Archive for the ‘The Best of Sordid Tales’ Category

Roast Response

Thursday, May 17th, 2012

For those who don’t know, last Sunday, my wife produced the Ed Decker 50th Birthday Roast held at Winstons Beach Club. It was great, and, by “great,” I mean the way being shackled to the Judas Chair for a two-hour Spanish Inquisition is great. In all seriousness, a good time was had by all. My only regret was that the roast lasted so long that I didn’t have time to rebuke a lot of what was said about me.

Perhaps I’m breaking some sort of unwritten roast rule by responding ex post facto, but after the ass-reaming I received by my so-called friends, I don’t give a flying fart-factory about rules.

For instance, Jose Sinatra opened his set by saying, “I thought this was a wake!” and proceeded to sing a song about me being dead, which is funny coming from a man who appears to have been hit by a train and then reassembled by a hook-handed, alcoholic mortician.

Manya Buske told the crowd how—years before she met and married my pal, Duane—I got her drunk and tried to make out with her after she threw up.

Horseshit! I tried to make out with her before she threw up, when she was still passed out. What kind of monster do you take me for? (more…)

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Doing the Right Thing
(The day I discovered I was a heterosexual)

Monday, September 19th, 2011

From the Letters Department:

“Hey Ed, seems like you’re writing an awful lot about gay rights these days? People are starting to talk. Are you a queer?” –Jon

Not that it’s any of your business, Jon, but if I were gay you’d know it. I’d be proud of it. And I’d be good at it. I’d be the best damn gay in America. I’d bartend in all the hippest fem bars, wear all the crazy fem colors, say “You go, girl!” to all my fem friends and give these legendary blowjobs that’d make you go blind. Oh yes, Jon, if I were gay, you would know all about it.

I remember the day I discovered I was heterosexual.

(more…)

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Armageddon of Queer
(Tearing the very fabric of society)

Monday, September 19th, 2011

“I don’t know of any society that has embraced sodomy and survived.”
Pat Robertson


Day 1 (
Monday, March 27, 2018 ):

I noticed it the moment I awoke; a peculiar feeling that somehow the very fabric of our existence had been altered in some terrible, irreversible manner.

I dragged myself out of bed, walked to the front room, looked out the window, and couldn’t believe what I saw. The sky was black and orange, emergency vehicles whizzed by, a dozen or so stalks of smoke and flame billowed from upturned automobiles, and a dog was trotting down the street with a charred human leg between his foaming jaws.

I retrieved the newspaper and read the headline: Supreme Court Decision Allows Gays to Marry: Very fabric of society torn.”

(more…)

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Shucking the Children of the Corn

Thursday, September 8th, 2011

Vice President Joe Biden collected some trouble recently when he seemingly endorsed China’s controversial population-control policy during his visit there.

“Your [one-child-per-family] policy has been one which I fully understand,” he told the crowd. “I’m not second-guessing.”

It didn’t take long for his enemies to pile on, including House Speaker John Boehner, who said he was “deeply troubled” by Biden’s statement.

Doesn’t Boehner’s hyperbole make you wretch? He wasn’t just troubled by Biden’s remarks, see; he was deeply troubled—as if Boehner was pacing in his office all week, brooding about the apocalyptic effect the VP’s speech will have on our nation.

“The result being,” Biden continued, “that [China is] in a position where one wage earner will be taking care of four retired people. [It’s] not sustainable.”

Well, whaddaya know? Biden wasn’t endorsing it after all. Rather, he was making an economic argument over a moral one. Because, as Biden knows, when you attack someone’s morals, they become defensive and all progress comes to a halt. It’s called diplomacy. (more…)

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Locals Only (Parts 1 & 2)

Saturday, April 2nd, 2011

locals only1

The following article was originally published in San Diego CityBeat Magazine (June and August 2010) as two separate installments but combined here for your convenience.

LOCALS ONLY (Part 1)
Thanks for the Laughs

It was 11 p.m., and I was jonesing for some buffalo wings. So I strolled over to my favorite neighborhood bar, The Tilted Stick. Once there, I ran into an old bartender friend, Teddy Ballgame. I hadn’t seen Teddy in a long time, so I delayed ordering the wings, bought a round and started chatting. At one point in the conversation, I joked about a poster that hangs on the wall titled “Tilted Stick Rules,” which I began reading out loud to Teddy and doing a little comedy shtick on the rules I thought were silly. That’s when a stranger interrupted and said, “If you don’t like the rules, you can get out.”

