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| June 30, 2004
Luke, I Am Your Lumbergh
The Star Wars-Office Space mashup is exactly why I love the goddamn Internet.
Requiem for a Dream Job
A few weeks back, during an email conversation with him, I came up with these characteristics of my dream job. I want:
Why do I feel like it's too late for me to get a job like that? My head says that I'm still young (even if I'll be 31 in a few weeks). But with a mortgage and bills and responsibilities, I feel trapped. It's a ridiculous feeling. It's also not the nicest thing to tell your partner of 10 years. Believe me. As with most things, it's the disconnect between what I know and what I feel (or fear) that is the problem. June 29, 2004
Look, Muffy, Body Art For Us
Friday night, G and I went to see Fahrenheit 9/11. I'm sure many people will bitch and moan about it being full of lies and worthy of censorship and others will champion it as the most righteous movie of all time. It was neither. I liked it, and I think it raised a lot of good questions. Sure Michael Moore is a bit of a obnoxious prick at times, but I tend to find him funnier and more rational than, say, certain blonde, anorexic Hitlerspawns. Enough about that, though, the important thing I took away from the movie was how much the '80s fashion revival scares the hell out of me. Even though F9/11 was playing on four screens at the Loews Georgetown Googleplex, the only show we could get tickets for was the midnight movie. As I sat in line while Glenn got his $20 soda and nachos combo, I noticed lots of drunk college kids. A lot of drunk college kids who apparently had just been through some sort of pastel and linen gauntlet. It looked like a J.Crew exploded and no one's common sense survived. Disclosure: as a young boy in the '80s, I read my older sister's copy of The Official Preppy Handbook. A lot. Too much for an eight year-old, probably. Pictures of me with an upturned Izod collar do exist. I don't understand two polos layered on top of each other. I'm confused by the linen jackets with the sleeves pushed up. I don't know why a twenty-one year old would want to look like Crockett or Tubbs. Madras? a great drink, but an awful, awful pattern for long pants. Perhaps the most frightening specimen that I saw Friday night was this: an attractive young man in a peach Izod (collar up, natch) with a pair of white linen capris/clamdiggers. And a tattoo. A three-inch green tattoo just above his ankle. Of this. June 28, 2004
My Big Fat Irish Family Reunion
This weekend we had a family reunion. After my grandfather died, the family decided that rather than take what money was left and split it up, we'd better honor my grandparents by bringing the whole lot of us together for a big party. Let me tell you, it was a very good party. Two days with 150 of my closest relatives and I remember just where I picked up my sense of humor, my sense of adventure, and occasional lack of common sense. My family is crazy and wonderful and the most loving and supportive group of people you can imagine. One cousin brought her new boyfriend, another her new girlfriend. The new girlfriend was cutting up a rug to KC and the Sunshine Band with another cousin, the Monsignor. Yet another cousin is now a DJ living in tragically hip Williamsburg and spinning at parties all over the country, and another in the Navy told me about a meth lab that was busted on his ship. In case you haven't figured it out, pretty much everyone is a cousin. I'm sure some of them are more like second cousins once removed, but who really has time to figure all that out? It takes at least an hour and a half just to say hello or goodbye to that many people. As I drove back to D.C., with Glenn drifting off to sleep in the passenger seat, I shed a few quiet tears. At first I thought it was because I missed my grandparents and wished they could have been there. The more I thought about it, though, it was because they were there in spirit and I forgot how nice it was to have them around. June 25, 2004
Pessimism Never Created a Job
That's the new tag line for the Bushies, apparently. Pardon me for talking like a sailor (or our vice president) but what the fuck does that mean? I guess for W it does ring true. Most of his jobs were created by nepotism. June 24, 2004
Does She Have an Esther/Whore Complex Too?
Maybe Mary-Kate is finding help through Kabbalah? I'm not really basing this belief on anything other than four or five google searches for this. I'm so very proud that I'm among the results.
