September 28, 2006
fun with science, potions, witches and nature
Some of the frozen items delivered via Peapod home grocery delivery service from Giant come with dry ice. With such side benefits from the service I get to act like the evil witch Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty, and I make a vile potion to bring down my enemies:
When I drop the dry ice into warm water it roils and boils and puts off that cool gas, and I cackle like a mad hag. It's clean, simple fun.
...at the rear entry of the address.
Despite deadlines at work (well, there are always deadlines it seems...) I managed to get Friday off to drive to the Dolly Sods Wilderness area of the Monongahela National Forest in West Virginia. It is a very scenic area at the top of the Appalacian range, and almost resembles some parts of Canada or Alaska. The colors of the blueberries, maples and heather should be changing and vibrant. I can't wait. It's been a while since I've gone backpacking, and after this week I have some open spaces coming to me.
September 27, 2006
I found the car
OK, I found my friend's car not far from Results on 16th street. Both driving and having car issues reminds me that having a car is not always so fun. Only got 2 tickets, as far as I can tell. It is interesting to note that I rode past DOZENS of dark blue Volkswagon Jettas while I was looking. It seems to be a popular vehicle in DC. It is a nice ride.
So I went home and did a long overdue pubectomy. I'm cooled off now, and I feel better. And I am feeling much better today. I also came to the end of my Valium prescription yesterday. Hrmmmm...perhaps there was a correlation.
Hat tip to Carl for finding a solution to my dating issues: arranged gay marriage. I had an Indian coworker with an arranged heterosexual marriage, and she seemed to be happy with it. I asked her a lot of questions about it and it sounds cool to me. And I would have faith in a council or search committee of my friends & family whose ultimate decision would be to find my arranged partner. Oh yeah, and shady partnered gay men should still wear burquas.
There's some awesome pics on Joe Tresh's Washington photoblog of this weekend's match, and much more:
You can't catch Andy, because he's the Gingerbread Man!
This is me on crack. I don't know what was happening in this picture.
Now back to our regularly scheduled vapidity - does anyone else think Andrew Fastow is kinda hot in a silver-fox Daddylicious sort of way? Why do I always go for the convicted criminals? Remember Scott Peterson's woofy goatee? Anyhow, I think Fastow's 6-year sentence should be to raise as much money for me as he embezzled from Enron, to make my coffee and be my love slave. I would also make him manage my City of Heroes characters while I worked during the day so when I came home they would be 50th level. And weed my garden and vacuum my spiders up too.
September 26, 2006
Jimbo's 2000 blue Volkswagon Jetta-finding contest, and other shitty Monday happenings
My friend let me use and take care of his car while he was away on vacation. On Sunday afternoon I parked it on Swann Street, NW between 15th and 14th - but in a street cleaning zone for Monday. My bad, and it got moved, but not towed, according to the DC DMV towing agency. It was apparently moved to the 1800 block of 16th Street, NW, but when I searched for it this morning it was not there. I circled around all adjacent blocks searching with my LASIK-enhanced vision that allows me to see for miles, but no dice. Multiple calls to the DC DMV towing agency have come up with nothing, but they seemed to become very helpful-sounding when I asked them if I should call non-emergency, and suddenly asked for my name and number for further communications. But where is my friend's midnight blue 2000 Volkswagen Jetta, DC tags AR0144? Tonight's exercise will be to ride my bike around and look for it again, but if you e-mail me with the correct location of this car, and I find then it, I will take you out to dinner.
After having such a fantastic weekend and then losing my friend's car, Monday hit like the Terrible Tuesdays back when I was a club kid dropping E every weekend and had to recover from the ride. Damn, Monday felt like I did a 72-hour crystal meth binge starting on Friday. But no illegal substances were taken. Perhaps it was the high from such a good game on Saturday. I really was totally high from such a fun match, and I suppose there could be some medical credence to how I'm feeling today. Playing and winning is addictive, and I crave it. Just like when you drop E or acid on a Saturday night, the rest of the week seems grey and mundane.
