Carlsbad Flower Fields (over my diseased ridden body)

Good morning my babies! It’s going to be Easter weekend! Any plans?

This Sunday I plan to visit the Carlsbad Flower Fields.

That is of course if I don’t catch pneumonia and die.

I’m not a hypochondriac (you’re not a hypochondriac if you swear you only have one disease). But yes, dear ol’ Poppy is sick to his stomach. My joints ache like a 85 year-old arthritic woman with osteoporosis. My head is throbbing—and in a perfect tempo as well; I would probably join in with my tambourine if I don’t hurt when I move around. I’m retaining water. If I knew I wasn’t on my period I’d have think that.
But these are usually my regular symptoms of an incoming sickness. And I kind of like to be warned ahead of time because it would give me ample time to attempt to curb my sickness by downing many pills of vitamin C and other immuno-reinforcements.
Hopefully those reinforcements hold up. I really don’t want to be miserable when I go here!

(PS I think I might know the culprit of my misfortune)

St. Patrick's Day 2008

For St. Patrick's Day, Gay Henchman invited me over to his friend's house for a small family dinner. I think he and his friend are dating. Or they're boyfriends. Or their interests in each other are barely budding--but then again they're not lesbians. With the rather hazy boundaries of gay relationships nowadays they could just be really good friends. Or friends with benefits, a concept that I'm still finding incomprehensible.

Anyway his family was very lovely. They're not Irish by the way, just the type of family that grew up closely-knit. And although most of their kids are grown up, they do try to have as many get-togethers as time will allow them to. I'm sure they have their own family problems just like everyone else, but these sorts of events in themselves would deem them the exemplary American family. At least in my opinion. Usually modeled institutions from my perspective are constructed from the lacking of society now.
Anyway, they were also welcoming to newcomers such as myself. However when I told them that I am strictly sober, they looked at me as if I had a platypus suddenly appear on my shoulder. But they were accommodating as they served me green apple cider in a wine class--which was a very nice gesture. They just think now that at one point in my life I was a terrible drunkard, haha!

The dinner consisted of the "traditional" St. Patrick's meal: soda bread, leak and carrot, potatoes au gratin (French, but it was good nonetheless), and corned beef. But my complements to GH's friend's mother, whom so far had made the best soda bread and potato au gratin I have ever tasted. I failed though in trying to coax the secret ingredients out of her. For a woman who can hold her alcohol, she can hold her secrets!

Happy St. Patrick's Day.

The above comic was sent to me by Gay Henchman, which made me laugh outloud. Thank goodness I found him.

Tip of the Day: Applesauce instead of Butter

Tip of the Day:

Instead of using butter when baking muffins, cakes, and breads; you can use a 1:1 ratio of nonsweetened applesauce as a healthier alternative. Because applesauce contains no fat, it is not only a healthier alternative but you will get a more moist texture. Let me just warn you though that although applesauce does have the same baking effect as butter, it does take a longer time in the oven. So don't panic if you stick a toothpick in the middle of the bread and still get goo when it's already been in there for the suggested amount of time.

If you do however plan to use sweetened applesauce, you should halve the amount of sugar the recipe initially calls for because sweetened applesauce also contains almost a 1:1 ratio of apples to sugar. Unless you're a sweet tooth and you like your food to be as sweet as molases. (But when I think of molases, I think of boiled moles for some reason).

This healthy alternative is not intended for cookies or brownies as their consistency tends to be different from cakes, muffins, and breads. You can use this healthier alternative, don't get me wrong, but the end product you will get will be so moist that the square of brownie or the cookie will bend and break apart picked up. But if you prefer this kind of brownie/cookie as there are some out there in the bakeries, then by all means use it!

Mommy Likes Ladies

Dear Poppy,

My relationship between my mom and I have gotten better since I came out. Right now I even think of myself as the "the favorite son". But ever since then I'm beginning to feel awkward about her interest in women. She says things like "she's so cute" or I even catch her looking at women's tits. Is my mom a lesbian or does she think that since I'm gay that it's okay for her to be gay too? I don't know if I'd be able to handle that well.

Fruit of Her Loins


Dear ACTUAL Fruit of Her Loins,

Awww you're so adorable. So dear mother's checks out women and looks at the devil's dumblings, bazoombas, the milkshakes--you get my point. And you’re a little disheartened by that. So what? Gay Henchman and I check out women a lot. He not only perpetuates the gay stereotype by not only naming each brand but also each shade of color, but he also makes a quick assessment on her tit, ass, and legs. He reviews it like every other man planning to mate. And like every other man out there, her appearance is all he keeps on checking out. But is that enough to make denounce his love for men? No of course not.

