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June 30, 2006
Overheard in DC: Guerilla Queer Bar edition


062906_23071.jpg, originally uploaded by chrisafer.

The lovely and talented Parker Livingston overheard this gentleman at last night's GQB.

Fuzzy cameraphone pics might hide it, but this man is wearing a turquoise top (if it's too tight or too loose it's a top, not a shirt), flowy white short/pant/capri type things, and matching white bracelet and flip-flops. He also had perfectly zhooshed product in his hair.

SO the man who looked gayer than anyone else there gets on his cellphone and says, "Dude, there are a lot of homosexuals here."





June 28, 2006
Mea Culpa

I may have misunderestimated the pain the rain had caused. Just this afternoon, I heard from a friend that he was stuck in awful, awful traffic trying to get from Georgetown to Logan Circle. It was so bad that he parked and went and got a drink at JR's.

Being stuck at JR's! It's far worse than I ever could have imagined.




An Open Letter to the Raging Bitch at the Black Cat Last Night

Dear Mitzy,

I'm so sorry that my friends talking to each other bothered you to the point of making angry/sad faces to your whipped boyfriend. That exaggerated "chatter" gesture with your hands was a nice touch too. I really wish we could have done something to make you happy. Like perhaps send you back to the living room of your Arlington high-rise where you could just listen to the CD and shutthefuckup.

Don't get me wrong, endless yelling at concerts can be annoying. But talking into someone's ear isn't that. I was standing closer to my friends than you and I heard every note and danced and sang and had fun. In fact the only signal I had that they were talking was your glare.

Also? You were right near the bar. That's where people order drinks. They usually have to talk to do that. If you were a real fan, you would be up front by the stage. Not on the edge of the crowd.

When you're an adult and you live in a city, you have to learn to ignore things. You ignore the person on the bus who doesn't use enough deodorant. You ignore the self-important ass on his cell phone in line at your local coffee shop. You ignore the mentally unstable woman who says things like "the shrimp is Paul" to parking meters. And you ignore the tourists. Especially the tourists.

Apparently, you haven't learned this lesson. You, I fear, are one of those people who need to feel moral outrage at even the slightest social faux pas. You need to make faces at people. You crave the adrenaline of anger. You are the love child of Miss Manners and Joseph Goebbels. Your desire for order--and by that I mean everything being the way you say it should be--is compulsive to the Nth degree.

Funny enough, though I tried to ignore you, I could not. You were making such a spectacle of yourself, the bliss of ignorance was elusive. I was able to not let other things bother me--the blue-green glow of the screen of the obsessive text messager next to you, the chain-smoking couple who never learned the art of blowing smoke away from others, the drunk Jennifer who kept singing the wrong words, the funnyman who screamed out "FREEBIRD" whenever there was a break in the set. None of these things got under my skin the way you did by letting my friends get under yours.

So, Mitz, I just want to say that you grabbing your boyfriend's hand and pulling him to the other side of the room was very welcome. Maybe next time you can pull him out of the club and away from all other human beings doing things of which you don't approve.

Kisses,
Chrisafer

p.s. Hillary Clinton called from 1992, she wants her headband back. (i.e., you are so not going to bring that trend around again).




June 27, 2006
Moist as a Snackcake

Can we just establish one firm rule for coverage of the GREAT DC RAINS OF AUGHT SIX? In no way shape or form can we compare this to Katrina (as I saw one man do on the local news last night when talking about Cameron Run overflowing).

I'm sorry if your car was flooded with sewage. So sad that your commute to NoVa is 90 minutes longer and you actually had to ride the bus like a poor person. It's a shame your umbrella leaked too. But it's not Katrina. Not even close.

I do have to join express's Free Ride in giving props to DanTan (a registered trademark of Jimbo) for facing the public on a WaPo chat. He really is a great manager and seems to (shock, horror) care what riders say. Maybe he can even use his magical powers to get the S1, S2, and S4 buses to pace themselves a little better.

It could be because I live in the Heights and don't really commute that far, but I can't help but feel that a lot of the rain/flooding coverage is overblown. Of course, that seems to be the way all news is.




June 26, 2006


June 21, 2006
Stop Being Stupid

Dear World,

Technology doesn't make life more or less dangerous. You have to be rational. You have to take responsibility for your own actions and those of your dependents.

So you can't sue MySpace because you were sexually assaulted. You don't sue the mall when a perv picks you up in the food court. It is not MySpace's job to be your parent. It is your parents' job to be your parent. Hence the name.

Also, don't flip out and assume a cabbie is trying to scam you just because he has your phone number. It is your phone number, not the secret password to your goodies. And if you don't want the cabbie to know where you live, have him drop you off three blocks from your house.

But be sure to sue him if you get mugged walking those three blocks.

xoxo,
Chrisafer


p.s. And a special shout out to Andrew "But I AM Cool" Sullivan. It's nice that you double-plus love Sigur Rós, but if you're going to be pretentious about it you should use the accented "o." It's a simple ó away. Also? If you love Scandanavian music so much you should have made it to Hej Hej last night. Like the rest of us pretentious DC types.




