March 2007 Archives

Friday evening I was messing around with my camera, Flickr and booty brought from Arizona to create a small Mayan-Santería-Voodoo shrine to ensure the spirits were on our side for a win in today's rugby match:

The sun and moon loteria candles bring me power from the heavens, the clay ruggers bring camraderie to the team, while the rugby ball sees me as I see it - illuminated and as one.

And it worked! We won against our competitive rivals from Aberdeen, Maryland - Renegades 13, North Bay 7. And such a win is especially delicious when someone on the opposing team calls my teammate a 'faggot' during said game, making the victory that much sweeter.

Geek Alert: there's a new comic book store on 14th Street just next to Sparky's cafe. It's called Big Monkey Comics at 1722-B (2nd floor) 14th St., NW.

Here is an interesting crosswalk design nearby Big Monkey Comics intended to designate a clear pedestrian area to enhance the customer flow to businesses around the 14th and S Street areas, NW DC. 14th St. is otherwise a wide impassable street that isn't conducive to a walkable neighborhood area.

The time was 8:15pm on a Friday evening. I had gone to get my fly 'do done beforehand, followed by a workout, so I was pretty hungry. I made the mistake of deciding on the Safeway deli over Whole Foods. I approached the deli counter and most of the food was covered. Two employees were busy cleaning up and mopping, and I noticed that each had done at least one 360-turn each, so I couldn't have been missed even peripherally as I tried to peer through the opaque coverings over the food selection, clearly looking for some indication of what was underneath. A sign on the counter said it was open until 10pm, but no one bothered to say "Can I help you?" or even a courteous "I'll be with you in a minute..." But minutes passed as I cocked my head questioningly or squinted my eyes trying to figure out what there was to eat. Finally I said loudly: "Is the deli open?"

"Yeah, we're open, you don't have to shout."
I kept my voice loud and replied, "Well, you don't seem to see me, so I'm assuming you're blind as well as deaf."
"I see you, what do you want?"
"I'm looking for chicken, but everything is covered."
"What kinda chicken do you want?"
"I don't know, cuz I can't see what's underneath!"

I turned and left the deli counter, made an attempt at finding a manager, told her what the problem was, and went home for a TV dinner. I put up with a lot of contempt for customers and service in this city, but I have my limits.

Anyhow, apparently Karl Rove's rap routine this week was so pathetic that one could actually feel embarrassment for a despicable creature such as him. I don't even want to look at his routine, and I'm not going to. If hip-hop is on the decline as recent articles suggest, Rove apparently delivered an unmerciful coup-de-grace.

Yay for beards abroad and at home:

Facial Hair Required for Royal Air Force Regiments in Afghanistan

DanTan Sets Beard Trend in DC?

As for the second article, I say scruff was going on long before DanTan elevated to DC Diety. Tangherlini just looks great with his beard is all, and proves you can do a good job and still be scruffy.

Phoenix was quite unusual, because by and large the gay boys there had NO facial hair at all. I saw only one other gay boy with facial hair there. I was even asked about my beard while out and about on 3 different occasions. There are far more furry hipster beards in DC, or even Tucson. But when the temperatures started rising I could understand the Phoenicians' penchant for smoothness. It gets frikkin' hot there, too hot for extra fur.

I had my first rugby practice last night, although the practices have been going on for some time. My running outside of practice has REALLY helped this year, and last night wasn't as painful as I thought it would be, except for the hardpan clay-based shitty soil of our pitch, that is. I even got a good run in during a scrimmage, and there are many new cutie pies on the team. One new youngster looks like a less-evolved (that's a good thing) version of SG-1's Daniel Jackson, but with furry arms. Me like young cavemen. Anyway, we have matches tomorrow. Don't know if I'm playing, but the weather is looking good.

In my exciting tour of Arizona I completely forgot that the Battlestar Galactica finale happened on Sunday, even though I was in the home of two Big Geeks that weekend. However, they haven't seen the remainder of season 3 and were waiting to see the last episodes of the season.

