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January 31, 2003
you go gurl
A big shout-out for Miss Martina Navratilova. Not only is she an out dyke, but she won a grand slam at 46 - the oldest in tennis history. Here's to healthy dykes everywhere, and to aging athletes as a whole.
Now where are my aging and out professional male athletes? This is an example of women making strides that men have not yet made. I would like a role model, please. I guess I'll have to settle for Martina, which is respectable enough, but I want a big hunky successful athletic gay athlete to look up to. I guess there's Miss Galindo, who is fabulous, but howabout football, hockey or baseball?
Posted by jimbo at 9:29 PM
my gay sports bar, gay ninjas
Our trip to Twist last night was aborted early as squeaky-voiced Young Louis gave himself away by nervously asking immediately "I'd like a Coke, please." He's not quite as smoove as he needed to be. So we couldn't stay there and went back to the hotel as Louis is underage. But, props to mah peeps for checkin' it out with me, they get 500 bonus Cool Points for bein' so damn cool. It wasn't hoppin' anyway, so I'll check it out tonight by myself to see what's up.
So Gurl tells me that my balance-board demigod needs to wash his gym clothes on a more regular basis. I see him regularly now on the Metro. Don't even think of hair care products - he doesn't even comb his hair! And that tight suit...he SO needs a gay Big Sister to show him the basics.
addendum: Gurl suggests an elite force of gay ninjas who capture him and give him a mega-makeover.
So I was tellin' HCL by e-mail the other night the requirements for my gay sports bar. Since I like the name 'Catchers', Chrisafer is now my marketing director. His rich relatives in Wilkes-Barre will finance the enterprise. If Catchers doesn't fly I'm gonna call it The Jockstrap or just 'Mo's. There'll be an area where the local gay sports team can leave their contact and practice information, and possibly a wall of team photos and trophies or somthing. There will be NO SMOKING, or at least set hours where there will be no smoking. Jukebox sound levels will be kept at a level low enough to allow conversations without straining one's voices. There will of course be a huge flat screen, which will feature ESPN 1 through 6 when there isn't major games going on. There will be posters of Brady Anderson, Brad Fullmer, Brett Favre and Mike Alstott. Rugby will be shown on a regular basis. There will be beer options other than Rolling Rock and tasty non-alcoholic options as well. Any other suggestions?
Posted by jimbo at 4:43 PM | Comments (8)
January 30, 2003
how cool are my coworkers?
So young Louis and I were planning on going to the local 'mo dive here in Wilkes-Barre tonight after our shift. The other coworker had a booty call planned with a local (real) girl (not gurl, an actual female) which fell through. So he comes up to me sheepishly and politely asks ME if HE can come to the gay bar with us! How cool is that ?!? Cool straight guys are, well...so damn cool.
Posted by jimbo at 10:38 PM
McCarthyism
The McCarthys in Wilkes-Barre are sorta like the Olsens in Walnut Grove - they own everything from the flower shop to the auto dealership. There's something Chrisafer isn't telling us. I think he's rich like Nellie Olsen.
So I'm out to my coworkers and I've only been working with this company for three weeks. It helps that my boss is a Sister, but also that one coworker on our road trip is 19, and to those kids it's not an issue. The other coworker's landlord is a 17th St. Gurl and his roomate is gay too. He's also admitted to having gone to Wet. So when I revealed my gurlhood to them there was like no reaction at all. No flinching, no blushing, no stammering or apologies. How cool is that? We all got buzzed on saki at a very good Japanese restraunt before going to work.
My odd shift forces us to be working during the hours when most people have fun, but I might try to coerce my coworker to go to the local 'mo bar, apparently called Twists. Mapquest says it's three miles from my hotel.
Yesterday I worked out in the hotel's 'fitness center' - a tiny room with a lightweight treadmill and a stairmaster that does more damage to you than it helps. Urgh...must work out!
I think when I catch up on rest and a normal human schedule I may be inspired to write a heavy entry, but I've been uninspired for a week. For thoughtful, insightful, clear writing please go here for the next week or so.
Posted by jimbo at 8:27 PM | Comments (1)
January 29, 2003
SG-1 = Wizard of Oz
In a rare stroke of jimbo genius (or another aneursim), I realized that the Showtime sci-fi series Stargate: SG-1 is based on the old Wizard of Oz theme:
Teal'c: Cowardly Lion
Daniel Jackson: Dorothy
Coloniel O'Neill: Scarecrow
what's her name: Tin Man
the Goa'uld: Wicked Witch of the West
the Asgard: The Wizard
This is what geeks think about late at night, while they work out, and while driving.
Posted by jimbo at 11:00 PM | Comments (3)
a gay sports bar
OK, jimbo is now accepting applications for investors to purchase and open a gay sports bar in DC. Fitz sent me this link about a new gay sports bar in Atlanta. There's also ones in Boston, San Fran and Phoenix. I've always thought that most larger towns needed it, as there is a large enough population of gay men in a community to support one. Whether they are affected masculine, jock stalkers (like me), from NoVA, or actually into sports, I think it would be appreciated. It's probably the closest thing I have to a career goal at the moment. Then when I get richer I'll open a blogger bar, just for YOU geeks!
You hot scruffy motherfucker. How many times do I have to reiterate how hot you are? Mount me, Daddy. Oh yeah, nice dining table set, you Martha Stewart hot motherfucker.
Best blog entry to date from Dawgpoet: so true... it IS like he's Madonna and we're all his bitchy backup dancers! I'm the girl with her hair up in a bun on the Vogue video.
Posted by jimbo at 12:42 PM | Comments (2)
ride the peeps fun bus
Yet another reason as to why you blog: purely for me. Think of jimbo when you consider taking a break from blogging, or are starting to question why you write. Itís all about me, even if you think itís about you. It is good to catch up on y'all when I'm out in the field, that's for sure.
Sometimes we team-teach in our training classes, and Iíll have a moment or two to check out your blogs. During one of my less-brighter moments, I began to blog surf on the trainerís computer. Itís the computer thatís hooked up to the projector. Luckily, I didnít project the pecs from Jockoís site or random weird banner on Donís at the time.
Went to the mall today to buy some ties and socks, which I forgot yesterday. This area soo reminds me of the area where I grew up. Hilly, same types of trees, same sizes of people. In most cases, very large. Smoking is a very popular pass-time (see film ëDrop-Dead Gorgeousí), cigarettes referred to as ësmokesí and pronounced ěcigíretsî. Yesterday I had genuine pierogies and polish sausage, which I havenít had in years.
My godlike (physical) health streak is coming to an end. Iíve got the squirts and a sore throat, and am getting tired. Bleargh. My hotel room is fairly warm, however. Last night I came across the ëScranton M4Mí room on AOL, which may provide some entertainment.
Oh Honey, I hear you gurl. While I did know a few people in town when I moved to DC, I tasked myself to meet as many gay men as possible after arriving from Kazakstan. Little Fish wanted to meet ALL the other fish in the Big Pond. So, I joined Frontrunners, a gay speakers of Russian group, the Washington Wetskins water polo team and formed my own mostly-gay D&D group. From that and joining the Renegades, I am now only one degree separated from any gay man in DC, which has its pros and cons. On the one hand I can do background checks for you on guys you might be thinking of dating. On the other hand I know the limited selection of whatís out there, and where its been.
Be on the look out for a PeepsĆ Fun Bus to come to your town February 17 - February 23. I am SO there! Already contacted the company for the actual schedule of the Peeps Fun Bus schedule for DC
Attention all Peeps FanaticsÖPeeps Fun Buses will be traveling throughout the nation in 2003! The buses will be filled with Peep-tastic games and activities. Get a chance to make fun Peeps crafts, win some Peeps prizes and take a tour of the Peeps Fun Bus. What's in the bus, you're asking? You'll just have to wait and see!
