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January 31, 2007

A blonde walks into her first day of class...

So I register for my grad school class in Management and Organizational Theory, eagerly await for the syllabus and most importantly the course materials list of books that I need to come out, order them cheap online and smugly picked them up before the first day of class. I even read some of it during the day.

It's a night class held in 1238 Bio/Psych building from 7 to 10pm (according to the class messages in the online forum), class is all right, the instructor is fun, and there's even a hottie in my class. But then I notice something is wrong about 2 hours into it...my texts, while similar in title, do not match what the others are pulling out of their bags. I notice the syllabus he hands out is different than the other one I printed out from online. Then I get home and check and find out the instructor is not who was in class today, even though the time and place were correct. Am I insane or did I just go to the wrong room? Even the online class roster of students is different than those I met in class - since even the hottie's name that I memorized in class was not listed in the online class roster.

An e-mail to both instructors should sort it out...but I'm a very confused blonde right now. But I think I went to the wrong classroom or something...

UPDATE: Early-onset Altzheimer's or an alternate dimension is currently the best explaination of what happened last night.

Note to new drivers on any given campus in the area: You see those thick, white stripes on the road? That's where we get to walk and you have to stop.

Posted by jimbo at 10:40 PM | Comments (3)

January 30, 2007

Belinda is Back, on 2/2 in NYC

OMG Belinda's Back! B E L I N D A . _SoLo_ OMG.

Belinda is not ready to be put down, but today over bubble tea I asked my evil veterinarian friend Skip why, in this day and age, do we need to "put the horse down" and he explained something to me that I thought was very interesting. Physics and the delicacy of the equine skeletal structure aside, unlike humans, horses exhibit their general quality of health in their hooves, while we exhibit stresses to our body in the form of heart and lung complications. Horses rarely have heart problems, but apparently when their hooves are a mess it is an indicator that their bodies are shutting down as well.

Archaeologists have found the first trailer park located adjacent to an amusement park. Now I want them to find out who was the only gay in said village?

Posted by jimbo at 3:41 PM | Comments (1)

January 29, 2007

the doldrum's depths, SuperJennifer Dance Party 3000

On days like today it's hard to think of something to blog about, much less go to work. The past two months I've been withdrawn, moody, and elated at the same time. It's the seasonal blues I get this time of year, only perceptable when I come out of a funk and look back at how I was feeling. But you can't detect when you're in the bottom of a funk until you get out of it. Hard to get out of my warm comfy bed, hard to get to the gym. The depression meds have helped moderate things a bit, but even the drugs and happy lights aren't strong enough to mask all of it.

So I am glad I listened to my friend Steve (at right) when he said, "Schedule this vacation now, before you're too depressed to do it later!" And he was right. I had the foresight to schedule a trip to Costa Rica for a week in February, and I can't wait. Look for the fishbelly white spot on the Google world map when I get there. Flights to Tucson are always relatively cheap too, and I have a week off for spring break in March. We'll see how batty I'm feeling by then.

yep, my type indeedHomer asks: "Do you have a type?". Predictably, yes, so much so that close friends know how to pick 'em for me quite accurately. Personality and intellect is just as important, but it's hard to get the physical and mental to join up in one person, especially in clean-cut and conformist DC. I've really, really tried to go outside of type in the past year, and have had some really nice dates and opportunities, but I just can't beat the beast who gets his crank turned by some fur and rugged looks. Like a Rice Queen so entrenched in his Asians that he sees nothing else, I'm admittedly just as shallow in my need for fur and woof. I've tried to fight it but I think I just have to be honest with myself that it is what I like. There have been exceptions of course, but they are rare, and I'm not counting out being surprised one day by falling in love with a smooth spindly wisp of a thing. Another determinant is that I think I like the outsider type of guys, ones who don't always swim with the school. A bit freaky but able to associate with other people, but definitely has his opinions about things. And again, looking like the man to the left or Mike Rowe wouldn't hurt a bit.

