Thursday, June 28, 2012

Invisible

For all of my big personality I waver between feeling like everyone is watching me and feeling like I'm invisible. Crazy I know, but it's true.

Those times when I feel like everyone is watching me it's usually, I feel, to tell me when I'm doing something wrong. To tell me what I need to correct about myself, or when a massive shitstorm has broken out and they want to make sure that I'm okay because it's a shitstorm that centers around transgenders or blacks or black gays. But those times when I feel invisible? Those are undoubtedly the worst.

It's because I spent years of my life only speaking when spoken to. I was the child who was always cleaning up behind the others, taking care of others, it was my job to make sure that everyone was encouraged and happy, had been fed, was healthy... Even to the detriment of my own health.

For the most part I am noticed. Noticed by those who I know without a shadow of a doubt love me, encourage me, support me, are on my side. Those things matter to me. That whole "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" thing is sorta my mantra. And I live by it. I forgive those who hurt me, who betray me, who use me for their own personal gain or to stroke their own ego, those who talk about me behind my back... Those who deceive me. But the thing is, even though I'm the one whose been wronged I'm the usually the one trying to forget and move past it. Go back to how things were. Whereas the ones who did me wrong disappear. Is it guilt that makes me invisible to them? Do they feel as if I am less worthy of respect, care, love, support and encouragement because I allowed them to use me?

Do they think that because of my past that I should be used to "family and friends" disappointing me, hurting me, betraying me, and using me? Should my skin be tougher because I've gone through the fire so many times?

I don't know. But over the last few weeks I have been thinking about those who treat me like I am invisible, like I'm second class. Like I'm stupid, filled with issues and not worth the time it would take for them to say "hey Vic! How ya doing'?"

Not because I'm a masochist or anything but because I see things they don't see. I know things about my future and my life, my career that they will never be privy to. I know that if you stab me I will bleed. But I also know that I've been stabbed a few times and I can still fight even when I'm oozing blood.

So I will let them continue to treat me like I'm invisible, like I don't matter, as if I'm stupid and don't know anything and when those things, those awesome and amazing things that I know are coming into my life explode and everyone is looking at me differently I'm not going to rub it in these people's faces or be really rude about it. I am just going to look them in the face and say:

Oh, I'm sorry. Can you see me now?




-Vicktor Aleksandr B

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Happy Father's Day Dad!



I used to hate celebrating Father's Day.

Sue me, but growing up with the biological father that I had I didn't think that there should be a day where I had to honor him for being a deuschebag and an asshole. I would look for cards that didn't lie, no "Thank you for being the world's greatest father!" cards here. I looked for cards that said what a good father was but that never stated that the receiver of the card met the criteria (sneaky and wrong I know, I am all about the subversive). I hated spending my money on gifts that neither he nor my stepfather deserved, but every year I did it because it was expected of me and because I cared what people said about me and didn't want to appear cold-hearted and cruel. Regardless of how true that assessment of my character may be.

After Christopher and Vivianna died I hated Father's Day because it reminded me of what I lost as well as making me feel all alone. So when June rolls around I usually start to go into "Vic Hibernation" because the summer is hard for me. Father's Day, the anniversary of Christopher's death and the anniversary of the day that I lost Vivianna.

This year Father's Day is different for me. This year, and every year following, I get to honor an amazing man, someone who deserves one of those "World's Greatest Father" cards, Aleksandr Voinov, my Dad.

He didn't hesitate (or call me crazy) when I mumbled out a request for him to be my father and then hid myself away waiting for his response. It wasn't just lip service to him. He stepped up to the plate and took on the role with the same determination and fierce intensity that he uses to write, tackle major issues, and fight against trolls. He cares about me, asks about my well-being, actually reads the long ass emails that I send him almost every other week... Best of all, he calls me his son with no hesitation. Claims me publicly and tells others how happy and proud he is of me.

