Tag: photography

• Hawai’i: the hot friend in the friend group (you know it’s true)

  Imagine the states were all friends. Like, not best friends (obviously like how could Ohio and Michigan ever be besties??) but like maybe a misfit group of high school pals from different circles who (for some reason?) all hang out together. Arizona would be the sweet but permafried boy with messy hair and cargo shorts and vocal fry who tries to sell you pills that he SWEARS are legit but you’re pretty sure are just Prilosec. Virginia is the Aéropostale jock who acts like he’s full of swagger but you know secretly has erectile dysfunction and is really insecure about it so he hangs up shirtless, oiled up pics of Andrew Tate in his locker (no homo). Minnesota is the sweet, wholesome math prodigy who pretends like she only studies over the weekends but somehow can drink everyone else under the table (and is super fucking polite while she does it). Arkansas is the guy with a samurai sword in his dad’s basement. Also he perpetually smells like Fritos even though he only eats Hot Cheetos and Baja Blast (no one knows why). Oregon is the furry (there’s always one). Oklahoma is the horse girl. And Hawai’i? She’s the hot friend. Like, the really hot friend. The one where you always wonder why she hangs out with you all. But like, she’s super chill about her hotness. She’s not a stuck up bitch like Connecticut. She doesn’t try and steal your guy like Colorado (fucking thirsty ass Colorado). She’s just there. And low key. And a dimepiece. All the other states would be jealous because they know deep down they can never be her, but they genuinely just like her too much to let that jealousy get in the way. She just goes to school and dates her hot college sophomore boyfriend (which looking back is sus on his part??? But at the time we all thought was so cool). You know her. You love her. We’ll never be as cool as Hawai’i. We just have to be ok with that fact and try and live the rest of our lives with that hollow, empty void in the pit of our hearts for eternity. But hey, at least we don’t huff glue like Nebraska, right?

  Ahhhhhh- it’s October. That time of year when things start crispening up, and the leaves get all technicolor, and we’re reminded that in (checks notes) less than a month it will be dark by 4:00 so you better get your vitamin D and/or sad light and/or ketamine ready hennyyyyyyyyy. I can’t wait for all three. At the same time. 😉 Anywhozerz- how are y’all doing?? It’s been a minute since I checked in. Life’s been lifing like crazy out here in America’s Dairyland. I be schooling, and working, and photographing, and found this sick ass super queer astrology themed bar in Milwaukee that’s my new fave place. I was talking to Stacey (one of the owners who works the bar) and trying to convince her to do a drag show there (teehee maybe orchestrating a distant return of Vel Veeta from the primordial depths?? We shall see 👀).

  Ok wait!!! But most importantly. By FAR the most important thing that has happened: Mom responded to her chemo treatments amazingly and is back to living her best life while we figure out what (muuuuuch less intense) long term treatment looks like. So wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, stop immediately for a sec. Even if you’re driving 80 on the freeway, throw that emergency brake on hunny (also I’m mad impressed and angry at you for reading this while driving that fast??). Mid surgery? Put down the scalpel. At the gym? Fly off the treadmill. Piloting the Titanic? Crash that bitch into an iceberg. Because we are all taking a celebratory shot together! It can be tequila (like me), or vodka, or orange juice, or gravy, or Pepto Bismol or maybe all of the above! Because we are cheersing to the queen’s health and happiness! *clinks glass with you all* Thanks for doing that with me. Now get your ass off the phone and get back to driving. If you have a message you’d like me to share with miss Candy, text me and I shall forward to her majesty. Or text her yourself if you have her number. But don’t ask for her number. That’d be sweet, but kinda invasive.

  Omg also! I went to Hawai’i in August for a week. My breastie bestie Shmelsie (love you bb ❤️) invited me to a week in Polynesian paradise to celebrate her birthday and I mean like….how could I turn down a week in Kaua’i before having my brain leak out my ears all semester? I’d never been, but I’d always been intrigued by the Garden Island. Kaua’i is the eastern and northernmost of the (main) Hawaiian islands. There aren’t any large towns (the population of the whole island is just shy of 75,000) and large parts of the island are extremely steep, rugged, inaccessible terrain. Honestly- Kaua’i’s geography is fucking nuts. In a relatively small area you have:

  • The extremely steep, dramatic cliffs of the Nā Pali Coast which plunge (at their steepest) 4,000 feet into the Pacific Ocean.
  • Waimea Canyon, known as the Grand Canyon of the Pacific, which is jaw droppingly stunning and features a main canyon with a 3,000 foot elevation drop through several visually distinct strata of rock (some being vibrant red).
  • (Debatably) one of the wettest locations on planet Earth- Mount Wai’ale’ale. Averaging about 370 inches of rain a year (yup, you read that right), it’s a massive extinct shield volcano which is extremely eroded.
  • The Alaka’i Swamp- a high elevation swamp near the peak of Wai’ale’ale which is unique for having large, flat areas of poor drainage at very high elevation, creating super distinct climatic conditions that allow a bunch of specialized plants and animals to thrive.
  • The rugged northern coast, including Tunnels Beach (a beach with large caves eroded out of nearby cliffs) and Queen’s Bath (an area of jagged coastline made of volcanic rock forming deep pits, chasms and pools).
  • Kalalau Valley- part of the Nā Pali Coast- which is a steep, narrow, lush valley completely inaccessible except by boat or a 27 mile hike with like 3,000 feet of elevation change.
  • Hanapepe Valley- just another run of the mill incredibly scenic valley.

  Needless to say, it’s beautiful as frick. And the fauna?? My lord. There were birds a plenty, including chickens. So. Many. Chickens. Literally everywhere. I thought I’d wake up in the middle of the night to chickens on the coffee table. Just silently staring at me. Watching me sleep. Menacingly. But alas, they stayed outside (maybe next time?) There were so many fish, including blue and yellow surgeon fish (literally this big ass neon blue and yellow fish which was just chilling right next to us in shallow water at the beach). And lil’ cutie mountain goats, who popped by at Waimea Canyon to say hi. And fucking DOLPHINS???? So many dolphins. I’d never seen dolphins before and there they were- flippin’ and floppin’ around and looking so adorable. But most importantly- the animals that made my heart melt and then congeal like wax into a misshapen blob and then melt again- the sea turtles. Something snapped in my brain seeing them. Like in a good way. A feral way. They’re so adorable and chill. They can’t be bothered. But like actually, legally, they can’t be bothered. You can’t go near them as they’re an endangered species and require protected beach to lay eggs and vibe out. But thankfully with the magic of a zoom lens on my camera, I was able to snag some beauty shots of them as they adorably slept on Poipu Beach (photo evidence below).

  Oh and don’t even get me started on the food. The motherfuckin’ PINEAPPLE? Literally tasted like candy. And the dragon fruit? *breathes heavy* The seafood (of course) was also just finger lickin’ good. And the shave ice? Bitch. Whoever decided to throw a scoop of macadamia nut ice cream in with the ice and syrup deserves a goddamn Nobel Peace Prize. *sigh*

  It was a beautiful little break from what’s been a pretty crazy year. I’m just so deeply grateful to have been given the opportunity to experience it. I know there’s a lot of complicated, conflicting implications visiting Hawai’i as a white U.S. mainlander, and I can’t blame people there for hating tourists. I really can’t. It must feel like a constant reminder that your homeland was stolen and quite literally uprooted in the name of *checks notes* sugarcane. Yup, that’s it. A tale as old as time- the U.S. deciding “Hey, you over there. That thing you have, we want it.” And then acquiring that thing using the most backhanded, cruel, manipulative, genocidal means possible. And of course bitch ass missionaries had to get involved too. Bitch ass missionaries always get involved. And now every time a sunburnt family of five wearing Old Navy flip flops and University of Iowa merch shows up and tramples over historic sites drunk on mai tais at 2 in the afternoon and spreads more invasive plants and says ignorant shit you’re just supposed to be ok with it. Idk. I get it. It’s hard not to think of a timeline where things turned out differently. All that being said: I am just so grateful I was able to experience the beauty here, cause there truly is nowhere on Earth like it. Thank you for having us and sharing your glory with us, Kaua’i.

  As a final note- Kaua’i has been hit hard this year with hurricanes- most recently Hurricane Lowell, which caused extensive damage along the southern and western shores. If you’re able to, please consider sending some money to Malama Kaua’i’s emergency relief fund. They’re a Kaua’i based non-profit who focuses efforts on building food resiliency across the island (which, as you can imagine, has been severely impacted by the recent destructive storms). I’ll send you nudes if you send money. Or I won’t (whatever is more motivating for you!)

  Anyways- I love y’all. Stay kind, korny, and kantakerous. Til next time 😈

  Kaua’i- August 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  O’ahu- August 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  October 3, 2026

  architecture, beach, Hawaii, Kauai, nature, pacific, photography, Polynesia, rainforest, travel

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• Summer in the Sierra makes me feel all the feels

  So who else hates Timothée Chalamet? First of all, he’s not that hot. Like at all. Sorry- I think the middle part hairdo is doofy and goofy and makes him look 12. Secondly, I feel like he is a v mid actor (like I just watched a bit of Marty Supreme with my parents and we had to end it bc he (and the movie) were both so fucking insufferable and like I know that’s the point of his character in the movie and it’s supposed to be pointing out how absurd he is but also I get the feeling that’s probs just Timboy in real life too?? Like it kinda felt like life imitating art?? And him in Dune is literally just two hours of him staring dopily at the camera saying random dramatic lines??). Third he’s with shapeshifting reptilian Kylie Jenner which makes him a reptile by association. If you’re gonna be a reptile just live your truth and be open about it. Don’t get me wrong- I love reptiles! I support your cold-blooded journey TMan. But like, just do it better. Do it with your whole chest. Stand ten scaly reptile toes down. C’mon. Anyways, hate is a strong word but I just find him to be so painfully bland and it’s wild to me how many ppl have such boners for him when like, Michael B. Jordan and Pedro Pascal are RIGHT THERE?? I guess it’s kinda like how ppl like Morgan Wallen or Jelly Roll or whatever other washed up soggy, mediocre pieces of white bread are popular at the moment. Different strokes for different folks, I suppose.

  ANYWAAAAYYYYYS hi everybody! How are we all doing? Did you enjoy today’s completely unimportant, un-asked for rant to start off the post? Here I’ll answer for you: yes, yes you did. Because Morgan Wallen can choke. But we’re not here to talk about racist trash. We’re here to talk about SUMMER. And the gorginaaa Sierra Nevada. And RENO! (A perennial fave topic of discussion here on the blog). And LAKE MOTHAFRENCHIN’ TAHOE which I somehow haven’t ever brought up yet on here?? Well hold onto your bloomers and strap on your garters cause we’re talking about it now henny.

  Tahoe. Truly a wonder of the world. The gorgeous sapphire of the Sierra (I just came up with that shit off the dome- doesn’t it sound good?? Sponsor me Lake Tahoe tourism board. Plz.) A preposterously deep, perplexingly clear, permanently cold, high altitude, alpine sea full of myths, cryptids, and (maybe) mafia casualties?? Mark Twain said it best:

  “…the Lake burst upon us—a noble sheet of blue water lifted six thousand three hundred feet above the level of the sea and walled in by a rim of snow-clad mountain peaks that towered aloft full three thousand feet higher still!”

  “As it lay there with the shadows of the mountains brilliantly photographed upon its still surface, I thought it must surely be the fairest picture the whole earth affords.”

  “The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine. Bracing and delicious. And why shouldn’t it be? It is the same the angels breathe.”

  Of course, Twain also said:

  “I hope some bird will catch this Grub the next time he calls Lake Bigler by so disgustingly sick and silly a name as “Lake Tahoe…” Of course, Indian names are more fitting than any others for our beautiful lakes and rivers, which knew their race ages ago, perhaps, in the morning of creation, but let us have none so repulsive to the ear as “Tahoe” for the beautiful relic of fairy-land forgotten and left asleep in the snowy Sierras when the little elves fled from their ancient haunts and quitted the earth. “Tahoe” – it sounds as weak as soup for a sick infant. “Tahoe” be – forgotten!”