Spoilers after the break for those of you who haven't seen it yet, but I must say it was the most bizarre yet suspenseful finale EVER! You. Will. Die. And you will die knowing you'll have to wait until 20-frikkin'-08 for the answers to whatever the hell is going on with the fleet.

I am sad to report that Lee Adama has lost his status as Imminently Stalkable to Sam Anders, played by the hunky Michael Trucco. His hair, that cute broken nose, and those guns had me at his first Pyramid match.

Skwurl: "OMG, OMG: when are you coming back?!?! We're going to start running when you get your bloated ass back to DC!!! OMG, OMG, are you back yet?!?"
Jimbo: ("Read the frikkin' blog, betch, and your questions will be answered....")
Skwurl: "OMG, OMG! When are you coming back?!?! We're going to start running when you get your 1/2 Norwegian, 1/4 Irish, 1/4 English white-ass back to DC!!! OMG, OMG, are you back yet?!?"
Jimbo: "I'm back! We can go running Wednesday night."
Skwurl: "Oh, I ate some acorns and now I have to stay home and study blah bleh blah blah..."

Um, whatever. I'll go run myself. And there were like 22 voice mail messages on my home phone when I got back from Tucson, all from people who read my blog. Do y'all just look at the pictures? I was not at home.

Anyway, I'm back to the grind, starting to think about rental units (house) in the $1,100 (max!) range in DuPont, Logan, U Street, Shaw, or LeDroit. I have until June 30, so I have the luxury of being picky at the moment. A garden would be nice, but I realize I may not be able to be that picky. No party gurls, no drama, fems are OK. I have fish, but no other furry animals other than myself. I'd rather not live in a shared situation. I am tidy, my rent is on time and my checks don't bounce. I fart occasionally, however.

Another photo by Panchesco - American Gothic featuring Jimbo and Homer:

Photo by Panchesco, which captures my spring break trip to Arizona nicely:

Dogpoet in Hawaii, far more woofy than the Bradys in Hawaii. My favorite: Dogpoet's guns.

And my current Amazon.com wish list, just for kicks and to annoy Starbucks barristae:

One more piece of woof errata: the adidas Active Skincare Sexiest Men in League contest.

Finally, Milwaukee Brewer and native Tucsonian J.J. Hardy, at spring training in Tucson:

So on my way up to Phoenix I stopped at the ostrich farm in the shadow of Picacho Peak at Homer's suggestion, completely unaware that the area was the location of the most westward Civil War battle, the Battle of Picacho Pass. A gentleman who shares my name was a union cavalryman Lieutenant James Barrett of the 1st California Cavalry, whose life ended because he had an itchy trigger finger. So I went into the ranger station and said, "OMG! My name is James Barrett too!" to which the hot daddylicious ranger said, "...and his body was never recovered." So like I said, "I have returned." And he was scared.

Anyway, that was trippy. The boys in Phoenix were lovely hosts and they are adorable together, and they make fine square hamburgers on the grill too. And big 'linky love' to Darren, "All Preparation and no 'H'" in Phoenix!

I am back in Tucson for a few days before I return to DC Tuesday night. The weather here has been lovely and I'm happy to report I have a rosy tan to my face. Aaaah...sunshine.

Chris and Michael don't judge me by my Tevas, at least not overtly:

Ostriches can be noble, especially with an inspiring background:

This photo of a cactus wren turned out really well:

Somebody help me, they're eating away at my hair care product:

Phoenix is very nice, and the weather is fantastic. I have a sunburn on my face! Chris and Michael are really cute except when they force me to run 22 miles all before 7am after a night out drinking.

