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June 29, 2006

More Hot Jews

Gabe Kapler of the Boston Red Sox shaved his head this season. While he's neither furry nor very scruffy, now he's a hot muscle Daddy with big guns:GabeKapler2.jpg
I hadn't posted anything of shallow content lately, so I just thought I'd keep up the good work:
GabeKapler3.jpg
Oh, the chin, and the grin! GRRRR!

Posted by jimbo at 9:16 AM | Comments (10) | TrackBack

June 28, 2006

this 'n that

I think the extensive network of termite tunnels connecting my basement to the outside aided in draining the excess rainwater away from my home. I got no basement leakage at all. It's dry as a bone and snuggly down in my hobbit hole.

Thinking about Rush Limbaugh on Viagra reminded me of the time I spotted another person who we don't want to think about as a sexual person - a very wrinkly Senator Strom Thurmond (when he was alive). I spotted him in Arlington with a young lady friend once. It was spooky. I also saw an aged Tony Randall a few years ago too with a different young lady friend. Eeeeew...

Someone asked me about the park ranger reference I made in a past entry. Yes, I was a park ranger for the U.S. Forest Service (Chugach National Forest, Alaska), U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service (Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge, Homer, Alaska), and for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in Rock Island, Illinois. 2 summers and 1 year, respectively. I was what was called an interpretive park ranger, as opposed to law enforcement or recreation (people) management. In other words, I was the homo in green polyester giving nature programs. No, no porno or hot scenarios ever happened I'm afraid. Aside from the houseboat of homos going through the lock and dam who got all giggly when I waved hello to them in my ranger uniform, nothing untoward happened. And those polyester uniforms are very sweaty and uncomfortable in the summer, fyi. I have very few photos of me in my park ranger uniforms, but I'll go look soon.

I tried to get a park ranger job when I moved here, but their pay is very low, salary cap ceiling insufficient for living a normal life in this region. Plus all the park ranger interpretive jobs were historic in content, rather than wildlife which I preferred to talk about.

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June 27, 2006

life's questions...

Gurl Asks*: "How come a humidifier is $20, but a de-humidifier costs $140?"

The last time I've seen the ground this saturated with water was when I was a park ranger in Illinois, right before the flood of 1993.

I think we're gonna get more flooding if it continues to rain like this. Luckily we're close to the Bay, so there's not much river to flood. But it would be cool to be able to feed carp in my front yard.

*This is a rhetorical question for humorous purposes only, to point out the irony of life a la George Carlin. An actual answer to this question is neither required nor desired. If you attempt to answer this question, a death-pulse of nonharmonic negative electromagnetic frequency will be sent via this blog to your keyboard, instantly slaying you.

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June 26, 2006

The first three letters in the word 'funeral' are F-U-N!

Up playing City of Heroes late last night, I watched it rain, and rain, and rain for hours. I can't wait to go ride my bike to see the flooding up the C&O canal towpath tonight. While my garden plants love all this natural watering, so do the weeds, and there are millions of weed seedlings coming up fast. Time to lay down the bark chips.

This weekend I used my Scandinavian powers of stoicism for good, to get stuff coordinated for my friend's funeral service while others vented and emoted. I have a much harder time dealing with people dealing with death, rather than dealing with death itself. From an early age I was aware by necessity that people die and cease to be with us, and I am aware that it doesn't phase me as much as it does for others. But I understand that others may need more time or to express more than I need to.

I'll have to admit, however, it has been nice meeting his siblings and seeing the gang all back together again. That's the nice part about funerals - getting back together with all of the posse. It sounds grim, but it's one positive feature of funerals and rememberance services. And remember kids, the first three letters in the word 'funeral' are F-U-N! I'm making Jell-O for the service.

And my beet soup was frikkin' heavenly, fyi. Had some of it cold last night, with a dollop of sour cream. Nummy.

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June 24, 2006

tremble at my culinary might

Behold:
beetsoup.jpg
Thanks to Russian Sean and Indiana Mike, whose recipe suggestions I combined to make what is already a very tasty warm soup. As it chills, you all can only briefly conceptualize a mere iota of my culinary might. Fear my power. Tomorrow I add a dollop of sour cream to the cold crimson delciousness that is my creation.