  So….Twain might be a bit of a dumb bitch. Can you believe Tahoe at one point was called LAKE BIGLER? Like eww that makes me wanna vom.com all over my laptop. Bigler?? That sounds like some obnoxious, pretentious, crusty ass Ivy League economist who only reads the Wall Street Journal at his luxuriously appointed English manor while drinking earl grey tea in the morning and chuckling haughtily about the condition of the ‘poors’. Bigler???? That sounds like some inbred, corn fed, small town police chief from Toad Suck, Arkansas (real place, by the way) who doesn’t believe in habeas corpus (nor can he spell it or even sound it out). Bigler sounds like the last name of a Vanderpump Rules reject who believes in 2026 it’s still not too late to start a podcast. Bigler sounds like the name of some appalling and extremely dangerous and unhygienic sex act outlawed in 49 states, 5 US territories, and 190 countries (Arkansas is the one state where it’s still legal. Because of course it is). Ok one last one- Bigler sounds like it’d be Lindsey Graham’s Grindr alias. Because it’s always the ones who put big in their name who are anything but. Like what kinda 1860’s meth was Twain smoking that he thought BIGLER sounded better than Tahoe? Anyways, I digress.

  Besides being so wrong about the name, Twain is spot on when it comes to Tahoe’s beauty. Perched high up in the central Sierra Nevada mountains, the lake is ringed by steep granite mountains on all sides. On its northern and eastern shores, the mountains plunge almost directly into the clear, turquoise, snowfed waters. The shoreline in these areas is steep, indented, and covered with large granite boulders interspersed with manzanita and fragrant incense cedar, sugar pine and Jeffrey pine groves. The western shore rises more gradually from the water, featuring dense forests, meadows, small towns and long beaches. In the southwestern corner of the lake lies Emerald Bay, an incredibly picturesque, glacier-carved tiny lil’ blip on the shoreline surrounded by steep mountains. Smack dab in the middle of the bay is a small island with the ruins of an old stone tea house called Vikingsholm. I’ve never been (and I know nothing about it) but I do know that there’s no way in hell this place ain’t haunted as fuck. Abandoned tea house?? Small island in the middle of the lake?? Vikingsholm?? There’s definitely ghosts. And Norwegian poltergeists. Probably a demon or two.

  On the far south side of Tahoe lies the aptly named South Lake Tahoe, the epicenter of the lake’s trash. There you’ll find a wall of casinos clustered along the Nevada-California state line (bc of course), super popular ski resorts (like Heavenly) and flat, marshy land along the lakeshore. Ok maybe calling it trash was a bit harsh, but it’s def the most overly built out and tacky part of Tahoe so I have to hate on it just a liiiiiittle bit. Let’s be real- I can only get away with it because I am also overly built out and tacky so I’m well qualified to call it out in others. But all jokes aside: Tahoe is a goddamn 10/10. A true dimepiece. So even the nastiest, rankest, most gutterbutt corner of Tahoe is far more beautiful than the nicest parts of just about anywhere else. Especially you, ARKANSAS.

  Some fun Tahoe facts:

  • Tahoe’s greatest depth is 1,645 feet- the second deepest in North America (fuck you Crater Lake)(jkjk).
  • Tahoe contains more water than any lake in North America outside of the Great Lakes.
  • Tahoe was formed about 2 million years ago (aka about 5 years after Mitch McConnell was born).
  • Tahoe is 22 miles long at its longest point, 12 miles wide at its widest, and has over 70 miles of shore. It’s so large you can see the curvature of the earth when looking at it.
  • The lake’s only outlet is the Truckee River, which runs through steep canyons into Reno before ending in Pyramid Lake. Therefore, Lake Tahoe is part of a closed (or endorheic) water basin, meaning it does not connect to any ocean.
  • The lake was made by tectonic activity along a major faultline and in the event of a large earthquake, the lake could generate tsunamis.
  • The Tahoe basin accumulates extremely high snowfall totals in winter. In 1938, a record 68 feet of snow was recorded at Donner Pass (yes- that’s the same Donner Pass that the Donner Party encountered).
  • Lake Tahoe’s waters are so cold that it can essentially pause decomposition of organic materials. In 2011 a scuba diver’s preserved body was found after going missing 17 years earlier.
  • The lake is split right down the middle by California and Nevada. Like two dumb siblings, they’ve fought over their halves multiple times. The line has changed repeatedly since the 1850’s. There’s now currently a border marker in the middle of a golf course and allegedly the border goes right through an Applebee’s. Fucking Applebee’s.

  Beyond all the fun facts, Tahoe to me is my past. It’s part of my identity. Every summer growing up we’d drive up the extremely steep, winding, terrifying Mount Rose Highway (my parents made me get some of my practice driving hours for my learner’s permit on this road and I’m still a lil scarred heeheehee ✨trauma✨) and set up shop at the beach. I’ve smoked a lot of weed, drank Mike’s Hard Lemonades (oh to be an undergrad again), read some truly atrocious paperback romance novels (out loud too hehe the people around us hated that) and made a helluva lot of memories at the beach at Tahoe. I’ve gotten countless sunburns, and scraped my feet jumping off rocks, and gone paddleboarding, and seen a ton of lil crawdads. I’ve watched sunsets, supermoons, and fireworks. I’ve been at Tahoe through powerful summer thunderstorms, brilliant sunshine, blizzards and thick wildfire smoke. I’ve spent laughter filled afternoons with friends, helped set up jazz concerts at Sand Harbor, got lost in the woods at night (no literally this happened once when I was in middle school and it was horrifying) and cruised its shores alone to heal heartbreak. I’m so grateful for this incomparable natural gem. Whether it’s the fragrant smell of pine and juniper on a hot summer day or the feeling of coarse granite boulders on my feet- coming back to Tahoe is coming home. Nowhere else on earth comes close to comparing to her. So honestly, all y’all other lakes should stop trying. It’s embarrassing.

  Omg but I’ve spent all this time talking about Tahoe!! I haven’t even talked about me! Well, honestly nothing new here. My hair is really long now. My credit score is still double digit. But my mom is doing great! She got a new wig and looks absolutely GORGE in it (check the gallery below if you don’t believe me but also if you don’t then fuck you??? My mom has always been gorgeous so you can fuck right off with that energy.) The wig’s name is Tasha Minxxx and it is also now unofficially/officially my mom’s drag name (for when I inevitably put her in face again and her diva mode activates). Being back in Nevada for the summer has been nostalgic, and healing, and somewhat emotional. I also forgot how many lizards there are here?? Like truly these lil’ fuckers are everywhere! Nothing makes me happier than seeing their cute little scaly faces scampering over rocks warmed by the afternoon sun. I just wanna pinch their little cold blooded cheeks. I fucking love reptiles. Unless they’re named Timothée Chalamet.

  Reno/Tahoe- Summer 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  July 17, 2026

  california, desert, gay, Lake Tahoe, mountains, nature, nevada, photography, Sierra Nevada, summer, travel, United States

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• I’m convinced: Milwaukee is a Gemini

  Hilda gasped when she saw a reflection in her bedroom mirror: through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared her cabin. She stood and spun around, her breasts swinging heavily with the momentum. She grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing shirtless Torolf quivering with desire in the hallway. Torolf was ashamed at being caught, but his shame made him even hotter – hotter for sex. He stepped into the room, and his bulging abs accidentally smushed into Hilda’s rich chest.
  As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm.

  “Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs. “There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire.”

  Hilda had been waiting to hear these words. Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. Her snooch got all warm, too.

  “Torolf,” Hilda moaned, her lush teats straining with desire. “I need you.”

  Torolf, coarse abs pulsing softly in the moonlight, stood silently. Hilda looked at him expectantly.

  “Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.”

  At hearing those beautiful words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection. She parted her thighs in anticipation, exposing the soft pink petals of her clunge. Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment.
  Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands. Her spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding. Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it. Then Torolf moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson’s. He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent sperms as Hilda spasmed with so many orgasms!
  The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed around the room. Hilda got out of bed, still shimmering with orgasm. She glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop. She walked across the room and picked up her towel, still wet with shower water.

  “Torolf,” she said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you…”
  But her bed was empty. Torolf was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. In the distance, Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.

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  That, my friends, is a passage from the most incredible novel: Rough and Ready. I briefly mentioned it in my last post (recap: it’s a smut novel about a time travelling Viking/Navy Seal who goes back 1,000 years to kill a Norse tyrant who killed his family and gets laid along the way). Now you’re probably wondering ‘Now Matt- what does this waste of ink and paper have to do with Milwaukee, being a Gemini, or anything?’ Well Suzanne, it has EVERYTHING to do with those things. Let me explain:

  This summer has been anything but typical. Between my mom’s battle against the fucking evil known as cancer, work, school, the inescapable annoying stupid bitch that is AI, the fabric of society continuing to crumble AND a super El Niño on the horizon? Ma’am, we are COOKED. But know what’s been helping my psyche weather these storms? Torolf and Hilda’s love for the ages. I mean, what else compares to “spongy love mountains” and “throbbing meat wand”?? Anyways, Sandra Hill is an American hero who deserves to be celebrated instead of any of this 250th anniversary bullshit we’re all having shoved down our throats. Like I’m sorry- what are we celebrating this year?? The collective push down the stairs into authoritarianism? Celebrating multiple centuries of the US destroying countless lives, cultures and countries in the name of “protecting national security” (i.e. making more goddamn money because we don’t already have enough)???? Are we celebrating the lingering ways that American government, business, and institutions continue to institute and enforce slavery through the private prison system? Or how about the construction of internment camps, deportation of folks to completely foreign and unsafe locations and random abductions off the street which, by the way, never stopped? Could it possibly be the fact that folks who were involved (directly or barely tangentially) to Anti-ICE protests just got sentenced to 30 years in prison?? Maybe it’s the fact that as taxpayers we bankrolled a fucking UFC FIGHT AT THE WHITE HOUSE??? WHAT EVEN IS HAPPENING ANYMORE. I honestly just wanna punch the air in anger. But instead I will continue to read Rough and Ready. And listen to The Dutchess by Fergie (aka like one of the best albums ever made?? Like seriously- some friends and I played it at a picnic the other week and holy shit I forgot just how hard this album hits. It engrained itself into my neurons at the right time (puberty) when my identity was forming- much like the first single-celled organisms out of the primordial soup of ancient seas on Earth. There’s Fergalicious, and Glamorous, and Clumsy, and London Bridge, and Big Girls Don’t Cry, and so many other bangers- how are we not all collectively obsessing over this album still?? I remember being a freshman in high school and listening to Clumsy like, on an endless loop. Fergie was played all the time on the radio, specifically on Wild 102.9 (eyyyy shoutout to my Reno peeps who will remember that station. Good times.) Anyways, that’s what inspired the playlist for this blog post today.) Oh, and I’ll continue to take photos of pretty things cause goddamnit it that might be the single thread of sane connective tissue tethering me to the day to day reality of this planet right now. Mother Earth never disappoints in her infinite beauty. And sometimes- every once in a blue moon- humans get it right too and make something truly spectacular. Like Rough and Ready. Or the Dutchess.

  So you’re probably still wondering: ‘Ok so….what does Rough and Ready have to do with Milwaukee or being a Gemini?’ Well….I lied. It really has nothing to do with either of those things, I really just wanted to share its literary beauty with the ones I love. You should be grateful for the experience! But now I present to you all, a tale told in two parts: Milwaukee.