Posted by jimbo at 1:54 AM | Comments (1)
January 28, 2003
greetings from the slag pile
Greetings from the frigid slag-heaps of Wilkes-Barre, PA! It's colder here right now than in Wisconsin, a frigid -2 degrees Farenheit. Nice weather to be indoors at the moment.
I'll be brief as I'm kinda tired at the moment. I'm teaching basic desktop navigation to two classes from 4pm to 1am this week and next, but I'll be back in DC for the weekend. This schedule isn't too far off from my sleep patterns, but we'll see how it goes.
This part of the country is a lot like where I grew up, in that you can just strike up a conversation with someone without them freaking out like they do in DC instantly wondering what you want from them. I'm in the elevator and just start talking with someone, then we walk away, assuming to resume the conversation whenever we meet again without even knowing their name. It's a nice break from what I call the 'New England Shield' that tends to unsettle midwesterners on the East Coast.
My, what big arms you have. Didn't watch the Superbowl last night. Had I been up on who was playing I might have, as I do lust over Alstott.
Posted by jimbo at 1:43 AM | Comments (1)
January 26, 2003
off to wilkes-barre, PA
Tomorrow I leave for a week to Wilkes-Barre, PA for work. I'll be doing some basic Windows XP training for government employees. I was sent on this trip as it's mainly some very rudimentary training such as "how to right-click on your mouse" and "how to open Internet Explorer," so it should be easy. I'm keeping the fu as it will allow me to blend well with the local populace. Perhaps if I'm bad at McCarthy's Inn on the Hill I'll get put in the slammer by Sgt. Wardle and his german shepherd Rolf of the Wilkes-Barre Township police.
Yesterday I went to a rugby pre-season chalk talk with the coach and team. We set our goals for the season and watched a bit of freeze-framable rugby on someone's DirectTV doohickey. Nifty technology, and great for freezing plays on the high definition gadgetry. Stalkalicious-OCD and Monkey were there, as were quite a lot of the team, which was a good omen for the upcoming season. Then I had dinner with Ben and off to the Eagle with Don and dreamy Ron. We were all kinda subdued, me with full stomach and RonDon on cold medicine and I went home early. Tonight it's off to Lizard Lounge with Gurl. We will be stalking guest DJ Gustavo Motta for a bit.
Posted by jimbo at 4:32 PM
January 24, 2003
Mr. Trinity: AWOL in DC
Jennie was in DC and all she got was this lousy t-shirt, AND NO MENTION OF HER VISIT ON jimbo.info!!! I could have made you my Beer Nut casserole between marches! I would have made you my queen! We would have ruled the weekend! We could have gone out for something even sweeter than s'mores! I would have let you wear my really warm wool socks, saved only for backpacking and Jennie. But alas, it was not to be. Spurned, spurned I say.
Oh yeah, it was MAL weekend. I was otherwise occupied.
Posted by jimbo at 5:20 PM | Comments (5)
some statistics
I finally got around to analyzing the server stats and visitor information for jimbo.info. I'll have to sit down with Mostess Hostess jimbo for some interpretation of the stats, but here are some interesting bits of information that I could divine from the stats program on the server:
Successful requests: 55,365 past month, 16,052 past week
(Most are from Google web crawlers, however.)
Visit from most obscure country: 2 hits from the Seychelles
(If you're reading this and you're from the Seychelles tourist bureau, get me a free ticket and I'll plug your islands on my blog every day!!)
You visit my site too much: 1517 hits in the past month from fbresearch.org.
Gurl, how many times do you hit my page in a day? About 43 times a day I guess. Or does your boss look at my site too?
Most frequently peeked at images in my archives: hot men in kilts and David Beckham
You know you're a geek when you get referrals from:
http://www.council-of-elrond.com/
Gurl loaned me the entire collection of Stargate: SG-1 seasons 1 and 2 which I have been watching dutifully every night for the past few weeks. I feel I'm caught up now on the whole Goa'uld thing.
BTW: I am officially inheriting Sparky's harness. Hopefully I'll be as hot as he is.
Posted by jimbo at 10:35 AM | Comments (8)
January 23, 2003
fluffy fights bin laden
BICHON FRISE War On Terror FRIDGE MAGNET
Get it NOW on e-bay! I wonder what my fish think about the War on Ter'r? OK - most of the platys said are against the war but the bottom-feeding corys are for the invasion of Iraq. The barfing cats have no comment on the issue. They want more food.
Posted by jimbo at 7:48 PM | Comments (5)
hcl at 33: still da bomb
Honey Sweetie Darling: you are so wrong about the vanity and age thing. I never bought into it when I was 20, and I still don't. The game is there to play, if you choose to play it I guess. Otherwise, we'd all be happier if we kept the "Ageopoly" bored game in the closet where it belongs. Here's what it all means: you're 33, which means you're more experienced than tha twinks; your hairline is receding, a definite turn-on for many, including jimbo; you're muscular as opposed to skinny - it shows perserverence and discipline; and you have a job that pays four times more than what they do. Gurl, be proud of your Daddyhood! You have more than a few more 'Get Into Circuit Party Free' cards left! Take Bubba or Dogpoet for example, who just keep getting hotter and hotter as the grey hairs on their chins multiply.
Ageism and the enchantment with eternal youth is one of the things that we need to work on in the gay community. It never bothered me as I'm finally approaching an time where I'm the same age as those I have always and always will desire. I want a MAN, not a boy, and I'm excited to be 33. I want a man with experience, chest hair, a stable life and a stable mind. What I do not want is a mercurial, juvenile, itinerant and unstable larva who's smooth as a cue ball.
What bothers me the most is that I think many young gay men do not and will not visualize themselves positively in 20 to 40 years. It's a visualization that needs to be done in a forward-thinking way. You can't imagine a projection of yourself as the tired old thing hanging desperately on to youth and the end of the bar with skin care products and A&F clothing that no longer suits you. You are more than that, and you will get better over time. I think since so many young gay men think aging is a tragedy, it is one reason barebacking has become so popular of late. It's a form of suicide - they don't think they'll be happy as an old gay man so they make sure they never get there, as quickly as possible with as much pleasure along the way before the end.
Not jimbo. Jimbo sees himself in 30 years wearing flip-flops and working in the garden with an extra-large pair of shorts on. I'll have one hell of a rhino-butt, no doubt, but that's what happens when we're that old. I'll have an old dog, and maybe an old man who's my partner who I rarely have sex with but love deeply, and have been for years. We'll argue and bicker, and he obsesses about the house while I obsess about the garden. We have many friends who we do low-key things with. We go to Florida, or maybe even Europe if we've got the energy for it. I will have a slight limp from a decade or more of rugby playing, but am still in touch with my gay rugby club which is now 30 years old. I'm still out and in touch with my relatives and my old friends, and I'm looking forward to 70 and maybe even 90.
Posted by jimbo at 1:08 PM | Comments (6)
i'm like a bird
Ben and I have bad taste in films, or at least make very poor choices. Four years ago we went to see 'What Dreams May Come', a very pretty Robin Williams film about death and the afterlife. A foolish choice to go take a guy whose love-of-his-life partner had died. He was crying and I felt like a heel. Then last spring we went to see 'Black Hawk Down'. Before the film I was in the mood for some nookie. Afterwards I wanted to rinse my cranium out as those images of a blown up soldier thigh wouldn't get out of my mind. War flicks make bad date flicks, unless you're into that, which I'm not.