Hey all you Teva-hatin' fashionista bitches - Jimbo says hi:

We skipped the Grand Canyon today because Homer was honkin' his nose all night and wasn't up for the drive, so we went east to Kartchner Caverns, where I went into a deep cave. Then we went to the San Pedro River where I got to see some vermillion flycatchers again. Here's Homer in a mesquite bosque looking for birds:

It has been raining here a lot! Tomorrow we go to Phoenix. Apparently Chris is gonna force me to run with Michael like at 6am or something. I tried to run up to the 'A' in Tucson on the hill yesterday, but the altitude...the altitude around here almost killed me. That and I'm totally out of shape.

Oh, I totally forgot to mention that Homer has been doing my genealogy while I've been visiting, which has been done before but I was wondering if Homer's master skills could provide any more insight.

Looking through census records, I'm terribly delighted to learn that I'm descended from a great-aunt named TILDA! Here is a photo of my great-aunt Tilda at her carriage upon arriving to the New World:


I would like to think I take after my great-aunt Tilda most of all.

Looking at the records I also wrote down all the interesting names of the brothers and sisters of my Norwegian ancestors. Most interesting names include: Jeno, Moody, Leander, Guri, Akim, Bothilda, Owner, Helper, Borghild and Asora. And the hottest Norwegian name ever, Haakon, brother of great-grandfather Nels H. Tolvstad (photo at right), Haakon also being the same name as the current crown prince of Norway, a rather hot fellow unto himself.

It is interesting to note that great-grandfather Nels H. Tolvstad (pictured at right), a mail carrier born in 1866, also worked the porn-star 'stache just as good as his ancestor Jimbo does. Hot porn-star staches and biking ability run in the family, clearly.

According to homer, I am 9th cousins once removed to Herbert Hoover and 13 other U.S. Presidents, including the despicable W and George Washington; King Edward III is my 19th great-grandfather, and I'm also apparently related to various royal families, including King Ferdinand (of Columbus and Queen Isabella fame). Homer also says we are distant cousins as well!

In a nutshell, I am 50% Norwegian, my mother being 100%. The other part of me is 1/4 Irish, with about a 1/8 English, the rest to be determined. Father's lineage includes last names such as Brennan, Bennett, Hewitt and Griffin.

Today Homer took me to see some ancient rock art and other prehistoric things just a stroll from his house:

After that we met some of Homer's friends at The Adobe Guest House, a cute garden paradise and guest house that I highly recommend for visits to Tucson:

Later on we went to the Sweetwater Wetland to spot some waterfowl. The artificially created area is a tertiary treatment for Tucson's sewage, which also happens to be a great place to see birds, like this cute Gambell's Quail:

Here's a Great Egret and some turtles:

And I think this is an American widgeon, but I left my bird book at home, so I'll have to check later:

Tomorrow we head out to the Grand Canyon, but I think Homer would rather pass up on that newfangled skywalk that was just built. Plus it isn't open yet. On the way back through Phoenix we'll be visiting Brian and woofy Chris.

OMG I made the flight without sleeping in this time! It was at 2:30pm so that helped.

Frontier Airlines names each of their planes after an animal. I was on the plane named 'Flip' after a Bottlenose Dolphin.

While flying we were parallel with another plane's contrail. When you look at a contrail from the side you can see that they are totally tubular structures of water vapor, rather than the percieved flat line that they look like from below.

When I disembarked Flip in Denver, I checked my ticket and found that my connecting gate was the one I had just left. It was Flip all the way to Tucson, and in the same seat OMG!

If there weren't screeching children near me the whole way, the flight would have been perfect. Quite a far cry from the Costa Rica mayhem. Again, no early morning flights ever!

I am now at Homer's house and have already said hello to Molly, Puff, Joey and Mama Cat. Tomorrow we will see a friend's garden and perhaps go to Gonkawalda Caverns or something like that.

I forgot my binoculars, but since this Tucson trip is all about Geology and not Ornithology that's OK.

Photo by OMG DJ TM™ of me and my dearest friend Jon being freaks together, as we do so well:


So like TJ finally calls me back, albeit on the busiest work day of the year, miraculously catching me in the office in a brief moment of lucidity from the day's madness...

