Too Sexy for this Blog

When's the last time you heard anyone say, "I just need to find the right black gay guy living with HIV/AIDS to settle down with?"

Chances are, you've never heard anyone say such a thing.

That's because most people have a hard time imagining that a black gay guy living with HIV/AIDS is worth loving.

Fortunately, they don't have to. I'm going to imagine it for them--on my whole other blog, the one I like to call my sexy blog. lol

Poz? Be Sexy Poz

Behold the new fragrance for men who happen to be living with HIV/AIDS.

Let's face it: men who happen to be HIV-negative can act like highly insensitive jerks with their highly ignorant "clean" and "disease-free" attitudes. Why, it's almost enough to make a poz dude feel less special and worthy. Almost.

Don't inhale the negative thinking of neg dudes. Take a big honking whiff of yourself and realize: sexy is all in your head, not theirs.

Be U. Be sexy poz.

• This message brought to you by Funky Black Poz Jock, because Randy Boyd has Blocks and Balls.

My Whole Other Blog

Where can you find images of HIV-positive people being happy, sexy and healthy?

One of the reasons I blog is to help the world dream a better dream about HIV/AIDS. It is helping? I can't speak for rest of the planet, but it does make me feel good.

To see my sexy side, check out my whole other blog.

I'm Not Gay, Just Jock Crazy!

I am not gay, nor have I ever been gay. I repeat, gay does not = me.

I'm capable of having sex with a man or a woman, but I can only imagine being in love, soul to soul, with a man. Why? Who's to truly say, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with being Jock Crazy.

What is Jock Crazy? When did I catch it? Is someone born Jock Crazy? What are its side effects? Can a person who's Jock Crazy be changed?

Find out on my whole other blog in a 14-part saga that reveals why I'm not gay, just Jock Crazy!

Dream of a Sexy, Black Author Living with AIDS

"When’s the last time you read a book, saw a movie, heard a love song, passed a billboard, seen a commercial on television, seen any image anywhere where the hot, sexy, funny, cuddly, warm, romantic, all-American object of anyone’s affection was ... someone like me?”

from Walt Loves the Bearcat

When's the last time you heard someone say:

"I just need to find the right black man living with AIDS to settle down with."

"Let's go see this great thriller about a black detective living with AIDS who uncovers a plot to ..."

"Tonight on Deal or No Deal, a black man living with AIDS tries to outwit the banker!"

"This season on The Bachelor, will a black gay man living with AIDS find true love and the man of his dreams?"

"Coming to theaters Friday: the tender love story of an HIV-positive black man who meets a ..."

"Join the outrageous fun in this new, must-see-TV comedy about a black gay man living with AIDS and his ...."

"For more on this story, let's get the perspective of a black man who has been living with AIDS ..."

"This month's book club selection is a wonderful story about a black gay man living with AIDS whose remarkable story has ..."

" ... who, by the way, is living with AIDS in addition to all these other wonderful, great and inspiring things about this man, who, by the way, also happens to be black."

The world is having a hard time imagining someone like me being just like them. Lucky for me, they don't have to. I'm going to imagine it for them. Click here for my whole other blog, featuring the sexy side of author Randy Boyd. :)

What Be This Thing Called "Natch?"

It's not a bird. It's not a plane. And it sure ain't Superman. But it is mighty super, man, especially if you're in the loop. Are you in the loop?

Do you know what be this thing called "natch?"

Follow the trail, if you dare, in search of ... Natch, now at Funky Black Poz Jock (.com), the blog for my body!

CAUTION: To the minds of the world that, for any reason, cannot imagine a black man loving himself and dreaming of loving other men: my whole other blog is not for you!

Natch!

Could You Fall in Love With This Face?

My fellow Americans,

In my American Dream, anyone can achieve their ultimate golden dream come true.

No matter who you are, where you came from, the color of your skin, your religion, your background, no matter any of the things that enslaved the dreams of peoples of the past ... no matter any of that, as an American, you can achieve your dream. Right?