  Winter and early spring in Milwaukee can be harsh. Although the days are starting to get longer, the bitter chill remains: accented by frigid winds blowing in from Lake Michigan. Although most of the snow from earlier in the winter has melted, a few resilient patches remain. An errant blizzard might blow through, covering whatever timid beginnings of new spring growth have sprouted with a fresh layer of pristine powder. The city’s waterways lie under a thick crust of ice, which buckles and ripples along the coastline, creating geometric cracks and crevices. Chunks of ice are shoved skyward as they ram against bridge pylons and marinas. Despite it all, the energy of life persists. Songbirds sing ballads to each other across the frozen air. Squirrels- bundled against the cold like babushkas- feverishly sprint from tree to tree collecting food and getting up to mischief with their friends. A few brave bulbs start to push out shoots through the bare earth and snow to meet the cold sunlight. In stark contrast to the brown earth, the vibrant purple flowers of crocuses and hyacinths are little neon signs saying: Stay Strong- Spring is Near. While nature may still mostly be sleeping within a cocoon of cold, humans (maybe foolishly?) keep on keeping on. Milwaukeeans are some strong ass bitches, and regardless of how damn cold it gets in the morning, people are up at the bus stop at the crack of dawn- bundled under layers of insulated down and deep-piled fleece. Gloved hands fruitlessly attempt to text friends. Polar winds whip at beanie pom poms. Shop owners spread successive layers of salt over icy sidewalks. In some ways, the city sleeps during this time of year. But in other ways, it’s just as lively. Bars are packed- offering safe havens for frozen hands and livers desperately craving a blackout. Enclosed spaces like Milwaukee’s Public Market or Third Street Hall are packed to the gills. And on those rare sunny days with highs above 35- the city comes alive. On one such day in February, it almost felt like summer with how busy the sidewalks were with joggers, bikers, and families out for a stroll. One thing I’ve learned about Milwaukee is that although the winters can be tough bitches, Milwaukeeans are, undoubtedly, tougher bitches. Below, you’ll see a gallery of photos showing this stark beauty, followed by the radical transformation that this city makes once summer rolls around- and I promise you won’t wanna miss it! (Lol I sound like a used car salesperson. Or like someone on QVC trying to sell you some cheap plated silver necklaces like they’re the goddamn Hope Diamond at 3 AM on a public access channel. But seriously. Please keep reading).

  Milwaukee- February 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  Ahhhh- did you enjoy that? People talk a lot of shit about winter but the older I get the more I have love for it. Ok but let’s be so real- winter is great and all, but she sure as hell ain’t SUMMER. Now if you thought Milwaukee looked cool in February, hold onto your uvula because June will GAG YA. In a good way, not like a I’m-actually-choking-please-help-me way. So I was in Reno from about early April to early June and once I got back to Milwaukee it truly felt like a brand new bitch. It feels like a giant can of the most vibrant green paint exploded over the whole region, drenching hillsides in lush, deep emerald hues. A symphony of nature awaits at every corner- whether it be the jubilant overlapping melodies of songbirds, the steady energetic hum of a million insects, the frantic chittering of squirrels or the serenade of full leaf canopies blowing in the wind. Everything feels electric: turbo charged with the solar energy of longer days and warmer rays. The air itself feels different. Fragrant. Thick. Alive. On occasion powerful thundering storms roll across the landscape, bringing bruised skies, heavy deluges and the cacophonous CRACK of nearby lightning. We all stop to watch nature’s fury roll by from safely within our homes- whether we be a human, bird, or other critter. Oh!! And speaking of which, the wildlife?? Sis. I was not ready. Perched all along rocks through Milwaukee’s waterways you can find little turtles, basking in the warm afternoon sun. Massive, glittering dragonflies and damselflies play amongst the blooming water lilies. Terrifying, feral, prehistoric, bloodthirsty, roving gangs of turkeys prowl the city’s parks and streets, hungering for the taste of human flesh (don’t believe me? Check out the Tosa Turkeys– an especially notorious gang of gobblers terrorizing the city of Wauwatosa). Everyone’s favorite monarch butterflies even make an appearance- their iconic orange and black wings fluttering gracefully through numerous flowering shrubs. Most magical of all are the fireflies. Growing up on the west coast, I never experienced the mesmerizing splendor of experiencing fireflies on a summer night. This June I was finally able to witness it first hand. All I can say is it made me emotional. It’s an almost extraterrestrial beauty: a million sparkling lights of different colors, brightness, and size painting the night sky. Words can’t do it justice. Pictures can’t do it justice. I imagine everyone who has seen it remembers the time they first saw fireflies, because I know I’ll never forget. To my friends who haven’t seen it- COME VISIT BITCH. Like right now (well, not RIGHT right now because I’m not there but like, right now as in mid-late August. I think the fireflies will still be fireflying?? I sure hope so). Although I didn’t get any firefly pics (cause like….you just have to watch em) I hope you enjoy the pics I did take below. Milwaukee is a really special place with so much beauty (natural and manmade). Again I say- come VISIT BITCH.

  Oh! And if you’re still wondering why I say Milwaukee is a Gemini? Well obviously that means you don’t know your astrology to which I say read up hoe! But in all honesty- it’s because Milwaukee is multiple cities in one. It’s a city of stark beauty with frozen rivers, resilient residents and arctic winds. It’s a city of thunder, butterflies and perfumed summer air. It contains multitudes, just like us Geminis do. Some people say Geminis are crazy (correct), gregarious (correct) and two-faced (extremely incorrect) and I think that’s a pretty accurate assessment for Milwaukee. In summary: I’m grateful to be alive. I’m grateful to be a Gemini (heeyyyyyyy fellow Geminis!) I’m grateful to be able to experience Milwaukee in all of its phases. And I’m happy to be able to share them with you.

  Milwaukee- June 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  June 26, 2026

  architecture, fauna, flora, gay, midwest, Milwaukee, nature, photography, seasons, summer, travel, United States, winter, Wisconsin

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• Never has a place made my lil’ gay eyes twinkle like Hội An, Vietnam

  I’m writing this to you as I sit on a train in the middle of the Colorado wilds. And lemme tell you, nature has me feeling all sentimental and shit. And ready to FINALLY write about another place I was able to visit in Vietnam back in February (only what….4 months late?) As I mentioned in my last post, this year has been a fucking roller coaster. And somehow it’s only half done???! Some quick updates: mama has been doing well, we went wig shopping the other day (and she picked out a showstopper- I am so excited to see the hairs when they get delivered!!) and is set to start her 4th round of chemo next week. PLEASE SEND HER ALL OF YOUR LOVE. Love is a currency always accepted (I mean, like money or food is usually accepted as well buuuuuuut love works perfectly!) I’m heading back home for a few weeks to like, catch my breath and try and catch up on life shit, then I’m gonna be heading back to Reno to finish out the summer before the fall semester. Hence the train ride. You may be asking “Matt, why the train? Doesn’t it take 15,000 years when a plane could do it in 5 hours?” And you’d be right! The train does in fact take 15,000 years. But that is exactly the point. We’re travelling through some of the most spectacular landscapes on the planet at a wonderful, leisurely, anemically slow pace. Its giving me some time to reflect, and decompress, and make sure my head is screwed on right (well, as right as my head has ever been on right). And I can’t tell you how I’ve needed that. It’s giving me time to read (currently I’m reading a smutty time travelling Viking romance novel called ‘Rough and Ready’ and biiiitch lemme tell you it’s like I fell and had a major concussion while on Nyquil and Viagra and she is everything I need right now). It’s giving me time to do absolutely fucking nothing. It’s giving me the mental bandwidth to catch up on this blog! Which has been extremely lacking in content as of late. And that’s ok! But I finally feel ready and inspired again to make some posts here. So strap in, because biiiiitch I have been confined to a house for weeks and I’m ready to let the crazy FLOWWWWWWWWWWWWwwwWWWwwWwWwYh$$ *shakes tits uncontrollably*

  So you’re probably like omg FINALLY we get to hear about Hội An, the final chapter of Matt’s Vietnam tomfoolery. And we’ll get there! But first I wanna share this unhinged story about this one time when I was in drag and ran into this guy I knew from work at the bar. So this guy worked IT at one of my past jobs (shall remain unnamed heehee don’t sue me plz!!) and I had seen him once or twice but didn’t know he was one of the *whispers* gayyyyys. So anyways I’m in face and I see him and he comes up to me and is like omg do you work at redacted and I’m like ok first of all how DARE you clock me like that I know my makeup is good and this lighting is dark and you’re drunk and oh god am I having an existential crisis? But once I got over that immeasurable pain I was like yes I do work at redacted!! You’ve helped my dumbass multiple times with computer problems! What’s up sisterino? So he then makes one major mistake: he offers me some blow. Now let me preface this by saying I don’t do this shit anymore cause *looks around* I don’t trust any of the shit y’all bitches have nowadays and also I’m old and my joints and liver and brain and eyeballs and nose holes literally couldn’t handle it. But Matt at this point in time???? He was a menace. So anyways I’m like um yes duhhhh let’s go! So we go into the bathroom and do some. Through this, I learn that this guy kinda has a crush on me (he tells me this as I’m literally doing a keybump in a bathroom stall next to a malfunctioning urinal and I’m like omg is this love?). So I’m like omg thaaaaaaanks ✨🌈😉) Anyways, 5 minutes later we’re back out in the club and one of my drag sisters (who I knew also partook) came over and I was like omg IT coworker friend daddy, would you mind if my friend and I stole a lil bumpie in the bathroom? I flicked my massive drug store lashes, pursed my overdrawn lips, and his heart melted. Once he handed it over, it was game over. We then proceeded to do the entire amount of blow (in our defense it wasn’t a lot but still hehehehe oops!) and then sneakily left the club through the back exit. Fast forward: I’m back at work, and this guy comes to help with some IT issues. We briefly make eye contact and he quickly looks away. Now look: I don’t know whether to apologize, giggle, or turn and run as fast as I can. So because my brain is broken I do option D: just sit there, smile and wave like a baboon. I never talked to him again. Anyways….it kinda makes sense why I’m still single right??? So anyways this story has nothing to do with Hội An, but I’m sleep deprived and feeling a lil feisty and spicy and mentally unwell so here you are!

  Ok onto Hội An!!!!

  Hội An is ancient. It’s been around for centuries, perhaps millennia?? Situated at a strategic position on the Thu Bồn River where it meets Vịnh Cửa Bay, the city sits within a protected harbor roughly halfway up the Vietnamese coast facing the South China Sea. Surrounding the city are extremely productive fishing and agricultural lands. So like of course the city flourished, duh! Throughout history it’s acted as a major maritime hub and one of the most cosmopolitan cities in Vietnam, with merchants from China, Japan, India, Arabia and Portugal all leaving their mark on the city. This can be seen in the old city’s architecture which features strong influences from Japan (like the incredible Japanese Covered Bridge in the middle of town) and China (including places like the Cantonese Assembly Hall). Due to its seafaring heritage, the city is most well known for its lanterns. To help navigate the area’s complex and sometimes treacherous waterways, fishing boats and merchant vessels would use lanterns. This then carried over to the city itself, where lanterns in every color, shape, size and fabric are now used for decoration and utility. Hội An’s old town is now a multicolored cornucopia of hanging artwork, illuminating the night in a soft kaleidoscope of shapes and colors. It’s dazzling, magical, and honestly emotional. To capture a bit of this essence, I took a time lapse video while riding on the back of a golf cart through town at night (warning- if you get vertigo or anything like that I don’t recommend watching this).

  Hội An was by far my favorite city in Vietnam, simply because of how it made me feel. Nothing captured this grandeur of emotions more than Hội An Memory Land. Part theme park, part historical museum, part performance art center, Hội An Memory Land is a sprawling complex on an island in the middle of the Thu Bồn River which features massive lit structures (like the giant glowing fishing boat art piece shown in the photo gallery at the end of the post). The standout moment of Memory Land (by far) was the interpretive theatrical performance animating the history of the city. From it’s ancient roots as a fishing village, to the momentous 1306 wedding of Princess Huyền Trân (of the Viet people) and King Jaya Sinhavarman III (of the Champa people), to its role as the aforementioned cosmopolitan trading port, and finally highlighting the city’s position as a major textile center, specializing in fabricating the iconic Vietnamese ao dai. A small clip of this performance is below (a part of the final number, where the main narrator shows of theeeee most extra ao dai ever made. Like get into that fabric yardage you just know that shit cost a fortune and a half to make.) The production level was bonkers.net. Like there were massive choreographed numbers, huge set pieces, pyrotechnics, images projected onto mist, synchronized water shows, timed lighting built into walkways- the list could go on. What I’m getting at is that like many other things in Vietnam, this show is XXXTRA in the absolute best way possible. I was squealing like the entire time. I might still be squealing? I think this show made it a permanent state of being for me.