Phone: ring, ring...
Jimbo: (hysterical work phone voice) "Hello! This is Jim!!!"
TJ: "OMG so like what happened at Blowoff?!?!"
Jimbo: "Umm...wouldn't you like to know, betch..."
TJ: "Oh yeah, I was in hibernation after eating some blueberries and didn't make it out of bed that day..."
Jimbo: "Yeah well nothin' really happened...I was really drunk and was hitting on this hot friend of Tos' named Jed but I think he was scared of me..."
TJ: "Well, you sounded drunk on the phone..."
Jimbo: "I was a little loud I think...the Spring Aura of Desperation is in full effect."
TJ: "So, like did anyone ask about me?"
Jimbo: "Yeah, and I told them you were dead to me."
TJ: "Well yeah but like I mean did anyone ask about me?"
Jimbo: "In passing, but Carl had Ruphus cornered the whole time at my house so I didn't really talk to either of them much, Clickboo was drunk...and Skwurl had some kind of Brazillian sugar cane Aztec buttcrack juice he made us all drink. Chrisafer and Bubbles and Aaron and Josh were there but I don't think they made it to Blowoff after my house...and a bunch of drunk rugger queens showed up too."
TJ: "But like did anyone ask about me?"
Jimbo: "Anyway, someone just burst into flames here at work so I gotta go."
TJ: "Well yeah but like I mean did anyone ask about me?"
Phone: "Bzzzz...."

This is Ruphus and Clickboo being leprechauns in my house:

Blowoff was a hoot from what I remember of it due to Skwurl's Brazillian sugar cane Aztec buttjuice drink. Spring was definitely in the air with me and other primates vying for supremacy, staging and posturing like the avian arrivals of spring. A mere hello to someone who is normally friendly while partnered becomes gruff and unresponsive while single and cruising.

So I go home for more of the same on Manhunt, noting the inordinate amount of unnatural smoothness online, a dozen or so screen names with 'masc' in the title, and wondering why guys on there are looking for dates when Match.com gets you more of that. My 90 days on there will not lead to much, I'm afraid.

Soon my tastes swing from strawberry to adorkable, especially when he tells me his thesis in 12 words or less, the unassuming lithe Jewishy entomologist and his study of mayfly nymphs and the fluid dynamics of their gill slits depending on the viscosity of seasonal water changes just gives me a boner these days...

Buncha drunk ruggers in my house too:

From the Buffy Sing-A-Long Myspace page, summer tour dates announced a show in DC!

July 20 & 21 (Fri. & Sat.) - Washington DC
at the Avalon Theatre.
10pm shows. Tickets on sale soon.

It was a good weekend. Today is a very busy day at work, if I survive, I'll tell more.

Tuesday, I'm off to Tucson to visit Homer, then to the Grand Canyon for the first time, then Phoenix!

A parting shot of some post-Patty's Day paddies:

To end the week of hunky leprechauns I give you the art of Blowoff by Linas Garsys:

March is generally my worst work month ever, but I've been holdin' it together and keepin' a cool head at work. It helps that we have several new but very energetic and motivated coworkers to help me out.

Tonight's cool rain should give the buds a boost out there. I'm already starting to smell the dogwoods in bloom. I'll keep my gardening to a minimum this spring as I don't care to leave my efforts behind in June.

Rusty Dewees is a Vermont performance artist who does a one man show called The Logger. The image is from his 2002 calendar (March: maple syrup season). Caption for the photo: "Hey Aunt Jemima, gather this!" Photo courtesy of Boobob:


And the sap is indeed flowing in the sugar maples of West Virginia, while spring peepers (a very tiny frog in charge of announcing spring) have already been heard in Maryland. While rugby practice has started, I'll be going to my first practice tonight now that it's warmed up a bit. Here's a pic by Blogstar Brettie of me from last fall, 2nd from left, swinging my arms like an ape as I gape at the cute scrumhalf on my team:



Once, not long ago, I wore glasses. But that was before I got laser-enhanced vision, which was well worth the $2,200 per eye:


This photo was taken by BlogStar Brettie last spring at the Bingham Cup in NYC. The gentleman at my shoulder is Raimundo from Anchorage, who was clearly cruising somebody at the time.

