Call me a chamaeleon if you will, or perhaps the Pokemon "Ditto", but my blogging style has evolved over the years. I know I have flip flopped all over the place in terms of how I structure a specific post (you call it indecisiveness, I call it versatility). Also I seem to have become extremely long-winded during this aging process. But in terms of actual content, I have exerted an extreme amount of extra effort to not post about "who I hung out with today" or "every-other-detail-that-never-needs-to-see-the-light-of-blog-day", along with amazing alliterations and allusions to all things pop-culture.

For better or worse, the years have taken a toll, and my hard-liner stance has eroded into a softer style. And because I fully believe that sharing is caring, let the sharing commence forth hither (if the use of these words in combination with each other are very offensive to you, feel free to go away now).

Tonight, I met up with a dear old friend of mine, gosh I must've known her for forever, as FAR back as I can remember, all way back in ... high school.

My memory is as short as a certain ex-housemate of mine. About 5 feet, on a good day.

Of course, when meeting up with long-lost friends that you have not seen for a few years, other than a few small encounters that included a "Hi" and a "We'll catch up sometime", one must prepare for the inevitable trading of five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred questions, prying into every small nook and cranny of the other person's life.

And there's always that one nagging question that comes up, the one that causes everyone to beat around the bush, searching for that elusive "right time", because it is slightly embarassing and may alter the course of the friendship forever.

Tonight, I was asked that question.

Jokingly of course, and I took no offense. But I know y'all will find it plenty amusing.

"Buttug, are you gay?" (names have been changed to protect the innocent me)

NOT A GOOD LOOK.

Apparantly I couldn't stop gushing about how great it was to live with four guys that bonded pretty quickly and how we had our spats but in two years we never had a major falling out, coupled with a lot of late night talks and how we supported one another through hard times with hugging and the occasional hair-stroking that NEVER HAPPENED, and how we could spend all the lazy afternoons together just kickin it, and even if there was a silence, it would be one of those "good" silences and not an "awkward" one, signifying the comfortability around one another, and how we will be friends forever and how we were perfect for each other and everything else mushy.

Stop me. Please.

Hence, forthwith, the phrase "No Brokeback" will now be used regularly and spectacularly here at Stupefying Stupidity.

Pretty self-explanatory, but just for refernece, it'd probably go a little something like this.

"Hey everybody minus you, go check out that Lupe Fiasco - I Gotcha joint because it's hot. I LOVE that Lupe Fiasco. Ahem. No Brokeback."

You have just been edumacated.