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I read a lot of blogs, and I have met and befriended many other bloggers (even if we’ve never met in person). This is one of the best side effects that have come out of writing on this site regularly. Most of the people who I have befriended live out of state, or even in other countries.
I purposefully decided a few months ago to try and find some other gay bloggers in the area to read and explore the possibilities of making some new real life (as opposed to blog life) friends.
I found several sites that I enjoyed, including one by a guy living in San Francisco who is an artist and renovates houses and has a cool sense of humor. Another who writes about traveling between San Francisco and Phoenix and random things that happen to him in the city. They both write about hangouts that I have been to, and events that I also attended. I’m willing to bet that somewhere in their group of friends we know people in common.
I found a site by another guy in Arizona who was funny and relayed stories about his dysfunctional relationship with his younger boyfriend.
For a period of a couple of weeks I regularly left comments on almost all of their posts. I usually agreed with their point, or even complimented their writing style. You know, ice breakers to get them to either respond on their site, or visit my site and leave a comment. Anything to get a bit of dialogue started.
I got nothing. My comments were completely ignored. The blogger never came to my site and left a comment.
I added their sites to my blogroll, thinking that would maybe get some response.
Nope. Nothing.
Then I noticed something interesting. This group of seven or eight bloggers are all friends. They comment back and forth on each other’s blogs. They are on each other’s blogrolls. They started hosting podcasts featuring each other every week.
I had stumbled into the middle of a Gay Blog Clique, and I was clearly the lame fatty who was trying to buy one of them a drink. I’m the guy standing by myself at the bar wondering what the hell is so funny over there by the bathrooms.
I find it fascinating that not one of the guys in this group that share many qualities with myself could be persuaded to even offer up the slightest bit of acknowledgment of my existence. Almost as if they had held a conference call to discuss giving me the cold shoulder.
This past week, one of the bloggers who hosts a podcast announced his special guest for the week. This guest, let’s call him, Danny, is a quasi-celebrity gay guy that I know from Kansas City. Danny was part of an ensemble-cast reality show that was one of the first reality shows ever produced.
When his 15 minutes of fame were over, he returned to Kansas City and began dating a good friend of mine. And his already over-inflated ego ballooned to enormous proportions. He would enter The Cabaret with an entourage of no less than 10 hangers-on, commanded his legion to buy him drinks and keep the commoners away from him. He was tolerant of my presence only because of my friendship with his then boyfriend. I don’t think he ever bothered to learn my name. Eventually my friend could no longer afford to lavish him with gifts and Danny dumped him. My friend was devastated.
When I saw that Danny was going to be the featured guest on this week’s podcast, I left a comment that basically said “I knew Danny around 10 years ago and I sincerely hope that time has deflated Danny’s enormous ego. I’ll tune in just to find out.”
I got a response from one of the Clique members. The only one I have ever gotten. It said, “Fuck this shit.”
I listened to the podcast tonight. The featured Clique members came across as vapid, screeching queens. The only person in the conversation that sounded even remotely intelligent or well-spoken?
Danny.
I think he was even slightly uncomfortable with the conversation.
I’ve decided the Clique isn’t anything I want to be a part of (Sour Grapes? No… just realization that their little world isn’t really that interesting).




