I got notice in the mail today that the landlord wants to move back into the house where I live, and that I'll need to move out by June 30. I live in the basement unit, and have a front and backyard, which has been nice to garden in. My neighborhood is generally quiet and nice. I get along with the upstairs roomates well, and have grown to like my 'hood and my spider roomates, but such is the fate of a renter.

I'm not ready to buy a home, either mentally or financially, and I don't think the current prices are worth the hype. People are still getting mugged and killed in the 20001 zip code. I'd still rather live in a rental unit in a house, but I know those prices have gone up too. I don't like condos or apartments, and would rather not have a roomate. I need my Jimbo Time.

So I need to mentally prepare for a move, and start considering my options. I'm about halfway through grad school, and free education as part of my work benefits ain't bad, and I think an MS in Public Affairs Management would help me a lot down the road. I get a decent salary but it's not high enough to both live in DC and allow for savings even without a car. I've been applying for many jobs in DC and Portland, Oregon, but no bites yet even though I'm very qualified for the ones I've applied to. I currently have the luxury of being selective.

It seems like applying to jobs in Portland from afar isn't working. I think they see my DC zip code and throw it in the trash. Plus focused job searches in environmental work doing communications are very competitive out there. Portland is like DC, but for the environmental set, in that it attacts a lot of highly qualified people. I think moving there would improve my chances for hiring consideration, but it would be a move without a job, which would be expensive.

So there are many big choices to think about: live in DC, on the Green Line, near work or where my friends live? Move to Portland or move within DC? Roomate or not? Shoot for a higher-paying job at the loss of free tuition benefits, or stay where I am and finish my degree as I work? There is time to think right now, which is good.

Been busy at work, too busy even to read blogs, then there's all these redhead submissions to deal with. Here's some jolly chinstrap boys filled to the brim with Guiness, courtesy of our most favorite Woof of the Week:

Other than that, grumble grumple, honey pot on fire, harrr, grrrr and other complaints.

UPDATE: many more leprechauns, both cute and scary, posted below.

Send me more pictures like the one below, and I'll post pictures of hot redhead leprechauns all week just for you.

Let's make it a challenge: hot scruffy shirtless redheads only, preferrably hairy and naturally-built. No 'roided out redheads please.

Now here's something not to send this week, submitted by TJ. Carrot "Top" on steroids helps me understand Skwurl's revulsion towards Daywalkers:


NOT scruffy, NOT furry, and kinda creepy.

Here's a fine example submitted by Mike at Life's a Krooz, not work safe!

Flying leprechauns are OK with me, submitted by Chuck at Howling Point:


This is what I'm talkin' about, the ever-favorite Concrete Man (Homo concretius) submitted by Jack at Fstclss Ramblings.



Scary gay redhead twins submitted by Homer.



From Boobob, a capricious kelpie - Kel*pie /'kelpe/ (noun): A water spirit of Gaelic folklore, reputed to delight in seducing and then drowning unsuspecting travelers. Straight outta Monster Manual II:

I did make it out to Woof on Friday after a post-work beauty nap. I'm happy to see it seems to start a bit later, as I'm normally unwilling to rush home from work and head out without a little decompression. It was ok, and at least four people raised their hands above their heads when I walked by and said, "I'm not fingering you!!!" So I guess a lot of people read Friday's entry...everyone behaved and nobodys fingers were broken.

Then we went out to Cobalt rather early, but that was OK as I'm just tuckered out by Friday. It was good to catch up with friends and listen to OMG DJ TM™ before the crowds showed up.

