May 29, 2006
Memorial Day weekend
Hope your Memorial Day weekend was as good as mine:
I had no idea I was so red when I was walking around the View Bar on Saturday night. Joe told me the bar was usually reserved for off-duty porn stars and hookers, and we believe we saw one there, waiting around with his duty bag. I correctly predicted he wasn't going to get much business there that night due to the high availability of other less costly men, and I was right. The hooker left, out-marketed by the availability of sweaty hookers of a different kind.
The 2006 Bingham Cup was a lot of fun, and marked the arrival of hot summer temperatures. NY1 News managed to catch the only game I played in on film, video link included with the story - I think I'm number 14 in the fuzzy video. I was in an odd position as a sub on our A (Cup) side as it would have taken a mortal wound to take out anyone I could replace. But they toughed it through six dusty, hot matches regardless, and we came out 3rd in the Cup division, and the same with our Plate division. The Aussie Convicts won first in both, and the Boston Ironsides first in the Bowl division. I'll have to say that the most exciting match was us versus Manchester, with two nail-biting 'sudden death' match extensions due to a 3-3 tie, ultimately won by a penalty kick from our side. The most surprising ending was during our match against Gotham with a last-second 3-point drop kick from some 40 yards away by our miraculous Leprechaun scrumhalf, which secured a win. Joe and Eddie showed up for the nail-biting match, and I tried my best to explain what was going on and why people were spazzing out. I don't think they got it but they cheered for the hottie #13s on any side. The hottest teams of the tournament were certainly the Sydney Convicts and the brand new and totally muscular team from Cardiff. All blond and red-headed and cute as a button.
Later Saturday evening Glenn showed up at a social and I also got to meet Vasco, with whom I chatted for a while before the sunburn took me down. Glenn also came to watch a few matches on Sunday, and introduced me to Gayest Neil (partner of Plasicaisle) who played with the Gotham team. After the tournament matches were done I made an attempt at a disco nap so was up and ready for the closing party and XXL dance, where Joe and his dreamy friend Ken from Jersey arrived. Also in attendance were CSCFON and OMG Michael Hartney, who was unnerved by my girly screams due to his presence. I was able to out-geek the comic book fan with my vast knowledge of X-Men trivia. While I hear I need to suspend my historical knowledge of the Uncanny ones for X3, Michael was happy to learn that Juggernaut is Charles Xavier's brother, and that the Beast wasn't always so furry.
And speaking of furry, the XXL party was over the top. However, in terms of meeting new friends, my evening began with hitting on one of the few straight guys on one team (who was polite, but uninterested), and went downhill from there. Oh well, I got a lot of rest over the weekend anyway. But this Aussie got me riled up every time I saw him over the course of the weekend:
Aussie! Aussie! Aussie!
Oi! Oi! Oi!
Dreamy! Dreamy! Dreamy!
Woof! Woof! Woof!
Many more pictures from the tournament at the break, thanks to Blogstar Brettie for any pictures of me...
Psyching up for Saturday morning's matches, iPod mini product placement:
Me and Twan:
I think I had the ball in this photo, in a match against the Seattle Quake.
After the nail-biting double-sudden-death match against Manchester, I'm wondering if I had a heart attack just from watching. Manchester in the background to my left, the Renegades to my right:
My hat keeps me cool:
A particularly woofy ref:
My favorite Aussie, center, with red chest fur:
Aussies accepting their Cup win at the award ceremony:
Yet another scruffy Aussie:
Aussie accepting Plate win with Mark Bingham's mom, Alice Hoglan:
I'm trying to reprezent Tha DC but I can't get my fingers to twist correctly like Lora's:
May 24, 2006
the sun dog days of spring
It has been a remarkably mild spring here in DC, an actual spring, probably the best one in my 10 years of living here. Usually the weather in this area goes from damp and cold straight to hot and muggy, but we've had almost a month of lovely dry, cool, and sunny weather. While the pollen earlier this spring kicked Bob's ass and many others, I experienced only a bit of extra phlegm in my throat, making for a husky singing voice during April. None of the usual sinus or lung infections I usually get from spring mold either. Maybe the long-term Allegra usage is finally kicking in, or the dry weather may have helped out too. And I've been significantly more robust and healthy since I got my tonsils removed in 2003. Like 185# robust and PALE, as seen in this unflattering MW photo of me and TJ at Blowoff last weekend, looking a lot like Sméagol and Déagol. Anyhow, it's been a good season this year, if not a bit nippy in the evenings. Last night at practice I spotted a sun dog on the horizon, an indicator of ice crystal formation in the upper atmosphere, so I guess the jet stream is still quite cold.