My American Dream is a simple one. True love. As defined by every American that's ever dreamed of having a romantic partner, a husband, a wife, a spousal equivalent, a civil unionist, let's not get bogged down by the terms. A boo.

"I want what the Obamas got."

What good is any American Dream without an American dreamer to live the dream with you, mind, body and soul? Would the first black president's story be as compelling without a first black president's soul mate? Heavens, no.

I want what the Obamas got. No, not the presidency. The bond. The partner in peril and triumph. The boo. But I've never had a boo, just meat. All the flesh you can eat but rarely breakfast.

So far, I've been single for life, a co-creation of nightmarish dreams by myself and the world. But I no longer believe in nightmares. I believe that dreams come true. Black men can be president of the USA. Surely, a black man can find true love, at least for a little while, right? Don't I deserve a taste of Happily Ever After with an Asterisk like every American?

Thing is, the first half of my life, I was a closeted basket case who pretty much felt like an unlovable nigger faggot. The world was pretty good at confirming my suspicions, too. Yep, y'all played along real good, give yourselves a hand!

"I'm available to both HIV-positive and HIV-negative people, right?"

The second half of my life, however, has been quite different. It started out kinda rocky. There was the AIDS baby I got preggers with in 1985, a month after graduating UCLA (where I was a cheerleader). That was a pretty big hit. But here I am, miracle of miracles, alive in the two oh, oh, ohs! And I'm happy to be living with AIDS! I even write novels where the main characters are black and HIV poz like me; and my boys have been nominated for five Lambda Literary Awards!

But, world, there's just this one thing ... I still ain't found no true love, and I don't know if I still believe my American Dream can come true. Can I be loved for all that I am? Can I be loved no matter the color of my skin or what lies underneath?

The world has come a long way since the AIDS Panic of the last century. People with AIDS have babies now, oftentimes with people without AIDS. Science has gotten a good handle on what is and what isn't safe sex. HIV-negative folk can get all the safe nut they want with HIV-positive folks.

So I'm back on the American Meet Market, right? I'm available to both HIV-positive and HIV-negative people, right? Whether or not I find true love is all about who I am, how I took, how I take care of myself, my ambitions, my goals, my values, my beliefs, my ability to be a great lover, the content of my character, stuff like that, right? We all have an equal opportunity to be loved in America, right?

Is my American Dream possible? Am I living in the same America as my fellow Americans? Is there anybody in America who could fall in love with this face and make my American Dream come true?

The Author as Male Sexual Dawg

Breaking news, World, black men can be presidents of countries outside of Africa, and perhaps even more shocking, black homo authors have romantic and sexual dreams, just like other human beings!

For most of my life, I have kept my mouth shut and my body restrained when it comes to being a man who needs what all men need: to nut. After all, where in the world does a socially-retarded, black faggot who grew up abused and scared even begin to learn to feel comfortable in his own skin? From TV? From movies? From fairy tales? From the frat bros and sorority gals in college? From gay porno? From a world obsessed with a singular physical attribute of black men?

No, a socially-retarded black faggot learns to create worlds in his own mind, worlds where he is loved, cherished, respected and valued, worlds where he's allowed to be himself, queeny, manly, faggy, masculine, vulnerable, strong, relaxed, smart, funny and even, believe it or not, sexual.

If the socially-retarded black faggot is fortunate, he'll learned to be a storyteller, he'll get an education, his name will be Randy and he'll live long enough to show the world his dreams with stories and pictures ...

... which is exactly why I'm so freakin' glad I'm me, a once socially-retarded black faggot who's so much more than the sum total of the negative dreams provided to him by the world. Now, I got books and blogs to show the world all that I can be, brainy, funny, angry, thoughtful, even, believe it or not, sexual.

To the minds of the world that do not want to imagine a black man loving himself and dreaming of loving other men: caution, my whole other blog is not for you.

To the rest of the world: hey, I gotta nut, too! I even dream of nuttin' someday with a very special buddy. If you wanna check out the dreams my body dreams up when my brain's not working on the rest of life, visit the fun and funky world of the Funky Black Poz Jock (.com).