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So the other night at the gym some Masshole just sauntered up to the television and changed the channel from the Packers to the Patriots game. This is what happens out here on the East Coast – all these reetahds out here think everything is all about some goddamn Boston franchise and they all wear their stupid Red Sox hats all the time and it’s kind of annoying how awesome they think they are. I want to drown them in a vat of batterfried cheese curds and then let their lightly breaded corpse freeze over on the 50-yard line at Lambeau Field and den put dem in da chipper and feed da rest to da giant nordern pike up dere in Hayward dontcha know.

I was about to have conniptions from being torn away from my future husband Aaron Rodgers but then I noticed that Patriots QB Tom Brady now looks like a cute baby caveman and half his teammates look like they just hopped off a Viking* longboat and then I made this Scooby-Doo sound like “URRRGH!?” Maybe the Patriots aren’t so nauseating after all.

Particularly fascinating was Matt Light’s large Kris Kringle beard. As one of the Patriots’ line of Viking raiders he has the best Viking raider beard of all, and I could listen to him talk all day with that rumbling voice of his. Rawrrrr….

*Not the evil kind of Viking that wears purple, but the real ones from Scandinavia and The Netherlands.

The rafting trip went well and the weather this weekend was perfect. We had a good guide and set of paddlers and never spilled over the two days of rafting. My raft was filled with drama-free conversant gays who were also experienced paddlers, so it was generally a good time.

However on Sunday at the first set of challenging rapids, we passed by some rocks where several rafts and their passengers had been hauled up out of the water. None of them were moving much or talking, and they were all watching a grim person who was dragging the bottom of the river with a thick rope.

So they decreased the amount of water flowing from under the dam so they could retrieve the body easier with less current. The scene set a sober tone for the rest of the day. But less water flowing down the river meant less challenging rapids. But that was OK with most of us after seeing what we did.

Since it was a mostly gay group on the rafting trip, there were requisite bottom jokes all weekend. I don’t mean bottom of the river jokes, but jokes about those who assume the receptive role in anal intercourse. A few cracks here and there are expected, but there seemed to be more bottom jokes than normal with this group.

When people constantly crack jokes about bottoms it’s clear there are issues somewhere with someone being uncomfortable being a bottom. I believe there is a grain of truth at the center of every joke and perhaps since some people aren’t comfortable being bottoms (perception of receptive anal intercourse being a “female” role and thus inferior blah blah blah…), so these same people joke about bottoms all the time. And there was a lot of joking, so I think almost everyone on this trip was a bottom.

Some day we will all be comfortable with bottoming and bottoms and it won’t be an issue anymore. Until then we have Power Bottom Appreciation Day which is October 30th to help raise awareness and knowledge of bottoms and bottoming. Thanks TJ for helping address this sensitive issue as it clearly is a source of discomfort for those power bottoms who are ashamed of their role and can’t stop joking about bottoms.

Our river guide told us that in someone’s yard near the river there is a life-size plaster Jesus centaur. I need to confirm this some day. Was centaur Jesus a top? We may never know, but I’ll bet power bottoms wonder about it all the time.

Two weeks without rugby and I’m a cranky bitch with rusty steel wool in my vadge. The sport really helps burn off aggression, tension and stress for me. But now that it’s over for the season I have no outlet other than the gym, so I have to burn off the rest plotting to overthrow WMATA. Hopefully my relief valve will be installed soon. The heat didn’t help, but a storm recently passed through and much of the humidity is gone this week.

I recently got a new bike. I hadn’t planned on it, but had thought about it since its last tune-up where the repair guy told me my drive train was on its last legs. Right before my WI/MN trip I popped the rear wheel and bent the rim trying to jump a curb improperly to avoid some randomly wandering tourist. So last week I went to the bike shop for repairs, carrying it up the hill in 100 degree heat. Anyway, the same guy who looked at my bike the last couple of times for tune-ups was still there, and he explained that the cost of replacing my rear wheel plus the necessary replacement of my ancient drive train wouldn’t be worth it. It was 20 years old so he probably had a point. While I was home in Wisconsin I scanned some old photos and happened to come across a pic of me with the old bike and my trusty Ford Festiva, some time in 1993:

So my new bike is a road bike. I’m not sure how I like it as I’m used to mountain bikes. It is a Specialized Sirrus Sport commuter bike:

In other heath and fitness news, I went to an orthopaedic specialist to have my back and shoulder looked at. My sports medicine doc, chiropractor and main doctors all agreed that I should get it looked at by a specialist. But all he could tell me was to keep up my regular strength training, and call him for muscle relaxants when I throw it out, which should be expected of a person my age. Ummm…well OK then I guess he had seen worse cases earlier in the day. And he said our shoulders are a complex bundle of tendons and muscles and that my pain was minimal and that it would heal. I guess I am thankful I don’t need surgery or an MRI, but I was expecting something more specific. Oh well, I’m officially OK now I guess.