We leave Thursday for the big giant super-gay rugby tournament in NYC, coming back on Monday. I've been selected for the Cup or 'A' side team for the weekend, which was a surprise as I hadn't played much on our A-side all season. I'm told it was due to my flexibility with playing in several positions and the tournament rosters are locked. It will be challenging as we'll be up against the San Francisco Fog, London, and Seattle Quake teams on Friday, none of whom are pushovers. The tournament rounds continue through Sunday, starting at 9:30am each day. Match schedule is on the above link.
The Renegades are hosting a social Saturday evening at 8pm at The View Bar, 232 8th Ave., NYC. And I think I'll probably be going to the big, giant, super-gay Bear circuit party, XXL, on Sunday night in lieu of Allegria. I've been on enough Allegra this year already and can't take any more of it. I hope to meet up with Super-Dreamy Dawg, Joe, Glenn and especially Eric at the XXL party since Eric is now turning into a Bear.
May 23, 2006
Shaw is the new Arlington
Yesterday afternoon I was set to meet up with Miss In Shaw for some happy hour fish 'n chips at a new "Irish Pub" called Duffy's, which is right across Vermont Ave. from the BackBar entrance of the 9:30 Club. As it's only 2 blocks from my house, it'll be a fun place to crash and drink good beer if they don't ban me from ripping on them later in this entry...
Upon entering I was immediately smiled - almost beamed - at by 4 modelesque women and one woofy scruffy Irish-looking guy. I knew something was wrong...in DC people don't beam at you when you enter an establishment. Instead they give you a not-so-subtle reading up and down and continue on with their conversations once having appraised your value to them. Clearly these beaming people wanted something, and that something was my marketing demographic information. For Miss In Shaw and I had stumbled upon a Guinness road show & promotion, and to take part in it I had to give them my demographic information. But I might have misspelled my e-mail address...
Anyway, all that meant was FREE BEER and all you had to do was listen to the woofy scruffy Irish-looking guy talk about Guinness. I don't know who the other people in the bar were or how they learned about it, but I assumed they were there to mooch beer too. No Guiness marketer really needs to waste their time on me. Lucky for me Miss Mari In Shaw doesn't drink beer, so I got her free beer, my free beer, and the beer samples to boot.
As for the atmosphere of Duffy's, I know they are going to do well as it's a good send-off point before any 9:30 Club concert - it's just across the street. Plus there are tons of new hipsters and yuppies in the 'hood all dying to pretend to be culturally aware and spend too much money on beer. However, as for it's status as an "Irish Pub," I'll have to agree with Agatha:
"A dive bar can easily be classed up for little money with the implementation of a Gaelic-style font in its logo and Guinness specials, preferably on "draught." The bar thus undergoes a metamorphisis from a lowly, smoke-filled rendezvous for the poor to a lowly, smoke-filled cultural experience -- usually for the poor as well."
In Duffy's case, the Harp's and Guinness posters and mirrors looked like they were drill-screwed into the wall just yesterday - and hastily at that. A bent screw does not need to accent a picture frame so clearly. And I couldn't shake the feeling that Duffy's was only just recently an Ethiopian khat den or restaurant, as the ceilings were high, white and made of those cheesy sound-proofing drop-ceiling tiles you always see in the U Street Ethiopian restaurants. Irish bars don't have high, white ceilings...Irish bar ceilings are low, smoky and usually made of some kind of dark wood.
Anyway, Miss In Shaw got me totally wasted - again! At one point when the woofy scruffy Irish-looking guy called for a toast, I followed up with a "HARRRR!" which almost got Mari to shoot Guinness out of her nose. That was fun.
The fakeness of PseudoIrish bars begs a question...is it Irish by virtue of it's customers, barkeepers, or by decor? Is a gay bar still a gay bar if it's full of straight people, yet a mirrored disco ball still hangs from the ceiling? Discuss.
May 22, 2006
west side reprezent? kids these days...
Image below found on Bigmuscle.com. Can somebody explain to me what his finger gesture means? Is he having a painful cramp in his hand?
Perhaps he's learned a new Vulcan hand meditation ritual to stave off Pon-Farr? It looks like it hurts, or that you have to twist your fingers just to reprezent. Does it mean 'W' as in West Coast? So conceivably, being from Wisconsin, I could do the same finger positioning, but at 90-degrees and reprezent my state? I'm going to Provincetown this summer - is it important to learn how to do this gesture before I go? Do all the gay boys in Chelsea do this hand gesture? Have I finally completely fallen out of the gay subculture, being so ignorant of these important displays of communication? Will doing this hand gesture eventually lead to arthritis, especially since I'm of such advanced age to be so ignorant of such hand gestures?