And it doesn't help when Monday rolls around and I get an e-mail from a blog reader telling me that I look like Cameron Diaz' fat retarded brother in 'Something About Mary'. Hey Rob, thanks for having having such an awesome sense of humor! And it was so noble that you didn't put it in the comments section, but e-mailed me personally with the insult. I don't know what you were thinking by having to send that on a day that just kept getting worse, but it certainly was icing on the cake. It gets better:
I had a dinner date scheduled with a guy whom I was really looking forward to getting to know. But he called to say he had to work late. So that sucked.
On a positive note, since I had all this spare time I had set aside for the aborted date Monday night, "Heroes" on NBC was AWESOME. I loved all the characters, especially the Japanese guy ("Supa Hiro!") who can teleport and the cheerleader who seems to be nearly indestructible. And what's up with that stripper's power? Can she summon a version of herself who is kind of her Id? I know it's an X-Men ripoff, but I still can't wait until next Monday. Should anyone ask me on a date that day (Ha!) I'm afraid I'm booked, unless he wants to sit and watch with me.
This is why my City of Heroes computer game is so appealing to me these days. It's been a bad summer in general, with the death of a friend and a general lack of dates I have been really excited about. It would be nice, just once in 2006, to be asked out on a date by a guy where there was mutual interest right off the bat. But most of the time I seem to be the one always doing the approaching and advancing. Alpha Ant, Psister Shade, GooGuy and Tiny Troll were the preferred dates of summer 2006.
Or maybe I should just limit myself to rugby, running, the gym, work, and hanging out with friends. A monastic, ascetic lifestyle. Perhaps I'm not ready for the hard hits in the dating scene just yet.
So to sum up Monday, I lost my friend's car and I apparently look fat and retarded.
What a fucking shitty Monday.
September 24, 2006
Lots of animal pictures from the weekend. Will from our team took the following two pics of me riled up and ready for our match against the Atlanta Bucks, which we won despite my pessimism about the outcome before the match. We all played very well and fought hard. My face took a beating too:
Red came to watch, and enjoyed the sights and the social. He's a cool bean. My back held out well during the match, thanks to all the good Valium-induced rest I got during the week:
On Sunday me and Gurl and Bubbles went to the Maryland Rennaissance Festival to see the Renn Fest Geeks and lots of other strange animals. I liked the elephants best:
One of the elephants seemed agitated so I gave him some of my Valium and he said "Thank you for the crack!"
Here's Bubbles and Gurl watching the jousting match:
I wish they had knights on flying ostritches fighting evil knights on vultures and pterodactyls, but I had to settle for horses.
Full plate armor must be hot, but it gives you a +8 to your Armor Class:
Gurl took some good action shots:
Photo by GURL. I had hoped it was kilt weekend, but it was pirate weekend with lots of Capt. Jacks around. But there were plenty of D.I.L.F.s to be spotted:
Longbows provide ranged attacks which are useful against armies and flying opponents such as wyverns and such creatures:
On the way home I got a picture of the semi-feral cat that hangs out in my front yard. I leave some water for her to drink. I've been working on getting closer to her, and she allows me to get up to 2 feet away before walking off:
On Friday our team hosted the Bucks at Titan. Naturally I again got fingered in the ass by some bear, despite the new spaciousness of the place. Next time it happens I'm going to pretend I enjoyed his lascivious advances, but will then pour my beer down his crotch after I pretend to actually want to dig around in his crotch.
September 22, 2006
This Saturday we have home matches against Rappahannock (a local league team) and the Atlanta Bucks (a hot gay team who came to play with us). Kickoff for Rappahannock is Noon at Colmar Manor Park. Kickoff against the Bucks follows immediately after the Rappahannock match finishes. Social to follow at Titan around 3 or 4ish.
Tonight we meet 'n greet the Bucks at the now dark but more spacious Titan at 7ish. I had a stressy week and don't know if I'm gonna go. We'll see how I feel when I get home tonight, if I don't pass out entirely.