Sorry for the absence. It was a pretty busy vacation, with my brother’s heterosexual commitment ceremony followed by the very busy rugby tournament. I will share a few brief notes.

The trip started out with a shitpile of a flight out of DCA thanks to Delta. I guess there were big storms in the Midwest which delayed my first flight, it got worse from there, but I managed to take a nice photo of National Airport before I flew out:

The photo was taken with the PhotoFX application on my Motorola Droid, which is sort of a knockoff of the iPhone’s Hipstamatic in case you were wondering. It really enhances cell phone photos nicely.

Anyway, the delay out of DC made for a flight rearrangement to two Delta planes, both of which needed repairs. This made my miss my flight from Minneapolis to LaCrosse, but I got a rental car to drive home the rest of the way, which got me in at about 2:30am. I was stopped by a hot scruffy police officer who was concerned that my brights were still on. Perhaps I was too agreeable to whatever he asked, and he let me free with no ticket.

The car actually gave me a little more freedom in my hometown to drive around when I wanted to, so I think it was worth it. I did some geneaology work and mostly confirmed a lot of information that Homer had painstakingly gathered for me. I took a lot of photos of family tombstones, possibly not the right ones, and I have to sift through them to figure out who was whom.

I also visited the World’s Largest Six-Pack in LaCrosse:

The wedding went well but there were lots of cupcakes left over which I was glad to help get rid of. I also had a nice dinner at the Trempealeau Hotel with mom. It rained every day so I didn’t get the chance to go down on the bike trail as much as I wanted to.

I drove back up to Minneapolis for the rugby tournament, which was possibly the most exciting Bingham Cup tournament for the team ever. The level of play for many gay teams has improved, particularly Los Angeles, New York and our two teams. I was with the B-side, and we managed to beat Sydney in the semifinals and made it to the finals, losing in a valiant match to Sydney 10-7. The As placed 4th in their division.

I met Sean and Darren one evening early in the tournament schedule at Hell’s Kitchen in Minneapolis, and it was good to meet them both! I told Darren that his relatives had the greatest representation in my hometown cemeteries and that they bred like rabbits. There are very few pics of me from the tournament, I was fairly busy getting ready for the matches, but several of us on the team shaved down to dirty ’staches, which I kept for the weekend.

The flight back was much nicer than the first, and I took a day off to settle in and I’m glad I did. Before I left for the trip I hit a curb fast with my 20 year-old Trek, and bent the rim. When I took it in they declared it to not be worth the repairs, which I had suspected was coming. So I bought a new Specialized Sirrus Sport commuter/road bike:

My former bike was so old and beat up I never worried much about it getting stolen, but now I’m paranoid my new baby will get lifted. But I got a better lock for this one and I don’t leave it out much so it should be OK.

Congrats to the University of Wisconsin – Stevens Point men’s basketball team for winning the Division III title! I think Maryland lost their game but I hear it was a nail-biter. I don’t follow basketball much but it was good to see both my universities doing well.

It is the eve of the big health care reform vote and things have been ugly on the Hill. It’s amazing to see so many people who would benefit from it fight so strongly against it, but such is the way of the Republican thralls who react in terror to any minor scare tactic, most of which are lies.

Personally, I give a shit due to an experience with bad health care coverage when I was unemployed. I chose to take a few months of COBRA health coverage, and I was assigned Fortis health care. While I was under their “care” I came down with a sinus infection. They wouldn’t cover the cost of meds for treating it because I had experienced sinus infections before. At a time when I was worried about paying rent, the expensive COBRA costs, and looking for work I didn’t need to be fighting a monolithic institution for something that could be easily cured. It turns out Fortis’ draconian policies extended to other groups in need as well. Anyway, here’s some compassionate teabaggers mocking a person who could use health care coverage.