  My favorite part of Hội An? Night time by the river. When the sun sets and the lanterns light up, it’s a feeling of absolute and utter magic. Glowing lanterns strung between shops reflected in the glistening Thu Bồn River are joined by floating orbs of light as small boats glide across the water adorned with lanterns of their own. It felt like being in a freakin’ fairy tale, lemme tell ya.

  Beyond the city, the Hội An area boasts some truly incredible archaeological sites. I was able to visit Mỹ Sơn, a series of ancient Hindu temples built between the 4th and the 13th centuries. Abandoned several centuries ago, folks stumbled across portions of the site in the 1800’s and were like holy shit dafuq? And then did what archaeologists do best and swept away a bunch of dirt with little brushes and chisels to uncover some truly amazing shit!! The main site (Temple complex B) features several restored temple structures made of a gorgeous maroon stone featuring bas-relief sculptures of Hindu deities. The complex was constructed by the Champa peoples (Champa mention count: 2) who are the indigenous peoples of Southern Vietnam, with roots in neighboring Cambodia, and who practice Hinduism instead of Buddhism (as is the case with the Viet people). The Champa (count: 3) are frequently depicted in artwork and architecture by the symbol of an elephant, underscoring that animal’s importance to the Champa (count: 4) and the fact that elephants were more commonplace in this area of Southeast Asia in the past. Seeing things this old always really helps me readjust my perspective and reminds me that at the end of the day, none of this shit matters! Like, all of it matters (because it makes up our realities and lives) but in other time scales, none of it matters. Some people might find that depressing, but I find it immensely peaceful. The world will always keep moving on. Nothing is permanent. And Vietnam is a masterclass in moving forward.

  I hope one day I’m able to return to this magical place. To stroll the streets at night with an egg coffee as lanterns glide across the river and packs of annoying bitches take endless selfies (newsflash- they’re all ugly. Try a ring light next time ya ogre). To eat some bomb ass food with my friends. To enjoy another day on this beautiful planet we share. Hopefully I will get to share those memories with you all again here. Oh!! And next time I want to share another unhinged story. Do you want to hear about the time I chipped my tooth in Spain during a blackout and a random guy from Oklahoma ended up with my wallet? Or how about the time I learned by high school drama teacher thought I was hot while on a date with a different guy? Sound off in the comments below (like this post for Spain story, comment for high school teacher story). Either way- you win!!!

  Hội An, Việt Nam- February 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  June 7, 2026

  architecture, Asia, cuture, history, hoi an, LGBTQ, nature, photography, Southeast Asia, travel, vacation, Vietnam

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• No witty title- just reflection and gratitude: Đà Nẵng and Bà Nà Hills, Việt Nam

  Hey y’all- so this blog post is going to be a bit different than the ones I’ve posted in the past. When I started this blog, I wanted it to be an outlet for whatever I was feeling. A creative outlet, you could say. As is evidenced, most of the time my inner thoughts tend to be on the unhinged, deranged, gay, funny (I hope?) and generally mentally unwell side. As of late though, that hasn’t felt very sincere to me. As some of you already know, in March my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 squamous cell carcinoma. She’s been quite sick for a while, and after several months of going back and forth with medical providers (I could rant at length about how fucked up our medical system is and how they continue to discredit and minimize pain that women experience) they finally were able to diagnose the (main) problem. I can’t really express how fucked up it is to see someone who means the entire world to you go through something as painful and dehumanizing as advanced cancer. For anyone who has met my mom, you know what an absolutely unstoppable force of joy, creativity and love she is in this world. For anyone who hasn’t met her- you also know this because I am literally incapable of shutting the fuck up about how much I love her. The words “icon” and “legend” get thrown around so flippantly these days but let me tell you- my mom embodies both of those words in the fullest. She defined those words. Since I was a nugget, her (and my dad- shoutout to my amazing dad) instilled so much self love in us. They supported whatever ventures we (my brother and I) wanted to pursue. They never told us we couldn’t handle something, or that we weren’t able to do something we didn’t commit ourselves to, or that we weren’t capable of achieving our dreams. For god’s sake, my mom trusted me to put her in drag MULTIPLE TIMES. We even have an amazing photoshoot to prove it (pic below) (shoutout Tré for the amazing pics!)

  

  I say all of this to say that for the last month, my mind has been thinking about my mom, and only about my mom. My brother and I have been staying with them for the past few weeks (and will be for some time) to help with caretaking and frankly, nothing else has mattered to me. A lot of time has been spent reminiscing, watching old family videos, sharing stories, and talking a LOT of shit about a lot of people (mostly the Trump administration cause….duh). Through talking with my mom about some of our favorite memories and stories (including some spiiiiiicy stories of my mom in her past life as a party girl like lemme tell you Candy has some LORE) it’s become clear that regardless of what shit might be happening in the world, circumstances should never dull your shine. Through all of this, my mom has kept her sharp wit, her sense of humor, and her unstoppable heart. We’ve plucked our eyebrows together, and done the crosswords together, and retained just a litttttle bit of vanity (because truly, who ever wants to look a mess? Not my mom, that’s for damn sure). That feeling is what inspired me to share this post today. To keep telling our stories, and sharing the beauty of the world around us. And let me tell you, Vietnam has lore and beauty like no other.

  While there is so much that can be said about Đà Nẵng and the central coast of Vietnam, I’ll keep it concise. Đà Nẵng is Vietnam’s fourth largest city and is a rapidly growing, beach-side metropolis (think like, Miami and Dubai had a baby and that baby dropped acid). It hosts sweeping sandy beaches on the South China Sea and rugged, rocky mountains along the Sơn Trà peninsula. A massive statue of the Lady Buddha (who protects the oceans and those who traverse them) looks out over the bay from a dramatic vantage point on the peninsula. Along the Han River, neon skyscrapers in a kaleidoscope of colors paint a futuristic vision while the Cầu Rồng (or Dragon Bridge) snakes across the river like a living piece of architecture.

  Situated about 15 miles south of Đà Nẵng (between it and Hội An- which I’ll cover in another post here soon (hopefully)) lies Ngũ Hành Sơn (the Marble Mountains). Consisting of a series of steep limestone rock outcroppings which rise dramatically from the surrounding plain, the mountains have acted as sanctuaries for generations of residents as the surrounding land changed hands between multiple empires. Built into the mountains are a series of temples- some hugging their steep sides, some sculpted from caverns within the mountains themselves. While the pathways are steep, narrow, and quite precarious- the views are undeniably worth the danger.

  30 miles west of the city, perched high amongst the dramatic peaks of the Bà Nà Hills lies the most insane, extravagant, gawdy amusement park/tourist trap/monument to Instagram-worthy pics I’ve ever seen: the Bà Nà Hills Park. After taking a cable car up several thousand feet (literally through the clouds) you emerge at the top of the mountain. There amongst multiple peaks lie several roller coasters, arcades, dining halls, shopping areas, a replica European village, sculpture gardens, Buddist temples, and ornamental botanical gardens plucked straight out of Beauty and the Beast. The undisputed pinnacle, however, is the Golden Bridge. Consisting of a bridge perched atop two massive sculpted hands jutting from the sheer rock face of the mountain, the Golden Bridge is awe-inspiring, highly photographed, and slightly terrifying? The whole place has a surreal feeling to it. Floating above a sea of clouds, bathed in golden late-afternoon light while flocks of tourist jockey for the best selfie with their selfie sticks felt simultaneously heavenly and hellish. That being said, nothing compares to the peace, tranquility, and ethereal beauty of Bà Nà’s Chùa Linh Ứng (Buddhist temple) complex. Built into the steep hillside, the complex consists of several stone stairways accented with statues, pagodas and elaborate plantings leading down to a central temple. The temple (like so many others in Vietnam) is so architecturally ornate and detailed that as someone from a copy-paste suburban Sun Belt US city it’s really hard to comprehend the degree of craftsmanship. We arrived at sunset: as the sun slowly descended and the clouds transitioned from white, to gold, to deep indigo, a single gong rang out rhythmically from the temple. The sounds of the amusement park completely fell away. Staring out over the clouds listening to the gong, one couldn’t help but feel a profound peace. With oneself. With the reality- fucked up and beautiful- of the world. With everything. All I remember thinking is: I wish my mom could be here to see this with me.

  Reflecting on Vietnam, I can only sum up my feelings in one word: gratitude. Grateful to be able to visit somewhere so magical. Grateful to be able to access and be present in such beautiful locations within said country. Grateful to have a camera as a way to interact with the world and the beauty it possesses. Grateful for my friends and family, who help me in realizing my dreams. Grateful for my mom, who has always encouraged me to follow the things that bring me joy.

  As I wrap up this post I just want to stress- love on the people who love you. Be vulnerable with them. Be supportive of them. Share stories with them, and make each other laugh. Enjoy this world that we’re so lucky to be a part of. Oh, and don’t be an asshole.

  P.S: this mix I put together are some songs that make me think of my mom. You could say they’re quintessentially Candy. I hope you enjoy!

  Đà Nẵng and Bà Nà Hills, Việt Nam- February 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  April 26, 2026

  architecture, family, nature, photography, travel, Vietnam

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• Huế called me ugly, punched me in the face, spit on me and stole my credit card. It was the best experience of my life 🌈❤️

  Ok so when I say that “Huế called me ugly, punched me in the face, spit on me and stole my credit card. It was the best experience of my life” you know that I mean it metaphorically, right? Like, it didn’t actually call me ugly, punch me in the face, spit on me or steal my credit card. But metaphorically? Sis, I will NEVER RECOVER. And I mean that in the best way. Because *sharp inhale* Huế really changed me. Sure, I was only there for a few days. And sure, I may have a biiiit of a thrill for the dramatic (crazy to confess that right??) But it is truly such a wonderful city: steeped in centuries of Vietnamese lore, surrounded by verdant landscapes and chock full of some of the best food I have ever experienced in my LOIFE. And of course- a wedddinnnggggg. Some context: my good Judy Lily from Seattle got married in August and I was balls deep in a U-Haul on my way to Milwaukee when it happened. But guess what: A) Lily is a bad bitch, B) She was also having a family wedding in Vietnam, and C) she invited me! ME! Little ol’ me!! And let me just tell you when I say: Vietnam does NOT fuck around with their weddings. When I say this was a spectacle, I mean it was a SPECTACLE. Like, as in all capital letters. Like it’s being yelled. Because it was really giving Las Vegas meets Dubai in a K-hole. Let me list out a few things that were present at this ceremony:

  • 600 attendees
  • a big-ass multi-tiered champagne tower
  • pyrotechnics, including massive sparklers
  • bubbles streaming from the ceiling
  • a fog machine
  • dancers dressed as angels
  • an amazing live band
  • the most giant, over-the-top, Cinderella-esque gown I have ever seen
  • Lily’s talented singing mom who, while wearing a sparkling sequined ao dai, belted out a song to kick off the reception

  Don’t believe me? Clock the videos.