But before that Gurl and I had a little talk:

Gurl: "So how long has it been for you?"
Me: "I think it's been like since December, and over half a year since I've had some decent 'fur'."
Gurl: "OMG this is serious!"

So I broke down and joined Manhunt under much peer pressure, albeit without the help of the sagacious advice from The Jedi Master of Manhunt. Instead I chose to study under The Emperor.

And what they say is true - everybody is on Manhunt, and they're quite honest about what they're looking for! Some observations:

- I'm amazed at how many people online are willing to give blowjobs without reciprocation. I think that's a wonderful renewable resource.

- Next to HIV, body hair trimming remains the second greatest threat to gay society. There can't possibly be that many smooth bodies in the world.

- Again, I don't want to see a picture of your dog or you next to the Borobudur Temple in Indonesia, or wherever. Show me fur, and the rest of the goods.

- Guys, if you have to blur out your face, don't mask it using the white airbrush in Photoshop and then draw a smiley face where your head was. It frightens me. I'm going to have nightmares about cut smooth guys with blurry white smiley faces instead of a human head, chasing me down the street.

- There are a lot of guys on Manhunt complaining about being on Manhunt. I think the old wisdom our parents used to say rings true: "Go outside and get some exercise!" Fresh air will do you some good.

On Saturday the rugby team did some volunteering at the Shamrock Fest over at RFK stadium. It's basically a big festival where straight people get together to drink beer...and they drank and drank and drank. I realized that it was the straight version of a circuit party, and our communities aren't that different. Just as many straight people puke and pass out as gay people do at their venues.

Martini Gurlatalova was there too, and had an interesting observation: "...the only thing that I can use to determine if someone is gay now (in the city) is that the man is underweight."

Too true...it seems polarized in the city where you either have to be REALLY big like at Woof, or underfed and scrawny. Where's the in-betweeners in this town?

The newest dynamic duo on City of Heroes MMORPG: Shockka-Kahn and DreamGurl! Shockka is a magic-origin electricity blaster, and DreamGurl is a sonic-defender.

They protect all innocents in Paragon City on the Protector Server. DreamGurl is the creation of OMG DJ TM™ and Shockka is mine.

BTW OMG DJ TM™ is spinning tonight at Cobalt. I'll be there, will you? It's the ONLY thing going on tonight.

Well, aside from Woof, which I will attempt to attend beforehand if I can get a disco nap in after work. Fridays are usually not good for Webmasters, as people usually put off submitting things to the Webmaster until they reach a panic state on Friday, thus making Webmasters cranky.

So cranky, in fact, that if someone I don't know (friends are allowed) tries to finger my sphincter at Woof again, I'm going to break that finger. Say hello before fingering - or else.

But there are those who I wish would finger me and more, especially while sporting a porntastic 'stache. Chris over at Boy's Briefs was porntastic for a few precious moments. I love the handlebar, it works for him, but not the used car salesman 'stache.

This is St. Metrorailus of Dantantius, patron saint of all suffering commuters:

Various tidbits of news and information from my blessed readers:

Miss Manners movie review of the Empire Strikes Back.

From JoeMyGod: Trekkie Recreates Awesome Set of Star Trek: Voyager in a Studio Apartment.

OMG Kylie. Kylie walks down stairwell safely, wearing pink. Entire southern hemisphere watches in awe.

ALERT: the already woofy husband of Madonna, Guy Ritchie, has been spotted wearing a fake porntastic 'stache for Purim, some kinda crazy Jewish holiday.

Anyway, it is clear that Madonna has good taste, as always.

More hotness from across the pond, courtesy of a dellwood newsflash, Gerard Butler of The 300:

It's only Wednesday and it's already been a wooftastic week.

Most definitely not porntastic, unless it's 70's twink porntastic, from the upcoming motion picture Blades of Glory:

Featuring Will Ferrell and Jon Heder (Napoleon Dynamite), "coming out" in theaters Friday, March 30. It looks like a hoot.