Today I went on a long bike ride with Sean across the National Mall, over the Memorial Bridge, past National Airport and down through Alexandria to cross yet another bridge to reach National Harbor. There, the Peeps & Company store overwhelmed me with all that it had to offer:

A full gallery of photos from the trip can be viewed here. The store also sells Hot Tamale and Mike & Ike memorabalia too.

The walkway that links you from the bridge to Alexandria and National Harbor is pretty nice. Plenty of room for walkers and bicyclists, safe from traffic and even with sound barriers in some places. The areas at each end of the bridge are nicely landscaped with lots of interpretive signage about Maryland, Virginia and DC history and wildlife facts. It’s certainly worth a trip. If you can get _under_ the bridge from the Alexandria side it’s pretty cool too.

We also saw a parhelion – or sun dog – in the sky during our trip. The photo turned out pretty good, and here’s a photo of the phenomenon taken through the lens of my sunglasses.

Here’s an adorable pic of two mustachioed gays at their wedding. It is unfortunate some think well-coordinated outfits and a clever cake are so threatening.

Does anybody know where Matt Leigh is? He needs to come to rugby practice.

Washington D.C. Section 902 of the Animal Control Code requires hens to be 50 ft. from any residence. Citizens are currently working to eliminate the 50 ft. rule, and to modify the requirement that you have to get written consent from all your neighbors before you keep chickens. Currently, chickens are neither legal nor expressly illegal in D.C.

The rest of this blog entry is either vile, lascivious and/or juvenile. Some links or videos are totally not safe for work, and are only included to further embarrass Matt Leigh, who needs to come to rugby practice.

Jiz and the Mammograms (hat tip to Richard):

When I was a kid I used to watch reruns of “The Wild, Wild West” featuring Robert Conrad as James West. His ass made me gay, and I found a YouTube video montage of scenes showing his ass in those tight bolero pants, put to tacky South Beach dance music:

Every single episode of that show climaxed with him being tied up and shirtless, and his sidekick Artemis Gordon somehow having to dress up in drag for no apparent reason. I blame my homosexuality on that television program.

I stole this image off Joe.My.God’s blog some time last summer. The photo makes me smile:
I just purchased my tickets for the 20th Night of 1,000 Stevies event at Highline Ballroom on May 14th. I’m not yet sure I’ll be going in Stevie Nicks drag, but I am going to start work on the greatest sequined rhinestoned silk-gauzed tambourine mankind has ever seen. It’s going to be a fucking artifact when I’m done, I promise you all.
So last night’s Grammy Awards show was more entertaining than previous shows. Well, at least the first half of it was, but the second half was a snoozer and I felt embarrassed for some of the performers. Like the aforementioned Stevie. Girl, who was that off-key performer you were singing with? They kept mentioning that other artist and I’ve never heard of her and I certainly wasn’t impressed. And she keeps getting awards and I don’t understand why. Gaga was as crazy as expected, and her duet/medley with Elton John was brilliant, but she’s gonna have to shift her disco-schtick soon as it’s getting predictable. And why did Beyonce have to ask for United Nations peacekeeping troop assistance in her coreography? And why don’t she ever perform ‘Single Ladies’ live? Is it too hard to perform live? And gurl don’t you ever, EVER touch an Alanis song ever again! That was heresy.
The big surprise hit of the evening was Pink and her aerialist act – WHILE SHE SANG. That was amazing, simple, beautiful and elegant with no shocking pyrotechnics, costumes or U.N. troops. While everyone was trying to out-fierce The Ga, Pink came in quietly and took the evening by suprise. GO TEAM PINK.
Plans are in motion to migrate this blog to a new content management system, most likely Wordpress. I’ve enjoyed Moveable Type over the years but their comment SPAM defenses have weakened of late. I’ve been flagging dozens of SPAM messages every day and they just won’t let up. They make the occasional real comment from crazy fake bloggers seem like a cakewalk, but I just can’t take it anymore. I might just start from scratch if migrating the content is a pain. I will have to re-block aforementioned blog comment crazies again, but since they don’t seem to understand the concept of Internet Protocol address tracking it’s not much of a problem.
Rugby practice starts on Tuesday, February 23rd. It’s gonna be cold, but this year we have secured the use of Cardozo High School’s artificial turf field for the season. So it won’t be hard, cold mud. The faster backs don’t care for the artificial turf as it does leave horrible burns if you wipe out running at a fast pace. But I like it because it’s a nice, soft pitch to play on most of the time. Start training now if you’re interested. A strong core body and/or some decent cardio support are a must. Here’s the info:

Vacation: FAIL. Can we do the past week over again? I did manage to have a nice hike in the Valley of Fire (photos interspersed between rants and rambling paragraphs) with some teammates on Friday, and later that night a few of us enjoyed the LE RÊVE aquatic spectacular at the Wynn Las Vegas, but when I returned to my hotel after the show I got hit with a bad case of the chills, followed by alternating fever and cold sweats for the rest of the evening. Skip the Evil Veterinarian thinks it was food poisoning, but the congestion in my head and full-body soreness makes me think it was the flu that had me in bed all day Saturday. So I missed the match that we had all gone there to do, which they won without me.
Thankfully I was rested up enough to travel back in moderate health by Sunday, but managed to leave my wallet somewhere at the Denver Airport. It still hasn’t turned up but at least nothing was charged on my cards. I’m now in the process of replacing everything that was in the wallet, including my work/government credit card, the lack of which has complicated planning for an upcoming work trip to Kansas City. So it’s been a crappy week.

Having had the flu on vacation reminded me that the states I traveled through were both featured as the final battlegrounds in Stephen King’s ‘The Stand‘. Anyway, we stayed in the craptastic (but affordable) Tropicana, which I don’t recommend at least until they complete their renovations and temporal updates to pull their building out of the late ’60s. The hotel currently hosts Wayne Newton and ‘Let’s Make a Deal’ weekly filming.
My thoughts on Vegas are that it is an amazing place and the main strip is a marketing wonder of the world designed to suck every penny out of your pocket. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, and if you like gambling it’s a fun place. But I simply don’t get gambling. I tried slots and Blackjack but I still don’t get it. Why aren’t these gambling people satisfied playing World of Warcraft? I’m just not designed for Vegas, but I did like the climate. The breeders on the team had a great time though, as I believe Vegas is the heterosexual capitol of the world. Here is a photo of several aforementioned heterosexuals, and one homosexual. Can you spot the homo?

I must highlight my super-homotastic skills of observation at the LE RÊVE show, where I noticed the appearance of a character during the performance who just didn’t seem to fit into the obtuse storyline. I said to my neighbors “OMG that’s Kelly Ripa!” and they all nodded their heads to keep me quiet. “Calm yourself, excitable homo,” they probably thought to themselves. But when I got home I did a little research and found out that she was in Vegas filming a few Regis and Kelly episodes that weekend, and Kelly had indeed made a cameo at the show. Do not doubt the ultra-keen combination of my laser-enhanced vision and entertainment knowledge ever again!
The trailer for Real World DC is out. I hate myself for wanting to watch some of it.
We had quite the gayla this week at the White House, and everyone is aware that David Geffen’s 24 year-old boyfriend is kinda hot. But when can we stop calling Gayle King “Oprah’s Best Friend”?
From BooBob: Austin based singer/songwriter Bob Schneider is this week’s Hot Bearded Talented Guy of the Week:

Is there lust after Favre? Apparently so in Aaron Rodgers, who is much more of a facial hair chameleon than that other guy ever was.
Bear and nerd hygene: brush your teeth like a Spartan & get geeky-clean with some d20 designer soap.
Two excellent covers this week, a very sweet twist on Cece Peniston’s ‘Finally‘, and an incredible ‘Muppet cover of Bohemian Rhapsody‘. My favorite part is Janice’s kick ass guitar solo.
Urban “foodies” are now making hunting hip. I think it’s more of the gun being a hipster accessory than anything. But whatever it takes to get people to appreciate the outdoors and our connection with nature.

Wednesday Woof Rerun: Washington Capitals‘ Brooks Laich and a buncha hot rugby players. Some of the above photos were taken by San Diego Dan, who has a new batch of nice photos to share, this time alternating photos of bodybuilders and zoo animals. Here’s one of my favorites from San Diego Dan:

On Thursday I will travel to Las Vegas with the rugby team where we will play the Sin City Irish in a friendly rugby match to top off the season. It should be fun, and the day before the match I’ll be hiking with some of my chill laid-back masc str8 buds in the nearby Valley of Fire. And to balance it all later that evening me and The Gays will go out to experience the aquatic spectacular LE RÊVE.
Friends in photos: Skwurl playin’ Ultimate frisbee with his naturally masculine, chill laid-back buds, and Josh’s ’stache progress.
You can donate to Josh at the link provided and try to bribe him to keep it in the name of prostate cancer research. I have been trying for years to get him to keep wearing his ’stache to no avail. Perhaps a donation will help.
To the left is a video about a ’stached Speedo and chain-wallet guy. Somewhat safe for work.
All of the above links should keep you busy while I’m gone, right?

