What would you do?

Hopefully you can read the above image, otherwise you won't quite grasp this post. :)

Essentially what has occurred is that an employee decided to vent after a shitty day about their boss. Forgetting that said boss is one of their facebook friends and would read it. The boss took it to heart and appears to have fired them before their probationary period was up.

Why would anybody add their boss to their facebook?? Maybe it's just me, but as a 'boss', I keep a very professional line w/ my employees. We don't go out for drinks, we don't hit movies, and I certainly don't add them to facebook, twitter, or other such sites.

This may seem harsh, but it's a reality of the work. Do I really want to catch you in a lie? Say you call in sick and then I go on facebook and see pics of you drunk the night before. This creates a conflict. Cuz now I know you're a liar. Now if you had called and said 'Sorry, I'm hungover.' I could let it pass for a one off, but if it happens consistently...then u're gone.

Now I think that the boss is going overboard firing somebody. Especially, cuz it's obviously a vent. She can still call him a pervert, just cuz you're gay, doesn't mean you can't perv on girlies. Sure, it's not the nicest way to find that your employees are pissed with you, but it's also feedback. I've often wondered how my employees really feel about me, as you can ask for feedback, but people don't want to hurt your feelings.

Personally, if I was her boss, I'd delete her from facebook, bring them into the office, ask about their comment and then just go back to our normal routine.

What would you do in this situation, if you were the boss?

Once more, with feeling!

"People will forget what you said or what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." Maya Angelou

I came across this quote just now on twitter and it really struck me as the truth.

When I think about the times that I have been in love, I could never describe the reasons why. It was simply a strong feeling that I had towards that person.

When dealing with those who are negative, often times you forget what it was about them that caused that feeling, but you just can't shake it.

Have you ever encountered someone and just felt naturally happy in their presence? Or completely turned off?

Maybe it's getting back on track w/ yoga that's causing me to be more reflective or 2 days in a row seeing the ex's. ;) Or that I haven't felt love in a year and really want that feeling back.

What'd you think? Are you in tune with your feelings? Got a quote that you'd like to share?

Do You Know This Guy?

Do you know this guy? Apparently, he's from Toronto and this is him in front of Union Station. How do I know this? Because Tapthatguy.com told me so. Through the networking of twitter (follow me @jaystewart82), I was introduced to this site and I'm a tad uncomfortable with it.

Essentially, you take pics of guys who are unaware that you are taking it and then post it up on this site with the location of where it was taken. CREEPY!!!! Don't you think? All you want to do is hang out in a public space and not worry about such things happening.

But it brings up the notion that there really are no more private spaces. I was reading an article for school that spoke about the hundreds of millions of government dollars that has been given out for surveillance equipment post 9/11. The idea being that these cameras will see all and it'll prevent any sort of naughtiness. Mmmhmm.....right! Or it just allows security to watch us pick our noses, kiss loved one's, and generally lead boring mundane lives.

Pop stars (i.e. Beyonce) fall on stage, it's captured by all. Smoking a joint at a party (i.e. Michael Phelps), the whole word knows about it. Get into a little bare backing action (i.e. Dustin Lance Black) and Perez will blog it. When does it stop?

What'd you think? Should sites like Tapthatguy.com be allow to exist? Would you be upset if you found yourself on there? Does privacy exist at all?

Are you one of them?

Are you one of those people who, should you walk past anything that even harbors a remote glimmer of a reflection, turns to it to check yourself out? And thinks nobody even notices it?

Because I do. I am one of those people who notice you checking yourself out, you sick, twisted, vain piece of shit.

Also, because I am one of those people.

It's quite funny. I mean, I never really realized that I was doing it until I caught someone else doing it. We were walking down Robson St. and for an entire 6 blocks, this guy checked himself out in every reflection he could find. I mean, he wasn't horrible looking. Quite cute, nice set of calves and a nice back. And it was when I turned to check myself out as well that I realized, holy shit! I'm just like him.

I mean, I don't stare at my reflection and just fall in love with myself. I'm not that confident. I just like to make sure that my hair looks decent, that my face is covered up and that my outfit looks good. So, pretty much, I just want to make sure that every lie is in place because when you're a gay man, you can't afford to be honest. That comes later, after you've discovered whether or the man you just fucked has a trust big enough to stick around for.

BREATHE IN SOME VIOLET

Friday, July 31, 2009/Saturday, August 1, 2009

BREATHE IN SOME VIOLET

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

I used to play with dolls when I was a little boy.

They’re so sweet and colourful.

Lovely frilly clothes.

The kids laughed at me because of that.

“Philip should have been a girl,” they always said.

No thank you.

Who wants to worry about getting pregnant and having a period every month?

I’d rather just do occasional drag.

The best of both worlds.

