Lonnie Tapia | gay | 23 | cheap date | perpetually tanned

Hi! Thanks for stalking me!

Here, you will find no information whatsoever about yams. I’m not really sure I know what a yam is. See, the truth is "You yams" was a phrase coined by my brother and I as hellish guilt-driven Catholic closeted fags during a meal with our kin. Anything was up for conversation for dinner when we were a traditional seven person nuclear Latino family. This gave us the opportunity to talk chismé (Spanish for "gossip") about our own homosexuality, troubled siblings, illegitimate cousins, Christian off-key singing aunts, and our beloved cat Ramba. We lived in a three-bedroom house just minutes away from fabulous downtown Santa Fe, New Mexico where people say "coke" when ordering soft-drinks in lieu of "soda" or "pop."

These days, my time is spent playing soccer on a gorgeous gay team, in a gay volleyball league, and organizing graphic design socials (regularly with liquor) for the people of Arizona.

Have you hugged a violent child today?

Yours,
Lonnie