So what if mommy is a lesbian? She can be used as evidence that gay is genetic. How is she any different from being a person? Did she give you trouble when you came out to her? If anything like you said the bonds between you two got stronger. You're not only slightly being hypocritical, but you're kinda setting the gay rights movement back a few decades by not acknowledging your mom's lesbian curiosities. She probably didn't have the luxury that you did to open up to her true feelings at a younger age. I mean being a lesbian can't be (and it isn't) wrong. After all you are gay so the moral issues isn't the case. Do you think that she might be stealing your spotlight, you diva?

If that is of course she is a budding lesbian.

Okay to explore the other side of the gamut, what if it was just an expression of accepting you? Although personally I doubt that, you do have the power to vocalize that. But don't go hurting your mother's feelings by saying "ew stop checking out girls, it's disgusting". She's human too. Put her in your position: how would you feel if someone was uncomfortable by the way you act? Not very good about yourself, huh? It seems though that you're not even sure what she's doing. Start with that. Be sneaky. Ask if momma likes what she sees. If she likes a lady's shoes or the brand of stockings, fabulous! If she likes to see those legs wrapped around her, fabulous! (Although I probably don't think you'd want a mental picture of that seeing that she's your mother). When (or if she ever, but I also doubt that) describes her affections for a woman, then be subtle: change the subject. She's a living breathing, human being capable of mating (just like you). It's not like she entangles you in the imagery of her actions.

You know you can't change these things. You'll still love your mother whatever she is.

Sincerely,
Poppy CU Montage


GIVE ME MORE WORK PLEASE!
(by responding or commenting):
Poppy_Montage@yahoo.com

Artist Pick of the Month: Chris Garneau

Gay Henchman came up to me sometime in late January and suggested that if I ever ran out of things to write, I could write about the music that I was into. He had noticed that I have a tendency to momentarily gravitate toward an artist and listen to them abusively until I grow tired and move onto different musical prospects. It was a great idea to write about my favorite artists of the month, however I don’t think my choices would count. You see, my babies, the singers that I tend to gravitate toward have one thing in common: they tend to die young. Just kidding—god I hope I just didn’t curse myself to become the killer of all young and budding artists with potential.

But here I am, without a thing to write about—actually I do, but I really think GH’s idea was really great.

So instead of me picking out the artist of this month, I figure that I have GH do the honors and find one for me. Apparently he began to anticipate that I was going to ask for assistance because the moment I came up to him, he had told me that he had “borrowed” my iPod and went ahead and uploaded this particular artist’s songs (more rather stole my purse for a couple of hours without my notice).

“He’s gorgeous!” exclaimed GH in a schoolgirl-like manner as he returned my purse. Granted that I do like to look at handsome men, I would be slightly reluctant to listen to someone’s recommendations for a musical artist simply because of a nice ass. That’s like saying that we should watch more of a porn star not of his ability to please, but for his PhD in Physics.

And so the artist excavation began. A Boston native, Chris Garneau moved to Brooklyn to play live music. His venues are small but often packed as one reviewer who went to go see a performance had said to me. The setting is very simple: a piano with a lampshade and a cellist who accompanies him a piano. Together they play a few songs in the dimly lit room, something that supports and amplifies the mood of his music.

His music is not for the perky and the sunshine-lollipops. The key theme of Garneau’s music is pessimistic and tragic—this comment is a complement. In slow tempo, most songs are in minor keys, giving it a more melancholy feel. Much of will directly remind me of Regina Spektor (her style of music, not her lyrical), Jeff Buckley, and Elliot Smith, who by the way he does an excellent cover of “Between the Bars”.

He succeeds in conjuring memories in ones head but in darker shades. His song “Relief” is an example. Although in an interview Garneau professes that the song gives a more positive attitude about coming across a former lover and no longer feeling jealous. Personally when looking at the lyrics and listening to the song one more time, I could not find the “no longer feeling jealous part”; in fact in my interpretation of the song is otherwise: jealousy still remains. GH’s interpretation of the song, much like many illiterate testosterone-induced men, is about a prostitute. I don’t know where he got that idea.