So Gay It Hurts
The WYSIWYG Talent Show was a blast. I'm still catching up on sleep and emails and that work thing. The last two days were just what I needed though. It was all whirlwind, heat, and flash. I have to say it was overwhelming meeting so many people at once. I can be rather shy. Shh, don't tell anyone. I wouldn't want to call attention to it. Jimbo and I got on the Chinatown bus (which stops in neither DC nor New York's Chinatown, by the way). The ride wasn't bad, the movies really were, and I made Jimbo nervous both ways because I like to get on the bus at the last possible minute. Before the show, I got to meet Sam and Adam, both of whom I've spent loads of time talking to when I should be working, one of whom is going to let me be the pool boy when he takes Glenn away from me. I also met Crash who made me blush with his kind words (I'm really serious about that shy thing), and some other folks who, judging by the company they keep, look like they're worth getting to know better. The show was spectacular. Bob's delightful drag fundraiser story set the tone well. I loved the small touches (like the scarf). Sparky had me at "asymmetrical haircut," but he took me home with "bring on the ass fucking." Kiri reminded us that being queer isn't all fun and games. I absolutely loved Faustus's song. Jimbo represented for DC. If only photos of Salsa and Nellie could have been included in the program. Charlie's inventory of his faggot credentials is still making me giggle. Kythryne answered many a gay man's plea with "how not to get a woman." And the Hazzards closed the show with the icing that made the cake. "Gay Boyfriend" is even better live. A big group of us met up after the show for some bevvies (but first I had a delicious hot dog wrapped in bacon with avocados and sour cream.... true love at first bite). It was really cool to have time to talk to some of the people who I've been reading for a while now. I was also told once again that I'm taller than people thought I would be. For the record, I'm about 6'1". Why do people think I'm shorter online? Afterwards, I tagged along with some of the boys to another bar. As we passed the folks grilling up hot dogs out front, I realized where I was and what superstar DJ I was hopefully going to meet there. And as an added bonus, it was his birthday. Rock on. Big thanks to the lovely and talented Chris and Andy for putting on such a very gay show. Many thanks to the wonderful Uncle Bob who made sure I found my way home in one piece. I also have to thank my gracious hosts, newlyweds Michael and Jason. Jason's book is coming out soon and you are going to have to buy it if you want to remain my friend. I *heart* NY. June 21, 2004
Breaking News!
An old friend happens to work in the design department for a company whose clients include Maverick Records. He just sent me an email with the image below. You heard it hear first. 
That's why we only work when we need the money
Ladies and gentlemen, I have seen the second coming of rock and roll. Okay, maybe that's a bit too dramatic. But if you can see Franz Ferdinand in your town, do. A band that can make straight boys dance when they're not trying to impress a girl has something special going on. June 18, 2004
Treasure Chests
When men are insuring their chest hair for millions of dollars, does that mean it's fashionable to skip the full-body wax once again? As someone with (more than) a little hair on his chest, I have to say I sure hope so. About ten years ago, Glenn told a friend that he wasn't sure he was that interested in me because I had "too much hair on my chest." According to the good folks at gay porn blog, Orlando Bloom has to wear fake chest hair to please Ridley Scott. Jeff wants to know the size of other bloggers, but what about their hairiness? Can we add this to the toolbar? I'm still thinking about Jake Gyllenhaal's chest hair peeking through that wet shirt on the Entertainment Weekly cover. You've heard about that petition, right? Black sheep of the day: sweaty, shirtless dancing men with body stubble. I'm not opposed to people removing back hair if they're uncomfortable with it. I totally understand. I am opposed to the guys who don't keep it fresh. By the time I've gotten to the dancefloor I've already exfoliated, so I don't really need your sandpaper-y torso's help, thanks.
How Long Until "The Kabbalah Name Generator" Sites Pop Up?
Madonna is Esther. Esther is Madonna. The always delightful Andy finds some deeper meaning in the change. At least she spells it right, unlike certain shiksas. I really hope Esther starts throwing Yiddish phrases around in her faux British accent. Can't you just see her with the kids, "Rocco, get your tuchus out of the loo. Mumsy wants to get a nosh at Harrod's." June 17, 2004
Iraq Totally Had al Qaeda's Varsity Jacket On at that U.N. Pool Party
Bush insists Iraq, al Qaeda had 'relationship' Yeah, so did my parents long after they were divorced but I wouldn't say they were "in bed together" either.