I think a buncha us geeks are going to the Rennaissance Fair out in Maryland, which is always a hoot. I hope to see muscular men in kilts, and throw some axes or shoot an arrow at targets (not the men in kilts).
September 21, 2006
After tweaking my back on Saturday during the rugby match, I asked my doctor for some painkillers and muscle relaxants. He did not prescribe me the usual stuff that seems to focus more on my muscles than on my brain. Instead, he prescribed a version of valium. I've taken the stuff before and it works wonders to put me to sleep. Now I don't know if the dosage was that much bigger than what I've had before, but I took one pill at bedtime (10pmish) on Monday night...
...and woke up at 3pm the next day, having slept almost 15 hours straight. Repeat the next day as well. I guess I have to cut the rest of the pills in half. Today was a little better, I woke up at 9am having ignored 2 hours of NPR on the alarm clock radio. I asked for a muscle relaxant, not a pachyderm tranquilizer! However, I am very well rested, feeling pleasant and am of sound mind.
On the bright side, my back feels completely improved. I guess two coma sessions will do that for the body. That and I went running with Piranha Sean yesterday, which I think warms up the muscles back there and loosens things up. I'll have to remember that in the future. Plus we ran farther than we had before, and I didn't end up gasping for life by the end of it. We run from the semicircular pond by the U.S. Capitol Building, past the Smithsonian museums on the National Mall, to the WWII Memorial, then around the ovoid ducky pond adjacent to the slimy green reflecting pool, then back to the Capitol again. There was some big gathering for cancer relief on the Mall and there were people in purple everywhere.
Even BlogStarBrettie noticed I was high on crack when I went to practice on Tuesday (but didn't play, only observed). He said I was talking like I was 'on a pillow'. Tranquilizers will do that to ya.
September 19, 2006
Renegades rugby in the news
Here I seem to be scrutinizing the thighs of the forward pack, but I'm actually preparing to put my shoulder into the meaty buttcheek of the person in front of me. This formation is called a 'scrum':
My rugby team was featured in the fitness section on page E5 in this morning's edition of the Washington Post Express, a free daily newspaper that is mostly read on Metro and public transportation. While the journalist got a few of the rugby details wrong, for the most part it is a good article. Hopefully we'll be able to get some good recruitment out of it:
Straight, gay, whatever: The Renegades are all about the sport. "I didn't know this was the gay rugby team when I joined," said Roberto Santiago, who recently retired due to a shoulder injury. "It took me, like, three weeks to go, 'Oh, I'm in the minority.' It was never an issue."I would contend that these days the team is about half-gay rather than a majority, but I haven't done an actual head count. Hopefully the article will result in more recruitment, as it's been nice that we can scrimmage two full teams during practice since expanding our recruitment outside the gay community. Back in tha day it was challenging to recruit enough gay people to front a more competitive team in our local rugby union, so the board decided to go outside the box, which has been to the team's benefit. While some straight members may not return after learning about the nature of our team, most of them stay and play, I think simply due to the ideal location. Our practice pitch (field) is conveniently located for a lot of players living inside the beltway, while most local union teams practice way out in the 'burbs.
For the gay players who may get off on the idea of playing with and against straight guys, the idea wears off after a few practices. When you see the same people at practice and during matches so frequently, it all just becomes being part of a team. Although it does lead to some interesting conversations at post-practice and match socials, where the straight guys often walk away a bit more enlightened from accelerated learning from Gay 101 and 102 lectures (they usually test out and earn credit). And for that reason I think the integration of more straight players has been beneficial for both the team and for advancing awareness of gay issues.
Our very own M.C. Slanty has some fine footage of one of our teammates puking after drinking from 'the boot', coming up at minute 1:30 on this video:
In this picture I beat the real scrumhalf to the ball, and am digging it out from between the fat guys' legs to deliver it to the skinny folks who can run:
Images courtesy of BlogStarBrettie and D.J. Slanty.