Recipe I used is at the break:

COLD BEET AND CELERY SOUP
1 cup finely chopped onion
2 cups thinly sliced celery
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons sugar
1 1/2 pounds beets, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
1 tablespoon red-wine vinegar plus additional to taste
3 cups low-salt chicken broth
ice water for thinning soup
sour cream, seasoned with bottled horseradish, and minced fresh chives for garnish

Roast the red beets with garlic, salt, pepper and olive oil at 400 degrees, for at least 30 minutes and as long as 45, depending upon your oven. The roasing process really intensifies the sugars within the beet. The beets should be tender and have 'give' under a fork, but have a bit of crispiness on the outside edges. Best results are found by quartering them--if you roast them whole, they could take a couple hours. After roasting, peel and puree. The crisped sides actually puree up along with the roasted flesh to add more flavor. You should, however, remove the outer skin after roasting--it gets gruesome bitter. (I peeled beforehand).

In a heavy saucepan cook onion and celery in oil with sugar and salt and pepper to taste over moderately low heat, stirring, until softened and add beets, 1 tablespoon vinegar, and broth. Simmer mixture, covered, 35 to 40 minutes, or until beets are very tender.
In a blender purée mixture in batches until very smooth, transferring as puréed to a bowl. Chill soup, covered, at least 6 hours or overnight.

Add sour cream and/or nonfat yogurt to thin out the soup, and to add a layer of tanginess. Garnish with rustic toast points and some lemon zest.

Garnish soup with sour cream and chives.
Makes about 7 cups.

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June 23, 2006

we will miss you

Last night I got notice that a longtime friend of mine had died this week. Earlier in the week a mutual friend informed me the friend's voice mail box was full, and that they were going to check things out. He was found to have died in his sleep.

I'm doing OK now, but I'm expecting to freak out in about 48 hours or so, my usual freak out countdown in such situations.

He was one of the first people I met when I first moved to DC, and remained a good friend all that time. When he was in a good condition he was always fun, open, honest and had the best advice when I was in the worst shape. We had been through a lot together, and he helped me grow a lot in my time here in DC, both as a person and with good professional advice as well. I looked up to him and still want to do what he did professionally.

We will miss you.

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June 22, 2006

vindicated

Thanks to Eric, I am vindicated by the lead to New York Magazine's Urban Etiquette Handbook. It's quite a gold mine of good, and sometimes snarky, advice. After another bad experience at the movie theatre this week and from other recent encounters, I thought the 'e' word had been forgotten. Apparently not, and here are some of my favorite gems of advice:

Practicing Proper Cellular Conduct: Where you can and can’t answer the phone.
The Four Levels of iPod Interaction: Whom you do and don’t have to unplug for.

What’s the best way to hush someone in a movie theater?
How much locker-room nudity is acceptable?

THE GROOMER
Crime: Plucking eyebrows, curling eyelashes, flossing teeth (!), or clipping fingernails (!!) on the subway.
Rudeness Factor: 8

THE GOBBLER
Crime: Eating messy food or consuming a perilously sloshing drink.
Rudeness Factor: 9

WHEN IS IT ACCEPTABLE TO BLACKBERRY (Jimbo: cell phone?) DURING A CONVERSATION?
When it’s a “conversation” in the sense of “The New School Presents a Conversation With Harold Bloom” and you’re there. Otherwise, never. This remains one of society’s most frequent breaches of basic human decency. Seriously, what is wrong with those people?!?

For harsh and fast rules on how to best order drinks in a bar or restaurant, go visit TheSeanShow. The above New York Magazine articles were great, but a few specifics went unanswered for me, such as: If you don't care for (Mom & people at work, don't follow this link) Prince Albert piercings, how do you politely request that they remove it before your tooth enamel gets chipped? I find them obstructive and distracting. I do know that if you don't ask for the jewelry to be removed before the application of lubricants, removal can be a challenging, slippery and awkward effort.

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June 21, 2006

petit jury duty

I made it to my jury duty appointment today. Thankfully I am not going to jail. Being in the Moultrie Courthouse building was a generally unpleasant experience from the get-go. While waiting in line to go through entryway security, a very drunk man was behind me cursing loudly, reeking of hard liquor. I suppose he was showing up for jury duty like me. After that I smelled several other people who reeked of booze. Perhaps they were onto something, as later I realized they were probably on the right track. I thought it would be wise to take a trip to the bathroom before I had to wait for Eternity, but in the men's room someone was apparently giving birth to a rotten beached pilot whale, the smell was so bad. Following obscure directions, we were led to wait in a room with 100 other people whose personal potential to serve was wasted for over an hour. Temperatures in the room were kept at a minimum 90-degrees Farenheit to ensure maximum torment.

As I waited in the Torment Room, the woman to my left was getting some really good sleep. I was kind of jealous of her ability to escape our shared conscious reality and wanted to join her to escape our purgatory. But to my right was Miss Krinkles, whose bag of nuts was the crinkliest bag in the world. And she only ate one nut at a time. Her mouth was open as she smacked away at each nut.

