July 30, 2004
Born on This Day
If you were born today, you may have said "It's already been broughten!" or maybe you're just a little nutty.
You could have played Marcia Brady or a stripper with a heart of gold.
You could be the only friend I don't hate or offer me the blue pill.
You may have gained fame with "Wuthering Heights" as a song or a novel.
Hopefully, people still believe you.
You might have made fun of girlie men or maybe you became famous for playing a man born a girl.
Or you could be me.
I'll see some of you tonight.
July 29, 2004
C-Low and A-Co Guessing Game
Which one has more tooth enamel?
... is still fertile?
... is really a fag hag?
... reads more books?
... thinks she's really pretty?
... should be taking more pills?
... would win in a fight-to-the-death cage match?
... has had sex with Matt Drudge?
... has thrown up more recently?
... has more common sense?
... said "there's a reason hurricanes are named after women and homosexual men, it's one of our little methods of social control. We're supposed to fly off the handle"?
... said "I don't mean to be a diva, but some days you wake up and you're Barbara Streisand"?
... still gets in USA Today?
July 27, 2004
Movin' On Up
Hey everybody. It's Hot Toddy guestblogging for Chrisafer while he's away listening to bad emo and crying in his coffee. Lighten up, dude!
I've been busy today. For some reason, everyone is asking me to guest blog for them. I guess when it rains it pours. Speaking of pours, I will have another Marker's. Thank you. But I should be careful. Don't want to get too drunk before noon.
Anyway, I feel like I should address some recent tragic events. A few weeks back, Isabel Sanford passed away. We all weeped for Weezie. I especially shed a few tears because she was like a mother to me. At least she would have been if the producers of The Jeffersons had seen things my way.
When I was in high school, I knew I wanted to be famous. I didn't drink or smoke or fool around, so I needed some outlet. It was fame. The thought of people talking about me behind my back was hot. Super hot. It still is.
My favorite television show at the time was The Jeffersons. I would beg my mom to let me stay up past my 9:00 bedtime on Sundays to watch it. One day it occurred to me that what my favorite show was missing was an adorable white boy. So I set out to fix it.
I drafted my debut episode after band practice one day. My character, also named Toddy, would be a sweet but street-smart orphan who was caught sleeping in one of Mr. Jefferson's dry cleaning stores. When Weezie heard the boy's sob story, she insisted that George bring him home.
Isn't it perfect?
After hearing the news of Ms. Sanford's death, I tracked down the script I wrote. It was in a box with a pen with a nice jump and a cocktail napkin from a bar where I made out with a straight professional bowler. Ahh... Memories.
Here's an excerpt from that script:
I don't know why we have to pay for this white boy. Can't we pawn him off on the Willises.
George! I will not have you talk about Toddy in that way. He's a sweet boy. He just needs a little tenderness.
No, what he needs is a little tender. As in legal tender. That boy's going to have to pull his weight and pay some rent if he's going to stay here with us.
Oh, Mr. J! I'll be glad to do chores. I could be Florence's assistant.
No sir. I don't think she needs any help sitting around watching soap operas and eating bon bons.
Kiss my grits!
As you can see, even though I was a big fan of The Jeffersons, I wasn't the best writer. Maybe if I had turned the TV off before Alice came on. Oh well.
I wrote some other scripts. There was one where Lionel and I fought over the same girl. And the one where I taught Bentley how to dunk. Oh, and that very special episode where I helped Ralph the Doorman overcome his problems with erectile dysfunction. Good times. Good times. Oh, I wonder if I have those scripts too--like the one where J.J. and I got caught smoking by Esther Rolle...
July 26, 2004
Clouds in My Coffee
At the risk of not being perky, I have to admit I feel awful. This weekend took a chunk out of me, and I'm not sure why. It had some really wonderful parts. But as I walked under the gray skies to my office, I had lines looping in my head from a poem written by my mentor.
The heart says: I cannot.It probably didn't help that on the way in, Glenn and I listened to this story about how
And then there's this.
When will the madness stop? When?
July 23, 2004
Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen
My post the other day about high school brought some former Boys Staters out of the shadows. I know of at least one other BS alum. It's us and Clinton.