  Like y’all next time when I tell you something’s extra AF just believe me! But! Let’s make a hard left turn. I want to talk about the magnificence that is Huế. It’s not reaaaaally known when Huế was officially founded, however there’s evidence that folks have lived there for thousands of years. Throughout its millennia of existence, Huế has acted as a capital for multiple royal dynasties. The city itself is packed with ornate imperial monuments, with the centerpiece being the absolutely magnificent Imperial and Forbidden City (Hoàng Thành Huế): a massive walled complex within the center of Huế that contains several gates, palaces, courtyards, places of worship, a theater and gardens. The complex acts as a massive citadel, being walled with thick, sturdy ramparts (which now host a massive Vietnamese flag). Outside of these walls are moats, featuring gorgeous lily pads and which are bridged only at specific, heavily secured crossings. Each building within the complex is an architectural masterpiece. There’s the Meridian Gate (Ngọ Môn) which acts as a primary entry to the complex. What’s interesting about the architecture of this gate is the difference in roof tile colors: the side wings have green tiles, while the central structure has bright gold tiles. The color of tile dictates who was allowed to pass through that gate (gold tiles meaning only the imperial family could enter, green meaning the mandarin (or the advisors and political inner circle) could enter. As a bitch who loves to color code everything in my life (best believe I am wearing a set of multicolored highlighters OUT in school right now) I can’t tell you how much this appeals to me. After entering the gate, one sees the Thái Hòa Palace (Điện Thái Hòa) which was ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS on the inside but where folks were banned from taking photos. Trust me when I say that the amount of intricate gold leaf work on the interior was breathtaking- it was painted on columns, layered on every cornice and piece of trim, and absolutely drenched on a lil’ throne in the middle of the room. So extra, so beautiful (seems to be the theme of Vietnam in general, which I am very here for). The center of the complex contains multiple small temples, the Kiến Trung Palace (Điện Kiến Trung) which is a phenomenally ornate example of fused French-Vietnamese architecture, the Duyet Thi Duong Royal Theater (Nhà hát Duyệt Thị đường) which housed several unique Vietnamese instruments and performance costumes, and my favorite: The Northeastern Gate (Cửa Hiển Nhơn). When I tell you that I could have sat my happy ass down in the grass and stared at this gate for hours, I am not exaggerating. The amount of intricate carving, tile work, vibrant and graphic painting, metalwork and more is mind blowing. As with everything else here, I wish I had more time to truly admire her.

  Beyond the Imperial/Forbidden City, Huế is densely packed with other historic sites. There’s Thiên Mụ Pagoda (Chùa Thiên Mụ): a pagoda built in 1601 and its adjoining Buddhist temple complex including a plaza filled with micro-scale water gardens planted in these gorgeous blue and white ceramic planters. If you’re having a hard time visualizing what a micro water garden is, let me explain: imagine a large rectangular basin filled with water, with a rock placed in the middle with a small amount of soil along the base of the rock. On top of the rock is a small evergreen tree (visually similar to bonsai, but not trained or trimmed to form specific shapes). In the water are lilies, grasses, and other aquatic plants. Along the edge of the rock in the soil are small flowers, grasses, bamboo and figurines. In some of these basins small fish swim about. Lizards cling to the rock, while birds eye the fish hungrily. The elaborate ecosystems created in such confined spaces were really fascinating and a joy to sit and watch. Again, I could have spent hours just sitting there. In the temples themselves, curls of incense smoke hung in the air, fragrant and calming. Deep-toned bells were struck rhythmically. Folks bowed and prayed to a large golden Buddha statue in the center of the room, surrounded by flowers. Annoying ass tourists got in the middle of the calm to snap selfies (like literally right in front of people praying, for fuck’s sake). All the selfies turned out terribly because they are indeed trash humans and GOD DON’T LIKE UGLY (trademarked by Velicity Dior Black). Outside of the temple, bright red paper Lunar New Year decorations fluttered lazily in the wind, hung from flowering trees. The entire scene was chaotic and densely packed with people, yet also deeply calming: a testament to the talented architects, gardeners, groundskeepers, artists, and monks who have curated such a magical space. Around the corner is Mandarin Coffee and Restaurant- a small, peaceful collection of ornate wooden structures with tiled roofs surrounding a gorgeous central courtyard with vibrant, fragrant flowering plants, ponds, fountains, and patios. One building was constructed around a massive tree- the tree literally is built into the wall. Again- although the space was packed full of people, it was so peaceful. It’s really incredible how the overstimulation of a busy world can be stripped away with some well placed water features. I see your game, Vietnam.

  Perhaps even more outstanding than Huế city itself are its surroundings: to the east, the flatlands of the Perfume River give way to beaches as the river meets the South China Sea. But to the west, the plains give way to steep, rolling hills and deeply carved river valleys. Dotted throughout these hills are countless graveyards, tombs and mausoleums- both grand and small. Family grave plots line the roads out of town with small, beautifully designed raised tombs. Grander are the magnificent burial complexes of Vietnam’s emperors from the Nguyễn dynasty- Vietnam’s last imperial family ruling from 1802 until 1945* (asterisk because the French colonized Vietnam starting in the late 1800’s so the emperors of the latter years really had limited power and many times were figureheads. Stupid fucking French amirite?). During this reign, the 13 emperors moved the seat of Vietnam’s power back to Huế (it had previously been moved to Hanoi) during which many of the city’s incredible monuments were constructed. Because the city sits at a low elevation along a major river (the Perfume River- like can we talk about how cunty that name is???) it is extremely prone to flooding, and so Huế’s citizens (royal and common) built their family’s tombs in the protected hills to the west of town. Because of the city’s long history, concentration of burial complexes and spiritual significance, folks say it has a powerful energy: bordering on spooky and magical (according to the aforementioned bad bitch Lily). She compared it to how the U.S. views New Orleans- a nexus of the weird, spooky, spiritual, haunting, healing, culturally significant and undoubtedly unique. Walking through the elaborate compounds, it’s impossible not to feel the weight of centuries of history bearing down on you (and there’s the 1000349359% humidity in the air too, there’s also that. Humidity and spirits make for a potent combo lemme tell ya). A couple of the highlights from this fascinating region:

  • The Mausoleum of Emperor Gia Long (Lăng Hoàng đế Gia Long): a multiacre site situated in the rolling, verdant hills south of the village of Định Môn. The collection of stunning buildings is built around a central pond, covered with water lilies and a bunch of lil’ fishes. The tomb of his empress Thuận Thiên is in the same complex (although in a much less elaborate building….fucking sexism amirite?) Oh!! And there were the cutest lil water buffalo here! I wanted to ride one so bad but then I realized I would literally get gored in two seconds and didn’t want to spend my whole trip with oozing chest wounds so decided against it. But fuck they were so adorable. And they were making puppy eyes at us the whole time 🥲one day you will be my BEST friend, little water buffalo
  • The Mausoleum of Emperor Minh Mang (Lăng mộ Hoàng đế Minh Mạng): a tomb complex constructed in a single straight line with several sets of stairs up and down the main buildings. Being surrounded by bodies of water on both sides, the sight lines on this bad boy are immaculate. Like, you can be standing in the middle of this gorgeously designed shrine and, looking out both sides, have clear view straight down the walkway to other similarly gorgeously designed shrines. And like bitch I know this is just me repeating myself for the 10,000th time but the LEVEL OF DETAIL IN THE WOODWORK of these buildings just took mah damn breath away. Fully. Completely. Call it asthma, call it whatever you like. But I was fully breathless.
  • The Mausoleum of Emperor Khải Định (Lăng Hoàng đế Khải Định): Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch. Where do I even start with her? So ok, this site has got to be one of the most extravagant, opulent, marvelous, excessive, grandiose, mind-blowingly intricately handcrafted things I’ve ever seen in my life. I mean first of all the setting- built into a steep hillside and consisting of three terraced pavilions, the mausoleum complex is sculpted primarily out of a striking dark stone. Contrasted against this are neon red and yellow flowers, which already creates such an animated visual contrast. But the real treat is inside. Stepping into the main mausoleum structure is like stepping into a house-sized jewelry box while tripping on acid. Tiles of all shapes, sizes, and colors glitter on the walls. And I mean- the ENTIRE wall. ALL of them. The inside of this building is intricate, floor to ceiling, three-dimensional mosaic work depicting things like trees, birds, dragons, flowers, buildings, and everything in between. And beyond that, the mothaeffin’ ceiling is painted!! In some really cool psychadelic swirls and geometric patterns. Like c’mon nowwww- you know a bitch loves her psychadelic swirls and geometric patterns. Look……you know I like to say I’d want to sit somewhere and stare at something for hours, right? But bitch…..when I tell you that I REALLY wanted to sit there and stare at the walls for literal days….I’m only somewhat joking (cause like…food??) But my lord, the astonishing craftsmanship that went into detailing every square millimeter of this structure is so beyond words. And when I learned that the emperor buried here was allegedly guh-guh-guh-gay? Well a) I already knew cause hello, the taste level is immaculate, and b) QUEEEEEEN. Apparently Emperor Khải Định never wanted a wife, only had one son (who ended up being the last of the 13 emperors in the Nguyễn dynasty), was rumored to have hooked up with multiple male advisors and noblemen, and painted his nails?? ONE. OF. US. Also- shoutout to his beard (I mean the lavender marriage beard, not the facial hair variety). Like, shoutout to ALL the beards out there. Lemme just take a moment to express my undying love and appreciation for anyone who has ever been someone’s beard. I hope you know how loved you are, how valued you are for not only saving so many people from ridicule and societal exile, but you legitimately have saved so many queer lives. I feel like beards never get the love and appreciation they are owed but seriously, for any beard out there: thank you for your service 🫡 On another note, real-talk: Khải Định was actually really fucked up. Like he allied with the French in the oppression of his own people to maintain his own status and life of luxury and prioritized the construction of his mausoleum over making meaningful improvements to like, prevent mass starvation. So, while we love the gayness, we hate the fact that he’s a massive piece of shit. Anyways, people are multi-faceted, nothing in this world is black and white, and I’m just grateful for the fact that this exquisite piece of architecture has been retained as a testament to all of the talent and labor of the craftspeople who worked on it. Khải Định: you and your painted nails can fuck right off.

  I just want to stress again how meaningful this trip was for me. Being able to experience such a magnificent corner of the world that has such reverence for their past and has zero qualms with being extra as fuck was so soothing for my soul. I can’t tell you how fantastic Lily and her entire family are (and how terrible and cringey my attempts at speaking Vietnamese with them were) and what a fucking D.I.V.A. (aka the female version of hustla) Lily is. Like, find me another person who is glamorous enough to be standing in a massive, custom tailored Cinderella princess gown in front of 600 people while also being relatable enough to make eye contact with us during said glamourous moment and mouth “I don’t know what to do!”? Please, I challenge you to find them. I’ll wait. I’m also just so grateful to be alive, and to be able to explore a new corner of this infinitely intriguing, surprising, thought-provoking, and beautiful planet we share. Especially one with such bomb. ass FOOOOOOOOD. OHMYGUR the fresh rolls??? The banh mis??? The prawns the size of your fist??? Oh also I ate MEAT intentionally for the first time in like, 18 years. Because why the hell not? When you’re in Vietnam, you gotta try new things. And I don’t regret it for a goddamn second.

  P.S. I said I ate meat intentionally for the first time in 18 years because this one time in 2019 when I was blackout drunk I accidentally ate an entire to go container of my friend’s nachos (shoutout Livbird I love youuuuuu) which had meat thinking they were my sweet potato and black bean nachos, which were right next to it in the fridge. My other roommate (shoutout Callen heyyyyy) tried to tell me multiple times that they were not, in fact, my nachos and that I was about to ingest meat. But blackout Matt was having NONE OF IT. So yeah…..besides that one time, Vietnam was the first time!

  P.S.S: Life has been a lot lately. I won’t get into it here and now but….just know that 2026 has been a fucking asshole who I don’t want to take on a second date or event text back. But I have to say: writing this has been cathartic for me. And I’m just so grateful to be able to document and share such incredible beauty with you all. Thanks for sticking around, and I pinky pwomise I’ll get the rest of my Vietnam adventures uploaded soon. That’s legally binding y’know! In the meantime, please enjoy all of the beauty of Huế.

  Huế, Việt Nam- February 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  March 26, 2026

  architecture, Asia, history, Hue, nature, photography, Southeast Asia, travel, Vietnam

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• Chicago is, was, and forever will be: THAT. BITCH.