My favorite song of his is “Baby’s Romance”, perhaps the darkest of all his songs. Inspired by his own accounts, the song opens up as the baby being stolen away. Continually, you get the impression that for sometime now the baby is being manipulated or subjected to something he doesn’t want. This action is done clandestinely, away from the eyes of baby’s authority, leading me to believe that this form abuse was probably sexual. After sending GH to do further research on this song, he returned with only good tidings: I was right. But the song is not so abysmal. In fact the lyrics become more empowering for the baby as the song progresses. In there, he begins to show that the baby is capable of independent thoughts; the baby would rather sleep in a dilapidated cot than to sleep with his captor. Here, the baby’s mature and slightly resentful of his captor. This is ultimately resolving this manner by having to turn his captor in because, poignantly, “now fighting’s a part of baby’s romance”.

At least that’s my interpretation of it.

To conclude this short, but time-elongated article, Chris Garneau’s songs are intended to bring forth nostalgia, however in that he also manages to casts shadows of realism. But I think GH said it best when it came to this guy: “don’t ever listen to him while under the influence of anything; they’re potent enough to make you depressed if you misinterpret.”

Thoughts For Food! (coffee edition)

Coffee: The Other Morning Beer

Today my darlings, we travel far and wide to introduce to you this new segment I shall call “Thought for Food.” (at least for the meantime because even Momma Montage is not satisfied with the title—and Gay Henchman agrees; it’s clearly spawned from perfunctory creative juices….) This segment involves pretty much what the title means despite its lack of grammatical correctness: a very petite article on food. And for those of you who personally know Poppy, you all well know that Momma Montage LOVES to eat. That is why dear ol’ Papi Poppy can be found at your local gym suffering hours on end to shed off the undesired effects of happy and satiated taste buds. And to kill two birds with one stone, I hope that it answers your questions, Gay Henchman: so that my affinity for food doesn’t show… remind you of anyone?
So to kick of our segment, I would like to start with one of earth’s favorite beverages, the cup of joe, the other beer of the morning: coffee! Coffee is drank not just during the morning anymore, my sweetnesses. About 85% of this nation gets up in the morning to brew coffee before doing anything else—including emptying the bladder. This ink-coloured beverage is now drank after mealtimes, over both good and bad dates, hot or cold, with various syrups, and of course by every sleep-deprived college student trying to survive exam weeks. It is such a milestone in humanity that it has integrated itself with business. People drink coffee for breakfast. They are also expected to drink coffee during work. Coffee even has its own designated break for the working class—although in my opinion no one really gets coffee on their coffee break; usually they engage in gossip, or smoke, or drink the flask hidden in their file cabinets, or sexually harass their employees (remind you of anyone, GH?). In fact, the coffee business itself rakes in more than $22 billion annually in just coffee sales and not including sales of instant coffee, beans, and coffee makers!
And just like any beverage that is filled with diversity, coffee is a gastronomical art. Although there are about ten species of coffee plants worldwide used to make the beverage, it is also the process the beans undergo that expands its horizons to thousands of types and blends. One such particular coffee is valued over hundreds of dollars, only to find out that the bean must pass through the digestive lumen of a civet. So technically it would be actually a compliment if you say that it was “shitty coffee.”
But contrary to popular belief, coffee does not originate from Columbia. No, a coffee's ancestor doesn’t even come from a black panther or a rural traveler with a donkey caravan. In fact coffee comes from the Africa, particularly a small region bordering Ethiopia and Sudan. And to now put that long introduction on coffee to a close, I traveled far and wide (as said, but not really just to a Starbucks in Rowland Heights) to attend a coffee seminar on African coffee.
Hosting that seminar was one of Starbucks’ finest baristas and coffee connoisseurs, Monsieur Aaron Halopoff. He gave a brief lecture on the history of coffee and its processes and then presented three forms of different coffee from Africa: Kenya, Ethiopia Sidamo, and Arabian Mocha Sinani. They were paired off respectively with small complementary solid foods: orange raisin currant scone, lemon biscotti/ herbal lemon biscuit, and a dark chocolate.
We were given the Kenya blend first. Comparative to wine, coffee tasting involves the smell, taste, and texture but only to a different degree. For example the Kenya blend possesses an earthy and volcanic smell. It is still coffee mind you, but within that aroma sprouts a rather peculiar hint of fragrances: like dried orange peel or jasmine leaves (think the smell of tea leaves if you don’t know what I’m talking about). You swirl, then take it to your mouth and slurp (so that you don’t singe your whole mouth) and allow the flavors to sprits your taste buds lightly. Particularly the Kenya blend is rather soothing in my opinion. With its gentle yet acidic taste, this particular coffee is my preference and meant as a beverage of relaxation and escape (kinda like alcohol, only you won’t get arrested or you actually remember what you did after consuming copious amounts of it). It can be enjoyed after during streams of irrelevant conversations or after dinner when you want to reflect on the events of the day. Partnered with an orange raisin currant biscuit the taste evolves. In fact many emotions spring forth from the taste buds: joyful, serene, soothing. It’s a smooth aftertaste that softly radiates throughout your mouth.
Next is my personal least favorite blend, Ethiopia Sidamo. Although after discussing this with a coffee addict, this blend offers a rather bold and natural/floral flavor. The texture was smooth and sharp; unlike the other two coffee blends, this taste generated from the back of the mouth to the front. Yes it is bitter, but bitter is adored by others, just not by myself. In Poppy’s opinion this tasted like coffee stirred with twigs and pinecones.
But fret not, that eco-cacophony was not meant to insult this drink. This drink is something meant for a spontaneous change of the palate as this taste has an invading personality. When paired with the scone or biscotti, it personally regulated the intense lemony and herbal flavors. This beverage might actually go well after consuming bolder flavors such as peppery or acidic foods. Also this kind of flavor may be very well enjoyed with soft cheeses that have subtler flavors such as brie, formaggio, or Philadelphia cream.
The last coffee presented had the cleanest finish of the three. Granted, I also took delight in its electric flavor. This was not at all abrupt as the Ethiopia Sudamo blend nor was this blend as subtle and radiating as the first. This was the ambiguous coffee. This was the coffee with flavors that evoked mischief and childlike vivacity suggesting intention for motivation and deliberation. It’s the kind of blend one should suggest to drink on an actual coffee break, or to have on their side while reading a textbook or doing their taxes (although when your doing your taxes gin wouldn’t be a bad idea).
When paired with dark chocolate the two tastes become a rather animated affair. Initially coy and subtle in your mouth when the two enter your mouth, but when the dark chocolate melts from the heat of the coffee and amalgamates, it becomes a steamy dance full of guilt but leaving you yearning for more. It’s small surges of flavor erupting sporadically in your mouth. It was the best coupling and I cannot suggest a better complementary solid food.
I do hope that there are future coffee seminars such as this, perhaps exploring other blends from other parts of the world like Indonesia or Latin America. Perhaps to further bring forth the full potential flavors of the coffee, palate cleansers should be offered in between each taste (such as water or a piece of tangy fruit) so that the flavors of one coffee doesn’t overpower the other. At any case it’s quite a pleasant and enlightening experience.