It's a lame idea for a meme, but I'm curious. What clubs, sports, and other assorted activities did you do in high school?
Here are mine:
Black sheep of the day: Friendster, where they apparently can't tell time.
According to my profile, I am already 31. My birthday is still seven days away. That's enough time to die in "The Ring" (or turn gay in "The Hole").
Oh, and this isn't just a nice way for me to remind you that my birthday is in a week. Not at all.
Lifetime Original Movies: CNN Saved My Life
I've mentioned before how I am constantly on the lookout for the latest in fear-inducing news trends. Mainly so I can mentally prepare for when my mother calls to warn me to wear a surgical mask if I'm in Chinatown.
I think there's a new one. It affects a fairly specific population, but I want to warn those people now.
July 22, 2004
With the speed and currency of IM conversations, typos are to be expected. But I sometimes think my typos are Freudian. I often tell someone "just a sex" when I wanted them to hold on. Last night, in two different conversations I said I was online "looking for jons." I suppose that is a form of work--monster and manhunt are only slightly different.
Perhaps my less than perfect typing skills are Ms. Kimbrough's revenge.
I skipped a month of "Keyboarding I" class in high school. For some reason, probably boredom, I just decided to stop going. It was my last class of the day in the spring semester of junior year. I would go home after fifth period's AP U.S. History, watch One Life to Live, have a snack,
One day, when I was delivering a note for the journalism teacher (I was being groomed to take over the newspaper), I entered the room of one of the "business skills" teachers. Sitting at her desk and chatting with her was my typing teacher, Ms. Kimbrough. She looked at me. "Hey, aren't you one of my students?"
"Um, sort of."
"Where have you been for the last few weeks?"
I was sent to the vice principal, who wanted me to come in for detention during the first two weeks of summer vacation. "I'm sorry, I can't do that. I'm going to Boys State."
"What? You're going to represent this school at Boys State? You're going to be editor of the newspaper and secretary of the senior class? You are a leader at this school, Chris. I expect more from you than skipping classes."
We rescheduled my "detention" for the end of summer. It was actually quite nice. I got to work in the office for two weeks and got to know all of the secretaries really well. They thought I was sweet and gave me lots of good advice for picking up the ladies. And for some reason, all of senior year, they never once questioned absence excuse notes from my mother. It was here where I learned the key to getting anything you wanted lies in making friends with the secretaries. Fast.
So, despite my minor guilt over not living up to the role model status being an activities geek had somehow bestowed on me, skipping typing turned out to be a good thing. Bedsides, what's wrong with a few typos?
July 21, 2004
Much Better than "The Ricker"
Glenn and I were flipping channels and came across Ellen interviewing a former teen star. I immediately stopped and got that look on my face that I sometimes get when an object turns my ADD into that strange focus of energy that could bring down regimes if I could only harness it. The object of my obsession was Jason Bateman.
[Did you know my first college girlfriend looked remarkably like Justine Bateman?]
Glenn and I lamented the fact that we don't watch his new show on Fox because everyone says it's really good and if it got cancelled they would probably hate me the way I blame people who didn't watch Popular for ripping Mary Cherry from my life. Later that night we set the Tivo up to record it.
[Jason Bateman was the subject of an important moment of early pop-culture bonding with a west coast blogger who sent this to me via email and said, "name the short-lived show depicted in the
attached cast photo."]
I mentioned something to Glenn about when he was on Silver Spoons and how I had a crush on him then. Glenn shocked me with his next statement. "Yeah, and then remember It's Your Move?"
I knew I loved him for a reason.
"Where do you think my love for dark-haired sarcastic boys started, silly?"
[Jason Bateman beats Jerry O'Connell hands down. Hmm. That actually might be interesting to watch...]
In related Bateman news, just yesterday, I found someone else whose obsession with late '80s television is mighty impressive. Check out his first-rate analysis of the varied Valerie, Valerie's Family, and The Hogan Family openings (favorite comment: :26 - I totally saw the glass eye just now).
Seeing those intros, I'm at a loss for words.... Danny Ponce, Jeremy Licht, who knew these names were still rattling around my head? Oh, and Mrs. Poole! Also known as the child molester's secretary from Ferris Bueller. Josie Bissett?! Oh Jane.