Has anyone else noticed that on Friendster, that on profiles of all the gay youngsters is that it is definitely NOT cool to have a photo of yourself with other gay men - your photos must only show you with your female friends. Is this to show what a playah you are? Are photos of you with your gay friends "too gay"?
I add this to Mr. Bartender's observation:
"The likelihood of a guy to be involved in the circuit scene is directly proportional to the number of shirtless friends in his Friendster profile."
Or the howabout Beaverhausen observation regarding the "It's Complicated" relationship status tag on Friendster, which I assume usually means you're a mess or a Republican?
What other observations have we made about Friendster profiles? Discuss.
May 21, 2006
Britney is the new hiring specialist at JimboCorp
From Le Gossip: pictures of Britney's new male nanny ('manny') who appears to be a hot red-head Jew. And from Pink Is The New Blog, Britney's new woofy bodyguard (scroll down a bit), replete with 70's porn star 'stache.
Britney, if you choose not to return to pop stardom, you have a place as a hiring specialist in HR at JimboCorp. I like what you do.
Friday: passed out when I got home from working late.
Saturday: worked a few hours, then got ready for the Fair Wisconsin thing. Upon entering Halo the first thing I noticed was that all the Cheeseheads in attendance looked genetically identical. Height ranging only from 5'4" to 5'10", hair light to dark blond, all blue eyed. There really is a Wisconsin 'type' for sure.
Some friends met up with me there and we were all surprised to end up at JRs for a few more cocktails, but by 11 the smoke and crowd started to build up there, so I had to leave. But not before I gave a very hot 39-year old Joe my card, and I hopes he calls it or drops me an e-mail. I know, I know, I should have scored the card myself, but I'm not always so aggressive as I depict myself. Lot's of bark and some "woof"s, but not always the biter.
I wondered if his two friends read my blog, because at one point in the conversation he clearly stated, "I am single." Either they told him to make that point clear as per my directions, or he's wiser than me in making sure all is clear. I told him that was great, that I was too, and God bless him for saying that.
Sunday: we trekked up to Baltimore to play in TazWolf's awesome D&D chamber. See, up there they have homes where you can actually think of having your own gaming room. Dax tried to keep their licking, sandal-eating beast Ai'Chaiya at bay, to no avail.
May 19, 2006
I'm probably going to jail today (maybe)
UPDATE: I went to court this morning and simply scheduled a new jury duty date, missing out on a fine, jail time or finger-wagging in my direction. JUNE 21! Remind me, Stalkers. Thanks!
There were FOUR hotties in the AWOL juror's gathering, for a hottie return rate of almost 10%! Blond hottie, dark-haired hottie, nice suit hottie and my favorite, shorty scruffy tattooed hottie who was rather friendly, talkative and just came right up to me while we were standing in line. I assumed we were cruising each other. I went in for my rescheduling before him, and happened to have to wait outside to record my jury date in my datebook. Scruffy hottie comes out, but during our conversation en route to the Metrorail station, I learn that hottie both smokes and has a wife - both deal-breakers for me. Oh well, he was friendly and fun to look at at least.
The deadline at work is looming and I have no idea how long I'll have to be at the DC Superior Court tomorrow. The iPod is charged and I'm bringing plenty of reading material, including the work stuff and a new D&D module I need to read up on.
See, I received what was actually a summons, but I thought it was just a survey of availability, so I ignored the date to appear, which passed by. Then I received a nastygram saying I could be fined or would have to go to jail unless I show up and say I'm sorry, which I am. I would like to serve on jury duty, it sounds interesting, but I simply flubbed the date. What should I say to the honored judge? By the time you'll have read this, I'll have found out.
This Saturday I'll be at Halo (1435 P Street NW) from 6-8pm supporting the Fair Wisconsin effort to stop discrimination and support equality in Wisconsin.
On November 7, 2006, Wisconsin will vote on a state constitutional amendment that defines marriage as “between one man and one woman” and that “a legal status identical or substantially similar to that of marriage for unmarried individuals shall not be valid or recognized in this state." This amendment would seriously harm both gay and straight families and roll back years of progressive tradition in Wisconsin.
So, if you want to learn more about the fight and help turn the tide against discrimination, then meet us at Halo! Besides helping out a great cause you will be able to mingle with some very beautiful Midwesterners and enjoy the finest cuisine from the Dairy State.
A donation of $20 is suggested. (Please make checks payable to “Fair Wisconsin.”) If you are unable to attend, but would still like to help out, you can donate on www.fairwisconsin.com under the DONATE field. Please mark that your donation is for the "May 20 DC Fundraiser" under the PURPOSE field. Thanks!