Gulp down all the pills.

They’ll kill you and then no one will jeer, anymore.

I was only 13.

Thirteen and over-dosing!!

Can you believe it?!

My tummy full of aspirins,

Wondering what death would be like.

Scared.

Vomiting against my will.

Crying.

Carolyn coming down to see what was up.

Mom yelling because she’d been woken up.

That bitch always wanted to control everything.

He lived.

Another stomach full of pills when I was 21.

Plus LSD and a bottle of wine and a house plant.

Knocked it on the floor, you see.

Broke the deep green glass it was in,

Tumbling from the top of the toilet tank.

Mom mustn’t know.

So I ate the long, winding shoot with shiny emerald leaves

To get rid of the nasty evidence.

Blame it on the acid!

Oh, to grow up with confidence and acceptance.

Unconditional love and popularity.

Turning into a shamrock with anger and envy.

Ambulance meeting me around the corner

After calling a Suicide hotline.

To the hospital.

Puking in a bucket.

I’m alive.

Forget about these things.

“You’re not in high school, anymore,” a pretty strawberry blond guy once said to me,

Not so long ago.

The past colours the present.

Give me less blue and more yellow.

Give me same-sex parents and my own private island.

Purple morphs into mauve

Which becomes violet that turns into pale dusty pink.

The sunset is visible from my concrete balcony.

Every colour lilts into another.

The past imbues the present, as well.

Life goes on, no matter what happened before.

Breathe in every shade of experience.

Who wants to hear a sob story?

Yes, I’m still alive.

Dolls are so beautiful.

One stands regally gowned on a bookcase in my bachelor apartment.

Go ahead and laugh.

I enjoy Mika!

I enjoy Mika, I really do. He has an unique voice, writes playful songs, and has a great energy to him. It'd be nice, if he'd address his sexuality, but I guess it's one of those 'you know...but I ain't gonna admit it' kinda things.

I saw Mike in concert a few years back and my guy at the time and I spent the first few songs assuming that he was lip syncing. Cuz honestly, it sounded exactly like the cd. Everybody was thinking the same thing and we started to get really caught up. Then it hit 'Relax, Take It Easy' where he did this acapella introduction and everyone was just in awe. The reason why it sounded like the record was cuz Mika can fucking sing!!!

He's coming out with a new record and I want to share with you his awesome new song. It took me a few listens to get into, but now it's a definite summer fave (in a summer of few awesome songs). The video is pretty spaz-tastic and if he had chosen a fun pair boxers instead of boring white, it would've been even better. :)

Here it is for your enjoyment...

FOR JAMES AND MARILYN

Friday, July 31, 2009/Saturday, August 1, 2009

FOR JAMES AND MARILYN

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns

Don’t write about any Sixties movie stars.

People are complaining.

They’ve heard enough about that blonde who killed herself.

Don’t write about her, ever again.

Well, I couldn’t give a fuck about Madonna or Britney Spears.

Kim Novak, to me, is the epitome of feminine beauty.

The Sixties was a tumultuous decade.

No one over 35 needs to be told that.

The sex goddesses were the best, back then.

I don’t want to fuck them, mind you.

Lend me their gowns and jewels and furs.

I’ll put then on, plus a long blonde wig.

I’ll tromp on the red carpet.

Don’t want anyone to throw rotten tomatoes at me.

Wanna have some fun.

Make lots of money.

Be slim and gorgeous.

Have many sexy lovers.

I want what I want.

Just happy to have a roof over my head.

After all, so many of my people died in the Nineties.

I’m here, right now.

But I’m never, ever gonna write about that zoftig blonde, ever again.

The one who died at 36.

What was her name, again?

See, I’ve forgotten it, already.

Don’t remember any of her movies

Even though I’ve seen almost all of them.

He warned you.

You’re starting to write about her and you promised not to.

Try to pen a poem about flowers or something.

Petunias don’t grab me.

I want to write about sex.

Don’t you dare.

There are nice people in the audience.

Nice people don’t have sex except to make babies.

Good people never THINK about sex.

It’s only horny queer perverts, like me, who fantasize about copulation

And all those filthy things, like fellatio.

Stop that!

You’ll get a slap.

I’d rather you wrote about that movie star than rude, vile, filthy things.

Go out and look at the sunset.

It’s free and pretty.

Maybe you’ll get a Canada Council grant

If you write about the colours in a sunset.

No sex and no Marilyn.

Oh, no! You said it.

You wrote about her.

Shame on you.

Write about the sunset.

Do it right now.

Okay, shut up.

I promise I’ll never write about her, ever, ever, EVER, again.

And I mean it.

All right?

The colours in the sky at 9 pm are heavenly

On this glorious summer night.

And my heart went thump, thump, thump.

Are you happy, now?