Naturally, this took me by surprise. I was just joking around with Teddy and hadn’t intended to offend anyone, so I pondered his statement, then informed the guy—whose name (I later learned) rhymes with “snotty”—that we were having a private conversation, but “thanks for the advice anyway.”

“This is a locals bar,” Snotty insisted. “You need to leave,” at which point I thought I was at the Improv because this guy—this apparent victim of fetal-alcohol syndrome—was delivering what I considered to be pure comedy gold. (more…)

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The Battle of Thermopylae

Wednesday, March 30th, 2011
Aside from writing this filthy little column, one of my many side jobs is as an event coordinator for an outdoor music and arts festival called San Diego IndieFest (SDIF).The producers of SDIF, Danielle LoPresti and Alicia Champion, are two deeply committed, commie, lefty, pinko socialist, community-organizing-activist guerrilla-types who rage against the enemies of gay rights, feminism, environmentalism and independent arts.

I admire these guerls and respect all their causes, with the exception of one that I find particularly annoying. I’m talking about their campaign to abolish the word “pussy” (as it pertains to weakness or fragility). So devoted are they to this cause that they scold me every time I use it in their presence, which is often because Alicia happens to be a fan of Bostonian sporting outfits, and if there’s one word that describes the players or fans of Bostonian sporting outfits, it’s the P-word—and I don’t mean pugnacious. (more…)

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Locals Only Pt. 2
The Difference between Your Mother and Yo-Mama

Wednesday, February 16th, 2011

Some of you may remember a recent Sordid Tale about an encounter that occurred outside my favorite neighborhood slaughtering hole, The Tilted Stick, during which a guy named Scotty and several of his friends ambushed me because it was his opinion that I wasn’t local enough to patronize the establishment.

Well, two Sundays ago, Scotty and I crossed paths again.

I’ve dreaded our imminent reunion, largely because I didn’t want to be in the position of having to accept or reject his apology: I didn’t want to accept his apology because, well, how rotten-to-the-core must you be to gang up on a person over such absurd matters as his place of residence? On the other hand, I’m not a grudge-holder. I don’t give a crud about Scotty, except for the comedy of him, which I enjoy sharing with you. So, no, I didn’t want an apology, though I always assumed one was forthcoming.

Imagine my surprise to learn that not only was he not going to say “sorry,” but that this jackass would actually try to instigate another melée—“jackass,” incidentally, being the perfect word to describe him, as he is not quite a tool, not exactly a douchebag, nor hoodlum, hooligan, thug, punk or pissant, but, rather, a raging jackass with whom—on a lazy Sunday evening—I once again came face to face.

As it happened, the same two bartenders were present, as were several of the same regulars from the night of our first altercation. We were drinking and having a good time when Scotty came in. He made his rounds, hugging and shaking hands with everyone he knew. At first, he was oblivious to me, thankfully, as I enjoyed covertly observing him mingling about as if he were The Man, utterly ignorant of how not The Man he really is. (more…)

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A Christmas Recital

Thursday, January 6th, 2011

One of the advantages being a childless uncle is that you get to enjoy, in significantly smaller doses, of course, some of the experiences of parenting. Most are fabtacular, such as watching the kids tear open presents you bought them, or when they run into your arms as you first walk into the room, or watching with pride as they perfectly serve your dirty Stoli martinis the way you trained them.

Then there are the other experiences—the ones that remind you why you’ve never procreated. Having to clean up after a massive diarrhea mishap in the Target café, for example, or those times they get all screamy and jumpy and arguey in the space between you and the TV, or having to say “Who’s there” every five seconds during their interminable, knock-knock-joke-telling phase.

These are the moments that give me pause when considering parenthood, ’tis true, but it’s a recent experience that has permanently removed any lingering doubt. I’m talking about the nightmare known as the children’s piano recital. (more…)

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A Line in the Sand

Wednesday, October 27th, 2010

The first thing I thought—when I heard about the backlash surrounding the Jerry Brown campaign staffer who called his opponent, Meg Whitman, a “whore”—was: What’s this now?! “Whore” is an offensive epithet? That’s news to me.

Apparently, Whitman had been offering pension-reform exemptions to California law-enforcement unions in exchange for their support, which prompted the staffer in question to use the word in question. Then, during the last debate, moderator Tom Brokaw asked Brown why he had not admonished the staffer for using a term that, Brokaw said, “many women have compared to the N-word.”