He's so sweet though, and in fantastic shape for a man in his late 40's. Soft-spoken, muscular, hairy, not a bad bone in his body. No edge or grit, however, which was why we never went anywhere. Birds, creatures of the air, still have stones in their gizzards. The grit keeps them grounded ( and regular ). I need one with some grit so I don't have to worry about him flying away to realms where I rarely frequent. Someone who knows what it's like to have had his wings clipped from time to time.
He wants to hang out again, go out to dinner and all that. I'd love to - he's a joy to be around and easy on the eyes. Maybe this time I'll hear the grit grinding in his gizzard. But he wants a boyfriend badly, and I think it's me. I don't want a boyfriend right now at all, but I'm having fun poking around. I'm just not interested. No intensity about it or anything like after I came out. Am I growing up or is it the antidepressants moderating my desires? Or maybe I'm so content with the stable status quo I don't want to rock the already heavily rocked boat any more for a while. Something the ex never understood was my need for periods of stasis...the need to just coast for a while and enjoy the ride. That's what we're here for anyway, isn't it?
Posted by jimbo at 10:09 AM | Comments (5)
January 22, 2003
went postal
Today I drove out to the Dulles mail facility to view how some of our projects are managed and saw some of the gadgets that I will have to train people on. It was next door to the nicely landscaped AOL headquarters and somewhat near my friend Vonnie DuBois' home. While I may not be able to 'do lunch' too often with my half-sister Vonnie Du Bois, dinner is certainly a possibility, and after the hour-long drive home through DC rush-hour traffic, so is a sleep-over if I'm there more than a few days in a row. Let's make D&D characters all night! 'nerk-snort!'. Of course, leaving the womb of the District made me disoriented and afraid, and I got lost about a half-dozen times at least in the twisted maze of Northern Virginia.
The facility was HUGE and it was amazing to see how our mail is processed and sorted. On the way home I heard there was another anthrax scare earlier that day AT THAT VERY SAME FACILITY. However, it turned out someone's package had spilled some sugar. Who the hell mails sugar anyway?
It's fucking cold here too, by the way. But every time I want to wince at it, I think about how much I hate the summers here even more. If only I could somehow package this frigid weather and release it for a day or two in July.
Posted by jimbo at 7:53 PM | Comments (2)
January 21, 2003
which nazgšl are you?
Posted by jimbo at 3:36 PM | Comments (1)
question the internet
Snow again this morning! It's been a good winter for snow. It nicely offsets the hellish month of oppressive heat we had this summer. God that month sucked in many ways. If anything drives me away from this area, it will be the summer heat. It's just awful.
But I'm feeling that stirring in me again (no, not that kind of stirring!). I saw some seeds for sale at the Rite Aid and bought some zinnias and little white flowers of some sort. And it's still February! Must nurture plant life...
I neglected to mention all the DC bloggers I saw this weekend. Some posing as creatures of leather, others claiming they were just there for the show. Whatever, Master Mary. You get freaky in the bedroom and you know it, so 'fess up. We wouldn't want to display any kind of deviant streak in this town, now would we? There were also an alarming percentage of ruggurls there from the team as well. I saw or cavorted with al-Tardia, DCdork, CHRISAFER, Stebbins, and one half of Mr. and Mrs. Howell from the rugby team. Now the last link is a new one on my list of fellow bloggers. Be sure to check the sidebar links of other bloggers for several other new additions.
Yaay! I may free Sparky of his harness. It's used (read: previously defiled) but probably cheaper than a brand new one. Rapidly approaching complete outfit.
I followed a questionable link the other day that shows a satellite image of the Korean peninsula at night. The difference between North and South Korea is quite radical. In fact I have a hard time believing in the image at all. In a word: Photoshop. No, two words: Photoshop, Propaganda. If the image is correct, most of North Korea is completely unpopulated and has no source of artificial illumination at night. I find that hard to believe. They would have NO discernable economy with no lighting at night. Even the most depressed areas of Kazakstan had lights. Also note that the website this image is featured on is a .org website, meaning it's an organization of some sort. It's not an official .gov website. Please question anything you see on nonprofit or organizational websites, as they can say anything they want, or post whatever they create.
Watching the Today show every morning I've noticed quite a lot of pro-war human interest sketches and interviews, such as Katie Couric on board some battleship or military base. Everything in the media is blatantly biased towards the pro-war viewpoint. While I'm pretty much a fence-sitter on the war issue (future blog entry with opinion promised some day) at the moment, I would like to ask both the pro- and anti-war supporters to really look twice at what's being fed to us...from both sides. Question everything you see, including 'official' information from the White House, DOD or your favorite pacifist organization. Hell, even Jimbo made some White House pages back in tha day. And if Jimbo can make pages for the White House, who knows what other nuts can do? I see complete bullshit coming from the left, and gracefully veiled misinformation from the right. The only way most of us could find the real truth is to actually go there to Korea or Iraq, but for now we need to think about what comes in on the boob tube, process and question.
Posted by jimbo at 10:35 AM | Comments (3)
January 20, 2003
shout-out for MLK
Monday afternoon in the shadow of Howard University Hospital. It doesn't get much blacker than this. It's not a bad 'hood, but it does have its less comfortable spots at times.
"But you don't have soul," Big Joe said to his English student. "Of course we have souls!!!" the Kazak teen replied in shock. Joe then tried to explain the concept of soul to his students, which was difficult to describe to those with English as a second language.
The music in Kazakstan left me hungry, like the craving I had for the hard-found vegetables in winter. Electronic Euro-pop constantly blasted across the bazaar and at the Tsum department store. Blinky, beepy with repetetive, mindless lyrics, there was no substance to any of it. One day I realized what I needed, what I was used to with my American music. Rock, Jazz, Blues - they all have a common thread. And being American, I needed that thread. It was soul. I wanted big mama soul diva to come belting it through, pack yo' bags out that door kinda music. It was absent in Central Asia. Its absence was felt even when I was in Manchester, England. No soul at the discos.
You think people are racist here? Go check out cultures that are hundreds of years old. Sneaky Belorussians, crazy Caucasians, thieving Armenians. Every race had a trait, and the locals could always tell which subrace someone was of, even when they all looked 'Asian' to me. I guess since Kazakstan has always been a crossroads for trade, it was often beneficial to know where someone was from at first sight. And their behaviors were immediately assumed. Charging my way off the train to my station, I had to plow through a group of Kazaks. "Crazy Caucasian!" one of them shouted. And he didn't mean Caucasian as in the check-the-box section on the equal opportunity form either. I was blonde, blue-eyed and hairy, and was thus from the Caucasus region, and therefore must be crazy.
That's the neat thing about America. We are trying to fight that concept. We are still talking about it, at least. MLK's vision of a Christan Satyagraha will remain as long as we think twice about someone's traits aligned with their race.
Posted by jimbo at 2:20 PM | Comments (1)
weekend in review
Finally, after three years of hemming and hawing I got my first pair of chaps. As expected, they do make my ass irresistable as everyone promised, as evidenced by the numerous whackings I received immediately after putting them on. Don't leave marks, bitch! They don't look quite right with the Doc Martens, so other boots are in order, as is a harness of some kind.
However, I didn't wear them out last night as they were a bit pricey and I'm not about to break them in in that fashion. It was hot and hunky as expected, my most favorite time of the year. I got into some trouble in the bathroom stall with rugged Irish poster child Jackson from Boston, but abruptly aborted that when my Spidey-sense began tingling, telling me that the nightclub security was on the way. I spent a lot of time dancing with big furry Ben, and he was as warm and cuddly as the bear on Grizzly Adams. Favorite thing said to me last night: "Are you a lumberjack?" Lucky for me the space at Nation was large enough to contain my explosive ego after that comment. The Gina Gurls were in full force, a bit too aggressive as usual. I had to forcefully grab one guy's exploratory hands when he wouldn't take the Ice Queen hint. Stop or you'll be licking the floor before you know it. I don't mind good touch, but when I pull away it's time to stop.