Finally, we were shown a 'how to' jury video, after which a list of us were called out into the hallway. I did not know if we were meant to serve or go home. Fortunately, we were not to serve that day, and I'm good for another two years or so.

After that I had a nice lunch from one of those downtown buffet places, and included beets with my cottage cheese. I really like beets. I think I'm going to make a cold beet summer soup of some kind this weekend. Anyone have any suggestions?

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June 20, 2006

Stanley Cup furgasm

Cam Ward, Hurricanes goalieCongrats to the Carolina Hurricanes, a sun belt team, who beat out the long-established Edmonton Oilers last night in the Stanley Cup finals. Didn't hear about it? It wasn't even covered in the Washington Post Express this morning, but there were 4 pages of World Cup semifinal news. I guess hockey just isn't that big around here. Turns out the Jimbo pick, Cam Ward, was the player of the game, in addition to being quite woofy for a 22 year-old.
Yeah, drink it:
Mmm...beer
And after their victory, there was a furgasm on the ice:
furgasm.jpg
When I was in undergrad back in 1990 or so, I lived on the hockey wing of my university. We had division III champions, many of whom were imported from Canada. I was not out of the closet then, but it is no surprise that I came out not long after. At the time when I was living with all of them, I would avert my eyes in the group shower, and would avoid looking into their open dorm room doors to avoid seeing them shirtless kicking back watching television, all scruffy and furry. D'OH! If I could turn back time.

Last evening we had several nice downpours in the area that gave the soil a much needed soaking. I took this picture at the College Park MetroRail station on the Green Line last night:
rain at the College Park MetroRail station
My plants are thick and green today, and nothing clears the snot out of your head like a run over a misty post-thunderstorm Rock Creek Park.

Thought of the Day: Did we ever find out who did the whole anthrax in the mail thing? How come our politicians never talk about it anymore? Is our mail system safe? Who did it? Does anyone care? I still think about it.

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June 19, 2006

our median strip is better than yours

I am quite proud of the fabulous landscaping on the Vermont Avenue median strip between 10th and S:
Vermont Avenue median strip
I didn't landscape it, fyi. All my neighbors, including the flipper couple and also the Spanish couple on the other end of the street care for it. Aside from the petunias frying last week, most of the species on it are heat-tolerant and can handle the extreme temperatures of being right off the asphalt. I've tried to compliment it by planting the same species in my own yard. Apparently the neighborhood organization applied for some kind of grant, used it to fund the removal of the concrete in the median, and made these plantings. I'm sure the motivation for beautification has a bit to do with raising adjacent property values, but it also looks darn nice. I like how the violet Russian sage flowers go so well with the echinacea blossoms.
What I look at every work day

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June 18, 2006

And on the seventh day...

...I shaved my beard, went to the gym, dusted my bedroom window blinds, and cleaned the bathroom:
Joan Crawford, eat your heart out...
And thanks to Sean and Markie, I couldn't stop saying "Let's get some shoes!" all weekend.

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June 17, 2006

the dream of the dumped pumpkins

In addition to maintaining a good mood, another benefit of sleeping in is that I'm able to remember my bizarre waking dreams, and they are weird. This morning's waking dream featured me as the caretaker of a bumper crop of pumpkins gathered in a sandy used antique farm implement lot. There was a sandpit nearby that I had decorated with a few pumpkins I had carved into jack-o-lanterns, but did not intend to dispose of the excess pumpkins there. I was only decorating. But soon two Others arrived and started dumping the excess pumpkins into that pit, and I tried to explain to these people that that was the wrong place to put them. I was intending to dump them in an environmentally friendly way somewhere else. I could only watch as they continued to dump the pumpkins in an improper location. Analyze that. Did the dream represent an embarassment of riches, or hopelessness in the face of authority? Our dreams help sort out what we can't in our conscious state. Discuss.

Meanwhile, my daydreams consist of Canadian Idol's comedy relief, Jon Dore, their humorous show correspondent. Thanks for Canadian Jay for the images. Woof:
JonDore.jpg
While Baltimore Pride rages this weekend in the arrived summer heat, I plan on taking it easy today getting my bike tire replaced, and enjoying my air conditioning.

Like my new redesign? It's inspired by the Sony Bravia advertisement campaign of Superballs flying down the street.

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June 16, 2006

grumpy, sneezy, happy

Although I am wearing my favorite Disney 'Grumpy' shirt today, I am no longer grumpy or needy this week, thank you. As I explained to my buddy last night, grumpy rants on this blog most often follow a really awesome, and late, night with City of Heroes. Lack of sleep = grumpiness and low self esteem. I'm fairly caught up on sleep now, an I plan on sleeping in Saturday and Sunday my sake and yours.