I constantly feel humbled by the fact that he's my father. That I get to call him Dad and he calls me son. That he cares about me enough to redirect me when I'm headed in the wrong direction without judgement. That he listens to me rant and offers advice and always, always offers encouragement and care. That he is always on my side and that he is fierce in his role as my father. That he didn't hesitate to accept and embrace Chipmunk when I told him about her and cares about her and treats her with kindness and care, just like a grandfather should (sorry about the whole you being a great-grandfather thing at such a young age there Dad). All these things make my Dad amazing, one of a kind and uber special. For someone like me who spent years of his life praying to YHVH to kill his biological father just to be free of the pain, torture, heartbreak and grief of having the man in my life, it's nice to have a father that I can and do thank YHVH for.

So happy Father's Day Dad. I hope your day is beyond fantastic and that I can be and will be just as caring and awesome with my own children as you are with me.

Love you!

Your Son,

Vicktor Aleksandr B

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Book I Loved: Who We Are by TJ Klune


Who We Are (Bear, Otter, and the Kid #2)Who We Are by TJ Klune
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Hilariously funny. Bear is still angsty. Otter is still gorgeous. And Kid is still the Kid.

This book is perfect for a good laugh, actually it's perfect for a raucous, make everyone look at you like you're crazy because you're laughing out loud and saying "gravy lube" kind of laugh.

We meet back up with Bear (Derrick), Otter (Oliver) and the Kid (Tyson) after they've moved into the Green Monstrosity, a home that would be absolutely perfect for them if the outside wasn't painted a horrific green color. Although, in keeping with the flow of the life of the Thompson/McKenna clan, that glaring imperfection just makes the house perfect for the new family.

I loved the ebb and flow of the story. Just when I would start to get comfortable with the way things were going for the boys, something would jump up and smack me in the face (cue Isaiah).

The best part of the story was definitely all of the truths that Bear comes to realize, the subtle nuances that shape his life and the acceptance that he comes to embrace. The acceptance from others and the acceptance of himself. I loved the way that while Bear grew, while he and the Kid got better, TJ didn't make that growth and change unrealistic.

And it had an epilogue! Pet the Epilogue Whore because he was purring with happiness as well.

Yes there were glitches in the system, there always is, a word or two missing here and there, but they don't detract from the story. Bear's angst is both engaging and annoying, just like it would be in real life (we all know an angsty person and you love them and sometimes you want to tell them to shut the hell up. The best part is with Bear, whenever you want him to shut up you can simply close the book, turn off the ereader and the angst stops.), the best thing is that it's the story, the characters that linger, that stay behind and cling to your heart even when the story is over.

The thing that made my eye twitch? "The fight for you is all I've ever known." yes Otter, yes Bear we get it, you were destined to be. That line is definitely said more than once and though it made my eye twitchy, it still didn't make me stop reading. Why? Because I know that's real. There are people who have things, phrases that they use all the time, in reference to their significant other or to life in general. There are people who obsess over and focus in one one thing and never let it go. It's true to form which is why I kept reading even when I'd read that line for the third time.

The hilariousness never ended. I laughed almost the entire way through and even when TJ did the rug pull maneuver I was shocked, broken hearted and yes, a little miffed by what happened, but the underlying joy, happiness, the perfectly imperfect feel of the story, of the characters kept me so enthralled with this story, so connected, that when the book ended I sighed with happiness. The sigh of a happy reader. The sigh of satisfaction. Which is what I was at the conclusion of this story.

And the delicious way that TJ ended the book, with that lovely worm out there just waiting to be captured by the gigantic beautiful fish of another story was more than enough to make this reader give this book a 5 out of 5 star rating.


View all my reviews

Monday, June 11, 2012

Why Angel is Still My Friend (More Conversations With Angel)

I put up some of this on Facebook, but I'm pasting the entire conversation between Angel and I here on the blog because it's a fracking hilarious conversation that had me laughing out loud.

Literally.