Too Bad It's Too Late for Jenna and Barbara
"If I was a young person in Maryland or Virginia, I'd be here in D.C. trying to get a drink right now, because there's nothing we can do about it." And I thought I had another few months before my niece and her friends were making me feel entirely too old to be at Pharmacy Bar. June 16, 2004
June 15, 2004
Suddenly We're Lesbians
After the passing of our little buddy a few months ago, Glenn and I decided to wait a few months before we even thought about bringing another animal into the house. Partially out of respect for Blackie's memory, partially so we could get the new condo in order (haha, I know, right?), and partially so Glenn could finish grad school and finally have the time to enjoy its companionship. Apparently Glenn's kittylogical clock went into overdrive sometime after graduation. He wanted twins. He's so Julia Roberts. This weekend we went to the DC Animal Shelter and found two kittens we liked--a male named Dizzy and a female named Aretha. The volunteer for the Humane Society came by last night to make sure we were a fit home. Fortunately we don't have any Senate Majority Leaders in our unit, so we are.  "Dizzy" chases his companion around the bedroom. Already they take after us. So far we've lost a lamp. And a little bit of my sanity.  They finally rest. We're still not sure what to name them. We were looking for names that go together. I suggested Posh and Becks, but that's way too flash in the pan. Maybe Coco and Apple? As a name, Dizzy is growing on me, but if we keep that I think Aretha should change. Wrong era. Maybe Dizzy and Ella? Any suggestions for good boy/girl names are welcome. If we pick your suggestion, I'll even send you a mix CD.
Let Me Get This Straight
So, supporting a woman's right to choose makes you a bad Catholic and undeserving of Communion, but going to war, the death penalty, and allowing poor people to starve and have little or no access to health care are all fine? Who are these hypocrites running the church? I'm really glad I was raised in a relatively sane Catholic parish that taught us what Jesus actually said versus some bullshit political agenda. And my priests never touched me in the bathing suit regions. June 14, 2004
Don't Ever Tell Me To Stop
Between Pride and a night with everyone's favorite Kabbalah queen, I've dubbed the last few days my Big Gay Weekend™. I'm dead tired. I danced my ass off like Ren McCormack. I've gotten little sleep, but I feel more alive than ever. Some random thoughts on Pride for you:
I think Andy's recap of the show is dead on. I didn't read it when he originally posted it just in case I was able to see the show. Looking at the post now, I think he nailed it. I knew we were in the fun section when all of the cute boys surrounding us introduced themselves to us and told us they would be standing for the majority of the show (as if there were any doubt). One of them, in a blue ringer that read "vaginas are weird," went out of his way to make sure all of us were dancing. There's nothing like being surrounded by gay Julie McCoys at a Madonna concert. I really appreciated the small touches. Madonna and crew wore "Kabbalists Do It Better" t-shirts during "Papa Don't Preach" (a nod to the "Italians Do It Better" she wore in the video). During "Material Girl," the screens showed a photo of a scientist, E=MC2, some other equations and physics stuff during "Material Girl." At first I was confused by the significance, then it hit me. I leaned over to Glenn and whispered "Matter...get it?" Later I learned that the photo was of Heisenberg (of uncertainty principle fame). These are the benefits of having a mathematician with you at all times. Overall, it was one of my favorite concerts. Stunning visual images, classic songs from throughout her career, terrific choreography, great friends by my side, and a cute boy on my arm. The perfect cap to any Big Gay Weekend™.
Ripple of Hope Happy Hour
When my favorite DC power couple throws a party, you can count on it being a damn good time. That's not the only reason you should plan on attending, though. It's also a party for a good cause. Ripple of Hope Happy Hour 1223 Connecticut Ave. NW 18th and N Streets at MCCXXIII When: June 17, 2004 6:30 pm - 9:00 pm Tickets are only $35, which is pretty cheap for a political fundraiser. If you've never been to MCCXXIII (say for Lizard Lounge), it's a beautiful place. Lots of fun and interesting people should be there. Please join us. June 11, 2004
Encomium: Lindsay Lohan
Last night, after dinner and discussions of kitten adoptions, I snuggled up on the couch between Glenn and a female friend. We started watching the MTV Movie Awards. Is it wrong that the three of us, all very boy-centric in our orientations, were captivated by Lindsay Lohan? I mean, first, she's a girl. Then there's that whole not-quite-eighteen-years-old-yet issue. It's a little off-putting, to say the least. But during her opening dance number with the You Got Served crew, we were all very focused on Ms. Lohan and her mean girls. I tried to start the go white girl, go white girl, go chant, but it never took off. As I watched her booty shaking, I realized something. LL is thick. It's refreshing to see a teen star who doesn't look so hungry. Also, her family's kinda trashy. There's dad saying mom was constantly looking for blow while pregnant with young Lindsay. Oh, and then he started shit with his brother-in-law at a first communion party. I bet Lindsay and Frances Bean Cobain will be great friends one day. And Bobbi Kristina. Of course, those who read <notsafeforwork> fleshbot </notsafeforwork> remember other things about her little brother's first communion. Usually, I am down with people being catty about fashion. With LL, though, I feel it's just a little mean. Not so mean as, say, talking obsessively about her trashy family, but close. And it looks like Lindsey is honoring her redneck past by making a movie about NASCAR. I can't wait. June 10, 2004