  Have you ever been somewhere and the most beautiful, majestic, regal bitch you’ve ever lied eyes on walks in the room and your breath is snatched completely out of your lungs, your wig ripped from your bald scalp, and your credit score demolished right before your very eyes? That is the power that is Chicago. She is, and forever will be, THAT BITCH. Chicago truly is unlike anywhere else on earth. Whether it be the dramatic jagged skyline reaching into the clouds visible from miles away in every direction. Or the astounding density of architectural marvels that one can encounter in any block. Or the absolute queerness of it all. Or the trains (I mean as in transportation, ya fuckin’ freaks). And I looooooove trains!!! (and I mean both meanings, ya prudes!) I imagine one could spend a lifetime in Chicago and still never fully know her. She is deep, and layered, and loving, and creative, and scarred, and a hard ass, and full of emotion (good and bad) and sometimes smells weird. But honestly, who doesn’t??

  I won’t bore you with a general history lesson of Chicago (because let’s be real, I am certainly not qualified to give one) but what I do want to do is share some of my favorite learnings from my last few times visiting. So sit down, take a bong rip, chug some Nyquil, do some Kegels, and get comfy cause it is Matt Storytime Hour™️!

  October 2015. Imagine me, Matt, as a spry young twink just fresh out of college and ready to explore the world. Tax burden and heartburn and joint pain hadn’t yet made their appearance in my life (they make their grand entrance in the third act, so stay tuned!) Obama was still president. It bears repeating: OBAMA WAS STILL PRESIDENT. Anyways- Matt 1.0 (how I will refer to Matt in the 2015 era) flew to Chicago to spend time with some friends he’d made that year (Gerina, Brooke, Sam and Annemarie- I love you bbs!) Touching down in O’Hare, I was whisked away to the magical community of Naperville. Naperville is a suburb of about 150,000 people located about 30 miles west of downtown Chicago. Originally a pioneer outpost, Naperthrill grew quickly in the 1960’s – 2000’s as a major Chicago suburb. It’s leafy, and spread out, and has some nice suburban homes, and a cute lil’ downtown, and some office parks, and that’s about it. So why, you ask, was I whisked away here? Cause the ICONIC Shmancy (name modified to protect privacy lolol) (aka Brooke’s mom) lives there and she let me stay! (Thanks Shmancy!) Needless to say, most of the time in Naperchill was spent getting stoned to the mothafuckin’ bone with the girls and watching silly movies (aka the most perfect evening imaginable). BUT! Naperkill also happens to be right on a prominent rail line to downtown Chicago, meaning one can buy a cheap lil Metra ticket (I think back then it was like $1.50?) and BAM! You’re in the thick of it. So the next morning Matt 1.0 was on that train getting ready for ✨adventure✨. Now let me tell you- October in Chicago is GORGEOUS. It’s sunny, and warm (but with a tiny lil crisp in the air) and the cicadas have finally shut the fuck up and it’s just perfect. So I spent all day walking around downtown with the girls- going to the big reflective bean, checking out Navy Pier, getting some bomb ass food, just being GAY ya know? This was my first true Chicago day and let me tell you, it was pure magic. Over the next couple days I got to explore Boystown and Rogers Park (and spent a memorable evening at Berlin Nightclub where me and Annemarie took some cute photos- RIP Berlin </3 ) and got to explore many of the neighborhoods on the north side. Honestly my lil brain was just drenched in serotonin. Flooded. Serotonin-logged, if you will. So even within a few days, Chicago held my heart. It would be several moons before I would see my love again. Many unspeakable horrors happened during that time (aging. It was aging). But I was steadfast in my belief that I would return. And return I would.

  Now, let’s fast forward just a lil tiddlywink to Matt 4.0 (Matt 2.0 and 3.0 will be discussed at a later time, don’t you worry. I can’t show all my cards at once, can I really now??) February 2026. Mere weeks ago. Imagine it- a much less spry, much less twink-esque Matt finds himself back in the windy city to celebrate my iconic friend Vee’s birthday (aka THEE VEE that I hosted drag brunch and karaoke with in Seattle. Yes, THAT Vee.) Vee’s incredible partner (shoutout Courtney!) plotted a big ol’ surprise party for Vee at their place right under Vee’s nose. And lemme tell you- there were some CLOSE CALLS. Someone seriously run this girl her Oscar. So picture this- as the birthday girl approaches, there’s a house full of like 30 drunk, loud ass queer people trying their best to not make a peep. Somehow, someway, by the grace of Grace Jones we didn’t blow our cover, but I truly thought it was a wrap. Now when I tell you I haven’t been to a good old fashioned house party like this in a MINUTE, I’m not joking. There were such good tunes, and snacks, and bevvies, and VIBES. I even drank! A cocktail! Made with gin, soda water and Emergen-C! Yes- the powder you put in drinks to not get sick- THAT Emergen-C. And like, you’re probably thinking wow what kind of foul bitch would do that. To which I answer- this foul bitch. And you know what? The drink did in fact slap. Not only did the flavor profiles really compliment each other, but my immune system was as strong as a Belarussian ox afterwards. Gin and Emergen-C literally will sterilize anything inside or adjacent to you, build up your immunity, give you a firm pat on the ass and send you on your merry way. Besides the bubble of absolute queer joy that was this party (srsly tho shoutout Courtney for putting that together), this most recent visit to America’s second city (suck a dick LA!) was fantastic. I got to spend some quality time with Charlie and Sam and we bopped around Wicker Park (which is a really cool lil area of town I’ve never been to!) The neighborhood is dense, has some incredible architecture, and has a bunch of cool stores. A standout was Myopic Books– three floors of pure unadulterated gay literary mayhem. I found some truly incredible finds like an old book of Erté visuals (for anyone who doesn’t know, Erté was a Russian-French artist who was a huge presence in the art and fashion scene in the 1920’s and is truly one of my gay creative inspirations). In addition, I got an Agatha Christie book cause duh, a 1970’s horror book about a cursed Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff film that kills anyone who watches it, and a lil’ book called the Butch Manual. For obvious reasons. Besides gettin’ all booked up, I got to explore some of Wicker Park’s incredible architectural landmarks- a standout was the row of mansions along Pierce Avenue, including the Hermann Weinhardt house. Afterwards, we headed out to Garfield Park, a grand park on Chicago’s west side right off the green line. In addition to housing an absolutely incredible, ornate, 24-karat gold plated dome (seriously- its real gold. The folks working there confirmed it) Field House, the park is home to the massive Garfield Park Conservatory. Now, I don’t know if y’all have had the opportunity to visit Chicago’s parks, but this city does NOT FUCK AROUND WITH THEIR PARKS. Like the amount of work that went into constructing the ornate 1920’s Field House alone is insane. And it’s still being used as a gym and community center, which is awesome! Back in the day there was a horsetrack in the park where quaint old 1920’s folks would bring their horses to race around and get wasted and get into fights with each other, like turn of the century Nascar. But before we totally blow our load, we have to acknowledge the absolute star of the show here- the Conservatory. Built in 1907, the massive 4.5 acre complex of greenhouses contains thousands of plant species from around the world, including rare cacti, palms, ferns, bromeliads, orchids, euphorbia, and so so so much more. I cannot begin to explain to you in words how magical this place is. Each room is a massive, glass-enclosed fairytale wonderland transporting you to a faraway dreamscape with massive, alien-looking plants, ponds with glass art and koi fish, intricate wrought iron trellises with flowering vines, massive hanging staghorn ferns, and a room so fragrant with intoxicating floral scents that I wanted to pull out my poppers, chug the bottle, and pass out right then and there like Dorothy in the poppy fields in the Wizard of Oz. There’s also a gorgeous tiled Moorish-style fountain in the main room. So basically- it EATS. No, that’s not enough. It DEVOURS. If you’re visiting, I can’t tell you how important it is that you drop literally whatever it is you’re doing (except like, maybe your steering wheel if you’re driving, don’t do that) and head out to the park.

  Anyways, because it’s been a while and I feel like I haven’t been able to be unhinged with y’all and it’s eating me alive from the inside, I wanted to share the story about the time I hooked up with someone while watching Shrek. I met this guy in Seattle who was from Reno and we immediately trauma bonded because, duh. We went and got some bomb ass margaritas and then went back to his place. One thing led to another and we’re fooling around and for some reason, my brain is like “Matt- ask him to put on Shrek for background noise”. So, because I’m very unwell, I ask him to do it. Like as we’re making out. So he does it and my mind, feeling at peace, is like ok we can continue. Fast forward a few minutes and we’re doing stuff (I won’t go into the details here because there may be CHILDREN reading this blog but honestly if there are how the actual fuck did you end up here I am so so so so sorry for the trauma I’m causing you please log off immediately, destroy your phone, and tell your parents you need to become Amish and distance yourself as far as possible from technology because in all honesty how the hell did you end up here? What possible keyword could a gen alpha person have searched to get here? Like I don’t have a single mention of anything related to 6 7 or Roblox or Billy Eilish or whatever the fuck they’re into. Ohmygod wait now those things are mentioned here and maybe their algorithm is like ‘hey check out this blog where this ancient homo mentioned 6 7 we think you’ll like it’. SHIT I just said 6 7 again. Oh well. Anyways, where was I?) Oh yeah, Shrek sex. So anyways we’re doing stuff and then in the middle of things all I hear is “DONKEH!!!!!!!” And like y’all, I’m sorry but no matter what may have been happening once I hear that phrase I am going to stare straight at the TV like a meerkat sensing a hawk overhead. Or like if I was a sleeper cell agent and DONKEH was my trigger word. Who knows, maybe it is? I guess we’ll find out tomorrow. Note for tomorrow Matt: if you wake up covered in someone else’s blood in a place you don’t recognize with no memories of the past 12 hours, then you have confirmation that you’re a sleeper cell agent and DONKEH is your trigger word. Anyways WOW this really got away from me! Maybe it goes without saying but after that night we never talked again. Ahh, fun times.

  Moral of the story is: Chicago is a celebration of greatness, a layered story of loss, and a lighthouse of resilience. I plan on posting several more galleries (and stories!) of her as I spend more time there (also check out my other gallery I do have of her on the blog here). If there’s any one spot I recommend you go visit immediately it’s the Garfield Park Conservatory. And DONKEH fills me with insatiable bloodlust.

  Chicago- Winter 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  February 15, 2026

  architecture, chicago, gay, history, illinois, midwest, nature, photography, plants, shrek, travel, United States

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• Reno: My Heart. My Soul. My Trauma. My Hole.

  Oh, Reno: you sun-kissed, rough-edged siren of the Sierra. The tawdry fiberglass glitter of your casinos. The folds of your foothills half clad in snow. The patchwork of fast food signs, car dealerships, medspas, dispensaries, cash advancement scams and churches along your thoroughfares. The Truckee River: both a silvery stampede threatening to jump it’s banks in December and an anemic, sluggish ribbon of life in August. The excessively excited exclamations of your neighborhood grocery store’s slot machines when someone “wins” big. The hollow whispers of the desert breeze as it whips through sagebrush and pinions across the ridges. The neon fire of the skies at sunset. Through the years Reno has developed a bit of an infamous reputation but it is so much more than a punchline. While Reno is definitely trash (don’t get it twisted), it’s impossible to ignore the treasure that it also is. I will fight tooth and nail to defend the place that raised me. Reno isn’t a joke- it’s MY joke. Get it right. Or I’ll find you. And come for you. And your hometown. And hey, at least Reno isn’t LaS vEgAs *barfs*.