September 18, 2006
a new 'nelly' sports bar in tha 'hood
On Sunday I completely forgot to catch a sneak preview of the new Nellie's Sports Bar just around the corner from me at 900 U St., NW DC. The proprietor is a former neighbor of mine, and I think a gay sports bar is a neat idea. I don't know how much it will live up to the concept, but it's nice to be living somewhere where gay bars are popping up all around where I live!
This just in...video footage on YouTube of our Saturday rugby match. About halfway through the reel you can see me dig out a ball and do a nice scrumhalf delivery. Remember, I'm on the white, blue and scarlet team this time.
In case you didn't already mistrust the current administration, here's disturbing news about how connections to the GOP were/are more important than talent or skill in the rebuilding of Iraq. I can't imagine how much time, lives or my tax dollars have already been squandered by Joe-Bob's buddy Earl who had no international development experience but got sent overseas to manage these projects.
It is true that connections and contacts will get you places here in DC. I use it to my advantage and to help friends get jobs all the time. And to be fair I've worked under Clinton appointees that are complete bozos too. But one would hope that the appointer would give a little more consideration on how well the appointee can perform the job. But as is typical with a lot of those under W, most are incompetent and got their jobs from just knowing someone, many times to the detriment of said department's supposed customers.
September 17, 2006
We won both our matches yesterday, and although I was happy to play a full 80-minute match - it was on opposing team's side. Because they were short on players, I played a position that I normally don't do called 'flanker', and had to do some lineouts. Since I hadn't done many, on the way down from being lifted into the air I neglected to bend my knees upon landing to absorb the shock of impact, and jarred something in my back. It's the same place I always throw it out, and although it's not a full muscle spasm, it's certainly sore today. I hope to get some good crack from the doctor tomorrow. Then in our 2nd match I played a half in a position I had never played before called 'flyhalf' which I did pretty well because the position requires that I be bossy. Anyhow, the formerly 'evil' team has been upgraded to 'OK' in my book, as they were nice to play with, didn't hurt that we beat both teams as well.
The social afterwards was fun but I had to leave when the fun started, as apparently someone puked and I didn't get to see it. I went home to enter my usual post-match rugby-induced coma and rest up for Blowoff. I would not have woken up if someone hadn't called at 9pm, I was so pooped.
Blowoff was a hoot and the usual suspects were out and about and I danced with many woofers. With the closings of several bars in town the venue is attracting some new and different refugee crowds, not all of whom were civil to each other. It's been almost 15 years since I've seen public displays of domestic violence among same-sex couples, and last night I saw two. Near the front door a tall guy was kneeing his partner in the crotch multiple times with a look of pure hatred on his face. His partner barely resisted, but then was able to break loose to go outside. The aggressive one followed him out and continued to wail on him. A doorman went outside to break it up. Not 10 minutes later on the dance floor near the DJ booth, I saw another guy go for someone else. His female friend was trying to break it up, and they all dispersed.
The images from both instances kinda troubled me and put me in a weird headspace for the evening and through today. Getting hit by a guy during a rugby match is one thing, as we shake hands and have a beer afterwards. But domestic violence is another thing...the look on these guy's faces was disturbing. I guess I burn my aggression on the rugby pitch, and save my lovin' for another man, and have a hard time conceiving that you could do that to someone you purport to love. Or that the guy on the receiving end of the beatings could stick around to take it. A person who beats you or abuses you in any way is never worth being with, and the need to be in a relationship is never greater than allowing this abuse.
September 15, 2006
There be a Blowoff this Saturday in the upstairs area of the 9:30 Club. Unless I'm mortally injured in the match on Saturday I'll be there.
We have home matches against the evil low-down PAC "C" and the Philly Gryphons. Kickoff for PAC "C" is Noon at Colmar Manor Park. Kickoff against the Gryphons follows immediately after the PAC "C" match finishes.
There's just a fetish for everything now, isn't there? Whips and furries are just old hat.
From today's Washington Blade:
I guess I can attest to the first item, but can only dream of actually feeding a sex addiction.