The music was kind of gloomy, and there were no crescendoes to mention. Knee and feet soon became sore, and jimbo retreated to the silence and solitude of home. 'Phew!' Who let a horse sleep in my bed? Time to wash the sheets today and air out the comforter off the second floor patio. Pig.
Posted by jimbo at 2:16 PM | Comments (5)
January 19, 2003
validation
Hmm...I omitted one reason I like to blog. I do seek validation on my graphic design.
Ahh...the perfect man. As I watched dozens of perfect men go by last night in the hotel lobby during MAL it was hard not to get all swoony over more than a few of them. Call me jaded, or experienced, but the first look isn't always the one you should go on. Sure, it's the initial attraction that gets you to get your shy or giggly girly ass up to talk to them, but first impressions always beg for at least a second impression. In the end, you have to get along with them. Mounds of issues and imperfections may get in the way of that.
This morning as I ate breakfast I watched the cat vomit her entire breakfast of kibbles again. She was a street cat and always eats like there's never going to be food again. Then she drinks a ton of water since she doesn't chew, and it doesn't always stay down. Most of the kibbles she vomits are completely intact. It's OK, since she eats it up again anyway. No cleaning up involved for me.
There were protesters in town again this weekend, this time to protest the war, or our threat of war or whatever it is we're doing at the moment. This time they didn't clog downtown, and kept their activities on the Mall. That's fine with me. Don't fuck with my town or how it runs while you're here visiting, thank you. Pretty damn cold here to protest though.
Last night I stayed home so Grampaw Jimbo would have the energy and drive to go dancing tonight. Plus, I had heard them say on TV that "Ray Liotta and Madonna" would be on SNL. I should have listened more carefully. It wasn't "Madonna" on SNL, it was "The Donnas". Grrr. They were a pretty good girl rock band though.
MAL action in full swing. Tonight is the hottest dance of the year, and me and my gurl Seamus will be going out together. It should be a blast. No work tomorrow, so I may be out a bit late.
Posted by jimbo at 12:02 PM | Comments (1)
January 18, 2003
unclean
Posted by jimbo at 3:17 AM | Comments (1)
January 17, 2003
my little girl...all grown up!
Last night I crossed paths with my niece, Agnes the Bulldog of Joy, and her father Brian. Agnes didn't have the time of day for me, as she was focused on her new toy ring. Brian says she's all grown up now, and gets a bit defensive with her toys. She's a little underweight too, but it looks good on her. My little niece...such a Diva. She sure knows how to work 17th Street with that ripped bod...just like her Uncle Jimbo!
Tonight I'm going to the cotillion ball with al-Tardia. I'm wearing a big, fluffy pink gown. I think Tardicus would look good in yellow, however.
Posted by jimbo at 9:32 AM | Comments (3)
January 16, 2003
inkblot test
I took this really long inkblot test online today. My results are summarized below. "Jimbo, your unconscious mind is driven most by Love ." What? Umm, OK. Sure. So basically it says I'm a big 'ol Care Bear or Monchichi deep inside.
Everyone has a desire to love. But your desire is rooted very deeply in your unconscious and affects many of the decisions you make in life ó whether you are aware of it or not.
You have an energy about you that inspires people to experience their true feelings of love and act kindly towards others. In this way, you and your drive for loving relationships start a chain reaction of positive experiences.
The reason you are driven by love, may be because your unconscious is trying to avoid the opposite of love ó hate. You, more than others, may be afraid of experiencing severe discord with others. That may, in turn, heavily influence your choices about relationships and the way you communicate your ideas, wants, and desires to others.
With such a strong orientation towards loving others, your relationships hold a very special place in your life. Your capacity to love may be greater than those around you, and therefore you may have more to give in relationships than your romantic partner does. Remember that this is a gift you have and one most others don't possess.
Posted by jimbo at 12:06 PM | Comments (6)
in the beginning...
jimbo.info started out as an AOL profile page. I wanted a place to post my pictures in order to 'meet' new and exciting people. Two friends of mine were 'webmasters', and I thought it was fascinating. So I printed out a page from washingtonpost.com, and printed out its page of HTML code, and compared them as I rode the bus to work. Then I tried it myself, and made my first webpage. It had a black background with stars on it. Then I redesigned it to look like 'USA Today', but called it Jimbo Today. Then jimbo showed me what a web log was, so I tried that too.
So what started out as a personal meat market ad has turned into a tool for expression and writing. Again, don't think I'm sharing everything, or that you have a window into my innermost thoughts and feelings. I have a private life, and Mom reads this too. What I do post is too much sometimes, as you can often see. But there are many things I will never tell you, Mom, or even Gurl.
Is my blog for self-validation? No. I really like to entertain with my writing, and I'm trying to give you pithy and substantial content. Ones To Grow On. I get off on comments and e-mails from strangers saying they relate to what I wrote. And I secretly want to write a fantasy swords and sorcery novel series where you fall in love with the characters and can't wait for the next book in the series to come out. A series where you talk about the characters like they are your friends. So I try to write well too in the hopes of being ready when I get around to writing about Lissa he half-drow ranger with a turmultuous past and her druid friend named Carraway.
While I've met lots of cool bloggers in person along the way, the original intent for me having a web page or site is long gone. I suspect scores of brutish, hairy hotties are reading this site on a regular basis, but its just a read in their daily routine - The Onion, The Post, Craig's List, jimbo.info. That's fine with me. I've found that the real thing usually works out better than electronic hook ups which are only sometimes rewarding, but more often disappointing.
Do I ever get tired of blogging? No, because it's a fixation like working out and drinking coffee. Must...share. I have several volumes of hand-written journals from years back, complete with sketches, scraps of paper, tickets from concerts, and postal stamps from around the world. Blogging was merely an extension from what I was doing before. Some people are fading from the blogosphere either because they've realized they have nothing more to say, or have dropped it like the latest fashion now that it's been publicly declared as cool. The surviving weblogs will be those with regular, worthwhile content, and bloggoverlords that have something to say and say it well.
Posted by jimbo at 11:00 AM
January 15, 2003
it begins
Dear Diary: spotted, purchased and consumed my first Cadbury Creme Egg of the season.
Bite off the pointed end, luciously stick my tounge into the creamy sugary walls of the chocolate chamber, cupping out a gout of white and yellow sugarstuff with the tip of my tounge. Quiver in excstacy as the creamy filling slips down my throat. I press my eager lips around the jagged, dark crenalations of the fractured egg yet again, careful not to shatter the remaining shell. The shell's fate is now sealed, and I enter again. I scoop my tounge into the stuff...sucking, licking, swallowing. My saliva coats the outside of the shell now, dripping the ambrosia compound off the bottom of the egg, coating my fingers. The sweet yolk of the egg consumed, I take the remainder of the egg into my mouth. I feel its roundness on the roof of my mouth, and I press the egg to it and crush the shell. Gooey chocolate coats my teeth, and I swallow again AND AGAIN! The rapture subsiding, I slurp the chocolate off my fingers, and go back to work.
I can't wait to describe how I eat my marshmallow Peeps and Bunnies.
Posted by jimbo at 10:22 PM | Comments (5)
currently reading...
I just realized I don't have a 'currently reading' link on my sidebar where I feature some really deep and eclectic book selection. Sorry to keep you guessing. On my nightstand is the catalog for ThatFishPlace.com and The Book of Vile Darkness. I tried to read the Book of Exalted Deeds but it burned my flesh for some reason.