Angel: What are you going to get your dad for Father's Day? 
Me: Are we talking about my dad dad or my adopted dad? 
Angel: Your dad. 
Me: Umm...who? 
Angel: I thought you only had one dad. The other guy is your sperm donor, but you only have one dad. He was just waiting for you. 
Me: Aww, that's kinda sweet man. 
Angel: Shut the hell up, what are you buying the man. 
Me: Wait... what? 
Angel: (groans) God you are so slow sometimes, you need to stop smoking the pipe. 
Me: (laughing) 
Angel: See? 
Me: Seriously though, I have no idea. 
Angel: Because you're slow. I don't know why I hang out with you. 
Me: 12 by 2. 
Angel: Oh yeah.
Me: It's why they all stay.
Angel: Not all of them.
Me: The smart ones.
Angel: Right. Like....
Me: Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
Angel: What?! I'm just saying, I'm really the only friend that you have.
Me: Nuh-uh!
Angel: I'm not talking about those women who are your friend because you're the hot gay black guy or because they secretly hope to get you drunk one night and try to turn you straight. I'm talking about those of us who are your friends in spite of you being gay.
Me: Yeah, so I have....
Angel: Oh, (fake sob) This is so sad.
Me: What?
Angel: This moment when you realize that you have no friends.
Me: Ass. Hole.
Angel: You. Want. It.
Me: Eeewww! Gross.
Angel: (laughs) I just know that this is going to show up on your blog.
Me: (chuckles) Oh yeah? How do you know that?
Angel: Because I'm interesting and you're desperate.
Me: (gasps) Desperate for what pendejo?
Angel: (giggles) Friends.
Me: (groans) You have so got to let that go. I have friends.
Angel: No you don't.
Me: Yes I do.
Angel: No, you really don't.
Me: Yes, I really do.
Angel: (sighs) Fine you have friends.
Me: Thank you.
Angel: But they're all still your friends for the same reason as me
Me: My scintillating wit and sense of humor?
Angel: Your big ass cock, bubble butt, big juicy lips and that deep ass voice that makes a person want to cum just hearing it.
Me: (choking)
Angel: Yep, that's what we all want to do.
Me: (gags)
Angel: And that
Me: Gods, just stop. Please, just stop.
Angel: (laughing) Now, back to our original conversation.
Me: We were having a conversation?
Angel: Yes, now... what are you getting your dad for Father's Day?
Me: I don't know... me? A story I wrote just for him? An all expense paid to the imagination island of his dreams??
Angel: Cheap. Ass.
Me: And you still can't afford it.
Angel: Good one.
Me: It's why you love me.
Angel: Nope, that would be
Me: (interrupting) I know, I know.
Angel: I'm just saying, you could make a fortune just letting people pay to see it.
Me: What is with you today?
Angel: I'm trying to figure out what to get James's father for Father's Day.
Me: So you're talking about my dick?
Angel: It is the gift that keeps on giving.
Me: Dumbass.
Angel: So... what are you getting your dad for Father's Day?

Funnies For Murphy Final

From Funny or Die Online: Mitt Romney's email account:

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More Funnies For Murphy











Sunday, June 10, 2012

Are You A Criminal? (Some Funnies for Murphy)

This is for my friend Murphy who needs a good laugh. I "borrowed" this from the Stormy Glenn group that I'm a part of.

Okay, so I lifted it. but none of this is anything that I wrote or created on my own. The asides also belong to Stormy.



Anywhere in the U.S., it's illegal to use any live endangered species, excepting insects, in public or private sexual displays, shows or exhibits depicting cross-species sex. (Insectophiles apparently were successful in their lobbying efforts.)