May 18, 2006
panic and terror in Northern Virginia (again)
"AAAAGH! THERE'S A WILD BLACK BEAR LOOSE IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA!!! OUR CHILDREN ARE IN DANGER*!!! PREPARE AN EMERGENCY RESPONSE PLAN*!!! WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!"
* Actual response by several Prince William County townsfolk as seen on television news item regarding the bear rampage in Northern Virginia.
I've written a Serenity Prayer for the people of Northern Virginia:
God grant me the Serenity to suppress the rising tide of constant panic in my soul;
the Strength to protect my children from bears, homosexuals, poison ivy, light precipitation and traffic on Hwy. 66;
the Fortitude to work 10-hour days and on Saturdays;
and the Alacrity to find my way through the twisting roads to find T.G.I.F. for their Sunday dinner specials;
forever and ever, Amen.
In many parts of the country aside from the zoo-ignorant Mid-Atlantic region, people live with wildlife all the time without panic and terror.
But admittedly bears do get a hankerin' for some primate from time to time.
On a completely unrelated note, bravery still exists in today's panic-stricken world. Our Mayor Anthony Williams had the balls to ask for an apology from a hate-mongering local pastor. Standing up for stuff like that helps a lot. I said "Thank you, Mayor Williams!" out loud today when I read that.
May 17, 2006
OMG!!! Belinda, Kathy, Jane, Charlotte, Gina.
The Go-Go's were fabulous, musically tight and a lot of fun. And the crowd was cute too! Here's a pre-go-go's pic of us warming up before the concert:
And happy Syttende Mai! Here are some photos courtesy of CynOp from Saturday's Blowoff...
May 16, 2006
Just when I thought our President couldn't get any stupider, more wasteful, or, well, frikkin' stupid, he goes and sends an already harried National Guard to "protect" our border with Mexico. Why not fortify the existing border patrol instead? It is clearly some kind of bizarre symbolic gesture meant to appease somebody, but I don't know who.
I've been to both the north and the south borders of this country in wilderness areas on foot. To the north there is no fence at all, with hundreds of miles of beautiful northwoods lakes and bogs protecting us from the encroaching Canadian wave of illegal immigrants. To the south there are also stretches of our border with nothing but a barbed-wire fence that couldn't stop a deer, much less a primate. I took a photo of the borderline this spring. There was no one there. I'm sure it was being monitored by telemetry or something, but really, our north and south borders are quite porous. We cannot possibly guard every inch of it, and to try to do so would cost billions. What Bush is doing now is purely symbolic, because he knows very well that every inch of our borderline cannot be effectively guarded. Sending National Guard troops to the border of Mexico is stupidly symbolic and wasteful.
I remember fishing with my brothers in my youth and was encouraged to kill any suckers or chubs (two types of stream fish) I caught because they were considered 'invasive species'. This actually meant "not-trout". Later in my life when I took a college-level ichthyology class, I learned that creek chubs and suckers are the native species, and most species of trout are populations supported by artificial fishery efforts - i.e. non-native species.
I'm not sure what kind of point I'm making here with the fish analogy, other than the fact that a lot of xenophobia is either relative or completely made up. I guess I don't percieve borders as physical things.
Anyway, George W. Bush is a complete fucking idiot.
On a completely unrelated note, Ron Howard grew a beard and is totally hot. Thanks Corey for the picture of a hot bearded Opie. The picture below is of hockey hottie Cam Ward, formerly of the Carolina Hurricanes. I post the picture simply because he too is woofy.
Should it disturb me that I have seemingly developed a network of facial- and body-hair informants who send me facial-hair pictures and news items at least once a week?
Funny story: last night I was video-chatting on ICUII. While chatting with a hot guy I made an attempt to ask him out. His first response to my friendliness was, "I read your blog and know how you feel about partnered guys and wanted to let you know I have a boyfriend and we are monogamous."
Praise Alanis, my readers can be TRAINED TO BE HONEST, UPFRONT AND TRUTHFUL!!! Social persuasion campaigns (propaganda on how I think things should be) do work! Even though it wouldn't end up in a hook-up, I would be honored to hang out and have a beer with such an open, honest and upfront guy.
May 15, 2006
...in the jealous games people play...
Can you hear them?
They talk about us,
well that's no surprise.
Can you see them?
See right through them
They have no shield
No secrets to reveal
When you look at them
look right through them.
That's when they'll disappear,
that's when you'll be feared.
It doesn't matter what they say
in the jealous games people play.
Our lips are sealed
OMG...I'm going to see the Go-Go's in concert at the 9:30 Club tomorrow. EEEEEEE!!!