Although I should be wearing my 'Sneezy' shirt as last night my sniffles turned into full-on congestion when I got home. Nothing Ny- and Day-Quil can't handle, I'm just a little under the weather is all.

I am especially Happy today since I finally sent the infernal accursed frikkin'-frakkin' hateful nasty overly large evil soul-sucking newsletter/annual report to the printer yesterday. 28 pages, the largest I've done to date. That was the deadline thing that was giving me nightmares. Last night I slept peacefully. I had been working on and worrying about that thing for months.

It might have been the beer though. Last night I went out to an accoustic show at Staccato last night. I had never been there before, and the show was pretty good. It was also full of a bunch of handsome men, including Mr. Bartender and his awesome beard. My social life blossoms.

Chrisafer finds out that a man with the same name as him was stabbed in NYC recently. There was some D-List actor with my name who drowned a while back. There are 4 people in DC with my name, even same middle name in 2 cases. 1 is British. I know this because I crank called him to find out who he was. Another guy in DC with my same name is super-hot. I always have to be careful at the pharmacy, because a few of these other Jimbos get their prescriptions there too. I have sometimes been given the wrong crack. Here is a corner somewhere in the U.K. with my name on it:
streetlikethat.jpg
I'm street like that, yo.

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June 15, 2006

batboy tackles drunk

This morning I was watching the usual blather on the Today show, and they showed a clip from a Red Sox/Twins baseball game from last night. The Red Sox batboy tackled a drunk who had run onto the field. I noticed it was a perfectly executed rugby tackle, and my suspicions were confirmed by this story:

Nate Reese, a 25-year-old batboy made a tackle on a fan who jumped on the field in the eighth inning.

"Play of the game," Twins reliever Joe Nathan said.

It occurred with David Ortiz at the plate. Two spectators jumped out of the stands and began to run across the outfield, avoiding six not-so-nimble security guards.

One ran by Torii Hunter, giving the affable Twins center fielder a high five. The other headed toward the infield, rounded third and belly flopped on the plate.

As soon as he got to his feet, Reese leveled him and drew a standing ovation.

"There weren't any guards around, so I just thought I'd hit him," said Reese, who was a wrestler in high school and played rugby in college.

"Rugby?" Hunter said to Reese. "You stuck him like you played football, perfect form."

Hunter doesn't know what he's talking about - from the clip I could see it was a perfectly excecuted rugby tackle right there at home plate. Good on ya, Nate.

It's Stanley Cup time, and do you know what that means? PLAYOFF SCRUFF! There's even an obsessive hockey fan blog on the topic, playoffbeard.com.

Tomorrow night OMG DJ Timothy Mykael is spinning at Cobalt, and has sent me a JIMBO.INFO exclusive sneak-peek at some of the track list highlights:

Bananarama - Look on the Floor (Hyptonic Tango)
Bette Midler - Fever
Chelo - Cha Cha
Destiny's Child - Girl
Faith Evans - Mesmerized
Gustavo Santaolalla - The Wings
Heather Small - Proud
Kelly Clarkson - Walk Away
Natasha Bedingfield - The One That Got Away
Paris Hilton - Stars are Blind
Pink - Stupid Girls
Rhianna - SOS
The Pussycat Dolls - Buttons

He also promises a few brand new ones and some old classics. OMG!

Dan "Eyes of Smouldering Emeralds*" Tangherlini (or DanTan* as me and Carl refer to the interim WMATA manager) thinks entertainment in the MetroRail system would make things "more fun or interesting or peaceful." I can only imagine my peaceful subway experience with one of those annoying paint bucket drummers filling the station with uninspired rhythms, then having to listen to the summer interns (Jennifers**) as they screech even louder to be heard over the beat.

* I'd better get credit for that term if it shows up elsewhere. Fifty bucks says either phrase ends up in the mainstream press within a month - mark my words.

** The term "Jennifer" was originally coined by Chrisafer, meaning any random 20something new to DC with an internship on the Hill. Jennifer usually has a boyfriend named Mike, and is really loud in large groups and at gay bars.

According to JoeMyGod, Prince will be performing in Bryant Park tomorrow (Friday June 16) sometime between 7-9AM on the Good Morning America show.

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June 14, 2006

LASIK pre-op appointment

jessica simpson and her friend casey get LASIK "Ohmigawd! Like I can't see and my pupils are sooo big!"

