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Chris Starr

The Life of Chris Starr: We all have mentors to follow, some bad, some good. However, it seems that we actually learn a lot more from the bad boys. Mr. Starr has survived nearly three decades of this homo world and, in that time, a lot has changed for the "queer vato." He's done every scene, every club, and possibly every form of substance available - some we can't even name on these pages! But, when you're from the streets like he is, you learn from one another and that's why his presence graces these pages: so that veteranos like him can share their experiences with the new generation of "jotos locos" out there.

The ABC's of Ex-boyfriends

Hey Vatos Locos out there-how you hanging in there? Good, I hope! Just thought I'd drop a few lines down on the mirror to introduce myself. My name is Christopher Starr, and hopefully, I'll be bringing you some words of wisdom through experience to touch up your bi-monthly education. I just got out of a six-year relationship, and boy, I'm beat!.. (no pun intended).

When I first met him, it was love at first sight, or so I thought. I was just 21 at the time and thought I knew everything a boy needed to know to keep his man. Aaahhee...was I wrong! Remember when you were at the age where you were the big "hombre"? Remember that first love experience? Well, where is he now, Goddammit!? For those of you who still have him, I do indeed congratulate you. But for those poor souls who don't even know where he is, or let alone don't even care, can't you see it as one of life's biggest and most tragic lessons to learn? I'm sure there were many sleepless nights that we stayed awake, wondering where he was and with whom he might have been, (yes, you had your suspicions!). There were countless times you called him and there was no answer on his line! Of course, you always held him to his promise that, "He'd always be there for you!" You know what? @#!$&*! this! What it really comes down to in a relationship is TRUST!!..¡¿Que No?! Yeah, the big "T" word, not the big "D" word that we all sizeably hoped and dreamt of (or at least for some of us did). Man, I've learned my lesson-whether I like'd it or not. But don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter, just a little wiser and I'm here to share my widom with you!

A "comadre" of mine and I were kicking it at home one lonely Saturday night talking about our ex's and ¿Sabes Que? We found out we had a lot of tidbits in common about our men. We decided to write an alphabetical list of things that we had in common with each of our hombres and came to the conclusion that all men are dogs! Many of us out there can relate, and others will simply chuckle it off. Ex's aren't to be hated if you really think about it! They may have screwed with our heads, minds, hearts, etc... but remember we are their ex's, too. And they just might be feeling and saying the same things about us to their "comadres". If you'd like to interject to my list or ask me any questions about past, present and future issues, feel free to write me or send me an e-mail at qvmagazine@aol.com. Take care of yourselves and each other. Peace and Love... -Mr. Starr.


A is for the automobile, which he doesn't own.

B is for BULLSHIT, which is what he was full of.

B is also for brain, which was located between his legs.

C is for the commitment that was never there.

D is for the dildo he didn't know I had.

D is also for "Damn the bad luck," which is what I have in Dating men.

E is for everything he said we'd do, everything he said he was, and everything he's not.

E is also for ego. His was bigger than what he had between his legs (and that ain't sayng much!).

F is for faithful, as long as there wasn't something or someone better to do.

F is also for the fucker that he was, and can we say "Freak?"

G is for GOD, the one he thought he was and wanted to be worshipped as.

G is also for the spot he could never find (guys have one, too!).

H is for laughter (HA! HA!) the last sound he heard from me as I was walking out the door.

I is for Impotent, which is what I told everyone he was.

I is also for the inbreeding that occured in his podunk family.

J is for jugular; the one I'd love to sever.

K is for Key, the one that made the lovely designs on his truck.

K is also for Kick in the balls which is what I'm gonna give him if I see him again.

L is for Love, in most cases, but exceptions have been made.

L is also for LOSER in this case, along with LUSH (he drank an awful lot).

M is for MAN. Has anyone been able to find a real one? Have you ever met one?

N is for the narcotics; he drove me past alcohol.

O is for the orgasm he could never get his dick up to get.

P is for PAYBACKS. Remember they are HELL!

Q is for queer. I sometimes wonder if he isn't.

R is for the hopeless romantic he said he was. He was half right. He was hopeless, not to mention worthless.

R is also for the ring that he couldn't afford and will never buy.

S is for the sugar they found in his gas tank.

S is also for satisfied, which he rarely made me feel.

T is for typical - typical little boy playing at being a man.

T is also for tight-ass since he never took me out (in the cheap sense of the word, because he wasn't "tight" otherwise).

U is for umbilical cord, which was never severed when his mother gave birth.

U is also for the ugly guy he is dating now.

V is for the voodoo doll I made of him. Pins are inserted of course (also see "S" for Santeria).

W is for wishful thinking, thinking he had a job, was smart, and not into his looks.

X is what he is to me now!

Y is for, "Why the hell did I ever get involved with him?"

Z is for the zoloft that I had to start taking.

 

"When life gives you lemons, mix 'em with vodka!" :{>


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