Alabama: sex toys are banned.
Ancient law in Alabama bans men from attempting to seduce "a chaste woman by means of temptation, arts, deception, flattery or a promise of marriage."
Anniston, Alabama: If a woman loses a game of pool, it is illegal for her to settle her tab with sex.
Arizona: perfectly all right for women to go topless in public, since breasts weren't deemed private parts.
In Bakersfield, California, anyone having intercourse with Satan must use a condom. (An asbestos one we presume.)
Cottonwood, Arizona: Couples having sex in a vehicle with flat wheels will be fined. The fine will be doubled if the sex occurs in the backseat.
California: illegal for either partner to reach climax before the other during foreplay
Connecticut: forbidding any "private sexual behavior between consenting adults."
Florida: two people cannot commit "unusual acts" together. Illegal to have sexual relations with a porcupine. It an offense to shower in the nude.
Georgia: sexual intercourse between unmarried couples is illegal
Idaho: not allowed to engage in any type of public display of affection for more than 18 min.
It's safe to make love while parked in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. Police officers aren't allowed to walk up and knock on the window. Any suspicious officer who thinks that sex is taking place must drive up from behind, honk his horn three times and wait approximately two minutes before getting out of his car to investigate.
Oblong, Illinois: It's punishable by law to have sex while hunting or fishing on your wedding day. A state law in Illinois mandates that all bachelors should be called master, not mister, when addressed by their female counterparts.
Indiana: oral sex is banned
Iowa: -5 min. time limit to make out.
Warn your hubby that after lovemaking in Ames, Iowa, he isn't allowed to take more than three gulps of beer while lying in bed with you -- or holding you in his arms.
Kentucky: can't marry the same man three times in some Kentucky townships
Louisiana: you can streak as long as you can prove to a court beyond a doubt that you had no "lascivious intent."
Maryland: it's illegal to smooch for more than 1 sec [yes, 1 second] in Halethorpe
Michigan: -male drivers in Detroit are banned from "ogling" women. Illegal to serenade your girlfriend in Kalamazoo
Minnesota: sleeping naked is illegal. Illegal for men to have intimate sexual relationships with a live fish [although women, it's perfectly legal]No man is allowed to make love to his wife with the smell of garlic, onions, or sardines on his breath in Alexandria, Minnesota. If his wife so requests, law mandates that he must brush his teeth.
Mississippi: men cannot become sexually aroused in public.
In Merryville, Missouri, women are prohibited from wearing corsets because "the privilege of admiring the curvaceous, unencumbered body of a young woman should not be denied to the normal, red-blooded American male."
Bozeman, Montana: All sexual activity between members of the opposite sex in the front yard of a home after sundown is illegal — if they're nude.
A law in Helena, Montana, mandates that a woman can't dance on a table in a saloon or bar unless she has on at least three pounds, two ounces of clothing. (Ouch! These pasties hurt!)
The owner of every hotel in Hastings, Nebraska, is required to provide each guest with a clean and pressed nightshirt. No couple, even if they are married, may sleep together in the nude. Nor may they have sex unless they are wearing one of these clean, white cotton nightshirts.
Lovers in Liberty Corner, New Jersey, should avoid satisfying their lustful urges in a parked car. If the horn accidentally sounds while they are frolicking behind the wheel, the couple can face a jail term.
New Mexico: couples in Carlsbad can have sex in their parked car during their lunch break, as long as the curtains are drawn.
Nevada: if you're a member of the Nevada legislature, you cannot conduct business, while in session, wearing a penis costume
New York: -women cannot be seen wearing "body hugging clothing." Women can go topless in public, unless it is for "business" reasons
North Carolina: -it's an offense to have sex in a graveyard
-If you're unmarried and you and your lover register yourselves as a "Mr. and Mrs." when checking into a motel, then you're legally considered husband and wife[bigamy, polygamy, the potential criminal consequences are endless]
Ohio: anal intercourse is banned in Cincinnati.
Women aren't allowed to wear patent-leather shoes in Cleveland, Ohio - a man might see the reflection of something "he oughtn't!"
Oxford, Ohio: It's illegal for a woman to strip off her clothing while standing in front of a man's picture.
Oregon: husbands in Willowdale can are fined for talking dirty during intercourse, but their wives can say whatever they please
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania: It is illegal to have sex with a truck driver in a tollbooth.
In hotels in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, every room is required to have twin beds. And the beds must always be a minimum of two feet apart when a couple rents a room for only one night. And it's illegal to make love on the floor between the beds!
Tennessee: women in Dyersburg cannot call a man for a date
Texas: flirting is banned in San Antonio
Utah: Sex with an animal — unless performed for profit — is not considered sodomy and therefore is legal.
Tremonton, Utah: No woman is allowed to have sex with a man while riding in an ambulance. In addition to normal charges, the woman's name will be published in the local newspaper. Um... discrimination, anyone?
In Romboch, Virginia, it is illegal to engage in sexual activity with the lights on.
Washington, D.C.: sexual positions beyond missionary are illegal
Washington State: sex with an animal is perfectly legal for men, as long as the animal weighs less than 40 pounds
Wisconsin: illegal for a man to fire his gun in Connersville, when his lover reaches climax
Connorsville, Wisconsin: It's against the law for a man to shoot off a gun when his female partner has an orgasm.
Newcastle, Wyoming: Couples are banned from having sex while standing inside a store's walk-in meat freezer.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Don't forget the C and don't forget the K

No, you dirty minded people I'm not talking about the c and k in dick or cock, geesh. I'm talking about the C and K in my name Vicktor.