May 14, 2006
Happy Mother's Day!
I hope everyone calls Mom today, or sends a picture like these two young men. And don't hog your Raisin Bran either.
OMG last night Blowoff was a hoot! I saw a million people I haven't seen in a while and met a million more, and danced until 3am. I had to start charging for people to feel my butt - clearly the haircut is still working. I met local artists Scott Brooks (woofy, fyi) and Pat (Linas Garsys) and their respective parners. Todd and Doug were there representin' The MW...I hope to see a goofy photo of me with TJ and/or Chrisafer in the Scene section next week. At one point in the evening Chrisafer and I were watching TJ's sexy moves, giving each other a mutual nod of approval - not high in the technical category but smooth like a jungle cat on a hunt. The DC Bloggeratti were out and shirtless, including Dumbek, CynOp & 'Boo, Carl, and Sean Show & Co. Bob and Rich were in full effect, doing their duty as part of the creative class who improve city living and the economy.
There is a disturbance in the Blogosphere, not from the resultant gossip from last night's event, but from the discovery of yet another fake blog, this time of one written by several personalities of the same author. Back inna day before the diversification of blogs into news, punditry, porn, hate, music, gossip, birdwatching and other evolutions, most of the blogs were written either by tech geeks experimenting with a new medium or writers wanting a forum for their work. Then the crazies came out. Since then several false blogs have been discovered, or worse, those who completely plagarize or outright copy the work of existing blogs. At least a made-up blog is creative. In this particular case the content was well-written and sometimes interesting, but always a bit too incredible to believe. Then the problem I had was that the author was claiming to be an HIV professional, dispensing medical advice on his blog, using only himself as a cited source. That's dangerous waters when a reader's health is at stake from non-academic opinion. I feel like a fool for giving props to this blog in the past, but now the link is removed and a lesson learned. Not everything on the Internets is real or to be believed. Plus, bloggers who share their lives and real stories on the 'net get really pissed off by the misrepresentin' wierdos out there. Nobody likes getting taken for a fool.
The real Collective here is that of bloggers who share stories, compare facts, and have concern for others who may be hurt by such deception. It never ceases to amaze me that some people still believe the Internet is a wholly anonymous place - a vast impersonal sea where you can hide in unknown ports, trafficking your cargo of deception. The reality is that the Internet is in fact like a vast ocean, albeit littered with buoys, markers and sonar that works perfectly well in detecting and locating bullshit. An Internet Hanseatic League of sorts now exists, trading only in fact and truth. Anything else is just Bent.
FYI: 95% of the content of this blog is real. The fun part is for you to figure out what 5% is made up. The rest is genuine coffee-fueled rants and lustful conjecturing.
May 12, 2006
grizzly/polar bear hybrids & alterna-bears
Sho 'nuff tha shizzle fo tha 'pizzly' - strange polar bear / grizzly hybrid shot in Canada.
Many such strange and furry creatures will be at this weekend's Blowoff:
I have had it with contact lenses and glasses. I want LASIK NOW!!! Please drop me a line if you have any referrals or recommendations. MetroRail accessible and reasonably affordable are my priorities.
for all you Howard Dean worshippers out there....
Governor Howard Dean is a low-down, spineless, two-timin', devil-tounged, misrepresentin' snake-in-the-grass; talkin' to the 700 Club out of one side of his mouth, then to The Gay over at Halo a few months back out of the other side. All you Dean-worshipping gays take a second look and reconsider your support for both Dean and the Democratic party.
Yeah, this gives total credence to the gay Republican's "Democrats are no better" excuse, as double-talkin' is only slightly less reprehensible in my eyes than outright aggression towards The Gay. At least you know where the Republicans stand, but you never really know with the Democrats, if they are standing for anything at all.
But if you're still a gay Republican this platform around (Now With New Anti-Gay Adoption Additives!) you're still pretty retarded. The fact is that Lincolnian Republicanism is long-dead, the party no longer recognizable as it once was - taken over by cultists and less-obvious industrialists. Yes, they don't care about black people, nor anyone else who is non-male, Christian, white, straight and rich. If you are not all of the above, forget it. Fiscal conservatism and staying out of your bidness is no longer part of their platform. They hate you and view you as a lower life form. Get over it and start being someone else's bitch/drone. Or is it the humiliation that you crave? Or is it a suit fetish? (My apologies to the Liberal suit fetishists out there).
But that still leaves us with the problem of which party to choose from. A nice solution would be to have more parties to choose from, but the Greens don't have it together yet and of course that one crazy-ass glamour candidate who runs for office all the time would be impotent in actual office.