This morning I went in to see if I am a candidate for LASIK eye surgery, and I am. The doc could have spared me the song-and-dance dog-and-pony show to sell it to me. Long before going in I was aware of how much it might cost, the risks, and how the procedure would go. Thanks to several of my readers, I am well-informed on the topic.

(And thanks to many more, today I feel more special, less needy, and loved today too, thanks.)

I will be getting the procedure done in late July. I will provide pictures of me with the cool sunglasses they give you after the surgery.

But the drops that they give you to map your cornea have my pupils dilated larger than they ever were at any evening at Nation. The sky...it BURNS my eyesesss, My Precious!!! As it is I can barely read or type, but I have the most bitchin' pair of sunglasses on today at my desk while I work (and blog).

And today, just because it's World Cup soccer time and all that lately, a re-posted picture of Sweden's soccer scruff captain, Olof Mellberg:
I 'heart' your beard, Olof
I wonder if he's playing in the World Cup?

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June 13, 2006

various and sundry rants and woofy pictures

An assortment of rants, judgements, thoughts and woofy pictures today. Clearly I am feeling needy and a bit cranky today:

If you are a friend, former lovah, or strong acquaintance of mine and "keep up" with me by reading my blog, it is still no subsitute for a personal e-mail or phone call, which I really do appreciate from time to time. It makes me feel special when you give an unwarranted call or e-mail me directly, with a "Hey Jimbo" in the salutation line. Think about it: via my blog you are looking at me in a room through a one-way mirror. I don't know you're there.

If you once promised to meet up with me and did not show up with no explanation, and then don't follow up with with an e-mail or call as to why, resentment will build. As it stands, you're on shaky ground already, buster.

James Denton is totally hotThis is James Denton, from that one really popular show that I don't watch. And please don't tell me I need to watch it, thanks. But I will watch him. Nice beard, fly haircut too. Thanks to Otterdoc for the scruffy submission.

Props to all the nice normal well-adjusted humans who have approached me in various social settings and in the gym to say, "Hello, I just wanted to say I read your blog..." I appreciate it, and no I don't think you're wierd. Scowls and frowns to those of you who read my blog but just look at me strangely in bars.

The weather this spring continues to be incredible, uncharacteristically cool and dry so far. My best spring yet in DC, hands down. No swamp ass whatsoever!

Homer is coming to visit in late July. Yaaay!

On Bigmuscle.com and Bigmusclebears.com, why do hot guys from Los Angeles, New Orleans and Atlanta give me an 'I Like' but hot guys from Washington, D.C., San Francisco and Seattle do not? What is the relation between city demographic, general friendliness and attraction to Jimbo?

OMG DJ Timothy Mykael is spinning this Friday at Cobalt. I will be going. He sent me a secret bonus track that he might play, a remix of Heather Small's "Proud," the Pride '06 version. Two and a half rotations of it (7:11) fueled a wonderful run over the Rock Creek bridges into Adam's Morgan last night through the wonderful dry, cool air. There are awfully handsome men at my gym these days. For some reason DC got prettier over the summer.

So if a person cannot get laid at a big giant gay rugby tournament, a big bear dance party, various Blowoffs, at gay pride, nor at a farm full of gay men, does that mean his Aura of Desperation has now become visible in broad daylight? Is there a large tumor or ectoparasite sticking out of the side of my face? Do I spit when I talk? Do I have bad breath or something? Are my horns showing? Do people have a problem with my moles? I don't know what the fuck is up lately, but it's been quite a dry spell. Today after lunch, Chrisafer's partner captured this palpable Aura of Desperation on film. Gurl came up for lunch gossip and gabbing too:
gurl, jimbo, bubble tea
This is, I think, Ben Roethlisberger and his hot football coach Mr. Cowher. Imagine the two together. Ben has most recently been shaggy, but I don't mind the ornery buzzcut look either. Ben got in a motorcycle accident recently. He was not wearing a helmet.
Ben, Coach Cowher - woofy duo
I've heard a lot less griping this year from gay people about how press and newspaper photos focus on the leather and drag queens at Pride. I think many people have realized that we are not being accepted as "normal," will never pass for Ward and June Cleaver, and people have realized that we are actually different from straight people, and that the point of Pride is to celebrate this difference. Think of it more as 'Freak Pride', because if we can't celebrate the freaky people, then there's no room for gays in the freak room either.

And I also noticed that we celebrate this difference with much more fun and fabulousness than The Others ever could. We really are good at whimsy, fun and being fabulous. Grumpy 'normal' gays need to realize that and appreciate it.

But my personal tolerance for difference stops at popped collars on polo shirts. Please, someone make it stop. And men with Capri pants. And those stained straw cowboy hats that were so over in 2002. And trucker caps. And overalls with no shirt or underwear underneath. And jelly bracelets. And anything that reminds me what I wore in the early 80s the first time around.