A FILFy Mind
A few years ago, one TGIF night, I was watching the newest MKAO enterprise Two of a Kind. Stop laughing. As I watched the show, I realized that I was experiencing a new feeling. Usually, on televisions shows, I would develop crushes on the older brother characters. Jason Bateman on I was entering a new world. The world of the FILF. I continue to find myself attracted to more and more TV fathers. Maybe it's me getting older. Maybe it's me growing bored with chicken after working on the farm all day. Or maybe the dads on TV have just gotten hotter. Compare and contrast: Tom Bosley vs. Treat Williams. As I was thinking about this on the metro this morning, I also was thinking about a different term. BILF. The B being for blogger. Now that's some dangerous territory. By the way, if you want to see more of Christopher Sieber, check out "The Billy Masters Show." Something about 6:30 into it may be of interest to you. Black sheep of the day: the makers of The Day After Tomorrow. To be fair, I haven't seen it yet, but I think the movie would have been much more interesting if it were a sudden heatwave instead of an instant ice age. "Quick, Jake, get naked and pour this bucket of ice cold water on yourself. Here, let me run ice cubes up and down your chest." Don't you think? June 09, 2004
Culture of Fear, Party of One
Remember a few years ago when the media was obsessed with sharks? Or rich blonde girls getting kidnapped? 
I believe in the year of the shark attacks, there were actually fewer attacks, but more media coverage. Thousands of kids are abducted every year, but in the summer of Elizabeth Smart, the media made it seem like a new epidemic. Lately--since the awful death of Nicholas Berg to be specific, I've been noticing more decapitation-related news stories. It started with one in Baltimore a few weeks ago. Then this morning I saw this story. I did a search and found that it's not just happening to people. Dogs, cats, and fish have all been decapitation victims recently. So did these all happen before and I just didn't pay attention to them or are these strange copy-cat crimes?
Courtney Love: My Hero
Tell me, what better person to help me avoid the drama of wall-to-wall Reagan coverage than Ms. Love? Seeing a headline like Courtney Love Wanted For Allegedly Beating Woman With Flashlight is morning in America to me. Oh, do you think J. Lo and J. Ro's babies will do playdates together? June 08, 2004
Doppelgangbang
I, like Bob and (based on multiple conversations) many others, have been staring at the EW cover dripping with the It Boy. 
I've always had a thing for guys with dark hair and blue eyes. It's just hot. Sure, I ended up picking a blond one with green eyes for a partner, but he's cute enough to make up for those shortcomings. When I think about why, though, I wonder if it's a strange sort of narcissism. I'm not saying for a second that I'm as attractive as Mr. Gyllenhaal, but I do have the dark hair and the blue eyes. Am I just attracted to men who look somewhat like me because I'm so in love with myself that I want to sleep with myself? Given the chance, would I sleep with myself? It's all too reflexive for my comfort levels. Even more disturbing was that thought that it's a Freudian thing. I definitely got my blue eyes from my dad, and he Perhaps it's some sort of desire to settle down with a boy with some Irish in him, like the formerly fat kid from Stand By Me? I think after spending five paragraphs analyzing myself like this, I was right the first time: I love myself too much. Besides, one of the nice things about being same-sex oriented is that you can actually look in the mirror and say "I'd do me." *** Black sheep of the day: all of my teachers who while covering Maryland history and famous Marylanders, failed to mention that Hasselhoff is also a native of the Free State. To think I had to do my seventh grade report on Kathleen Turner. June 07, 2004
An Apple a Day
"It's like moving to a new city. A much cooler city." Or so said the guy selling me my new toy. I've always wanted one. Now I finally have it. (By the way, have you ever noticed that it's much easier to spend a lot of money when the salesperson is cute? Somehow it softens the blow.) When I was the editor of my high school newspaper, it was the year we started doing the layout electronically. What I had learned to do as assistant editor with wax and paper and nonphoto blue pens, I did better and faster with Aldus Pagemaker on a Mac. Like most schools then, my high school had more Apple products than PCs. Most of them were Apple IIe's, though, so it was quite a coup when the Journalism teacher got us our own Mac for the newspaper office. I never got around to owning one. My computers were mostly hand-me-downs from my father (who taught me DOS at an early age). The last few computers I've had were ones that Glenn built (he's good with his hands, that one). Even at work, where many of the things I do are done better on Macs, I've never had one since supporting them was always an issue (or so they said). Now I finally have one of my own. It will definitely be good for me and the better half not to have to fight over one computer anymore. And career-wise, being proficient in both PC and Mac can only help me. It's good to be bi. Judging from the desktop picture he sent me, I think my buddy Dan had a different take on the news. Now if I may bleg some of you Mac people for help. What are some good sources for more information? Lots have changed since I worked with them on a daily basis.