Posted by jimbo at 5:22 PM | Comments (3)
daddy jimbucks
I am by no means rolling in the dough, but I just got another short term contracting gig starting on the side, in addition to the normal job. I was trying to get it rolling when I was unemployed, but when it rains, it pours I guess. That and my unemployment checks were delayed due to the holidays, errors on the form and snowstorms, so a bunch of those checks are coming in too. Fear not, it's all going to bills and food.
And maybe a little dancing on Sunday night for the MAL Reaction dance. The hottest dance of the year, where the majority of the men are actually attractive to me, as opposed to the emaciated hairless Tina twink parties of bois usually encountered. There will be scores big, hairy simian brutes to choose from. Yipee!
Posted by jimbo at 1:53 PM
January 14, 2003
queer guardian angel service
Yesterday I managed to do deadlift squats on the balance board with 45# plates on each side! Talk about mega-ass building workout. Soon after 
Chris needed to use the board. Nobody but us uses core workout equipment! Tee hee!
I had spotted him earlier in the day as I came out of the Metro station this morning on the way to work. You know you need Fashion Intervention when Jimbo sees that you need some help. I'm no GQ queen but I do know a few rules for work attire. Seemingly unaware that he was no longer able to wear his suit from Confirmation that mom bought him several growth spurts ago, he wore a very tight fitting suit that showed off his muscles, but his socks as well. Hon, it works in the gym, but not at work. Plus, he was wearing Vans and big goofy knit wool Guatemalan mittens, but no coat in the freezing weather. And is unruly cow-lick hair is not just for the gym either. Hair Care Product Alert! Sounds like it's time for a Big Gay Sister Fashion Intervention to me.
I got a belated birthday lunch from a friend of mine from waaay back, like a week after I crashed in DC from Peace Corps in '97. Gil was one of the first gay men I met in DC, and a sweetie pie to boot. He disappeared to Boston soon after, but returned recently after getting his law degree there. It was good to catch up, and he noticed I'd grown up a bit. The past year aged me for sure.
Posted by jimbo at 10:05 PM | Comments (4)
be my mountain man
Super-hottie scruffalicious woofster and his dawg: White Fang and Jack London. And he's smart and all that too.
OK, what's up with the no blogging shit with all y'all? The rules are simple: you read my blog, you publish entries in yours. I can view traffic patterns to my site, I know you're reading. I won't name names, as the list is far too long. I know a few of you are completely wrapped up in brand spankin' new relationships, and simply don't have the time for that tired old blogging stuff. There's nothing healthier than dropping all of your previous interests and friends and completely losing yourself in true love. Others of you are too absorbed in the new computer games you got this Christmas. No excuse! I play CivIII maybe 6 hours each day, but I still have time to blog. Give ten minutes, the payback is immesurable.
Posted by jimbo at 11:30 AM | Comments (6)
chester the pester
I woke up to the sound of sandhill cranes trumpeting out across the cranberry bogs, with a chorus of canadian geese somewhere beyond. While I was enchanted with Carter, I was in love with his farm. His house was set in the middle of acres of frosty wetlands, the biting Central Wisconsin spring winds whipping across the sand flats. On the horizon at the edge of the bogs jack pines and fuzzy hemlocks formed the frame for the perfect picture.
Carter's cocker spaniel Chester was angry since no one had paid attention to him all night. He had chewed one of my brand new dock shoes to bits in retribution. But it was hard to be mad at the furry ball of joy. "Chester the Pester!" Carter proclaimed as the blonde spaniel wriggled with guilt.
It was hard to be pissed off at all. Carter was a stunningly handsome 35 and I was 21. I met him at the Plattewood Club, an intimate and well-hidden gay bar on Highway 10 outside of Stevens Point. Our small campus gay/lez/whatever group would go out there and whoop it up on Saturday nights, dancing, Working, Vogueing and shakin' it at the Love Shack. Formerly a strip club, the mermaid mosaic still graced the billiards room. In colder months, they would light the fireplace which was just off the dance floor, sparks snapping out to bite our boogie feet. During the summer the owner would let the patrons socialize on his pontoon boat, docked just outside the bar on the shores of the Wisconsin River. Like many small town gay bars, it was populated by an odd assortment of characters. Bulldykes that worked in the paper mills, closeted professors, unsure university students and the regulars with abused hair saddling up to 'their spot' along the bar.
I'd never seen Carter there before. In such bars, everyone knew who came and left, and with whom. He was remarkably well kept for a Plattewood patron. Pressed pants and plaid shirt, well groomed hair, grey at the temples, tall and muscular, and a thick mustache that put Tom Selleck to shame. He was a Castro Clone Daddy holdover straight out of a Tom of Finland sketch. And with that aquiline nose and sqare jaw he was more handsome than Selleck too. My Early-Warning B.H.I. Scanners lit up across the board. Defcon 5 protocol activated.
Knowing that The Trolls would get him if I didn't act soon, I scrawled a fevered message with my phone number on some paper, handing it to my agent Andy at the bar. Andy was the proverbial Julie the Cruise Director, and a board member of our student group. The Good Time Charlie, always willing to help out in a pinch. Despite my anxieity, Carter received the missive successfully, and we chatted a bit before I left with buzzcut Nancy the neo-dyke. Giddy with delight and anticipation, we drove back to campus and tittered the whole way in my little red Ford Festiva.
My crunchy hiking buddies Amy and Shannon were elated at the news. Now they could talk about Jimbo and his man, not the other way around. As they got me dressed up, we debated the wisdom of buying a teddy bear as a gift. Perhaps it made too strong an impression, but in the end the mission was a success.
Carter was one of the first guys I could identify with at the time. Most of the members of our campus group were male fine arts majors, afraid to come out else it ruin their careers, or silent lesbians in their cabalistic circles. Not only was I the Big Fag On Campus (B.F.O.C.), but I was in the College of Natural Resources as well. Most of my fellow students wore treebark camo or flannel and yearned to be a game warden in order to "spend more time outdoors." Ultimately I never achieved that goal, but at least now I had someone gay to talk about such things.
Carter had moved from the fast life in San Francisco back to the calm of his family cranberry farm. I learned later the move was due to an ugly breakup and something more. Ultimately he would find that the farm and Central Wisconsin didn't love him back, and he eventually returned to San Fran.
But during those few years he loved what he did and it suited him. Frost would settle any day of the year on the bogs, and he would often be up all night opening the sprinkler valves to keep a protective layer of ice on the berries. Seeing him during harvest was out of the question. He was busy getting his big hands calloused from good hard labor.
I know I was a bit intense with him - true dating didn't last long, but we remained friends. I was excited to know someone else who was gay with mutual interests in horticulture. He helped me with my plant taxonomy collection, a project I aced with his plant identification skills. Every time I see some dodder entwined on another plant I remember Carter and the bogs.
One day on a visit out to the farm he had some news to tell me. It flattened me for two weeks until I got my results back. It was the first time I had to deal with the reality of HIV, but a necessary trial that eased things later on in life. He assured me the risk was slim, as we had played safe the few weeks we had dated. Sure enough, I was OK, and he would remain healthy to this day. But back then the future was not so bright, and it was a scary time for me.
Carter moved back to San Francisco for a time, and tried mango farming in Hawaii with little success. He eventually found a good man for his good nature, but Chester passed away a few years ago, having survived through moves to San Francisco and Hawaii and back. Carter eventually paid for a new pair of boat shoes, but it was worth losing the first pair to the jaws of Chester the Pester.
Posted by jimbo at 12:15 AM
January 13, 2003
i want a dog
Iíve been really jonesing for a dog a lot lately. I canít resist going up to a total stranger and their dog and asking for doggie kisses. Even better are puppy kisses. The other day I got pug puppy kisses. As I ride by the doggie park on 17th street I yearn to see my niece Agnes, the Bulldog of Joy. I havenít been bulldozed by Agnes in quite some time, and my ear isnít as clean as it should to be (I think she thinks my ear is another bulldog face, and kisses it heartily).