Pardon me as I go suck on the warm, pop culture-filled teat of the internet for a few days.
July 20, 2004
So, I'm searching for a more fulfilling job. Did you know that?
Anyway, I think I'm going to be really honest in my next cover letter and see where that gets me. Here's a rough draft:
I think it's worth a shot.
July 19, 2004
What do you get when Friday rolls around and you have yummy food, delicious sangria and margaritas, and wonderful friends? Well, you get a poll...
And for the record, since I'm against outing, I will not say whether said friend is a boy or a girl. Though, would I even bring it up if....
July 18, 2004
Stuck in Pacey's Shadow...
I'm worried about your career, Robin Dunne.
You first came to my attention as "AJ Moller," a possible love interest for Katie Holmes on Dawson's Creek. Sadly, I think that may have been the only original thing you've ever done.
Who is in Cruel Intentions II?
Who also followed Josh Jackson's toilet-bound career with The Skulls II?
And American Psycho II?
Who currently is making Species III?
Gosh, even Little Men is sort of a lame follow-up to Little Women.
You are the patron saint of straight-to-video sequels. I'm shocked you weren't the love interest in Bring It On Again.
Of course, what does it say about me that I actually watch this crap?
July 16, 2004
Wanna Be Barfin' Something?
The WOW Report points to a British newspaper report that a "mystery actress" who wrote a letter in support of Michael Jackson "was said to have been artificially inseminated with his sperm and is now pregnant with more than one child."
This leads me to wonder: Anorexia or morning sickness?
According to this Washington Blade article, "federal sentencing rules require plots to have an international component in order to be considered terrorism."
So, if he or she is domestic, Mr. or Ms. Anthrax-in-the-Mail isn't a terrorist? Timothy McVeigh wasn't one either? What do borders have to do with terrorism?
Last night, I had the pleasure of meeting Famous author Rob Byrnes and Bradykins for a lovely cocktail party. Of course, I had my copy of Trust Fund Boys signed by the author.
I told an English grad student friend that I was going to meet him and have him sign his book. She gave me a puzzled look. I hope she didn't think that I wasn't referring to the long-dead Scotsman with a similar name. I'm not that crazy.
When people at the party asked how Rob and I knew each other, the whole blogging thing came out. I'm sure I turned a lovely shade of magenta. Is it wrong that I don't have blogger pride?
The other day, I was having coffee with Ed and some of his friends. Part of me was hoping the blog thing wouldn't come up. People sometimes look at you funny. Like you're going to write about them. Which you are.
I am a DL blogger.
I think Glenn and Brady had a bonding moment on the balcony. It must be rough to be the partner of a blogger. You never know when he is going to tell an embarrassing story about you, like the one where you thought the lyrics to a certain tv show's theme song were "get her cell phone number, Wonder Woman" not "get us out from under, Wonder Woman." That kind of thing must suck.
I did a little calculating and realized that I've met roughly one-third of the people on my blogroll now. And you know what? There's only one person I really hated.
July 15, 2004
"Mother, do you think they’ll drop the bomb?"
Today my mother called me at work. "Hi. I just wanted to make sure everything was ok since I haven't heard from you in a while."
"Oh yeah, I'm sorry Mom. Things have been really busy lately."
"I hear the kittens got into the paint while you were redecorating." [Thanks, sis!]
"Yes. It was messy but kind of cute."
"Just be careful. That can kill them."
This is very typical of my conversations with her. My mother is Debbie Downer.
My top five favorite alarming things my mother has said to me....
"Was that shooting I saw on the news at your Metro station?"
"Whatever you do, don't caught up with those people." [during the IMF protests]
"Be careful on the subway. I hear they're planning to attack with dirty bombs."
"Don't eat any red meat in Canada."
"You may want to microwave your mail. Do you have rubber gloves?"
July 14, 2004
OMG, It's Just Like Dangerous Minds
Have you heard? Jenna Bush may be teaching in Harlem. On the radio this morning, they brought up that Bill Clinton's offices aren't too far from that school. Jenna kinda is Bill's type. I'm just saying.
