Rich Rubin makes it all worth while.
“Laughing my ass off” has a whole new meaning.
“The girth of my penis is just four inches, so I cannot wear a condom. So I am not able to do safe sex. What should I do?”
With the financial collapse, it isn’t a huge surprise to see people start to leave for more stable positions. But rarely will you see a socially-conscious banker leave the industry to sing about peace. Yes, peace. The last thing most people find on the floors of the New York Stock Exchange.
Sign up to receive important email updates about events and news in the community.
Lesbian
Trans
People of Color
Drag Queen/King