Iíve been thinking about Max a lot lately too. He was the dog we had in my last relationship. I ended up walking Max a lot, and grew to like him. He was a big, ferocious-looking Rottweiler/German Shepherd mix, easily over one-hundred pounds. But when you got to know him, you realized he was permanently a puppy. I especially liked the games ěGonna Git Cha!î and ěIíve Got The Kongî, which Max enjoyed too.
Alas, Iím at a funky point in my life and my rational self says I canít get a dog. Iím never home enough and I can afford to save the money otherwise spent on vet bills and dog food. Oh yeah, and my job requires me to travel a lotÖI donít want to be leaving Dog at home with the roommate all the time.
But we can still dream. If someone were to give me a dog, the optimum dog for Jimbo would be:
I gave some thought to adopting a greyhound. They are quiet, mellow, and look kinda cool. However, they don't like to swim, and seem less animated than dogs who have not spent much of their lives in small kennels. I just can't envision me and my pet greyhound Slimdawg Slim backpacking together in the Dolly Sods Wilderness Area.
Posted by jimbo at 5:05 PM | Comments (10)
January 12, 2003
rugby jerseys on sale
Ruggers take note: Old Navy's "Rugby Bunch" jerseys are on the clearance rack for $10!!! I got a few for practice, as pick-up games tend to be hard on your favorite 'ol gym tees.
Grrr...curse these mood-moderating medications. I can't wait to be off of them in June or so when I'm adjusted to my new job. (Don't worry, I'll get off them as the doctor directs, not cold turkey.) I started taking them when I was a total mess while unemployed. I'm affected heavily by their side-effects, however. Other things are moderated along with emotional ups and downs. While men are still 'interesting', the interest in sex has waned significantly. I suppose this could be seen as a good thing, as I should be focusing on the new job and all, but it's pretty annoying when sacked up with someone. Not only is the interest not there, but Mr. Willy is not interested either, and doesn't shoot his stuff. Much communication is necessary to keep the partner's self-esteem high as it should be. It's not you, it's the medication! Even the gingko doesn't really help. Oh well, I'll just wait it out I guess.
Posted by jimbo at 3:18 PM | Comments (2)
January 11, 2003
2003 Xanadu film festival
Last night I dragged Tardicus to Chrisafer and Bubbles' house to watch the 4-hour directors' cut of Xanadu on DVD. Priceless, endearing and good clean 80's fun. I was kidding about the director's cut, but when rollerskating comes back around I think there will be a Xanadu comeback - mark my words.
I noticed 'Tard was nodding off, as Chris and I watched in obsessive rapture. He wasn't feelin' the funk. Sure, the writing was bad, but I was struck at how good the coreography was. The creators of Xanadu had no idea how much of a flop it would be, but they sure worked hard on the old skool musical magic. In a decade where musicals were laughed at, it was a rare gem.
'Net gem du jour: Heartless-Bitches.com. Featuring pithy put-downs for pugnacious pigs, himbos and other valuable rants.
Posted by jimbo at 12:54 PM | Comments (3)
January 10, 2003
police blow away dog
This morning on the Today show I watched a disturbing video and interview of the Smoak family about how they got roughed around and their dog blown away by a shotgun. Apparently the police thought the fat, Basset hound-legged dog "looked like a pit bull ready to attack." The poor thing was waddling around and wagging its tail, so the officer blew it away at point blank range to eliminate the threat. Looks like some group of county and highway patrol officers are suffering from some severe post 9-11 overfunding and gung-ho attitude. I hope they get canned. Hmm...the Cookeville police site is down...I wonder why? You can give the Cookeville area highway patrol a call if you like, however...the non-emergency number is on the second link.
Love at First Sight. You Are My Density. You Had Me On 'Hello'. Yeah, I joke a lot about how 'I (heart) Chris' (or Don or Dogpoet or Jennie) but I'm mostly just kidding. I'm having many friends tell me lately about how other guys they are dating tend to want to move in and marry after the first date. Grow up, kiddies, it takes time. I've seen too many hasty move-ins or those who find they've moved in and have been together for ten years, only to realize there was nothing there but the pursuit of security. I, for one, will run away screaming if you tell me you love me on the first date. Blurting it out during the height of passion is understandable, but not over dinner on the first (through tenth) date.
In the defense of the hasty, I remember when I wanted to settle down ASAP immediately after coming out. The thinking was "Now that I'm done coming out, I'm going to find the Perfect Man and settle down and live happily ever after." Well, I wasn't done coming out, and there is no such thing as the Perfect Man.
On a canoe trip in the Boundary Waters one of my friends, an organic beef cattle farmer named Mary, said to me "It's OK to have an idea of the perfect man, but you may have to accept 60% of that idea in reality." Too true. Either people spend too much time being single in search of perfection, or they try to mold their partners into perfection. An attempt was once made to mold me, and the result was rebellion and resentment. Accept me as I am, the good and the bad.
Anyhoo, it took a while for me to be fully comfortable with coming out. I'll have to say the process is ongoing, not a point in time. Your sexuality is a dynamic thing, and when you jump into a relationship before exploring your sexual self, you're in for trouble.
And there are far more complexities to a relationship and dating than you think, especially when you were never a practicing dater in college or high school. Many of us come out completely bereft of any relationship or dating skills, and are often well into our late 30's by the time we get it right. It takes experience, growth and personal maturity to be completely open to the idea of a relationship.
Gurl was in the midst of some pillow talk with a friend the other day. Gurl's guest admitted that he'd never been faithful to his lover, and admitted it was mainly due to having never been a practicing single slut for long. Too many go for the comforting womb of a relationship far too quickly, in lieu of exploration of the self and the other. It pays to play the field, as long as you don't get too used to it. Being single is OK, a relationship complements you, it doesn't complete you.
So to all you kiddies out there looking for Mr. Right: chill the hell out, accept Mr. Right Now, but keep your eyes open for Mr. Pretty Good. Then be ready for some compromise, learning and change.
Lunch today with Don, then I'll be watching the 4-hour director's cut of Xanadu at Chrisafer's later tonight. We'll be trippin' on the OL-J, aww yeah.
Posted by jimbo at 12:15 PM | Comments (9)
January 9, 2003
super soul psychic circuit sister moment
Oh. Mah. Gawd. I was, like, going into the elevator with Tony. We both work on the 3rd floor. He presses 3. For some reason I press 4 because I'm blonde, or is it something else? This cool bike messenger chick walks on. Tony (who digs chicks) says politely to her "What floor?" Cool messenger chick says, "4th." Jimbo's eyes widen in awe of himself (for the 14th time that day). OH MAH GAWD!!! I'm LIKE TOTALLY PSYCHIC!!!
Anyway, it's really cool to be working again, and to have cool coworkers. I'm getting along here quite well, with the exception of having to assert myself about my desk. It's apparently been used for storage for quite some time, and instead of waiting for it to magically clean itself free of new computers and parts, I cleaned them off myself. All better now. Found the bike rack, and rode to lunch today, which was very pleasant. I'm trying to make an effort not to blog and impulsively check AOL mail all day, I really am.
In the tech world, sometimes I feel like Kevin Costner as "The Mariner" in the movie Waterworld. Out in the open ocean, with only the resources I have on my ship available to use at my disposal. Then some super-tech geek comes along and blows me out of the water, coming in on his/her unsinkable Exxon Valdez, replete with armed jet skis and oil cannons. Plus, I'm cute like Costner used to be too. But my fingers aren't webbed, nor are my toes.