You know: V-I-C-K-T-O-R

I must admit the I have a hearty chuckle when people write my name because everyone ends up forgetting either the C or the K. I have seen my name as Victor and as Viktor. Very rarely do I see Vicktor.

And no, it's not a big deal. I'm not going to rip my clothes, poor ashes on my head and wail like the Jews of old, although there are some who still do that.

I'm going to help you all remember how to spell my name correctly and then let you know why it's so important to me.

But not in that order.

When I was a kid I was taller than all of the other kids and I was very into sports. I'm still very into sports, but now it's acceptable. When you're 10 years old and you write a riveting essay on why the Chicago Bulls needs  a better blocking strategy if they plan on keeping Michael Jordan, when the teacher tells you to write about modern battle strategies, well then it's a bit of a problem. I was so into sports as a kid that my friends gave me nicknames that were familiar of sports figures. I'd get called "Babe" and people thought it was a term of endearment, but coming from my 6th grade boyfriend Jordy it stood for "Babe Ruth" (I totally give a nod to Jordy in my LiAW story, Steamy, he'd be sufficiently horrified). In the 7th grade people started calling me "Shaq" and I encouraged them to do so, because I was a beast with a basketball in my hand and my free throws sucked ass. I'm much better now, but back then I sucked.

In high school Justin was the first one to call me Vic. While everyone else called me Vee or Vee-Vee or hell even Roni, Justin and Angel called me Vic. So being Vic is very special to me.

The K in Vicktor comes from Kaph or Kaf the Hebrew letter ×šּ. It means "like" or "as" and since my middle name is Aleksandr, like my dad's first name, I'm Victor "like" Aleksandr.

Get it?

Well it makes sense to me. LOL. Anyway, I asked my goddaughter, Monkey (not her real name, but her nickname from me) and my friend Angel to write up an acronym for my name and this is what they sent me.

Monkey
V-Very nice
I-Intelligent
C-Cool
K-Kind
T-Tall
O-Organized
R-Reader

And here's Angel's notice the EXTREME difference:

Angel
V-Vivacious
I-Intriguing
C-Cock
K-Kinky
T-Teasing
O-Oh my God your cock is huge!
R-Rimming

*Headdesk* I need to stop asking him to do stuff for me. LOL.

There you have it, so now you can remember how to spell my name: V-I-C-K-T-O-R

When in doubt just think of Dick, with a V and Tor like Thor without the H. LOL.

-Vicktor Aleksandr B

Thursday, June 7, 2012

My Yahoo Group and Why I Have One

So, okay, I'm not like Carol Lynne or Gabrielle Evans or Brenda Jackson, I'm definitely not Ethan Day or Damon Suede, I'm me, Vicktor Aleksandr B, aka Vicktor Alexander. I'm an author, yes, this is true. I've got four books out and I love what I do (you know when I can write), I love making covers and I love writing stories about men falling in love and have lots of sticky, steamy, hot, mansex. It's fun. It makes me happy and I love the fact that I get to share it with others.

I don't like the backlash that I've gotten, however.

On an almost daily basis I get emails, comments on my blogs that are hateful, hurtful, spiteful, threatening and it puts me into a bad headspace.

I know what you're thinking, "Vic, you don't have to make a Yahoo group, just block them."

I've done this. But it's very easy to create a new email address and since I don't want to miss emails from actual readers, I continue to check my Vicktor Alexander account and read the emails there. It's a definite cache-22. At least I thought it was.

One of my sisters, Cherie Noel, suggested that I start a Yahoo group and direct the readers there. That way they could still ask their questions, talk to me about the books that I've already written and are writing, but I'll be protected because the group will be moderated and open, so the ones who hide behind anonymity in an email won't be able to do so in a group because there will be others around. I thought it was brilliant, but I hesitated.