“No. Not now. Not ever. Do you hear me? I will use every cannon, every bomb, every bullet, every weapon I have down to my own eye teeth to end you! I swear it! I’m coming for all of you!!!” – President Laura Roslin

No more Mr. Nice Gay in DC – activist Phil Attey channels Colonial President Laura Roslin with the new outing tool ChurchOuting.org. It’s in response to another attack from the Catholic Church, this time they threaten to withdraw support for sheltering and the homeless in The District of Columbia. In other words, the Catholic Church in DC would rather hate on the gays than do Jesus-like activities such as feeding hungry people.
I really, really don’t get it. Can’t they see it makes them look really un-Christian? Anyway, there are bound to be closeted self-loathing homos in any Catholic heirarchy, otherwise they wouldn’t be attacking the gays so vehemently. In general, emotionally secure straight people have other things to do than to go after homos. So Phil is taking a wise step and going after these fucktards. There may be somewhat open gays embedded in there too, but they have been far too quiet. It’s time to strike back at this institution and tear down the hypocrites who have nothing better to do than to hate on that which they secretly admire, but openly loathe.
I have committed to going to Provincetown for a week in August with Dreamy Ron again. It should be a fun time. The last time I went there I met lots of nice people, as it seems easier to meet people when I’m on vacation – even if they’re from the same city. In one instance there was a gay couple who lived on my block who couldn’t even give me a simple nod as they walked their dogs by me, but when I met them in Provincetown I couldn’t get them to stop talking. I don’t get it…why do you need to be less social in your home environment, but then act in such a friendly way only while on vacation? My problem is that I assume the latter should be the norm, and it isn’t in DC which drives me nuts. I’m naturally friendly but my outgoing nature isn’t often met with warmth in this city.

Don’t forget the Renegades will start play at 1pm this Saturday on the field behind the National Holocaust Museum versus our pals from North Bay, alumni, whores and fans are encouraged to come to this set of matches. There will be a b-side match featuring moi (starting around 2:20pmish) and possibly some visitors in town for the National Equality March. It should be a good day for rugby at a unique pitch with fantastic scenery on and off the field. Keep in mind there will be no Green Line service at L’Enfant Plaza that day due to track maintenance, so plan your travel accordingly. Perhaps the 14th Street bus line might work better.
This week there was a very nice feature article, photo gallery and video in the Washington Post about the Baltimore Washington Eagles Australian Rules Football Club. Aussie rules is nearly a different game than the rugby I play. I was once told by my coach that I should not even watch Aussie Rules rugby as it will confuse my rugby league technique. Anyhow the article was part V in a nice series on “Our Lives Through Sport: A Look at How the Games Played by Washington Residents Help Define Our Region.”
I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of the very Twitter-friendly rugby community, but came across this gem of a desktop image associated with U.S.A. Sevens rugby. Best rugby blog/site name ever? Scrum of the Earth.
Rugby-friendly Ximena Hartsock was rejected from the D.C. parks and recreation director position this week by a sad coalition of racist and sexist city council members playing games with the mayor. Certain council members who should know better raised concerns that she would form a Latino-only coalition of recreation interests, among several ugly accusations. Basically we need to send the eternal victimist Marion Barry back in time to the late 1960s where he can whine and moan and be a hypocrite all he wants. The only games being played should be on the diamonds, fields and pitches in this city, and not in that council chamber on this particular topic. Hartsock understands this city’s recreation needs and her rejection from the position is a tragic loss to the kids and players in this city To date she has been the acting director of the DCPR and has been doing a good job. But the city council does not reward efficiency or good work. It only opens its ugly, rotten mouth to spout vile statements and waste time. The only loser in this match are the residents and taxpayers of the District of Columbia.

Was it murder or an accident at the 14th Street “Pee Palace“? It sounds like it coulda been a poppers-induced fall down a steep flight of stairs. These narrow DC rowhouses have very narrow and steep stairs. Or he slipped on a puddle of cum.