Tainted Love
Last night was the inaugural night of Taint, the newest event for alternative homos in DC. I was thoroughly impressed with the venue, the crowd, and the music. From "White Lines" to "Sexy Boy" to "Playgirl" to "Double Dutch Bus" to old Madonna, it was as though someone had started up my iTunes and hit shuffle. DC9 is a wonderful space with lots of room to mill about and dozens of comfy couches (including a slew of them in a back room suitable for make-out sessions). I may have to check out some of their other events. Jimbo and I showed up early, since he knew his "grampawness" would preclude him from making a late night of it. Fortunately I was able to call Glenn up and drag his damaged ass out of the house. He has a groin injury from a biking incident so I had to promise him that we wouldn't dance. It was a difficult task, to say the least, since the music was amazing. We somehow muddled through. Some familiar faces were in the crowd, including John who seemed to somehow have doubled his muscularity since I last saw him. Overall, the boys and girls there were my kind of people. He pressed me for a further explanation of what "my kind of people" means. I'm not sure I have words for it, but let's try casual, hip, funny, cute, but not stuck up like most of DC. It was a similar crowd to Feint, which was described as "hanging out with the drama club" on Beaverhausen some time back. Given the choice of hanging with the drama club or the drama queens, I'll be back for the next Taint. June 05, 2004
The Difference Between Men and Boys
I am now among the wireless and, once again, a Mac user. I have such a technology hard-on. June 03, 2004
Something for the Homogays
I think I just may be making a trip to Gotham to support Jimbo in this li'l shindig. And by support I totally mean hold his pocketbook while he's on stage. 
It would also be cool if I happen to meet some of you there. You know who you are. And if you don't, you really should. June 02, 2004
Humor, Thy Name is Subtlety
I can't say I've ever been to DC's own answer to the Peach Pit After Dark, Lulu's Club Mardi Gras (to be honest, it just sounds like a total tool shed--too many GW and Georgetown kids). I will give them credit for making me smile tonight after a long day relating to the public for a conference my office is sponsoring. Even if it came to me slowly. Their latest radio ad for their Thursday special (Intern Night!) features "Mambo Number Five" in the background and ends with the opening line of its chorus. June 01, 2004
May's Top Referrers
BFT started this, and I liked it so much I stole the idea. Looking at this month's, I see two things: A.) DC people support each other; B.) Avenue Q is right Thanks! And Happy Birthday to Kia!
The Computer Wore Doc Martens
This weekend, I had my first non-politico famous person sighting in DC in quite a while. Okay, "famous" is a relative term when it comes to TLC reality shows, but it was more exciting for me than seeing Orrin Hatch or Wolf Blitzer. On Saturday, I was walking up 17th street and who should be leaving Foodbar DC but Clinton Kelly. "Who?," you ask. "Clinton Kelly of the American version of What Not To Wear," I say. He was leaving the restaurant and heading south. Wanting to share the joy, I immediately hop on my cell and call Brian who I just saw rummaging through "Receiving Department" tee shirts at Universal Gear. Of course, I had to go through a five-minute explanation of who Clinton Kelly was, but eventually Brian figured out what I was talking about and saw him too. "Chris, you really have a talent," Brian said. "You know everyone who's ever been on television. Ever. Like even those people walking in the background during interviews on the local news." I suppose he's right. Just the other day, I was watching MTV, and for some strange reason they were actually playing a video. It was the new Kanye West video, "All Falls Down." As I'm watching, I have this sudden urge to say to Glenn, "Oh look, it's Stacey Dash." I stop myself, however, when I realize that Glenn would have no idea who Stacey Dash is. And, really, should I? The thing about Stacey Dash (and this is where my true abilities get frightening) is that I remember her from TV 101, a short-lived show in the late '80s about a high school journalism class that produces a television show rather than print a newspaper. It also starred Matt LeBlanc and the black guy with dreads in PCU. I think if I used the brainpower that I've devoted to remembering that Teri Copley starred in We Got it Maid for something important like curing cancer or getting Bush out of the White House, the world would be a much better place. |
Sister Bernadette's Barking Dog: The Quirky History and Lost Art of Diagramming Sentences - Kitty Burns Florey  Sublimation Point - Jason Schneiderman 
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