I present to you my last-minute, late-night Mid-Term Exam/Case Study on Integration & Case Application of the Congressman Mark Foley Scandal for my Leadership and Decision Making grad school course.

Imagine if you will that I am the House Majority Speaker Dennis Hastert as the scandal broke out, and must use my knowledge of leadership and decision-making biases, theories and studies to apply to proper decisions on how to judge and manage. Here's an exerpt:

Curiously, Congressman Foley was chairman of the House Caucus on Missing and Exploited Children, which worked on creating laws targeting sexual predators and creating stricter guidelines for tracking them. One would think, based on Leon Festinger’s theory of cognitive dissonance, that Foley would be motivated to reduce the cognitive imbalance in his life between his actions towards underage boys and the legislation he helped create. But this was not the case, and understanding this apparent disconcern for such a radical dissonance in his life is beyond my academic and psychological experience and education to comment.

Summary statement: "Like, OMG get that perv outta here!"

Thoughts about cognitive dissonance are appropo in light of the most recent not-gay Gannonite shill to come out of the woodwork.

Everyone is checking their e-mail, but no one is actually reading it.

Blogs become exponentially more interesting as the due date for your mid-term exam paper approaches.

Bitch, no it's not funny when you're driving the wrong way down a busy one-way street AND talking on your cell phone. You almost hit the cute bike messenger. Get that smile off your face before I slap it off like how Charlene's gonna bitch slap the next fucker that says "faggot".

The promise of a snow day becomes less exciting the more miles you tread on icy, unshoveled sidewalks in DC.

Surprise porn-stars-as-conservative-shills that keep appearing from the ether surprise me less often as they used to. But don't worry, judging by Gannon's writing career, they get less than 15 minutes of fame.

Deadly staph infections aren't as funny as they used to be when your friend gets sick from it.

Don't drink a Guiness an hour and a half before your mid-term exam paper deadline.

250 drag queens impersonating Kylie Minogue. How could I have missed it?

At left, Barrett Long on Hairyblokes.com. Nice name.

(Not work safe, yo.)

I suppose y'all are expecting some kinda cranky response to the foul gasses that came out of that emaciated drag queen conservative-creature's mouth this weekend. Eh, she's a media whore and knew exactly what she was saying and got the expected response. She's tired and needs to eat a sandwich. Just keep talkin', Skeletor, keep talkin' and diggin' that hole ever-deeper.

I suggest y'all keep lookin' at hot gay porn and try to keep her out of your thoughts.

Since I'm such a big 'ol "gerd," I would like to discuss this season's geek television finale episodes of Battlestar Galactica and Heroes, after the break as to not be a spoiler if you haven't seen them yet...

This weekend me, Twan and Skip the Evil Veterinarian went out to West Virginia to hit the slopes. On the way there, we stopped at the National Radio Astronomy Observatory in Green Bank, West Virginia, home of the world's largest fully steerable telescope:

I was disappointed that the visitor center wasn't directly adjacent to this gigantic miracle of science. They do offer bus tours that go near the thing, however:

Much of the visitor center was a fine example of pork barrel spending, the interpretive displays never really telling us what the telescope was for. We had fun with the displays though. Do these mirrors make us look fat?

But I guess the telescope was built to study the Sun, planets and other objects in our own solar system, as well as distant stars, galaxies, and other mysterious objects many millions, or even billions of light-years away.

Twan managed to find a 'crystal radio' at the visitor center gift shop, with which he hoped to turn on, tune in, and drop out.

I'm going to use this pic on my BigMuscleBears profile as an alternative to the typical cheesy bathroom mirror shot:

Help me. The aliens' parabolic mirror is burning my hand:

Oh yeah, and we went skiing and snowboarding too. There are no pictures of this because I didn't want to smash my camera in the many wipeouts I performed, or take it out in the wet snow or blizzard.