Brown replied that he did not agree with the N-word comparison but wouldn’t elaborate. “I don’t want to get into the term and how it’s used,” he said before issuing a second apology.

Well, if Brown doesn’t want to “get into the term and how it’s used,” I will, because I’m sick of so many words being arbitrarily removed from the lexicon without any real analysis of what they mean, whom they affect and why. If I’m to be expected to stop using the W- word—a word that has brought me overwhelming joy and ebullient laughter throughout the years—there had damn well better be a good reason. I intend to prove that no such reason exists. Consider it my line in the sand. (more…)

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The Regurgitation

Thursday, August 19th, 2010

This is not a column about Proposition 8. It’s about the towering stupidity of its proponents.

In the days after Judge Vaughn R. Walker ruled that Prop. 8 is unconstitutional, I futilely scoured the Internet, print, TV and radio to locate just one anti-gay-marriage argument that did not, at some point, display colossal ignorance of our laws and government. (more…)

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My Exploding Heart
(A slam-dunk argument in favor of legalizing marijuana)

Wednesday, April 28th, 2010

my exploding heartBecause the decriminalization of marijuana will be on the California ballot this November, there’s been much debate regarding its health risks. And you know what? I’m actually beginning to think the anti-pot activists are right—legalization will have a grave effect on public health. Well, at least, the discussion of it will, because every time I hear a debate on the subject, my heart bursts open and blood spurts out my ears.

It’s the same setting every time. On one side of the table, you get a rabid, anti-pot conservative making ridiculously inflated, Reefer Madnessian claims about the harmful effects of marijuana, and on the other side, a mild-mannered, though ill-equipped, pro-pot liberal who never gets around to saying the one thing that will obliterate the conservative argument.

This time it was a debate/interview between Fox News commentator Laura Ingraham and Steve Fox, author of the book Marijuana is Safer: So Why Are We Driving People to Drink?

“Would you smoke pot before a TV appearance like this?” Ingraham smugly asked at the beginning of the interview. (more…)

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I am Phobophobic

Monday, April 26th, 2010

phobophobia

Phobophobia  n. (fo-bo-fo-bee-uh) The fear of fear

Of all the results of Super Tuesday 2004, none so sickening as the overwhelming majority to strike down gay marriage. Of course, a lot of people don’t agree with this thesis. They say gay marriage wasn’t an important issue at all. That during a time when war is waging, the economy is teetering, our health care system is diseased, and The View is still on the air — that it was a huge waste of time arguing over such a silly non-issue as gay marriage.

Bullshit. (more…)

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I am a Homophobe

Monday, April 26th, 2010

I’ve always hated the phrase homophobe. For one reason, calling someone a homophobe because they don’t agree with certain gay issues smacks a little close to, say, calling someone “unpatriotic” because they don’t agree with the war, or calling someone “racist” because they want tighter borders.

Secondly, not everyone who opposes gay marriage is afraid of gays. There may be some people who are, but there are all these other people out there who just think it’s wrong, and other people who think it’s ugly, and other people that really don’t mind it at all but just believe that a different word should be used to define a queer union, and all kinds of other people with all kinds of other emotions regarding homosexuality that don’t have anything to do with fear.

But lastly, and most significantly, the reason I loathe the word homophobe is because I just so happen to be one. Yes it’s true, I, Edwin John Decker Junior — son of Edwin John Decker Senior, son of the son of Earl Decker, who sailed from Scotland in a tattered raft and battled bigotry with bare knuckles when he arrived – am a stark raving homophobe. (more…)

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The Floundering Fathers

Sunday, April 25th, 2010

From the mailbag:

“Dearest Decker: In your article “Thou shalt not kill,” you said it was impossible to know what were the intentions of the Founding Fathers regarding separation of church and state. That is wrong. Their intentions were obvious…. They intended to keep God in the mix. They mention and praise him in almost all of their documents, including the Declaration of Independence….”

-J.B.L.

J.B.L. is correct. The Founding Fathers did mention God in the Declaration of Independence, and their intention was to keep him in the mix. But get this: It doesn’t matter what the Founding Fathers intended. They were so awash in the hypocrisies and ironies of their own, they can hardly be considered as the last word on anything. (more…)

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The Worst Lap Dance

Sunday, April 25th, 2010

I recently found myself stranded in Rosarito, Mexico, for three days. It was no big deal, really-there are a lot worse towns to be stranded in. I spent the days working on my laptop and the evenings drinking in the various saloons along the boulevard.