June 20, 2006
Why We Both Work in Communications

Me [on the phone]: ... I need to get sugar to make that since I used it all up last night. I guess I'll stop at Giant on the way home.

Glenn [on the other end]: Oh, if I'm going to make that sticky rice and mango, I'm going to need a new saucepan.

Me: Okay, well, I can pick that up while you drop the car off.

Glenn: Sounds good.

Me: What size?

Glenn: Just like the one you used last night to make the General Tso's.

Me: But what size saucepan do you need?

Glenn: Regular size.

Me: Give me inches!!

Gay Temp [walking past my office]: **snicker**

Glenn: Do you want to rephrase that?

Me: How big do you need the pan to be?

Glenn: The same kind you used last night.

Me: I used two pans.

Glenn: Oh. Well the one everything ended up in.

Me: That's not a saucepan. That's a frying pan.

Glenn: Oh, whatever, one just like that.




I Will Not Vote for Linda Cropp

I will not vote for Linda Cropp.
I do not like her, Jack, you whack.

I won't vote for her in the booth.
I won't vote for her, that's the truth.
She's had her time as council chair
And produced nothing but hot air.


I have to say, everyone lining up behind Linda Cropp just pisses me off. I do not understand why anyone thinks she'd be a good leader. There's nothing inspiring whatsoever about her.

As an aside, I have a really lame PC-language grudge against her for allowing herself to be referred to as Council Chairman for nearly a decade. I know many people will think it silly, but I believe words mean things. When someone says "Call your congressman..." they are creating a world where the default is male, a world that makes a female congressperson the exception. I went to college in the early '90s--when English 101 classes suggested using gender-neutral language. It's an idea I support fully. I don't man an information booth, I staff it. When talking about abstract people, I try to use the plural as much as possible since it's not really gendered. I'm whacky in that I want my language to strive for inclusiveness as much as possible. (The one exception being manhole cover, because person-hole is taking the whole thing just a bit too far.) And, yes, as I've said I know this is all silly to most people, but underneath my Brooks Brothers shirt pulses the blood of a true-blue hippie.

But back to the race for DC Mayor. I hate that the race has basically come down to Cropp and Adrian "Not Without My Blackberry" Fenty because of the gross amounts of money both have raised. I really am starting to like the things I hear from Marie Johns. I suggest you check her out. Unless you don't live in DC, in which case I've just utterly bored you.




June 16, 2006
From the Makers of the "Kelly Likes Shoes" Thong....

I wanna know!A few nights ago, in celebration of the brief return visit of our buddy Pauly to D.C., Glenn and I went to Dan's for dinner. In one of those wonderful cosmic events, it just so happened that Dan's apartment building was hosting a wine tasting that evening. Score.

As the boys and I enjoyed the cheese and crackers and vino and other assorted goodness, I noticed a couple. They were in their 20s and seemed to be having a good time. I thought, though, that the t-shirt the guy was wearing was quite yellow. Yellow is one of those colors I just don't wear. In fact, the fear of having to wear a yellow t-shirt is the one of the reasons I refuse to join a kickball team. The other being I hate flipcup and shrieking, both of which seem to be requirements for the sport.

(As a further aside related to kickball, one of the things I think describes the District and its lawyer overpopulation problem best is the fact that we have been home to lawsuits concerning both kickball and drag queens. Go us!)

So, back to the man in the yellow shirt. From across the room, I could barely make out the image on the front of his tee. I moved closer. Is that? No. It couldn't be.

It was.

Someone made a t-shirt referencing the Youtube leprechaun news piece.

Glenn and I went up to the guy and told him that we liked his shirt. He smiled. "He's been waiting for weeks for someone to get that joke," his girlfriend said.




Just Like John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt

Two lovely New Yorkers sent me news that someone with my very same name got stabbed multiple times on the subway. In case you were worried, it wasn't me. I am not from Texas (thankfully). I am not 21 (though I could pass--in the dark). And I don't have a girlfriend named Ganda. Though I have toyed with using that as a new nickname for Glenn.

Best wishes for a speedy recovery to one of the many other CMcC's in the world.




June 13, 2006


June 12, 2006


June 07, 2006
Umm, Yeah...

'I don't believe there's any issue that's more important than this one,' said Republican Sen. David Vitter.

Right. Now that we've won the "War on Terr'r"™", stopped the rest of the world from despising us, solved our dependence on foreign oil, fixed Medicare and Social Security, reduced our debt, tackled our trade deficit, made our education system tops in the world, finally figured out that pesky abortion issue, figured out what needs to be done with our immigration policy, and, dear Senator from Louisiana, fixed the levies in New Orleans and revamped our response to natural disasters, I'd have to agree--nothing is more pressing for our country at this point than keeping Melissa Etheridge and Tammy Lynn Michaels from registering at Pottery Barn.


Katherine Harris laughs with hate for 'mos. Shocker.





   

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