Children are scary. If I were straight and a potential sex addict, the threat of bearing children would keep me from getting too wild. I believe children are type of STD.
Nice coverage of the Washington, DC Metropolitan Police Department's Gay and Lesbian Liason Unit in the AP newswire. Brett Parson works very hard in this town.
I believe that Whitney Houston's [first set] of dentures are the Holy Grail of modern times. He who finds her lost dentures will unite mankind in peace and harmony.
No, you're still not 'masc'. Sorry.
Holy shit...a complete list of all the known dragons accounted for in the land of Faerûn, in case you were wondering. It's available in PDF, Exel and Word as well!
September 14, 2006
so fly it hurts
I got my hair did on Wednesday, a fade to stay cool:
I'm so fly it hurts.
September 13, 2006
lust du jour
I don't watch NASCAR racing and such, but Paul Menard, age 24, of Dale Earnhardt, Jr. racing is pretty wurfy:
It is good to see Wisconsin's Dick Trickle is still remembered though. I recall seeing him race at the LaCrosse International Speedway when I was a wee jimbo.
September 12, 2006
I've, like, totally sold out
Well folks, it seems like I've sold out, I'm on the way out, I'm a little too commercial for some people's tastes, I've betrayed my reader base, I'm just so fucking tacky, and I'm apparently just a shameless putz who is trying to pull the wool over your eyes.
How have I done this to you, you may ask? Well, Mr. Brian Bolding (comments limited to Livejournal users only, fyi) seems to think that posting holiday season wish lists (from like 1 and 2 years ago) is a crime worthy of banning me from official hipdom for life. I'll never see my words in an "underground 'zine". Please pardon the tired '90s term - his words, not mine.
I'll admit, I may have sold out years ago when I revealed my blog to my family and friends, for which the holiday wish lists were for. No, I wasn't asking my readership to buy me a $500 Dyson vacuum cleaner, and didn't really expect one from my family either. But they read this blog and I'd like to use it for that purpose, and to allow them to keep up on my life. I don't write this thing to be 'underground' and I don't strive to be put in some kind of alterna-'zine. I never have. This blog is about me and it is for my purposes, first because I have a shitty memory and because like to document things in my life, and then because I meet lots of people who read the blog, and it's been interesting in that respect.
As for the donation button, some people have actually asked to donate from time to time. I put it up years ago when I was unemployed and my computer was dying. The donations from that time and what has trickled in since then have not come close to paying for a computer, but it certainly helped during some hard times in my life. And a lot of daily readers are happy to donate, but I certainly don't demand anything but civil commentary.
I think I'll put up a flashing marketing ad just to piss Mr. Brian Bolding off today. I am so sold out.
September 11, 2006
fires and fear
Any debate about letting my hair grow out was dispelled this weekend at our first rugby match of the season, played on a typical humid Mid-Atlantic day. It's still too frikkin' hot for any kind of fur or hair, especially when this Cymbalta I'm taking makes me sweat at any temperatures above 60-degrees Farenheit. I could be Mr. Freeze's personal assistant, wear a nice suit and tie in his office freezer and not be phased at all. On Friday while we were watching Stargate, I got up to use Gurl's computer, and happened to point my ass in her face, to which she responded, "Aaaah! Your ass is radiating heat!" My ass is hot. Literally. Anyway, I'm gettin' a buzzcut this week for the rugby season to stay cool. Grrrr.
Oh, and we won! It was a close match but well played. The other team was very nice and fed us well after the match too. It didn't hurt that the majority of them were woofy. This coming weekend the Philly gay team comes down to play, and we will be playing our evil arch-enemies from DC, a humorless Borg-like team whom everyone wants us to beat. We want to beat them badly too. Come watch!
My anaerobic recovery rate is not what it was at the end of spring of course. The first match of the season is always a shock. When I got home from the match I was in bed by 10pm on a Saturday night, not stirring from my rugby-induced coma until 10am the next day. Grampaw needs his regenerative sleep. I must continue to run with Piranha Sean as much as I can. The secondary benefit of running has been that I'm trimming down, and even got a nice compliment from a straight male coworker! While I like some beef on a guy, I don't think I hold it as well as some people do, so I prefer to remain trim.