On one particular night, ambitious-drunk blood coursing through my veins, I thought I’d go and get me a lap dance.

Not that I’m some sort of lap-dance addict. It’s just that, well, Mexico is the land of the permissive lap dances. Couple that with the fact that you just can’t get a proper lap dance in San Diego-what with all the bullshit restrictions and that confounded no-touch law, a lap dance that actually occurs on the lap is difficult to find. So I figured I’d treat myself. (more…)

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How to be a Good Uncle

Wednesday, April 14th, 2010

edstab_edit_reduc_blood

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love being an uncle. This may come as a surprise to some readers, but as long as I don’t have to feed, clothe or—Christ forefend—cohabitate with them, I get along with kids famously.

One reason is because I don’t have any kids of my own. I’m not a parent and, therefore, don’t issue many of those annoying, parental-type demands, such as “Don’t say this” or “Don’t drink that.” I have only one rule: No secreting! Keep your disease-addled puddles of snot, spit, poop or pee away from me and my belongings. Other than that, it’s an open game. You want to run with scissors? Absolutely! Just keep them pointed inward. Feel like another Red Bull? Sure! Will that be with or without vodka?

Yes, I’m a fantastic uncle. It just comes naturally. However, there are many who struggle with the role. No worries, because today, I’m going to share my Theories on Uncle-ing—you’ll want to pay attention. (more…)

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Sticks and Stones

Thursday, March 18th, 2010

The French Parliament is considering legislation that will outlaw “psychological violence” directed at a spouse or any cohabitating domestic partners.

Though the language of the law is gender-nonspecific, it targets the atrocious problem the Frogs are having with those old-world, misogynistic, Neanderthalian males who tear women down by, you know, calling them fat, accusing them of infidelity, deriding their terrible taste in chick-flicks and similar types of bastardatry. (more…)

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Shooting Stars
(a goofy Valentine’s Tale of how I met my wife)

Friday, February 19th, 2010
My bride

My bride

It was February 1999. I had just written a Sordid rant condemning a cluster of City Council-proposed anti-stripper laws that prompted a dozen or so local dancers to e-mail me in gratitude. It was an exciting chapter in my life as I had—for a brief moment—realized my boyhood dreams and became a hero to the strippers of the land.

Among these e-mails was a complimentary letter from a gal named Willow in which she noted, among other things, that she was not an exotic dancer. Somehow, I missed that part because, during our subsequent e-mail conversations, I got it in my head that Willow—a stripper alias to be sure—did make her living hanging upside-down upon the glittery poles of golden grandeur.

Fast forward two weeks: I’m at the gym when I notice this scary-looking wife-beater type—arms, legs and face popping with muscles and prison tats—staring at me in such a manner that I can’t tell if he wants to shank me or be my Valentine. Eventually, he approaches and asks if my name is Ed Decker.

“Um, yeah,” I respond, timidly, hoping and praying that it’s a Hallmark card he’s reaching for and not a shiv. (more…)

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No Cussing Week
(Saving the lives of puny little twerps)

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

no_cussing.jpg

By now, you’ve probably heard about the 14-year-old South Pasadena boy who recently lobbied to have profanity banned in his hometown. Apparently, the City Council liked the idea so much that they officially proclaimed the first week in March as No Cussing Week and The State of California is considering adopting No Cussing Week as well. (more…)

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Global Boiling

Monday, January 18th, 2010

I’ve always hated euphemisms. A euphemism replaces an unpleasant word or phrase with one that is more palatable, such as the term “pre-owned” to replace “used” or “landfill” to replace “garbage dump.” It’s a symptom of the fact that mankind would rather obfuscate certain truths about itself than confront them.

Even worse are political euphemisms used to influence the public mindset, such as Dick Cheney’s “enhanced interrogation” to replace “torture,” which is offensive and an insult to our intelligence.

And let us not forget The Dark Lord of euphemisms, former Bush administration consultant Frank Luntz, who gave the president such doozies as “climate change,” “opportunity scholarships” and “responsible energy exploration,” which works well as a euphemism for “drill” but really isn’t all that bumper-sticker-friendly.

“Explore responsibly, baby, explore!” (more…)

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