Photo snatched from the Post a few weeks ago, of some cops from Fairfax. Someone said I look like the cop on the right:
FairfaxCops.jpg
Yes, it has been about complacency, I think. We became complacent during the Clinton years, and now we are starting to realize people still hate us for being different, and that they do not understand us at all. That is why we enjoyed Pride so much this year, and better appreciate the drag queens and leather queens. I guess we can thank W for revealing what we were ignoring in the past. It is easier to think everything is fine, but it isn't, and better the devil you know than the devil you don't.

Regardless, I still need to get laid some time soon.

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June 11, 2006

pulled pork and pooped pooches with pride

For all my vegetarian readers out there:
mmmm....pulled pork
I had a great weekend out at a friend's farm celebrating his birthday. There was lots of drinking, eating, gay people, and their dogs:
the loch ness petunia
When we weren't out at the stream drinking and making the dogs swim, many of us held secret meetings to plot the end of American family culture. It was a lot of hard work for some of us:
festus had a long weekend
Down by the water I spotted a Louisiana waterthrush (my first!), and the whip-poor-wills were singing under a full moon in the early evening.

I returned early enough to join more drunk gurls coming back from the festival, which I heard was heavily sponsored by corporations and various candiates for office.

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June 8, 2006

Ben Cohen makes my smurf itch

When I posted that picture of Ben Cohen earlier this week I was amazed so many of y'all didn't know about him. There are tons 'o images on BenCohen.com and at texkenobi's flickr site for all you fur-o-philes out there. He's quite the exhibitionist. And can you believe a 230-pound guy plays wing? Lookit all this wet man-fur:
Ben Cohen's Wet Man-Fur
Have a good weekend at Pride.

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June 7, 2006

morbidly obese with pride

It is the 2006 Capital Pride Parade and Festival this weekend, but I will be away to the friend's farm in West Virginia instead, as it's his 40th birthday and they're having a celebration in the valley. It should be fun, but peripheral, non-family guests will be relegated to tents. I don't know where I'll put mine...close to the farmhouse, creek or pasture? It depends on which noise source I want to be woken up with: a slamming screen door, cows or water?

The Mesmers logoAnyhow, Fitz is terribly excited as his band, The Mesmers, are the opening act for the festival main stage performances. Go check 'em out.

And of course there will be a Blowoff that I'm gonna have to miss, but oh well.

Well, we all survived 6/6/06. And ya know, technically all the non-six digits in '2006' kinda mess up the whole sixisms theory anyway. It wasn't purely a bunch of sixes and Satan totally hates the 2s and 0s. I don't think I'm going to see The Omen either. It wasn't that scary the first time, and I'm just not interested in seeing some Hollywood hack's depiction of my childhood.

I'm 7 of 9, Biotch!How can this President keep me so enraged every day of the week? On Monday President Fuckhead does some official gay-bashing from the White House garden, on Tuesday his minions waste time voting on banning gay marriage while far larger problems exist in this country and world, and on Wednesday he wastes more time telling America we must all 'assimilate'. To what? We all have to act white and uptight? Fuck that shit. I'm going home tonight and cookin' up some lutefisk, sanbakkles and oyster stew and watch reruns of some Swedish Chef sketches while I snack on pickled herring so I can get my Scandinavian-American on.

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June 6, 2006

U Street self-contained ecosystem paradise

The iris in my pond out back gave one blossom a few weeks ago, and I took a photo before I left for NYC:
iris.jpg
This Saturday I planted two Russian sage plants, and relocated some castor bean plants to flank them on each side. Behind them are sunflowers, and to the left are zinnias, echinacea, rudibechia and daisies that promise a few blossoms later this month. I don't know where I'll put the Devil's Claw plants that are coming up behind the sunflowers, but I think they'll need more light when they get bigger.
front2.jpg
Out back I planted some elephant ears, and the hostas and my bathroom fern are enjoying the shade. The pond iris is done blooming now. Small lily pads have come up, and I've relocated the aquarium guppies into the pond to control the mosquito larvae. Once outside they'll get bigger, more colorful, and have lots of babies.
back2.jpg
And here's a photo I took of one of my favorite birds, the simple song sparrow, that has a very cheerful call. His wings are spread out because it was hot that day, and he was airing out his armpits. I like the pattern on his chest - cuz baby, he's a star:
songsparrow1.jpg
I suppose since I'm still burning in gay hell for being critical about that gay cowboy movie, I can burn in geek hell for being critical about X:3. I will say that it was entertaining and it was cool to see all the powers displayed so well, and I can give the writers a break for downgrading Phoenix from a cosmic force to a mental disorder. It was good to see Cyclops with scruff, and of course you know I LOVED that muscle and fur on Vinnie Jones as Juggernaut, and Colossus wasn't bad either (but could have had some more lines). But a lot of the lines were layered so heavy with Cheez-Whiz I was shaking my head, and where the hell was Nightcrawler? He was my favorite, but Jamie Madrox, the Multiple Man was a surprise to see. At least Storm got some better lines this time around and got to kick ass with her powers, and I was impressed with Kelsey Grammar as the Beast.