Both the Log Cabin Republicans and the Human Rights Campaign both have one thing in common - they are both trying to work for progress within a system that they are not yet a part of nor are a functional component within. Both the LCR and HRC are premature organizations. Any statements that you are affecting the organization you seek membership from is pure fantasy.
We aren't even past the awareness stage of activism with many people in this country. They don't understand The Gay and people can still lie about us and it will be believed. Both the Democrats and the Republicans use us as a tool, and piss on us whenever possible. Time for more awareness-building, knowledge-sharing, face-to-face interaction, openness, and generally getting out of the gay ghetto and out there on foot to tell your story.
May 11, 2006
I'm very approachable lately
I got my haircut yesterday afternoon, and right after that I went to the gym. Two muscular guys stop to talk to me for 20 minutes. Then on the way home three different people ask me for directions. The new 'do makes me either totally hot or totally approachable. I can share the name of the person who does my hair.
I often wonder if I've been genetically engineered to always work for visitor services due to this inherent approachability. Maybe it's the whole young Kris Kringle look I'm workin' at the moment - everyone wants to sit on my lap and ask me questions or tell me things.
Crazy people also find me approachable. Luckily I have a good time talking with schitzophrenics and with their friends inside their head. This morning on the shuttle ride to work the woman next to me began doing coreographed hand and shoulder motions, interspersed with broken phrases. I'm not sure whether it was Tourette's or crack. It could have been both. By the end of my ride she had taken out her hand mirror and was showing it to me, or was showing my reflection to me. I smiled and got off at my stop.
The Unclean are at ease around me too. There is a person on my floor at work with whom I am synchronized with. We are always in the restroom at the same time. Sadly, he does not always follow good potty etiquette (Thanks to Dale from DC Gays of Our Lives). He washes his feet in the sink and blows his snot in the sink too - not always in that order. I suppose he feels comfortable doing that around me since I'm so approachable. I want to design a porcelain foot doucher just for him some day.
May 10, 2006
it's a gas, man
For a warm-up on today's rant, read I'm Doing my Inconsequential Part for the Environment from The Onion.
Together, we can make an unbelievably negligible difference.
When I got rid of my car two and a half years ago the gas prices were just starting to rise. While I miss my Big Girl I do not regret the decision...by now the gas prices would have killed me. But there is a pro in all of this in that environmental thinking, or at least energy conservation efforts, will rise again - at least until the gas prices drop again. Having gone through the environmental 'movement' in the 90s with an undergrad degree in environmental education and having studied the rhetoric of the environmental movement of the 70s, I feel qualified to offer some suggestions to organizations, politicians and activists for this go-around:
I guess all of the above suggestions essentially have to do with lowering your expectations of the public at large. This may have something to do with an overeducated bourgeois perspective of environmental knowledge that ignores the fact that not everyone can make the leaps of logic and connections that you have. I'm sure a small group of you are doing the right thing and you understand why, but not everyone even has the time to give it any consideration at all. They are busy working 80 hours a week at Wal-Mart and working hard at home simply feeding their kids. Don't overwhelm them or ask too much of them.
My suggestions appeal to a common denominator, but if a 'movement' is restricted and achieveable only to a select and elite group of educated folks, what's the point?
I have spoken, but I'll betcha no one listens to Jimbo this time around. We are doomed.
In other news, Gurl has pointed out that I sound a little burnt out, and I think I am. I haven't even been feeling horny lately, and have a very neutral/blah attitude towards men and dating. And I don't give a shit about rugby after last weekend. It has been a great spring with vacations, visits and accomplishments, but it all kinda happened at once with no breaks. I will make a focused effort to have little focus or responsibility this weekend and the next. I need to chill out and catch up with myself.
May 9, 2006
thou shalt not wear jeanshorts
I suppose here in DC we have the swarms of gay Republicans to avoid and be annoyed by...but I pity those of you in NYC who must certainly be irritated by having to pass by any random David Blaine "stunt". They're both quite similar really - pointless, far too exposed, and a bit wrinkly.
And from the DC Urban Family Blog: the Dupont Cirlce 10 Commandments.
May 8, 2006
I recently discovered a couple of local 'bubble blogs,' smugly forecasting an end to the local real estate bubble phenomenon that continually reminds me of the boom and bust of the dot-com era. Go visit Bubble Meter and Crash (love the titles & the content awash in self-satisfied smugness). Euphoric optimism, outrageous profits, questionable deals, unrealistic financial plans, followed by small hints of doom before the crash. Then it's all over, honey. Been there and done that, and saw this bubble for what it will soon cease to be. I've heard of so many sketchy financing packages going to newly arrived twinks who have bought properties on a $32K salary, sketchy loans, and no down payment. One false move or another national crisis and you're screwed, buddy.