I'd thought of starting a Yahoo group right after A Very Tate Christmas came out, but I had someone tell me that I didn't have enough books out and I wasn't popular enough (yet) to have a group. I didn't make one then but I knew that someday I would have a Yahoo group. Not just because I wanted one, but because I could see how popular the Tate Pack was and I knew that at some point I would need to have a group where Team Tommy could meet up with Team Michael and Team Maurice could meet up with Team Alex and Team Richard could oversee it all. I was aware that this was inevitable, but I held off on it.

I've decided not to hold off on it anymore. For the safety of my mind and characters, for the readers, I have a Vicktor Alexander Yahoo group.

The best thing about my name is that when I typed in Vicktor Alexander, there were no copies out there, which just makes me happy.

Anyway, I have a Yahoo group and it's for those who want to talk with me. I'm closing down my email addresses, except my Yahoo one, and everyone will be redirected to the group. It's what's best for Vicktor Aleksandr B and ultimately what's best for VAB is what's best for Vicktor Alexander.

So I encourage you to come by, join the group, look around and settle in. I do think we're going to have a fabulously good time.

Here's the link for the group:  Vicktor Alexander Yahoo Group

-Vicktor Aleksandr B

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Vicktor: The Brat, The Pessimist, The Jerk & The World Changer


Vicktor: The Brat
I know that this may come as a shock to some of you, maybe not all of you, but some of you, but I can be a brat. I mean like a big time brat. Oh I don't go around snatching things out of people's hands and yelling "MINE" (I used to do that with an old boyfriend, but I grew out of that phase) but I do tend to be very stubborn about certain things. To the point where I will dig my heels in about something and then forget why I dug my heels in but won't pull my feet out.
Case in point:
I have a friend, a really good friend, someone who has helped me get through a lot, whom I barely even talk to anymore. Why? I felt like they weren't appreciating me. Not because they were (maybe) or not because they were doing it on purpose, but because I felt like the bulk of our relationship was all about me doing for them. Always making sure that they were happy, never letting any of the bad shit of my life touch them, complimenting them all the time, offering support, but when it came time for them to return the favor they always had an excuse. Was I justified in feeling unappreciated? Probably. But weeks have gone by and my silence or rather my pulling back in the relationship has brought no change at all and I doubt that my friend even realizes what's going on.
I'm being a brat. I know this. "You're not my friend anymore because you always want me to come to your house but you never come to mine."
I'm 28 years old, much too old to take that kind of stance and yet I do, I did, and I've talked about it with Brandi and I was shocked by her response.
"Vic, this is just like the other relationship we talked about. You deserve to have someone be there for you just like you're there for them. A relationship is often lop-sided, but it shouldn't be to the point where you're doing all of the giving and none of the receiving. You're not wrong to feel the way that you do. You do need to understand that people can't change if you don't let them know that they need to change, but you're justified in feeling that they need to."
So, I have to not be a brat when it comes to my friends and family members, let them know when they do something that hurts, offends or angers me so that they know not to do it again. Then I have to pull on my Big Boy pants and not sulk about the whole thing.

Vicktor: The Pessimist
I am usually very optimistic. Like 95% of the time I see the silver lining, the glass half full, the rainbow in the storm (*snorts* Rainbow)...but there are times, 5% of the time, when all I see is the dark cloud, the half empty glass, and the fucking tornado and rains.
There are times when all I see is darkness.
When those times come, I'm very pessimistic. It's when I start to withdraw, when I need my isolation, when I start to look at everyone as if they will hurt me, use me, betray me, stab me in the back, throw me underneath the bus, leave me, talk about me behind my back or toss me aside. Those times are a lot fewer than they used to be and I don't often share them with everyone around me, but I have them. When I'm in my pessimistic mode that's when the thoughts of "I'm ugly," "I'm worthless," "I'm a mistake," "No one will ever love me," "I'm a freak," "I should have never been born," "I'm a failure," "I'm a horrible writer," "I'm an asshole" start to swirl around in my head.
Before I started seeing Brandi, the way I dealt with those thoughts was by drinking, or finding some hot guy and fucking him unconscious. When I was a teenager it was by getting high on something. When I was in Seminary, it was usually by taking a trip up to the dorms and having sex with someone (usually Bruce or Timothy, sometimes both of them simultaneously). Now when those thoughts come I can't write. So I read something or watch TV or I sit and let the thoughts fill up my head and then go and smoke a few cigarettes. I'm working on these thoughts slowly with Brandi, but it's a slow process of course, because of where the thoughts are rooted in and where they come from, but it's at least moving forward.