Today is an ominous day I suppose, but I'm torn between wanting me and the American public to move on, and to make sure we do remember that day, but not be dominated by it either. Fear has been the driving force in a lot of decisions since then, not all of them helpful or beneficial to this country. Those in power have been wielding fear deftly like master illusionists, raising spectres that have little to do with what hurt us on that day. My only hope on this day is that people will learn to ask questions, see through the smoke and mirrors, and through the dust clouds of destruction. We got caught with our pants down once, and now we understand what other countries have to deal with on a regular basis. But we are now more vigilant. But we cannot walk through every day thinking that a plane or chemical attack will hit us at any moment. We can't live that way for long and still remain what makes us special as a nation.
I was working at National Airport at that time, not far from the Pentagon. The shock of that day didn't start to sink in until the following day:
It's after lunch and now my lack of sleep is starting to hit me. I think I finally went to bed around 2am, and then woke up when Bobby had to go to work at 5. I can usually go back to sleep, but I was too wired, and remained so for the rest of the morning. When I got up, I walked the dog and was remarkably fastidious, even though the cleaner was coming.
The Pentagon was still smoking this morning as I crossed over the Potomac from DC into Virginia on the Metro into work. When I went outside for lunch at National airport, I realized the usual background hum of jet engines was absent. I could hear birds and the metro cars from far away.
September 8, 2006
many more gay thoughts
There's a great piece in this week's MetroWeekly about the integrity of the gay social movement. I really question whether we can present a sole unified voice for our cause (which/what cause?), but the idea is nice. But we're just a wildly diverse group of disparate people with only one thing in common - our sexuality - which is where the comparisons with the black civil rights movement ends. While they had religion, race and culture in common, we don't have such binds that tie, because we are many races, colors and cultures. But when push comes to shove the sole commonality might be enough some day to establish unity, if the threat is high enough.
That and many of us fancy ourselves as hardcore critics of all things, as in the infamous Duplex Diner/Abercrombie Wars on Craigslist between the gay DC young and old. It seems like every queen thinks he's either Rex Reed or Heidi Klum, or some love child thereof. With so much judgement and so little humility, there's no energy left to work on battling outside forces.
In regards to last week's blog entry about the P-town crowd and HIV, I think one commenter was able to summarize my thoughts in one sentence when I couldn't:
"...many gay men are too blasé about HIV infection..."
That's what was bugging me about what I was seeing in Provincetown and in the online and 'leather community'. No one seems to give a shit about contracting HIV anymore. Another commenter did account for his infection as a result of a mistake, but that's an exception rather than the rule, and it's still highly preventable. But some would argue that HIV is now a manageable disease like diabetes. But if diabetes were a communicable disease, and you could prevent yourself from having to monitor your glucose and take insulin the rest of your life, would you? I don't feel any different about HIV. I was only called out on my opinions in one instance, being told I was being judgemental and that it was foolish to think I could "plan" on remaining HIV-. Yep, I do plan on it, however foolish that may seem to some people. You see, there is one act that I don't do, and don't plan on doing it again, thus my 'plan' on remaining HIV-.
Now that I am over my post-vacation blues and back into my typical DC-induced celibacy, I still must wonder why the aura of desperation returns due to locale. For you see, here's the breakdown of social interactions in DC vs. Provincetown:
Approach attractive stranger in Provincetown: we immediately start flirting and then have hot sex.
Approach DC resident in Provincetown: we have a long, pleasant and engaging conversation.
Approach person with Dreamy Ron in tow in either Provincetown or DC: person ignores Jimbo & stares at Dreamy Ron's pecs.
Approach known DC resident in DC: resident gives brief, civil response, then starts talking about real estate.
Approach unknown attractive DC resident in DC: resident looks startled, then flees from jimbo.
