June 14, 2004

beautiful boys on a beautiful dance-floor
you're dancing like a beautiful dance whore

A while ago, I posted something about how I was aware that I come off as a cunt in emails. And, conveniently enough, I have an example and a favor to ask of you all.

About a week ago I received an email from Steven asking if I would put a link to him. Now, this email arrived in my junk mail folder, and the title of the email was "HI" so by all means I should have junked it without opening it, but I was feeling adventurous or something. Cosmically I must have known it wasn't junk mail.

His email was nice and sweet. He is working on a website for gay youth and wants me to link to him. While it was nice and all, it sounded a bit like a junk mail scam that permeates guestbooks. The biggest tip-off was that he signed off with "Very Truly Yours," and I doubted he was alluding to G & S. I was going to delete it, but I hated to think about not responding to someone's email. I always try to follow his rules, so I fired off a email asking for justification. He replied, and was a nice guy about it, but I still feel like a dork for questioning him.

However. According to his blog, he is the president of three clubs on his campus, maintains a 3.8 GPA, and runs a non-profit organization in his spare time. That makes him the dork. That also makes him a better person than I am, ergo I hate him. (edit: He maintains he is a sexy dork, and not a normal one.)


Because I feel like a jerk for my email, I'd like to ask everyone to click the above banner 80,000 times to help me repent. I'd like him to have more hits than Tina Turner on her honeymoon. (That's right. I went there.) Otherwise, if you could sign up for his bi-weekly newsletter, that'd be great, too. It's for a good cause: GYUP: Gay Young Urban Professionals Gay Youth Unity Project, which even sounds like something in which you should take an interest,
helping all the young dykes and faggots feel like they belong.

Pretty please? I'll love you forever.
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.