Vicktor: The Jerk
I can be a jerk. Especially when I'm sick. I can get very particular about certain things. I have moments where I'm an extreme perfectionist. There are times when I'm inflexible about anything to do with my life. "What do you mean you want another chance? Are you kidding me? I already told you what the problem was. I told you that I was going to work on me and you were supposed to be working on you. You didn't? You thought that I was going to just let you slide on everything? Wrong! No more chances for you. It's over."
And I'll say it just like that. I can be a jerk when it comes to someone hurting someone that I love. Someone being racist, homophobic, transphobic, etc. I'm not often a jerk and I'm sure that there are those who would argue with me about me being a jerk, but I know that I can be one.
I know that the world is filled with shades of grey. Hell, I know that the world is filled with color and everything is not black or white, but there are times when my brain is stuck on the black or white switch and that switch is un-bendable. Those are the times when I have a hard time listening to someone tell me that maybe the situation is a gray situation or a yellow situation. These times are when I get my reputation for being an evil bastard. They are few, but they are memorable.

Vicktor: The World Changer
With all of those things though, I want to change the world. Acknowledging my flaws has never been a problem for me, embracing my strengths and recognizing the good in me, the great in me, the awesome in me, that's where I get hung up a lot of the time. I know that I was born, created, to change the world for the better. It's been my focus, my goal, my dream, since I was five years old and I sang my first gospel song in front of a congregation of 12,000 people and then when I was done told them all to be happy and be good. I want that for the world. For everyone to be happy and be good. So I strive towards that end. I am single-minded in my focus. Everything I do ultimately comes back to "How will this help me change the world?" My group home (which still has no name) is one way. The charity project I have in mine (Every Man Organization) is another way. The business I've started with my sister that I want to expand and grow so that it can fund the charity projects is another way. The home program that I came up with (Least of These Housing Program) is another way. I sat down and made calls to non-profits, contractors, bank managers. I calculated, planned out and strategized everything that I'd need to do, how much money I'd need, to see my dreams become a reality. I am determined to change the world.
Because of that I'm a brat and a pessimist and a jerk. Why? Because I'm flawed, I'm not perfect and I want people in my life who can see that. Who know that and are willing, determined to stand beside me regardless. People who believe in my dream of changing the world and want to stand there with me when I do it. Acquaintances are fine. Friends of mine have to be warriors. Warriors go racing into battle, they know that they are going to be hurt, cut, wounded, but they do it for the good of their people, of their world. Much like the soldiers of today, the warriors of old were fearless, determined, focused. They wanted peace for their people, equal rights. No, they weren't all like that, and yes, much of the leadership throughout history was corrupt or selfish and had ulterior motives, but the altruistic mindset of a warrior, of a soldier, remains steady, tried and true.
I have been called a warrior my whole life. "A pitbull for equal rights and justice." I wear those mantles with pride. I can't have people on my team who are so self-focused that they can't take a stand for others. I'm not made that way, I don't think I'd want to be. I take care of myself because I want to take care of others. I do for myself so that I can do for others. That's not the mindset of everyone, but it is the mindset of me.

So yes, I'm a brat, a pessimist, a jerk, some of my exes may call me an asshole, I'm intimidating, I'm focused, determined, I'm a warrior, a pitbull. I'm a world-changer. I'm Vicktor and I make no apologies for that.


-Vicktor Aleksandr B

Monday, June 4, 2012

Buffalo Gay Pride Parade 2012


I went to my first ever Gay Pride Parade here in Buffalo, NY yesterday. It was fun, there were a ton of hot guys and I walked away from the event with the numbers of six very hot guys. I can't share everything with you, but I figured that I could at least share the parade. Enjoy!

-Vicktor Aleksandr B

I got his number. He's totally hot and look at that ass. Yummy!