And yes, I stayed for the secret ending part, and someone's cell phone rang THREE TIMES during the film with some classic old skool rap ring tone. But I held it together and didn't go Jimbo Postal on them.

God does exist, but she apparently was hungry. Is this the return of Sekhmet, raining vengance upon the wicked and those filled with hubris, perhaps?

For some people, every day is the day of the beast.
Please, don't kiss the beast.
Be superior at least.

Rain is wet,
and sugar is sweet.

Clap your hands,
and stomp your feet.

Everybody,
everybody knows,

when Love calls,
you got to go.

Welcome to the New Power Generation.
The reason why my voice is so clear is that there's no smack in my brain.

Posted by jimbo at 8:42 AM | Comments (11) | TrackBack

June 5, 2006

I am so scene

Despite senseless deaths in Iraq, our idiot President protecting us from the horrors of gay marriage, and other various and sundry portents of doom, we are lucky to have pictures of England rugby's Ben Cohen in underwear on the Internets to help us forget such things:
beautiful treasure trail
Ben has the most adorable little kid smile complimented by a lush growth of chest fur, accentuated with a distinct and imminently lickable treasure trail. Shoulders like breakfast-sized bran muffins too.

I went to see Kathy Griffin last night at the Warner Theatre with a bunch of catty queens, and it was a lot of fun. Her routine was LONG, and we certainly got our money's worth from the show. I laughed a lot. I hope she kicks Ryan Seacrest's ass some day (again).

Before that I was a big giant queen and had two big girly cosmos at Halo. We were discussing that apparently some people loathe Halo for some reason. I go there because it's smoke free, and there are usually fewer overly-drunk twinks there who can't handle their booze, because the booze there ain't cheap, so it keeps the cheapos out of the place. Apparently some people avoid going there for fear of being perceived as in "the scene" too much, whatever that means. I am so scene. Fear this queen.

I remember shaking things up there this winter when I had a birthday gathering. Most of the guys who showed up to meet me were either on the rugby team or had facial hair. This was disturbing to the usual crowd at Halo, as one of whom approached us and said sibilantly, "Exssscussse me? Isss thisss Bear night or sssomething?" I love it.

I am going to see X-Men tonight. I hear that it isn't all that consisent with the comics, but these days not even the comics are consistent with the comics. There must be like a dozen X-titles out on the shelves these days. Do not be in shock that I haven't seen the film yet - I don't go opening weekends, or any weekends, for that matter as I don't like huge theatre crowds. Anyone using a cell phone in the theatre, as they usually do in DC, enrages me and it totally ruins the experience for me. On weeknights there are usually fewer opportunities for me to be enraged by movie theatre cell phone use.

Posted by jimbo at 10:57 AM | Comments (10) | TrackBack

June 3, 2006

post-apocalyptic workout

So there's still terrorist cells in Canada and probably in the U.S. which we are unprepared for, there's been homeland security cuts for DC and NYC (but not for Bismarck, ND), Osama is still on the run and we never figured out who dropped anthrax in the postal system, we are still not quick enough in helping victims in the U.S. with natural disaster aid, Iraq is a mess, we are in debt, energy prices are high, salaries are low (but not for CEOs) and so is our quality of education, and we are the fattest country in the world.

So what does the President plan on doing on Monday? Talk about preventing gays from marrying and adopting children right there in the White House Rose Garden. What a noble priority for the sake of our families.

Really, if you still support the President and his cult-party of religious maniacs you are stupid.

Anyway, I had a nice Jimbo catch-up day today. I slept in until Noon, catching up on my sleep deficit from last weekend, and caught up on some phone calls. Had a great workout at the gym despite the creepy dude who kept going out of his way to do useless ab workouts in front of me so he could keep pointing his ass at me, and I even ran for 25 minutes. I imagined I was running away from the creepy dude while I was on the treadmill, which made for a good run. Then I got some more plants for the front and back yards, including some nice Russian sage plants which will do well in the post-apocalyptic soil and sun exposure up front, and some pretty pink-leaved and shade-tolerant plants out back.