Mmm...cowboys. Of course, I'd never insinuate that ANY of them are gay, or my boyfriends for that matter. I'm just pointing out that they are hot.
Posted by jimbo at 4:46 PM | Comments (6)
January 8, 2003
superfreak
I'm going to try some old skool graphics and do my design on Paint, just like Don does. I'm such a freak. Why can't I be normal like Bubbles and Gurl? Now who wants ta get freaky wit da freak? Don't be shy now.
Posted by jimbo at 4:51 PM | Comments (3)
lessons in PR
You expect me to believe that a woman who can't manage her damaged hair can clone human DNA? She can't even get her dye job right, how can I picture her dealing with micro-pipettes, cell walls and spectroscopes? And look at those ROOTS! Honey, stop your silly cult activities and geneticist wanna-be motions and please, for God's sake, go visit a salon and get that taken care of. Some teeth whitening is in order too.
Missus Truvy is going to a circuit party! I see you're volunteering the requisite amount of guilt about going to one. Don't worry, child, that's one thang I don't judge too harshly. Well, OK, I'll share some thoughts:
Posted by jimbo at 10:58 AM | Comments (8)
January 7, 2003
favre de grace
GRRR! Brett Favre, scruffy as ever, and now Kerry Collins too! WOOOF! What did Jimbo say about the beard trend?
Posted by jimbo at 9:08 PM | Comments (3)
picking on Mark
Uh oh, a former bullys worst fears come true. My friend Mark admits to still hating his high school bullies, after some reflection while watching the new reality show 'High School Reunion'. Here's a little secret: your bullies probably really, really regret doing what they did in grade school and high school. I know my friend Jamie and I still do.
Ironically, his name was Mark. We did most of our torment in middle school, while schooled in an ugly brick building that looked like a mental institution. It was fitting, however. I hated middle school, I hated the insane teachers, and the teachers hated working there. Plus, I think there was a lot of sexual frustration going on there, much of which I couldn't take part in. I thought the school guidance counsellor, the science teacher and the phy ed teacher were all pretty damn hot, but couldn't do much about it.
But that's no excuse for cruelty, nor was Mark's wierdness. He had pale translucent skin and always sat by himself in any situation. He was frail thin and had an odd way of speaking. And he wore cowboy boots, which back then was wierd (now I think it's hot on the right guy). I don't know...there wasn't much to do in middle school and he was an easy target. No excuse, and when I think about it now I feel bad. I'm sorry to have done the things I did, and a bully can only wish his victim can get over it.
Once high school came along, there were more outlets for me, and far less frustration, so I moved on. As a result I had more distractions and less opportunities for cruelty. Choir, band, forensics (Cheesese for 'debate club'), track and field and cross country all took up my time. Mark faded into the woodwork. I think I saw him once a few years ago, and I do wonder what he's up to, and the small worry that he has a gun occasionally enters my mind.
Posted by jimbo at 11:12 AM | Comments (3)
back to The Shire
Good Morning! I passed out quickly after 11 last night, as soon as I put down 'The Return of the King' last night. Damn, I was tuckered out. I feel more alert today than yesterday.
What a suprise, feel-good ending for that book. A very happy ending for Samwise and The Shire. I like how Tolkien brought it all back to The Shire after the long adventure. Sorta like Jimbo. As I sit overlooking the park here in downtown DC, I can see the office building where my dentist's office sits. It's the same dentist that I was assigned to when I arrived here after Peace Corps. It's one of the first places I went to when I arrived here in DC, and now I'm back.
I learned yesterday that my insurance begins immediately on February 1st. This is good, as I can play rugby as soon as possible. We already have a busy season waiting for us in the spring.
At work I already have a cell phone and will soon have a laptop, probably several times more powerful than my home PC. The company has a sailboat, available to all employees after 2 years of service. There is a serviceable tabletop Ms. Pac-Man game in the server room. How cool is that?
So what do I do? It's kinda wierd and long-winded, so I'll say it once and not again. Listen up kiddies: I train trainers on our client sites on new applications. For example - the U.S. Postal Service wants a more efficient way to intercept mail that's been affected by address change forms that you fill out when you move. You want it to go to your new address, not first to your old addy then bounce back to your new one, right? So Siemens creates this application and hardware that takes care of that problem, intercepting such mail before it gets sent to your old addy. My company, a subcontractor to Siemens, is in charge of training US Postal Service employees on how to use this new application. Jimbo goes to postal processing centers to train such people. That's what I'll be doing.
Posted by jimbo at 10:00 AM | Comments (1)
January 6, 2003
tired pup
As expected, I didn't get to bed early enough last night...just couldn't sleep. The first day of work went well though, and I have an office that overlooks Farragut Park in Downtown DC. I saw Don on the way into work this morning too, which is always a good omen. I was half expecting to find my predecessor's sweaty jockstraps and greasy baseball caps laying around, but my search came up fruitless. However, it was good to get in with the rest of humanity today, and my coworkers seem pretty cool so far, and the job promises to be interesting. More later this week when I'm back to a normal and caught-up sleep schedule.
Posted by jimbo at 9:13 PM | Comments (1)
January 5, 2003
1st day of school
I feel like tomorrow is the first day of school. I got my Trapper-Keeper, my Crayolas and my #2 Ticonderoga pencils all ready. The challenge will be getting my nocturnal ass to sleep tonight.
Posted by jimbo at 9:12 PM | Comments (3)
2002 Monkeybrains Award
Snowing hard today, easy to find an excuse not to go to rugby practice. It would involve driving through Anacostia to get to the practice field, and them folks tend to panic in the 'snowstorms' here. Plus, the combination of weather and Sunday church drivers would drive me into a rage. I will walk to the gym today and run and lift and be good. I will also set up my DVD player today and finish one page of the website I've been putting off the entire holiday season. I will!
Gurl, Chrisafer, his partner Bubbles, Jeremy and I went out to eat at Duplex Diner last night. Mmm....pork chops, chunky applesauce and garlic potatoes. My ripped abs have disappeared with the advent of the holidays and the return of my appetite. It's a good sign I guess. Just wish they could have disappeared after MAL during MLK weekend. Later we went for drinks at Larry's Lounge, and I departed soon after to get to a party later on.
At the party I flirted heavily with a furry and very frank former San Franciscan. It's amazing the difference between West and East coast attitudes. He had nothing to hide and no front was detected. It's very refreshing. DC natives or those that have been living here for a while tend to be more relaxed. However, those here that are new in town or wrapped up in the political scene (or think they are) can be very reserved about a great many things. He was also a former webmaster, riding high on the .com Wild West period, and crashed like I did, so we had a lot to chat about.
I forgot to mention the Monkeybrains of the Year Award during my 'Best Of' postings. The Monkeybrains award will be an annual occurence awarding the most asinine behaviour while drunk. This year's Monkeybrains award goes to Wes, a rugby team camp follower who claims he plays but just hangs around during practice to pick off unsuspecting players. They eventually find out what the real deal is, but too often too late after they get a bad taste in their mouth, and they don't return to the team. I hate that. Luckily, as our team matures and we get more serious that sort of crap isn't tolerated. Contribute in some way or go away, takers will be shunned.
Anyway, Wes is an ugly drunk who claims he can't remember his behavior while being an ass. Sure, a dozen cocktails might have something to do with it, but it's no excuse. At this year's team Halloween party, he approached the girlfriend of one of our straight players, and the assistant coach's wife, and pretty much said the same things to both of them: "You know, the only reason an ugly bitch like you is with this guy is because he needs a front, as he's actually gay." Wes was escorted out of the party, and wonders why nobody talks to him much anymore. It remains to be seen if Wes' new Al Roker stomach stapling bod will equate into athleticism, but I'm not holding my breath.