All I have to say is that I can hope the patient and those actually interested in living rather than profiting on such properties will inherit the the earth that the flippers, impatient, herdy and unwise now reside.
Local Case Study: there is a home at the end of my block that recieved a makeover from HGTV's Curb Appeal television program. The property is beautiful, but there were signs that the people were merely 'flippers' from the 'burbs or those only carpetbagging here in The District until they get their 2 or 4 years with Senator Gadonkadonk or Representative Peapody, and will then leave. My upstairs neighbors (renters like me) are the same...people who aren't really interested in living in The District for the long term, who show a general lack of concern for neighborhood affairs. They'll throw their trash out back on an off-trash day, not bag it properly, and then just leave it out there all weekend if the garbage man doesn't pick it up. A pair of rusty bikes, untouched for over a year, remain shackled to our front stairwell. They just don't care what the neighbors think because they are not planning on interacting with their neighborhood in any way, and aren't interested in the effects their actions (or lack thereof) have on the rest of their neighbors. Their greatest concerns are finding the best happy hour prices at whatever watering hole is most hip for the day. Having lived there almost a year, yet in less time than they have, I have already met and know the names of at least four of my neighbors. None of the kids upstairs know any of their neighbors, and can barely remember my name.
Also take Queen Kong (my name for her) who bought the last house that abuts the African-American Civil War Memorial where my MetroRail exit is located. She's spent the last year tearing out the inside of the property to achieve the most prestigious riposte in gay cocktail conversations: the ability to say "We gutted it," to all her gay friends at JRs. And yet when I nod or say hello to him when I'm coming from or going to work ( as I think a good neighbor should ) all I get is this terrified, aghast look in response. I'm assuming he's probably from Boston judging by those reactions. Let me note that I am not rubbing my crotch while delivering these salutations, thank you!
Same with the Flipper Family down the street. They have only recently achieved the ability to say "hello" to me when I pass. I dunno, I think you should get to know people where you live, and not be afraid of them. Their yard remained ignored after their television show home makeover. Gator bags that water the trees unfilled, bushes untrimmed, the fabulous bird bath unfilled throughout last summer. Like many not interested in or terrified of actually living in The District, when they come home they rush from their car to the front door, and close it quickly behind them lest they get shot by a random drive-by. There is little lingering outside to chat or relax in the sunshine or else you may have to interact with people you'll eventually forget, as you won't be living there long anyway.
And last month, sure enough after less than a year living there, a For Sale sign appeared in their front yard. Flippers. They're jumping the market like rats off a sinking ship, and have probably already experienced some depreciation in the true reason they moved there. Sadly, they had no intention of gaining appreciation of the people, neighborhood or city around them.
Hopefully once this real estate madness passes, the people who are living in The District are those who want to live there in order to live, rather than to profit. I believe when more people who are interested in civic participation are around, we will see an improvement in cleanliness, quality of life issues, education and other things, and a drop in the crime rate once people are around who give a shit enough to get involved with local politics and reporting crimes. Flippers and carpetbaggers look out their windows from behind their security bars, shrug their shoulders, and refrain from making an effort to report crimes because they were never interested in getting involved in the first place.
May 7, 2006
"...a stately pleasure-dome decree."
Reminder: Mother's Day is Sunday the 14th.
This is my new futon with new pillows:
I tested it out Saturday night with a friend and watched "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," which was a lot like all the other Harry Potter films: a challenge, a mystery, a bad guy, beat the bad guy. But the effects were really cool. In the foreground of the picture is the hood of my aqarium, far background a lightning rod (doubles as a +1 copper shortspear in times of forced entry) from the roof of my grandparent's house, to the right my big gay shadowbox, to the left the doors to my bedroom.
It was quite an adventure finding a decent local futon store, but I eventually ended up with Ellen's Futon at 1728 Connecticut Avenue 202.518.0057. The woman who works there during the weekday was fabulous, helpful, didn't push for the hard sell, and knew what she was talking about. On the other hand the trashy, twitchy queens trying to hock futons at Z Futons & Furniture at 2130 P St NW were pushy, overtly lascivious and didn't listen to what I wanted or needed. Not only that, but the one salesperson who initially approached me and looked me up and down like a piece of meat, proceeded to hand me over to the next lascivious salesperson who also didn't listen to what I wanted and also lost my sale. I likes my attention but I loathe shopping - please don't make it an uncomfortable experience for me.
During the day for most of the weekend we played rugby in Baltimore. Fortunately it was warm enough for a lot of woofy shirtlessness all over the place. I did not play at all so there was plenty of time to join the shirtlessness and get a nice torso tan at least.
