Feeling slutty should always be a choice!!!

Recently my husband and I made a quick (yet long) trip to Dallas for a photo shoot as honorees for DFW Style Daily’s best dressed 2013. I call the trip quick because we were only in Dallas for about twenty-six hours but feeling adventurous and curious about this MegaBus we’d been hearing so much about decided to use it as our mode of transport. I guess my Manager/Publicist was feeling extra “down with the people.” Who knows, but it was a very inexpensive option, and even more so if you calculate the cost per hour. I’ve taken more expensive cab rides from Ft. Lauderdale airport to downtown Miami. Wow is all I can say, because it took us about twenty hours to get there and another twenty to get back. Nearly two days’ worth of road travel with the most obnoxious group of strangers ever assembled. I’m talking about over the hill five foot tall muscle heads, older ladies with drawstring ponytails, females with blood red contact lenses, and a host and array of other odd characters. I couldn’t have chosen a more diverse group of individuals if it were my job and had been for the last decade. However, I digress. Finally making it to Dallas after moving from the metroplex two months prior was an interesting feeling. I missed it dearly but couldn’t wait to leave it again and head back to Chicago.

After calling for car service and arriving at our nameless, faceless, soulless hotel, who earned these titles because they charged us an additional fifty dollars for checking in early, although the room was ready and totally empty. Our twenty hour bus ride meant nothing to them. Anyway after getting to our room, my focus was on the plush king-size bed because I desperately needed a nap before we had to head to the Galleria Dallas for 4:00pm. I plop down and immediately fall asleep. Four hours later I wake up and call my mom in California because I knew she’d answer. During this entire time I feel like we had everything we needed for this trip, and maybe a bit more than was necessary.

Our alarm sounds and Lavarro wakes up and he shaves and showers and proceeds to get dressed. After he was done, it was my turn shave and shower, which also went smoothly. In case you’re wondering why he went first when I was already awake, it’s because I take 200 degree showers that make the walls drip sweat and set off smoke detectors. Lavarro only uses cold water and he’d have to wait too long for the heat to dissipate before he could even step foot beyond the doors threshold. Anyway, it was time to get dressed and then it hit me like a ton of bricks! The only underwear that I brought with me was the pair that I was wearing. How in the world did I manage to bring nearly every piece of jewelry from our safe, and like five pairs of jeans and two wool jackets, and my arsenal of Dior skincare and forget something as essential as underwear? If we were at the St. Francis in San Francisco I could have run down to Victoria Secret in the hotel’s lobby and purchased a pair of panties big enough to wear for the day. It wouldn’t have been the first time I was forced to wear women’s panties in a pinch. Perhaps one day I’ll tell you that entire story. Right now it’s between Lavarro, Della, God and I.

So in typical DJ fashion, I ask Lavarro if he’d packed underwear for me, and blamed him for not making sure I had not only an extra pair, but several extra pairs so that I could choose the pair that best fit my mood at the time of getting dressed. I pitch a fit, refuse to get dressed, and then I’m presented with a fresh pair of underwear by my better (more organized) half. You’d think this would have solved my dilemma, but it only presented yet another obstacle. You guys, these underwear were so freaking tiny and slutty that I got upset all over again. Why’d I have to wear the slut undies? Why couldn’t Lavarro trade with me and let me wear the full coverage pair? Seriously guys these things were super-duper slutty. I want to show you a picture but I don’t know if my husband would permit me to. I’ll do my best to describe them. Ok first, they’re powder blue and sheer. They’re super low-rise, and they have a black waist band and also a black band that goes from the front top of the waistband and down around the jewels and cups them and presents them in a way as if to say, “These are for you! Enjoy!” I was soooo humiliated because I was imagining having to get changed in front of strangers and then they’d judge me and think I was some back room, glory hole, freak of the week. This was such a tragedy.

Fortunately, we made it on time to the photo-shoot on time and no one ever knew my dirty little secret. I looked like a gentleman, and the photos perfectly reflected that. Just so you know, after that incident when we got back home, I ordered that underwear in every color for Lavarro and myself. I guess I discovered a side of myself that I thought I’d left in my early twenties. You’re never too old to feel sexy. I simply wanted a choice.
Remember that “Love never fails.”

Until next time…
-DJ Hurley

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Don’t shoot the Messenger!!!

Greetings fine people. My apologies for not posting last week, but as a new resident of Chicago, with a strong preference for warm and hot climates, I’ve been not feeling the best because our weather is changing. Lavarro and I relocated here from Dallas at the end of June so this is our first fall/winter in the windy city. If you haven’t been here, and aren’t aware, the cold is REAL. Right now we’re only in the 30’s, and although we’ve had no snow yet, we did have a freeze warning for yesterday October 22nd.
Another reason for the lack of a post last week was that I was grossed out by the internet. I guess now is a good time to let you all know that I’m super dramatic, and moody…especially when I’m not feeling the best.

Anyway, trying to decide what to write always seems to change from day to day but throughout all of the mental changes and anguish there is always a topic that begins to weigh heavier on my heart and mind than others.