And I am completely enchanted with the dancer in the video of the Linus Loves cover of Stevie Nick's 'Stand Back' (Vocal Club Edit). Slightly adorkable, handsome, and he gots MOVES! The music is great too.
I love you hot dancing man
Regardless of body hair coverage, exceptional male dancers with a masculine way of moving turns my crank like nothing else. There was a rugger from the Philly team who moved like that last weekend, but I was too bug-eyed to say hi.

Posted by jimbo at 8:46 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

June 1, 2006

"a slippery slope," or the future?

There were a number of discussions, situations and comments that came up last weekend at the big "gay" rugby tournament regarding assimilation, segregation, inclusion and intergration of gays and straights. Let me put them into points, then figure out what I want to say about it, or what you want to say:

  • At the opening ceremony of the tournament, it was mentioned by one of the speakers that unlike many gay sports organizations, the gay rugby association (IGRAB) makes no quota or requirements as to how many people on a team must be gay or straight.
  • On Saturday night I met a few guys from the DC flag football team visiting NYC that weekend, and the quota issue came up. They said that in their sport there was an unwritten rule of 2-3 allowed straight guys on their teams, and one guy said he thought our 50/50 straight/gay demographic was "a slippery slope."
  • At one point in the tournament I did a little survey of the gay/straight demographics on our A- and B-sides. During our A-side (Cup) match against Manchester, 3 of the 15 players were gay, the rest were straight. Meanwhile on another pitch our B-side (Plate) had 2 (purported) straight guys playing while the other 13 were gay.
  • Thoughout the entire tournament, our straight players were just fine with all the gay stuff, made lube jokes, came to the gay bars and politely declined any advances or overt interest in them.
  • I was chatting with a girlfriend of one of the straight players, who said that she percieved that in social settings with our team, the straight guys tended to hang out with other straight guys, and the gays with the gays. I attribute this to my Cheerios In Milk theory - similar people simply stick together. However, our big straight tank was always hanging out with the gays much of the weekend. I don't see that much segregation myself.
  • The first guy I hit on Sunday night at the XXL party was straight, but diplomatically unwilling to consumate the evening with me. I was cool with that, so was he.
  • Yeah, it was a downer that he was unavailable to me, but I thought it was cool that such a situation could occur with little more discomfort than being shot down by a gay man.

    Josh declares The Death of The Ghetto, while West Hollywood is experiencing a demographic change much like DuPont Circle and 17th Street already have. The two issues are apples and oranges. Neighborhood demographic change is unrelated to issues of gay ghetto segregation and integration, and 'hoods will always shift and change, like a riverbed, as Miss In Shaw documents.

    Related Link from The Onion:

    Series Finale of Will and Grace Ends Eight-Year Truce Between Gay, Straight Communities

    As for us being a "gay team," (or not) at first I was resistant to the idea of us increasing our recruitment of straight guys while maintaining our gay recruitment. As it was, there were only so many gay rugby players you can find in one city, and we were getting tired of losing so much. But since then we've become more competitive, and our practices often have enough players where we can play full-team scrimmages of 15-players each. We've won more matches since we've recruited more people, which helps in skill-building at practice since we have full teams to play against several times a week. Frankly, we're a better team with more people, and I think both the straights and the gays on our team are better people, having taken home some perspective from the other side.

    I have been surprised by the reactions coming from some of the gay boys I've talked to about the above points. Sure, it's kind of special to be able to front a wholly gay team. But we also have to be competitive. Plus I think ghettoization is bad for you, and gays that live in huge metropolitan areas often suffer a retardation of personal growth and extreme lack of perspective as to how the other 95% of the world works. This was evident in that at times the tournament almost seemed to be a peripheral event for the XXL circuit-bear party, not the other way around. It gives credence to my theory that all things touched by The Gay must ultimately become a circuit party. Anyway, when the music was turned down low enough to be able to talk to the other players at the social events, most said they simply wanted to play rugby, have something substantial to eat, and to not have to shout when they wanted to talk about the day's gladiator events. The thrumming dance music often deafened the spirit of the intended event.

    Anyway, as threatening as it seems, I believe the incursion of straights into our team and into gay sports is the future, and a good thing. They go home more comfortable with us, and tell their friends and family about playing with the gays. Otherwise ghettoized gay men with limited contact with straight people are more comfortable and better able to interact with straights after the experience. Integration and mutual acceptance is a hard and slow process, but healthier for everyone involved in the long run.

    Posted by jimbo at 10:58 AM | Comments (18) | TrackBack