The conditions were not the best as it had rained in the mountains just as it had in DC on Thursday, so the slopes were icy and the powder grainy. But I didn't know how badly I needed to get out of town until I was away, as usual. I need to remember this. Twan did very well for his first time snowboarding, and Skip the Evil Veterinarian enjoyed his much-needed ski time. I went night 'boarding under a full moon on Friday when the conditions were the best, but Saturday found me pretty tired and the snow was crappy, slushy or icy. The core-body exercise will certainly help me with the upcoming rugby practices, however. Today there was a full-blown blizzard on top of the mountain, but I was sore all over and ready to get back home. My butt still hurts from falling, and not in a good way. But it was a great escape from the city and I enjoyed the perspective of being away for a while.

Some words of wisdom before the weekend: High-Concentrate Joy diswashing liquid is not a good substitute for when you run out of Sun-Light dishwashing machine detergent. The two substances act markedly different in the dishwashing machine:

Oh well, the floor needed mopping anyway. Everything is sparkly-clean and lemony fresh now!

I was wondering why my diswashing machine sounded muffled for so long during its first wash cycle.

Sometimes I write entries because it makes me feel better. Sometimes my questions are rhetorical. Sometimes there's no point to what I write here, and its just me venting and ranting for the sake of catharsis. In the olden days thats what blogs were initially for, and I intend to keep it real at least some of the time.

That's not to say that I'm not green with envy that Joe is getting a 'legit' blog deal with ads and banners and stuff. I also like to blog because it helps me write better, and allows me to share my ideas. It would be nice to get some bucks after all these years, or to write for something I'm passionate about (other than me as the subject) and earn some pay. But then again I've heard too many stories from fellow old-skool bloggers that started writing for a service and hated it, because writing for pay took a lot of the fun out of it.

Anyway, back to narcissism and self-absorbed thoughts: Gurl asked me a funny question the other day that took me off guard but made me think. "Jimbo, do you like dating?" The question came after a discussion about dating versus tricking in getting to know people, and how Gurl is always so amazed by the number of dates that I go on.

My answer was, "Well of course I don't like dating for the sake of dating. I don't do it because I like the practice. I'm doing it to get to know people with the ultimate goal of finding that special someone some day." Dating is expensive, and sometimes uncomfortable or inconvenient. But I have nothing to complain about from the past year - I've met lots of wonderful guys and had some nice dinner conversations. But that doesn't always get you laid and the payouts aren't always worth the effort. I'm a big 'ol romantic girl at heart, and am looking for that spark of interest that makes me passionate about being with someone.

I wouldn't go so far to say singleness is an illness. I really like my private time to regenerate, and contrary to some may perceive I'm actually an introvert, if you go by the technical description of the personality type. I'm incredibly social when I'm well-rested and have had my private time to myself, but if I'm worn out from work or a tight schedule, I'm admittedly the last person you'll want to be around. I don't gain energy from socialization, I have to have energy in the bank before I socialize. That's why dating isn't actually enjoyable to me, because it takes energy, unless I'm energized by the person in question, which has been rare of late.

Anyhow, my current thoughts on the topic are much like what Gay Canuck in the Capital writes, as he seems to get that question quite often as well. I'm not going anywhere on this topic, because sometimes a blog is for venting and catharsis.

I am going snowboarding tomorrow with ski slope partner Skip, the Evil Veterinarian, out at Snowshoe in West Virginia. It might rain out there, which would make the slopes all icy, which sucks for snowboarding. Or it might come down as snow out there, which would be nice. Anyhow, I'm fortunate to have friends (with cars) who ski, because I gave up on that Yahoo Groups gay/les/bi/whatever ski group, becuase it struck me as a marketing vehicle for the travel industry. Not cool. I get enough SPAM in my e-mail box, and don't need to be part of a marketing effort under the guise of an organization.