Until next time,
Poppy CU Montage

Gay Henchman's response

Hahaha, Gay Henchman is disgusted by the last letter. I would have fired him for the intolreance, but he needs the job. Besides... it's hard breaking in another go-for guy. And I absolutely don't have the time to blackmail another into submission!

GH: Out of all the letters you recieved you got this?!
(he had a disgusted look on his face)

How to invade the gene pool

Dear Poppy

Just a few weeks ago my gay cousin that I had not seen in over 5 years moved back here from college from the east coast. And I feel guilty that I catch myself checking him out. To make matters worse I took him to the local gay hangouts to help him get socially situated but became jealous when he made a bunch of friends, especially a possible boyfriend. Poppy, is it wrong to feel this way for him?

Sincerely,
Gene Pool Invader

Dear Gene Pool Invader

Before our readers judge you and point fingers at you while simultaneously make fun of the square states, let’s clarify one thing: we all have that relative that makes us think twice about our cultural taboos. Sometimes we find it kinky, sometimes we find it funny (like that Friends episode where David Schwimmer’s character Ross hits on his cousin who was played by the hormone-inducing-actress Denise Richards) while other times we admonish ourselves in the fantasies. And sometimes you just hate them because they’re twice as good looking at you. I was just consoling my Gay Henchman for this the other day. I have seen GH’s family tree and let me tell you: the gene pool was a little contaminated when he was fished from it. But GH’s issues with looks is a different story, let’s say we move onto yours?
No I don’t think you should feel bad about liking your cousin. I think it’s admirable that you cross the taboo to even talk about it and give me permission to post it. Poppy Montage doesn’t like to judge and so I’d like to say once again that I don’t think you should feel bad about your attractions. Now that doesn’t mean that Poppy approves of incest—so don’t go calling the More (pronounced “moh-ray”) Police on me just yet.
Now to answer that part of the question: the jealous part is natural yes, but do keep in mind that you did that on your own. You shouldn’t keep him to yourself. He’s a grown man and needs social interaction just like any other diva. Would you like to play the part of the gay ogre? Besides you’ve got your own life to look forward to… unless of course you think you’re useless in this society, but that’s another letter you need to write to me. But be happy for him and for yourself.
And don’t be silly hun, what were you thinking? Those silly homos are naturally drawn to a social life just as they are drawn to a penis… let alone a gay bar! He’s a big boy. As much as he is probably thankful, he probably didn’t need your help. But good for you with helping your (to what I’m sure) your sexy cousin! Most of the jealous relatives usually get angry or thwart them. I recently came across a friend of mine who actually admitted to sabotaging her cousin’s moisturizer with feminine wash.