Now this can be easily attributable to the vacation syndrome, where people have a more open mind and are in a good mood and are open to socialization. It may be attributable to my own attitude and approach as well. Maybe being single in DC for a year has beaten the confidence out of me and it shows. Or maybe I've been living here for too long and people see me and think "Oh, it's her again." Regardless, the difference in reactions by locale is tangible.
On a somewhat unrelated note, here's my Vermont mancrush Jason, rockin' the whole Jim Palmer Jockey ad look better than it was done before. I don't have a tightie whitey fetish, but I'm gettin' close...
September 7, 2006
OK, I need a wig. I have a ratty old one that is losing more hair than Glenn and Mark combined, but I want BIG FUCKING DRAG QUEEN HAIR this year when I run the 17th Street High Heel Race on October 24th (always the Tuesday before Halloween). I have a pair of hot red stretchy Capri pants, and a Texas belt buckle, so I think I'll get a white blouse and go as Texas Trash.
So anyway, a big blonde or big red wig would be nice. I can borrow it or buy it off you, or if you just want to be rid of it, e-mail me at: Jimbo3DC@aol.com.
I will reward you with pictures of me in said wig.
September 6, 2006
'tranny bass' crisis in the Potomac
Scientists say abnormal "intersex" fish, with both male and female characteristics, have been discovered in the Potomac River and its tributaries across the Capitol Region, raising questions about how contaminants are affecting millions of people who drink tap water there.This might explain my new vagina and milk-producing 'moobs'.
For more information on changing public attitudes and raising public awareness of discrimination and violence caused by gender stereotypes, visit the GenderPac website.
September 5, 2006
Ariel, Thundarr and Ookla respond to the George Allen Incident
|OMG somebody just called me a 'macaca'.|
|Lords of Light! That's totally racist!|
|No. Sorry Ookla, you're no macaca, you're just a mutant freak.|
|But I think Ariel is actually a 'Quadroon'.|
September 4, 2006
In the words of Piranha Sean, this stingray 'Rolled a 20'. Deaths by stingray barb attacks are rare, and a direct hit to the heart rarer still. Rays are fairly peaceful unless provoked. I think the animal world was striking back from being pestered so much.
Today I went to see Another Gay Movie with the gurls, which was raunchy and silly and good for some gut laughs. It's pretty much a gay version of American Pie, where 4 guys are bound and determined to have anal sex before the summer is over. Hilarity ensues, with lots of penis and butt gags.
I also saw 'The New World' with that scruffy Irish guy in it. The cinematography was awesome, and the film was quite a trip. It was filmed using only natural light. Gurl pointed out that while Massachusetts was founded by religious fanatics and Virginia by merchantile interests, the opposite seems to be true today.
The hurricane came and went with a nice 24-hours' worth of light rain and crazy wind. It was fun, but little damage in the city except for some rotten trees that fell. Hurricanes are something I like about living here in DC. I find hurricane weather really exciting.
I went to my first college football game on Saturday. It was festive...with pyrotechnics! 'We' won. American football is a lot like rugby, but there's a lot of standing around, time outs and general laziness. Rugby is harder. Football players are pampered.
OMG DJ TM was lots of fun until the house got packed. DJ played lots of Old Skool. I didn't make it to Prince vs. Madonna at the Black Cat as I had just finished a huge meal and when I saw the line stretching down the block I knew I wasn't up for it, so I played City of Heroes until 4am. Hawt. I cannot get 'Look on the Floor' by Bananarama out of my head today.
September 2, 2006
September 1, 2006
pictures from the no-'tude tubing trip
Here's us squealing like little girls as we hit some rapids:
Burl and Nick:
Eric and Tos moments before I embarassed Eric with compliments:
More Eric and Tos:
Piranhas are chewing on Sean, making him panic in the water, as Nick laughs:
Carl looks like a cute little duckie in this picture:
TJ looks HOT in his personal flotation device. Nice chest fur too:
More pictures here and here. Have a good Labor Day weekend!