Since you’ve heard from me last, the subject that has filled a lot of my waking thoughts is how to drive more traffic to this blog. How to appeal to the demographics that I feel I’m a voice for. In doing so, I’ve come to realize that the group of people I was hoping to reach initially, more than likely will not be receptive to what I have to say. It pisses me off because if this were a blog of nude male images, with posts of explicit sexual acts then I could quite easily have the most popular site within the gay community. Why is this community so strongly led by lust, temptation, and overt sexuality? I refuse with every ounce and fiber of my being to succumb to the pressure to author a successful site by filling pages with the type of trash that I don’t stand for. I hate to feel like I have to abandon a segment of the population that I feel *hold please* (just got an urge to see if I could beat box…epic fail). Yeah so I don’t want to feel like I’m giving up on a segment of the population that needs more positive light shining upon it. Nor do I want to feel like I’m no longer a part of a vibrant community of passion, talent, and colorful people that has shaped me through the struggle and stigma that we’ve all had to deal with. No matter the socioeconomic status of gays, they’re still seen with a red light cast upon them symbolic of the back rooms and bath houses they’re assumed to be frequenting. It is so difficult trying to work against the negatives stereotypes, while maintaining a connection to the gay community and doing more for you.

I don’t know you guys, am I supposed to continue fighting for an underserved demographic or do I put the energy toward those that are giving positive energy back to me? Perhaps those that I felt I had to reach and who would embrace me isn’t who I’m writing for anyway. At this point my feeling is that I’ll assemble the words in sentences, quotes, and phrases and let my audience decide who they are, and if and when something I say applies to them. I’m merely a messenger, and my message is all-inclusive. #GunsDown #DontShoot

Remember that “Love never fails.”

Until next time…
-DJ Hurley

It’s levels to this s@*#!!!

OMG you guys, I didn’t know how to start, where to start, or even when to start whatever it is that I’m starting. Point A is always the hardest to locate for some reason. I guess it’s because the expectation of what and where it should be and what it looks like is so great that when you don’t feel like you’re seeing it or beginning there, then somehow everything that follows will be tragic. I don’t know the start of this journey feels a bit convoluted and contradictory but the inner turmoil is real, and so am I.
See this is the precise reason it’s taken so long for me to start this blog. That first step seems so difficult to make because it has to be worded perfectly and capture the attention of my potential audience. The first post is going to set the tone for what’s to come in the weeks, months, and years to follow. It’s my introduction to an entire world of readers with opinions that I’m sure they’re not at all afraid to share. Unabashed and highly critical people make me feel vulnerable and judged even if and when no judgment is being passed. The only other time I can recall making a decision this tough was as a child. Don’t wonder what difficult decision a child has to make because I’ll tell you and then you’ll totally understand where I’m coming from. This is like choosing the perfect first day of school outfit. Right? Remember it was all about that first outfit because it consisted of so many important statements all wrapped up in a single look. It told the masses where you’ve shopped, approximately how much you’ve spent, and gave insight into what could be expected from the rest of the school years wardrobe. The first day of school look had to be the second best in your arsenal of fashion because if your peers thought you killed on the first day, they wouldn’t be expecting you to up the bar on day number two. So basically, as the song goes, “it’s levels to this shit!” and making sure to be on the correct level at the correct time is vital. First impressions are lasting and can’t be taken back. I’m nervous (not really), but I do want you all to love me and much like in high school I am seeking acceptance in this sea of other people, headlines, and opinions.
The main purpose of this post is, and was to take the first step in creating my place and presence online. What will come next will either be a lot more random, or possibly more well thought out? Your guess is as good as mine. Let’s find out together…it’s going to get interesting. Reality television without the television. I’m the star. Lol.

Love & Respect,
DJHurley

Introducing…

DJ Hurley is many things, and of all those things he has had to work very hard and tirelessly to master them all.  The one gift he has never had to work so hard at is his ability to communicate effectively his experiences, thoughts and feelings.  DJ is able to do this with a humor and honesty that isn’t quite as common as one would think.  His poetry says what you wish you could say, or even knew could be said.  His essays are insightful and easy to read.  And his opinions are interesting, and thought-provoking but never disrespectful.  Most of the time, you feel like he’s a friend speaking directly to you, because his voice is informed but not judgmental.  He owns his opinions as his own, and never as right or wrong.  A unique character with a lot to say, that you are sure to fall in love with over time (if not immediately).   I’m proud to call him my best friend, husband, and client.

I introduce to you…DJ Hurley!!!  Enjoy what comes next.

 

With Love,

Lavarro Jackson-Hurley

Manager/Publicist

For booking, guest blogging, appearances, and other inquiries please contact me at 917-450-8962 fax: 773-475-6677 or email: Jackson.hurley@hotmail.com

In addition to writing, DJ Hurley is also a professional makeup artist, hiv/aids advocate, volunteer, event host and mentor.

Twitter: ITBLEvents IG: LavarroJHurley
Twitter & IG: DJHurleyHD