The backdrop homes off the pitch were extremely Baltimore in style. One more Saturday match, then a weekend off, then the Big Giant Gay International Rugby Tournament over Memorial Day weekend.
May 5, 2006
vain frat boys - chicken: yes. hot: no.
Sometimes I go lift weights at a smaller gym on the campus where I work. It happens to be located near frat row. Now I ain't sayin' that college frat boys are vain, but Jeezus guys, will you stop looking at yourselves in the mirrors so much? I am not kidding...when these guys aren't lifting weights they are looking at themselves in the mirror, fixing their hair and generally primping as much as possible. While they are hot when they are not paying attention to themselves, the whole vanity/mirror obsession thing totally turns me off. Chicken: yes. Hot: no.
I blame the Metrosexuality movement, makeover reality shows and that goddamn Queer Eye show. Damn you five Gotham homos for turning perfectly handsome young men into big girly primp-obsessed fidgeters. You college frat boys have been completely emasculated, you know that? Here's a tip: if you can't fix your look in the bathroom, it's not worth fixing in a public place. It makes you look like a frikkin' dandy when you are doing your hair in the weight room. Must we always be ready for our close-ups, Mr. DeMille?
There is nothing hotter than a guy who is casually dressed and coiffed (or not coiffed at all), confident in who he is, and paying no attention to how he looks. And he doesn't have to be in some kind of affected masculine outfit, like with the forced (and tired) flannel-and-ballcap Bear look. Just wearin' what he is comfortable in and doin' his thing. That's hot, primping is not.
May 4, 2006
the nightmares will continue until the deadline is met
Day three of horrid nightmares that have been happening around 2 or 3am every night this week. They're of the disturbing kind where you have to fully awaken to purge them completely from your mind, or else you just go back to sleep and they continue. I know why I'm having them - although my final paper and exam are done with little stress, I still have this newsletter/annual report due NOW at work and it's clearly stressing me out, which is expressed in my nightmares. Here's a running account of each evening's horrid scenarios:
In each case I wake up panting when the assorted creatures begin feeding on me.
This is what happens when you are a former biology major and also play Dungeons and Dragons into your 30's. It's just a bad combo for a wild imagination and subconcious.
May 3, 2006
scruffy DC United hottie part of World Cup team
I'm not normally the biggest soccer fan, but this has me intrigued:
Ben Olsen is a nice Pennsylvania boy known for his charity efforts. Also interesting is the inclusion of the first Hawaiian American into the World Cup team, another hottie named Brian Ching.
So here's to two healthy, hottie Americans...as opposed to the rest of us. Apparently even the richest white man is less healthy than the poorest British Caucasian. We wake up too early in the morning, work too long, skip too many meals, drive too much, don't walk or exercise enough, and our portions are too big. Our food is shit, and we drink too much caffienated beverages and sugary, acidic soda. Work and independence of transporation rank higher in importance to Americans than personal health. The results of the study are no surprise.
So sleep in, eat smaller portions, walk or ride your bike for a change. Limit your day at work to 8 hours, and any excuse for working longer is just too bad - there really isn't any good excuse to my ears. If you work too much you are buying into a fucked-up American cultural trait that is killing all of us. And for what reason? You get a tacky laser-printed certificate at the end of 5 years saying what a good sport you've been for working so much, even when you are sick.
And thanks for passing your cold on to me, asshole.
May 2, 2006
I don't even know where to start on this one...
A friend forwarded me a link to this Yahoo group:
Nothing wrong with club that's into physical male-to-male contact, but then I saw some odd phrases in the club's description, such as 'GoYS' (mouse over on the image to read the text) and my hackles started to rise.
I could devote a day to ranting about the penetration-phobic, gender hung-up statements on that site, among other things. Then I found this page, where at the bottom are quantifiable steps in how to seduce straight guys. Creepy at best, predacious at worst.
Let the gay boys with masculinity issues spend their time chasing straight guys, spinning their wheels. I'm a romantic type who believes in getting along in the long term, and deception of self or other just doesn't induce trust in the long term. Anyway, I leave today's entry mainly for discussion, as there's too much in the links above to even start a rant. My term paper is still due and is calling...
May 1, 2006
Carlos Ponce has big guns
Or is it just the camera angle?
Puerto Rican singer Carlos Ponce sings on a track while recording a Spanish-language version of the U.S. national anthem on April 26, 2006, in Miami. The recording, dubbed "Nuestro Himno," which means "Our Anthem" in English, is set to "rhythmic Latin musical arrangement" but respects the song's traditional structure, said Adam Kidron, who heads the record label Urban Box Office.