Ring the bell. School's back in.
Many of my friends have told me about spotting Jenna out in D.C. I've never had the pleasure. Even though I'm not really stalking her and BB, I have noticed that we run in different circles. Has she been to Shirtless Men Drink Free at the Lantern? Ladies' night at Chaos? Amateur night at Wet? I don't think so. At least not when I've been there.
I think I'd like her. We have a lot in common. We were both English majors at large, public research universities. Maybe we could talk Virginia Woolf and Sylvia Plath over whiskey and ginger ales at the Eagle, like I did with the last kid I met like that.
On the CL
Sometimes, when I get really down about my job, I like to read about other people's anger. It's like listening to the Smiths when you're feeling down. Thankfully, there's craigslist where such bon mots as "I want to crack this keyboard over your head and beat you to death like a baby seal" can be found.
July 13, 2004
Why Can't Bigots Spell?
"This is not a battle of the gay coomunity and the church or even a good versus evil. This is a battle of what's right and what's wrong."
Fun Fact of the Day
The man who made a new documentary highlighting bias at FOX News (shocker!) was also behind a Jimbo favorite: Xanadu.
Does Rupert Murdoch have glowing neon rainbow vapor trails when on roller skates like Olivia? Do all Australians?
July 12, 2004
Do You Really Think It's Appropriate?
Saturday afternoon. Connecticut Avenue in Woodley Park. I just finished getting money from the ATM. I'm wearing the khaki version of this t-shirt. A woman comes up and points at Mr. Barker's visage and blurts out, "Do you really think it's appropriate to wear that t-shirt around children?"
For the record, although Woodley Park is near the zoo, I wouldn't say it's a hotbed of activity for the impressionable kiddie set. I looked at her, waiting for the right words, the witty Wildean comeback, but it never came. Since fight didn't kick in, flight did. I turned and walked away.
Even now, I'm trying to be like Joe and follow Jerry's lead to come up with what I should have said. But I'm at a loss.
Please, enlightened readers, tell me what you would have done. What should I have said to this woman?
From the Archives
My parents came into the city last night to take me and Glenn out for an early birthday dinner. It seems that my father is in a golf tournament at the end of the month and that takes precedence over his youngest child. Just kidding. I love spreading celebrations out as long as possible. My stepmother is a firm believer in celebrating your birthday month, so we did. It also marked the first time they saw the condo, which they loved.
With them, in addition to some cool gifts, they brought some old photos. One in particular made me laugh hysterically. It's from Homecoming 1988.
This is what the late eighties means to me: having the same basic hairstyle as your date and lots and lots of pleats.
We danced to Kool Moe Dee's "Wild, Wild West." On the ride home, I impressed her mother by talking about a paper I had just written for English class about the importance of literacy. The paper cited 10,000 Maniacs' "Cherry Tree." I have no clue what her name is, but I met her through my cousin at my grandparent's 50th anniversary. She was Mormon. A few days after the dance, she asked my cousin if it would be okay to send me a Book of Mormon, and my cousin replied "No, his mother would not appreciate that." I never saw her again.
July 09, 2004
Irony Thy Name Is...
Addaboy has the nerve to ask "What's it like to be in your 30's?"
I was going to respond with "a question a child might ask, but not a childish question." Then it occurred to me that probably no one under thirty would get the reference. Actually, maybe no one over thirty who isn't me would get it either. Is this thing on?
How about this response Adam? If you want to live to find out what your thirties are like, respect your elders. Oh, and you're black sheep of the day.
Best Way to Be Silly Today
1.) Go to the web site for the upcoming Hillary Duff movie (sorry Linds!).
2.) Click on the cell phone where it reads "Send a personalized message from Hillary."
3.) Send a totally obnoxious message to a friend, enemy, co-worker, boss, or random stranger.
4.) Rinse and repeat.
5.) Under no circumstance see this movie.
July 08, 2004
July 07, 2004
Down the Basement, Lock the Cellar Door
I'm turning 31 in a few weeks. I know, I don't think I look a day over 29 either.