  When you move away from somewhere, it becomes frozen in memory. An old photo on someone’s Facebook page. A dusty polaroid in your car’s glovebox. A petroglyph on an exposed rock face. It can be jarring to return to see that, despite what your brain tells you, places change when you’re not looking. It’s kinda like we never truly develop object permanence. I try and come back to Reno every year because A: family, duh, B: friends, duh, and C: I never want Reno to be something to me that’s not real. Although I never (at least at this point in my life) want to move back, I also never want to forget this place. It means way too much to me. Returning this year has felt especially jarring in some ways. I learned that an old childhood friend (and my first crush) committed suicide. Which, can I be honest, has me really shook. It’s horribly depressing. I hadn’t talked to them in decades, but there’s a part of my brain still combing back through memories trying to look for the signs. For any sign. But when thinking about it, it’s similar to the small things that change when you’re gone. Trees die and get cut down. Buildings fall vacant and get repaired or demolished- replaced with something shiny and new. Loved ones leave, taking memories with them. New people arrive, waiting to make their own memories. Things change: it’s an inevitability of life. That doesn’t make it any less painful, or confusing, or frustrating, or beautiful. When you return home after so long, it’s inevitable to see ghosts. The club you used to get drunk at and dance on the club manager’s car in a strip mall next to an aquarium parts supply store (ok that was me at Tronix- which will definitely be getting a mention later) has permanently closed. Your childhood home has a new color and a different yard. The desert you wandered in as a kid, marvelling at the arroyos carved by runoff is now another copy and paste subdivision (this one called Ridgeline at Caramella Ranch- can you think of something more suburban and waspy???). Anyways- I think what I mean to say is these annual pilgrimages back to the homeland for me are cathartic. And regardless of how much time has passed and how much of the world I’ve seen, Reno will always and forever be my #1 dom top daddy. I mean, how can it not be?? For god sakes there’s a demonically possessed, carnival themed casino downtown called Circus Circus with a giant, terrifying lit up clown sign where one can black out on Vodka red bulls and buy airbrushed shirts on a Tuesday afternoon. How does one compare to that??? Anyways, I wanted to dedicate this post to the place who made me, the people who made me, and where I will always be rooted to.

  Founded in the 1850’s as nothing more than a stopping point on the Truckee River, Reno grew super slowly when compared to neighboring boomtowns (for example in the 1870’s neighboring skank ass Virginia City (of the Comstock Lode fame) had 25,000 residents while Reno wouldn’t hit that mark until World War Two- 70 years later). That being said, Reno was truly a bitch with longevity, whose position along a vital transportation link to California (just over the mountains and who was experiencing MASSIVE growth) ensured that there were always people coming through.  And come thru they did!! As the 1800s bled into the 1900’s Reno entered its own new era: that of being the divorce capital of the world.

  So just in case you don’t already know- Nevada has long been known for its laissez-faire politics. Some call it the wild west. Some call it libertarianism. Me? I call it fucking unhinged. So back at the turn of the century, Nevada had pretty lax, progressive laws (for the time) regarding divorce. Many places outright wouldn’t let you get divorced. Some places had such extreme requirements for it that many people (especially women) couldn’t file themselves. And in true Nevada fashion, oppression meant an opportunity to profit. In 1931 Nevada loosened these laws even more, meaning that anyone could file as long as they established residency in the state for 6 weeks. So a whole hospitality economy flourished where folks (including a high percentage of women) would travel to Reno, stay there for six weeks, file for divorce and return home. And these folks needed lodging. And entertainment. And booze. And food. And all the other things someone freshly single may need. Reno also reaaaaaally wanted to try and keep people in town bc like, girl no one wanted to stay here. So amenities were built. And things like a beautiful main post office (still around to this day) and the first hotels and all that good stuff. And it (kinda) worked?? Reno grew, albeit slowly. But Reno was reaaaaaally put on the map with the ✨gambling✨of it all.

  1931 really was a landmark year for Nevada. Not only did it loosen the divorce laws, but it legalized gambling in response to the economic flop of the Great Depression. And because people really like to lose all their money in stupid ways, it took off!! As all those divorcees stayed in Reno, they gambled at the city’s new casinos. And lost their money. And then kept losing their money. And then had to stay in town because they couldn’t afford to leave. Honestly, kind of a genius way to achieve growth? Trap people into cycles of poverty so they don’t have any other option? Ahhhh- capitalism. Anyways! Reno did that, and then realized holy shit, we’re bringin’ in a lot of money this way. So then they decided to throw each and every one of their eggs into this tacky, cigarette smoke stained basket. The casinos realllly blossomed in the middle of the 20th century. And the shows?? HONEY. The casinos brought in THEE shows. (Fun fact- my dad moved to Reno because he was a musician who got booked in a lot of these shows. He got to work for people like Cher and Charo and Dionne Warwick. Honestly- so iconic. Shoutout to you dad). Reno was truly Vegas before Vegas was a thing. Vegas was a nasty little mafia pimple on the face of the Mojave Desert when Reno was prancing around in ostrich feathers and rhinestones like the belle of the ball. Now Vegas has graduated to a massive ingrown hair on the back of the Mojave while Reno is….well….living in someone’s basement talking about the good ol’ days. But that’s ok!! Because we still love her. Just not Vegas. Never, EVER love Vegas. Vegas is the shadow realm. If you look into its eyes, it will pounce. It smells fear. And cheap knockoff Armani cologne.

  Ok and now that brings us to Reno’s newest era: the ‘How-the-fuck-do-we-try-and-do-anything-besides-gambling-before-it-all-collapses-and-we’re-reduced-to-Atlantic-City-because-fuck-no-one-wants-to-be-Atlantic-City-not-even-Atlantic-City-wants-to-be-Atlantic-City-please-help-fuck-do-we-give-tax-breaks-to-Tesla-we-should-probably-give-tax-breaks-to-Tesla-that-will-fix-everything’ era. The era of the warehouse. The era of the university’s insatiable growth (like damn does this bitch have a tapeworm or something?) The era of subdivisions named things like Ridgeline at Caramella Ranch. Or Mason Ridge at Bella Vista Ranch. Or The Cliffs at Somersett. Or Lennar at Sendero at Pioneer Meadows (yes these are all real names). Or basically whatever bullshit name they make up to describe the land they destroyed in order to build whatever overpriced, cheap ass housing they’re building. If you can’t tell, I’m only slightly jaded. And duh- we need housing!! But like, can’t it be somewhat inspired? Can’t it actually try and preserve some semblance of a natural ecosystem instead of funneling it all into a culvert? And- god forbid- can’t it be AFFORDABLE? But I’d be stupid to say it’s all bad. This growth has brought in so many amazing new folks with experiences and perspectives that Reno has loooong needed. There’s a ton of new public art which is cool I guess! There’s more bike lanes and protected bus stops and little things that improve quality of life. I just wish that more of all that new money coming in actually went to helping folks here who really need it (like folks living in motels, or on the streets, or who just immigrated here) instead of, I don’t know, continuing to incentivize people like bitch ass Jacobs Entertainment.

  Anyways, I digress. I will always love Reno for what it is, what surrounds it (I mean Lake Tahoe HELLLURRRRR8xawh8NAD??) and the fact that there is truly no other place on earth like it. The trash is what makes Reno the treasure. The beauty is in the pungent cigarette smoke stained 80’s carpeting that is Reno’s floor. The beauty is the abandoned KMart shopping cart alongside the Truckee River- with views of the majestic Sierras in the background. The beauty is in Reno’s cultural legacy like The Misfits or Reno 911 . The beauty is in the deranged ads that only locals will know, like Roller Kingdom or any from piece of shit “lawyer” Joey Gilbert or any of the Brite Glass ads. The beauty is in the way that the cottonwood trees along the river dance in the wind during summer, shedding their signature white (highly allergic) fluff, creating their own layer of August snow. The beauty is in things like this Reddit post for Suzie’s Adult Superstore. I love you and your bright lights, sagebrush, Sierra sunsets, bomb ass Mexican food and lack of last call at the bar.

  I am Reno and Reno is I.

  Reno- January 2026

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  January 1, 2026

  architecture, casino, desert, great basin, high desert, mountains, nature, nevada, photography, reno, travel, western united states

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• Somehow We Made It Through 2025 (Let’s Squeal Like Piglets In Celebration)

  Do you ever have those moments where you think “Why am I here? How did I get here? How did I survive this long? I can’t believe it’s not butter?” Recently, I’ve been asking myself these questions often (especially the last one). If you would have asked teenage Matt where he’d be in 2026, he would’ve answered “dead”. And only slightly jokingly. As a teenager, the thought of being in my 30’s was as foreign a concept as heterosexuality. I honestly never felt like I could see a life for myself beyond the immediate day to day. Teenage angst and short-sightedness? Definitely. Depression? Absolutely. Not having a single fucking clue what I was doing in life and feeling completely out of control? 100%. The older I get (as I’m sure we’d all agree) the more confident I’ve become in myself, and also the more at peace with the uncertainty of the world and lack of control we have in our lives. I think so often the idea of what we think our life should be fights tooth and nail against the reality of the situations we find ourselves in and we beat ourselves up about it mercilessly. And like sis, who has time for that? There’s already an entire government trying to beat you down (unless you’re a cis white man tbh). There’s the media (mainstream, social and whatever the fuck Joe Rogan is) peddling the narrative that you’re not enough. Whether that be beautiful enough. Or fit enough. Or virile enough. Or rich enough. Or whatever the eff it may be. Then you have the fact that we’re all chained to this capitalist system we’ve invested in as a society, forcing us to spend our days making money for others (who, most of the time, are so wealthy they will never have to experience crisis situations in their life) to afford a roof over our heads, and health insurance, and (god forbid) some tomfoolery. We got enough going on, shit! And I’m not saying this to say that “oh, you just shouldn’t doubt yourself because you don’t have the time to waste”. Instead I’m saying the opposite- the system is designed for you to doubt yourself. Instead, we have to support each other. Inject kindness and supportiveness and empathy into your daily interactions with people, whether you know them or not. Give folks a nod when you walk by. Shake your ass in the street. Spit on a Nazi’s face. Ya know, the little things that keep this threadbare societal fabric somewhat held together.

  Speaking of barely clinging to sanity- have y’all ever watched the show Passions? It’s a late 1990’s TV soap that is absolutely deranged and campy and features witchcraft and Princess Diana and a talking doll and drug cartels and identical twins and a prom boat that gets sunk by this white bread teenager named Charity who gets evil powers from a pendant and shoots lightning bolts out of her hands. (Here– please watch this blessed media so you have it as a reference forever in your life. It’s absolutely incredible.) Anyways, I bring up Passions not only because it is pure, unadulterated, campy chaotic fun but also because each season lasts like, 100 episodes and it helps me feel like the runaway, exponentially accelerating speed of life and the universe gets slowed down just a teensy bit. Typically like 10-15 episodes will take place over the span of three days, repeating the same absurd events repeatedly and then referencing them multiple times in flashbacks. In the Passions universe, time has no meaning. It stretches and contracts like water in the cracks of pavement as it freezes and thaws, gradually prying apart the foundational blocks of reality like one massive early 2000’s Nyquil fever dream. As you watch it, it’s like staring into the abyss. Into the void. And the void always looks back at you. Sometimes in the dead of night, I can hear its penny whistle theme song quietly whispering to me. Telling me to go into the living room and turn on the TV and watch season 2 episode 256. Oftentimes I indulge. If I hesitate or fight its siren call, it yells at me in a long-dead language. It’s been my happy place this winter break.

  So obbbbbviously I’m doing great right? Teehee! *twitches*. But wow- 2025- what a year am I right? I remember wondering in January how the fuck we would get through this year. Somehow we made it, and I’m still not really sure how. So much has happened. Both in the world (mostly terrible) and in our own personal spheres (hopefully mostly not terrible?) Friends got married. Friends split up. People moved (including me!!!). People graduated, and gave birth, and discovered they were pregnant, and went to rehab, and bought houses, and bought bars, and fell in love, and fell out of love, and got pets, and started new jobs, and left jobs, and went on vacations, and started art projects, and baked delicious foods, and baked not delicious foods too. We watched sunsets in all kinds of places. We watched the seasons change- from rain to sun to wind to snow and back again. We watched the stars. We watched plants, and pets, and relatives grow. We may have had loved ones leave us. We’ve all been marked in some way, shape or form. To help make sense of it all, my favorite way of marking the passage of time this year (at least since moving to Milwaukee) has been the squirrels. My desk in my room looks right out onto some large trees and power wires which make the sickest jungle gym/parkour location for the neighborhood squirrels. In summer, lil baby guys would hang out in the shade in the heat of day. During autumn, they were absolutely wilding out- chasing each other and gorging on nuts. As winter’s cold blanket descended, the squirrels were still out but not nearly as frequently. When they did brave the elements, they’d oftentimes be hunkered down against the cold like adorable, tiny babushkas in the Siberian tundra. I found myself relating to these lil critters so much this year. To the squirrels out there reading this blog- I dedicate this post to you (I know there are dozens of you!)