Posted by jimbo at 1:31 PM | Comments (1)
January 4, 2003
plague strikes!
Oh no! The death of Snuffles the Plecostamus was just the beginning! I should have known - ich has struck my peaceful aquarium community. Rushed to the pet shop for some quick cure this morning, and hopefully the protozoan plague sores on my beautiful fishies will fade.
The 'Tard took me out for a nice dinner at the Georgetown Seafood Grill, and then we went out to the Eagle for many drinks. I could still work the birthday thing, and got a free shot out of it. Of course there were ruggers there, and a few bears to chat it up and flirt with. 'Tard fell under the powerful spell of handsome Tim, and I couldn't shake him out of it. We were there until three or so, as far as I can remember. It was much fun.
The lovely trout entree, white wine and chocolate cake before the revelation spares you my wrath, el Tardo. You were wise to buy me dinner before telling me you macked on my 2002 Hottie of the Year the night before. Food is always up there on my list, above even vengance.
I got home that morning and wrote a drunken impassioned e-mail to Bubba regarding his wrenching entry. I think he could read it...it was full of philosophical ramblings and ego-boosters. Jimbo calls for the Love Bomb!
Posted by jimbo at 3:53 PM | Comments (1)
January 3, 2003
bathroom monkey business
Oh My God, I am so ready to get to work on Monday. I've run out of chores to do in the past weeks, and I think I'm almost burnt out on Civ. I've got a bad case of Cabin Fever. My sleep patterns have now shifted to waking up around 10am, and going to bed at 2am, for lack of any reason to get up in the morning other than to experience daylight.
Last night I needed to get the hell out of the house and experience social interaction with other primates, so I went to the Eagle. I heard that people migrate from the Lantern to the Eagle on Thursdays, so I thought I'd check it out.
The huggy doorman was reading Lord of the Rings, so we chatted about the nature of the movies vs. the books, and how the herb kingsfoil works. I thought it was just a magical air freshener potpourri that drove away the effects of a Ringwraith attack, but he said it only worked when potential kings, like Aragorn, prepared the herb. I stand corrected. There is much talk about Gollum's character, and how the actor who did the voiceover and physical acting (painted over with CGI) may get some kind of award for portraying such excellent Sybillism.
I went upstairs and it was very warm. I thought there might be another shirtless drink special, so the shirt was shed. I kept seeing people mill about the bathroom, and wondered what the deal was. Monkey business in the bathroom. Too dark and too crowded in there, so I avoided it. I like to see who's touching me.
I also had to use the bathroom for it's intended purpose, so I went downstairs to follow what I thought was a scruffy skatepunk, but the brighter light betrayed him as an aged poseur. There were two cute guys playing pool and flirting with me, so I hung around and started to play pinball to remain within flirting range. Naturally, I played the best game of pinball in my life, and got completely absorbed in it for at least 15 minutes. I got multiple extra balls and two free games, ranking 4th place! Finally my last ball went down the hatch, and I chatted up with them. They were a couple, however, but I stayed to chat for a while longer, then went home.
Tonight I get a belated dinner with Dicktard, which will get me outta the house. A birthday party on Saturday, and rugby practice on Sunday! Yaay!
Some ominous predictions from this year's behind-the-times Washington Post List of '03. Poetry is Out, while weblogs are In. Oh no, that means more "can you help me with my weblog?" messages in the mailbox. Honies, I hate to break it to you, but HTML is really easy. I tried to keep it a secret when I was unemployed, to keep you out of the competition, but the word's out on the street. Plus, applications like Blogger and Moveable Type were made for beginners. Even some lawyers I know have blogs now.
The good part is that soul patches are Out and full beards are In. Go Bubba, Jimbo and Dogpoet! Hopefully Fitz still has his, and maybe Monkey and Jocko will try to grow one out. Also, calf implants are Out and chest hair is In. Calf implants? What the fuck? Please stop that, and Botox too. I don't see a lot of chest hair yet on ICUII or in the gyms as of yet, but there is still hope.
Posted by jimbo at 1:05 PM | Comments (7)
January 2, 2003
bigfoot lives!
This is my oldest brother. Not bad for 38, eh? Thanks to mom and dad for the good genes - we all have fairly nice bods. All three Barrett boys also share a high metabolism, libido and stubbornness.
Anyhoo, my brother lives in Hood River, Oregon and spends his time windsurfing and snowboarding. He is trying to futher propagate the myth of Sasquatch in the west now that the former hoaxster is now deceased. He so crazy. He's also quite the online player, more so than a breeder should be, I think. He took my suggestions of online dating and tricking to heart a bit too enthusiastically, and now probably has more pics online than I do. You go gurl.
Unlike the middle brother (I'm the youngest of 3), he's cool with the gay thing. When I came out to him over 10 years ago, he said frankly "Yeah, I thought about it, but it wasn't my thing." When he came to visit and hung out at a rugby practice one time, they were all squealing that he was so cool. Growing up with him was another story, but that's left for another entyr.
Ugh, speaking of high metabolisms...must steel myself against the annual influx of resolutionists at the gym. There's always a rush of people to the gyms after New Year's due to resolutions to live healthier. Thankfully, most of them give up the goat after a month or so.
R.I.P.: Snuffles the Plecostamus. I found him white and stiff at the bottom of my aquarium this morning. He was sent to the afterlife in an honorable ceremony in the toilet soon after. I played "Amazing Grace" on my bagpipes. I bought Snuffles last week along with three platys, and Snuffles was the only one who didn't make the transition from pet shop to home. Snuffles, may you spend the rest of the afterlife scraping the holy glass panes of heaven with your radula, dining on divine algae for evermore.
Posted by jimbo at 2:07 PM | Comments (3)
January 1, 2003
Fun New Year
Yesterday I had a belated birthday dinner with Honest John and Gurl. Went home for a Disco Nap and returned to Gurl and Honest John to head out to that coffee shop near the old Badlands whose name I can never remember. We met up with Dreamy Ron and his friends. It's even more pretentious than ever, with coffee shop trustafarian kids throwing even more attitude at the counter than you would get at a 7-11 in PG County. Got buzzed up on coffee and headed over to Apex, formerly Badlands.
While I hadn't been there in years, nothing much changed except for the decor. More space, and a little more foofy than before, but the mean bartender in the front was still there, as was this cute coat guy Alex. What a blast from the past. He's an adorable twink with braces who's really nice, and while he's not my type, niceness is rare in bars so I gave him my number. He worked out at the Gold's in Arlington when I worked over that way, and we always had nice chats. Took me a while to recall the memories... I swear I have early onset Altzheimer's.
Gurl noted that the guy with the sock in his pants was in the exact same spot as he's always been, at the top of the stairs near the entrance.
We had a few drinks and brought in the New Year and all that. DJ woofy Rob was spinning his happy tunes like he does. Shirts went off and I was flirting with a guy I must have met a while back. Again, early-onset Alzheimers was in effect, and I can't recall from where. Again, twinkish but handsome. Thank you Tina (my barber, not the other Tina) for the fly haircut on Monday, it really works for me. The long hair experiment had to end.
John disappeared and so did Gurl, and Ron and I left soon after around 1:30ish. Good thing we did, as when I got to my parking space, a tow truck was removing the car next to it, and mine was next (insert alarmed chimpanzee noises here)! I got into the car and got the hell outta there, thanking my lucky stars grampaw jimbo got tired when he did. Jeez...there's no parking in DC on NYEve, why can't they relax a bit, I was parked behind a dry cleaning store that wasn't even open.
Posted by jimbo at 1:47 PM | Comments (3)