Ew.

Until then,
Poppy C.U. Montage

So You Want To Write To Poppy Eh?

So you want to put me to work, eh? It’s fine because quite frankly I really don’t have anything else better to do. You’re more than welcome! But I do have to let you know of a few ground rules before you write to me.

1) Privacy is respected whether you like it or not. I am so protective of your privacy that I won’t even open your emails around people. I try to value confidentiality issues of my readers/writers. Even when I go seek advice from others your identity shall be priority. So yes I will talk about your problems, but they will never know who it’s from.
2) You must have a sense of humor. Although my advice tends to be lengthy and chock full of information, I do not want to put you to sleep. So please don’t take my sarcasm/ passive aggression personal.
3) Not everyone’s questions will get posted. I’m only one person and there are A LOT of you. Poppy Montage also has a day job as well. However have no fear, I still will try to answer your letters.
4) If your post does get posted, you will be given a codename. This is decided by me of course… unless you choose one for yourself. But just to let you know, “BigcockXX” or “TittyJock” or any names within those lines are already taken… by me.
5) It’s a great idea to tell me a little about you. Your description may also give me information on how to come up with a solution to your problem. Ditto for when you give me a detailed explanation of your inquiry. But expect me to reply with more questions. I’m nosy that way.
6) Your inquiry will be edited. Yeah I know what you’re thinking “why give you so much information when it will be edited anyway?” Really, it’s just for space purposes….
7) Be patient. Poppy Montage has a day job (several in fact) and I will try to respond to your emails as soon as I can.

If you’re emailing me about sharing some tips and tricks on daily life, or places to go to in Los Angeles, the rules are a little different.

1) You will be credited for them. In other words, privacy doesn’t apply (unless you say so) because I think if you give me a good idea/place to eat I think you should receive credit for them. Unless of course I had a bad experience with the establishment, then we’ll talk more on this.
2) I will visit the establishment of interest as soon as I lose the pounds I have gained from the last recommended place or have acquired enough income to eat out. Don’t get offended when there is a different recommended place. That just means that it’s usually a place that was recommended to be by someone else once upon a time.
3) Tell me about you and the establishment. This will not get posted, but I would at least like to know how you found this place, what you usually do there, an estimated range of expense (Momma Montage doesn’t want to be doing the dishes… again!)

Oh and so write to me:
Poppy_Montage@yahoo.com

A Question on Straight Men

Lesbian Friend: Let me ask you something.

Gay Henchman: Go for it.

Lesbian Friend: Do straight guys ever grab each other there?

Gay Henchman: Yeah, all the time. Don't you remember {he mentioned many straight friends who were notorious for playing the penis game]

Lesbian Friend: But is it normal when one of them comes up to them, carresses it, and goes "haha made you hard!"

Gay Henchman: (laughs, when he told me about this, in the same manner that his lesbian friend did, I too responded with a hearty laugh) Um. No.

After sending my Gay Henchman to hunt his Lesbian Friend down to get permission to publish this I finally typed up a quick response.
Yes, heterosexual males do engage in homoerotic behavior--especially this anatomical rendition of "capture the flag". In fact it's something between a cross of showing affection that's masked with masculinity. Dogs do it when they're sniffing each other's buts. Atheletes do it when they're slapping each other's firm asses. Guys in the shower in the gym do it by congratulating each other's physique--oh no wait that's not one. But making a comment pertaining to an erection OR any sensual act that involving "stroking", "petting", or "carressing" is no longer homoerotic behavior. In fact it's entering softcore gay porn. It's also an automatic conviction to being a bicurious resident of homo-ville. So welcome, future flaming citizen!