If you're in the area and want to wish me well, please feel free to stop by Larry's Lounge. We'll be in the basement party room playing spin the bottle. Shhh, don't tell mom!
Significant others, friends, family members, and random cute people are all welcome.
Taint No Party Like a DC Party
Sunday night, while huddled masses of tourists filled the National Mall to watch the fireworks, most DC residents stayed far, far away. I was on the roof of my buddy Dan's place in Woodley Park. We were fortunate to see the first four or five fireworks. Then, we saw periodic flashes of light through the thick, stagnant smoke that hung over Northwest Washington for the rest of the show. It was really special. Add some mirrors and it would sum up my feelings about the current administration.
The fireworks I really wanted to see were to be found just south of U Street at DC9 where the hippest homos and their friends were gathering for the second edition of Taint. My sister from another mister and Ed were already on hand and having a great time. Brian, Dan and I also found Jimbo hanging at the bar chatting with some friends. There's photographic evidence somewhere here.
I finally met John, the DC half of the bicoastal Beaverhausen Blog and found him as charming and intelligent as I'd imagined. Thanks to Jimbo's expert tracking abilities, I also was able to connect with Ed of Inert One, though judging from his dancing I think he seriously needs to consider a name change.
A certain someone who lives mere blocks from the venue was not on hand. Word on the street was that he was sick this weekend. Hmmm. Wasn't someone else also sick this weekend? This only fuels the speculation that they are meeting at a Delaware rest stop for heavy petting sessions.
Taint is a blast. The music, the people, and the location are unlike the typical DC gay scene. The next event is August 1 (which is still part of my birthday weekend). I hope to see you there.
Oh, and, as you might suspect, doing a google search for taint can bring up some very scary things.
July 06, 2004
What the Veepstakes Means to Me
So it's Kerry and Edwards. Other sites will analyze this from all sorts of angles, but what other site will tell you that it's seen a dramatic increase in John Edwards shirtless queries? Twelve in the last four hours alone!
Take that, Dick Cheney.
I think this is the only shirtless John Edwards people are going to see. But really, the man is a powerhouse. Posed for Francis Bacon. Badminton bestseller. A U.S. Senator. A country legend. Not to mention that whole psychic thing. Kerry definitely picked a winner.
2,000 Words from the Last Two Weekends
How strange is my family? We had a fuzzy navel fountain at our reunion.
Our new room (now with Big Gay Stripe™).
July 05, 2004
Sooner or Later Everyone in DC Does It
Most of this holiday weekend was spent in some sort of Trading Spaces Hell. Three days later, Glenn and I emerged from our computer/media/chillout/guest bedroom covered in paint and sawdust, but the results were worth it.
This also entailed me wearing kneepads for a great deal of time.
Too bad the local hardware store didn't carry this brand.
July 01, 2004
Oh Yes It's Ladies' Night...
Every once in a while (like yesterday, judging from my employment-related overly dramatic post) I need to dance to forget about my problems. So last night, I met up with some friends for Ladies' Night at Chaos (that web site is scary... come on people, put down the animated gifs).
I wore my new favorite t-shirt (thanks, Brian!). It's my new favorite shirt because on both times I've worn it, an incredibly hot person has approached me. It's green and in white Celtic lettering reads "Tough Luck." I think it makes me magically delicious.
My friend Cindy was the one who turned me onto the wonder that is Chaos Ladies' Night. I really think that whole Indigo Girl birkenstock stereotype is so tired. These girls can throw down. Maybe it's a DC thing. In addition to all of the hot lesbians, there are quite a few cute boys there as well. One must be careful, though. Across the dancefloor what looks like a really cute boy often turns out to be a really cute lesbian. A lesboyan, if you will.
Anyway, the thing I like most about it is the music. They actually play hip hop. I'm not objecting to those fifteen-minute "Toxic" remixes--it's just that every once in a while I want to go back to my roots. I think I owe that to Penny Lynch who taught me how to dance to Doug E. Fresh at the seventh grade video dance.
So last night I danced my ass off and forgot about my worries. I had a boy tell me my shirt was cute and then that I was cuter. And it made my night. 'Cause every now and then it's a little harmless flirting that can brighten up anyone's day.