  Most of all- I’m thankful. Thankful for this blog giving me necessary space to process my feelings, share my photography and voice my intrusive thoughts. I’m thankful for this world we live in- through all of the pain and suffering we as humans create for ourselves, this planet continues to shine with the bounty of its unpredictable beauty. And I’m eternally grateful for it all. Finally, I’m thankful for, well, YOU! My friends, family, and MORTAL BLOOD ENEMIES. You’ve kept me both grounded (in sanity) and afloat (in motivation). You’ve been there with me as I opened a more genuine window into the inner workings of how my two rabid brain cells work (and not had me committed?) We got through this fucking crazy year together, and for that I am more grateful than you’ll ever know. Unless you read this far into the blog, then you’ll have a pretty good idea 😎. To wrap up this post (and this year) I want to share some of my favorite photos of Milwaukee cloaked in early winter snow. For all of the hate that winter gets (not totally unwarranted? I mean come on who really likes subzero temperatures for weeks on end) she is so beautiful. Milwaukee is a great canvas to showcase winter’s beauty and I’m grateful to be witness to it. Anyways- before I keep babbling- plz enjoy these photos, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

  Milwaukee- End of Year 2025

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  December 28, 2025

  2025, architecture, life, mental health, midwest, Milwaukee, nature, photography, squirrels, travel, Wisconsin

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• I’m Baaaaaaaack (You Can’t Kill Evil That Easily)- Adventures in Door County.

  Have y’all ever heard of the concept of your twin flame? Basically, it’s this like, goofy doofy pseudo-new-age-Christianish-Cultish concept that you are spiritually perfectly and completely tied to one other person on this planet- i.e. your twin flame. It’s like basically a repackaged version of the age old silliness that humans are one dimensional and have one person on the planet that’s supposed to perfectly complement every facet of who they are. And like before y’all come for me, I’m not dragging monogamy! It works for a lot of people. I’d say it works for most people! But I also think it’s really stupid to put each and every one of your lil’ eggs in one basket and expect that person to be able to be literally everything for you because A) that puts so much pressure on that person, B) we are such unique, complex, stupid creatures with ever evolving needs and C) why wouldn’t you wanna bond with multiple people??! Anywhos, I say all of this to preface that I have, against all odds and my previous ranting, met my twin flame. My flamer comes in the form of Craig- a sassy, 40 year old barista at a local coffee shop here called the Sherman Perk who will, undoubtedly, read your ass to FILTH each and every time you come in. Like a moth to the flame, I am now a regular there. Literally the first time I got coffee there, Craig asked the person in front of me if he’d like a threat of physical violence with his coffee (JOKINGLY of course I think??). Being the lil troll that I am, I asked if I could be threatened with my order of an oat milk latte (of course bc gay hello). Not missing a single beat, Craig looked me up and down and said ‘honey I don’t need to life’s already beat you down’. And from that point forward, I was smitten. Platonically of course. Craig is lowkey an amazing human tho and we’ve yapped at length every time I’ve gone in since- it’s my new spot to work on schoolwork and stuff when I feel the sanity tendon in my brain snap after working on powerpoints for multiple hours on my laptop in my lil janky home office. His comedic fury keeps me fueled and I just wanted to dedicate this post to him. Craig, if you somehow become literate, get a computer, and get home internet in the next couple weeks and stumble across my blog, this one’s for you (threw in that read for Craig).

  Anyways- HI Y’ALL!! It’s been a minute!!!! I know it’s hard to believe but the end of the semester plus two internships takes up a lot of goddamn time and to be quiiiiIIIIiIite frank, I just haven’t had the blog bug in me the last few weeks. Now don’t get all scared that this is another one of the billion hobbies that my gemini ass immediately tires of- I am COMMITTED to my baby. I think once school things die down next week and mama has more time to marinate in her creative juices the posts will start flowin’ once more. But today, I had a moment to breathe. And catch up. And wanted to connect with you all!!! So I’m gonna rapid fire some fun lil things that have happened in the last month or so:

  • I started an internship with the city’s department of public works which involves engaging w/ a lot of community members to get feedback on transportation projects. Through this work, I met this man Charles (sorry brother- that’s actually his name). Now mister Charles strolled into the venue with his shirt unbuttoned almost down to his belly (Charles was easily in his 60’s) and at first I was like ok slay we love an older man in touch with his diva side! Oh, how innocent I was. Charles then proceeded to try and have my coworker and me help him install Windows 11 on his laptop (bitch I don’t even know how to do that on my own laptop let alone yours like chill). Once his computer was installing the new software, Charles decided to play ball and let us ask him survey questions. Y’all……when I tell you this was the most unhinged conversation I’ve ever had……I’m not even exaggerating. For context- the survey questions were very simple, straightforward questions about commuting habits like “What transit method do you normally take to work or school”? Now Charles…..he decided to exercise lots of shall we say artistic liberty in answering these questions. Within the first 5 minutes he was filling me in on his ESP abilities including telling people their futures and reading auras (he said mine was radiant so- maybe he’s onto something??) When I asked him about his bike riding behavior, he decided to take a hard left and tell me about the time him and his friends were fishing in the woods and found a UFO. I can’t lie- it was kind of amazing. Like if I didn’t have a job to do I kinda would have wanted to board the crazy train and ride it into oblivion but alas. Anyways- pour some out for Charles and his ESP!
  • I fiiiiiiinally watched Megan 2.0. Now keep in mind I was stoned to the bone watching this shit so I was already in a silly mood but my lord this movie just tickled me pink. The Eastern European fembot assassin Amelia??? BIG DIVA ENERGY. Megan’s story arc into being the story’s good guy??? Pulled at my heartstrings. (Also sorry for the spoiler LMAO). The musical numbers? YES. YES. YES. GIVE ME MORE. I want to make it a point to watch this film on multiple different psychedelics to compare experiences and to open my third eye fully and completely. Who’s down to join??
  • My friend Leah (heyyyyy Leah!) made these bomb mothafuckin’ stuffed dates with labneh and cream cheese and mint and fig jam and balsamic reduction and it fully made me do one handed flips and tricks on his dick out of excitement.
  • I’ve learned the magic of Wisconsin winters. And by that I mean I’m freezing my fuckin’ tortellinis off. The high temperature for multiple days this week are in the single digits. Like don’t get me wrong I love the snow and the icicles and christmas lights and holly jollyness of it all (trust there will be some beautiful snow pictures incoming!!) But like my god I’ve felt cold in bodily crevices I didn’t discover in all 32 years of life. And it’s just the beginning! hehehehehehehehe (starts sobbing. Tears freeze to face).
  • I now only communicate via deranged audio messages. If you text me, this is how I will respond to you. So be prepared for that. I just like to be able to convey my “eyes pointing opposite directions Golden Retriever” energy and texting doesn’t do that.
  • OH!!! The most important part I wanted to talk about. Door County! I like mentioned it in the title and everything. Ok Door County deets incoming:

  Door County is a peninsula in northeastern Wisconsin extending into Lake Michigan. It’s long and narrow, with steep rocky coasts (for the most part) and rolling farmland. During the summer it has strong Cape Cod vibes (at least from what I’ve been told) so imagine like, little cutesie water-side towns that you’d see in a Hallmark movie. So anyways, my friend Brook (shoutout Brook mama loves you so much keep being the absolute queen that you are) owns a bar with her bf (theee Scotty) in Jacksonport- which is a small town on the peninsula. Me and my gal pals Gerina and Sam (HI GERINA AND SAM) decided to drive up unannounced and corner her at work and yell at her how much we love her. It was a huge success! We drank, and ate (btw the name of Brook’s bar is Scotty’s Pub and Grub– their appetizers fully turned me OUTTTTT (in a good way) so plz go there if you visit!) I even got to sing Rich Baby Daddy at karaoke with local Jacksonport icon Julie. Don’t tell Julie, but I also twerked on top of her car in the parking lot. Or tell her- I don’t care. I’d honestly be impressed if you found her and told her cause like….that’s some legitimately good PI work?? I won’t give you any more clues besides her name. And that could be wrong too! You’ll never know 😈😈😈😈😈

  Anyways!! Besides parking lot mayhem we also got to explore the peninsula a bit including going to Peninsula State Park where Sam and I met Jason (who we def think was on the DL and maybe trying to flirt with us? But also my gaydar is so broken that honestly it’s beyond repair so take that with a grain of salt). Anyways Jason was walking the largest dog either of us had ever seen (named Hagrid because of course) and Jason filled us in on a little secret of the peninsula- Cana Island. Cana Island is a small, rocky island attached to the mainland with a narrow, low lying spit of sand which disappears at low tide. So of course we went! On the island is a single lighthouse, surrounded by rocky shores and old stone walls. It was kinda creepy, pretty picturesque, and deeeeeefinitely haunted as fuck. It kinda gave Shutter Island vibes if you’ve seen that movie? I mean besides the murder and mystery and Leonardo DiCaprio. Anyways- 10/10 would recommend for the views, the serenity, and the bloodcurdling screams of the damned.

  Besides Jason and ghosts and Scotty’s Pub and Grub we also walked around the little town of Ephraim. It’s exactly what you would imagine a picturesque lakefront village would be- complete with church steeples, a scenic lakefront promenade, and an old school soda fountain. It really gives Hallmark movie, so it wasn’t a huge surprise when one of our wonderful baristas told us that it was in fact the filming location for a Hallmark movie: A Cherry Pie Christmas. It currently has a 6.3 / 10 on IMDB which for a Hallmark movie I imagine is damn near Oscar-worthy. It’s streaming on Pluto TV and Tubi lmao so if you’re feeling really masochistic go ahead and give it a view. Our barista queen even makes an appearance! She told us that she is in a scene wearing a pink puffy jacket in the background of one of the scenes so- keep an eye out for her!

  Ok one final thing before I free y’all from the metaphorical basement I’m holding you hostage in while you read this: there is this rotted, rancid, raggedy bitch named SUZETTE who lives somewhere in Door County and who, for no reason, went out of her way to insult Scotty’s on Facebook because she “thought that their pictures made their food look bad”. First of all Suzette, YOUR pictures make me want to perform a self-induced ice pick lobotomy so let’s not get craaaaaazy now with the judgment. Second of all- don’t you ever EVER come for my friends. So in honor of Suzette’s skank ass, I wanted to end today’s post with a nice old fashioned roast. Feel free to comment any other reads you’d like to give Suzette!!!

  • Suzette- I love your work in Hollywood. Your role as one of the mutants in The Hills Have Eyes was honestly incredible work. The hair and makeup team must’ve loved you too- because none was needed!
  • Suzette sees herself as a queen and queens need crowns. Well- I got a close look at that dental work- Suzette probably needs about 10-15.
  • Suzette is so old and dusty that she started taking Boniva during the Great Depression. And speaking of great depression, that’s what I feel whenever I’m reminded that Suzette probably somehow has a husband and I don’t 😥 (hey- gotta throw in a couple self reads too)
  • Suzette is so old and dusty that her family photobooks are the cave paintings in Lascaux.
  • Suzette is such a trashy, raggedy, geriatric skank that she has the AARP logo tattooed as a tramp stamp.

  Ok I’m done!! Enjoy the photos, enjoy me dragging Suzette for filth, and I hope you are all thriving!!!

  Door County- Fall 2025

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  December 10, 2025

  architecture, Door County, lake michigan, midwest, nature, photography, travel, Wisconsin

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