I was on my best behavior Friday evening for Sqwurl's birthday dinner. I warned him in advance that Lauriol Plaza would be packed on a Friday evening, but even my most jaded predictions about how packed it would be were surpassed as it was a wall-to-wall Super-Jennifer* Dance Party 3000, none of them yet seated, most of them drunk and screechy. Deep inside I was gnashing but on the outside I was all smiles, and surprised at my ability to present such a front. Well, maybe my eyes were bugging out a bit. Someone wisely suggested that a restaurant east of 14th Street would be Jennifer-free, as they fear to tread there, and it was generally true. But there was still a 2-hour wait, made easier by the strongest margaritas I've ever had, hands-down, not even in Mexico have they been stronger. So by the time we were seated I was absolutely wasted. Then the Mexican food plus all the citrusy margarita mix gave me some bad acid indigestion that plagued me all night. Needless to say nothing much got done this weekend as I recovered and rested in my warm basement.

*A Jennifer: A rude, obnoxious, usually monied or spoiled female child of the upper middle class or upper class, who haunts city nightlife. Always seen with body-bag sized handbags and a propensity for inherited Botox face. Can't walk in heels, yet aspires to stilettos. The Bush Twins are Jennifers. Jennifers do not go to my gym, they go up north; the women at my gym could break a Jennifer by poking her with a celery stick, or that 20 lb. dumbbell. Wikipedia 'Jennifer' entry by Carl.

Posted by jimbo at 4:46 PM | Comments (5)

January 26, 2007

Isaiah Washington is dumb, but forgivable

I guess the local rise in crime wasn't just a random observation on my part. People have been getting mugged on T and 14th street a lot lately, our packages going missing (including my birthday care package from mom!) and even murder. The queens are not amused, and we are have begun to marshall our forces. Beware the power of nonbreeding drones of the hive! Like Nikita once said: "We will bury you..."

Kylie Minogue + Scissor Sisters = White Diamond, performed live from the Showgirl tour. OMG KYLIE.

Friday Night TV Pick: Scary 'God Warrior' Marguerite Perrin returns to Trading Spouses at 9pm on Fox tonight.

Here's a documentary about a local DC/Baltimore L.A.R.P. (Live-Action Role-Playing) group. And you thought I was a big 'ol geek.

I think I'll pass on a backpacking trip to Anthrax Isle. But it sounds like a great D&D module adventure title.

I think this whole Isaiah Washington gay slur thing is a bit creepy. Really, the guy is an idiot for using the f-word in Hollywood - he's made his own career grave saying that stuff. But does he really need to go to some gay rehab for saying what he said? Sometimes people say things in the heat of the moment and don't always mean what they say. He and other people (Eddie Murphy, etc.) need to get a little slack sometimes. People make mistakes, people are young and say dumb things, then people change, and people need to be forgiven. People have a hard time forgiving even themselves sometimes. I think The Gay spend waaay too much energy holding anger against whomever was a douche bag in the past. Much too often I hear the same thing, "HARRR! I won't read/watch/listen to 'X' person because of 'Y' crime to the gays in 19XX-20XX." Even when it's been like 10 years since that person said 'Z' phrase and has changed and grown significantly.

Many people have come to me asking, "Jimbo: what do you think of men's leggings?" (Because I'm apparently officially a drag queen now). And I stare back at them, confused. Of course they will be worn by the dandies about town by this summer. But I already wear them now. And I have a question about proper use of leggings and tights: so like if I'm running or mountain biking and am wearing my running tights or biking tights with snuggly padding where it counts, and then have to go grocery shopping after that, is it appropriate for me to be shining my package in the produce department of Whole Foods, or should I slip a pair of shorts over my bulge? I'm always a little bit self-conscious when I do that.

After a rugby match I also like to slip off my rugby shorts and cool my balls off, even though i'm still wearing my compression shorts which keep my balls in place. Is it OK to do that around teammates' family and kids? Are compression shorts more like undergarments or shorts in this instance? I also love my short running shorts even though it is most customary to wear baggy basketball-style shorts in the United States of 'Merca. But I don't like basketball and I don't like running in those long basketball shorts. I prefer my short-shorts even though they make me look like a dork. But my junk sure stands out in them. I think running in those stupid long basketball shorts defeats the purpose, and the cause unnecessary chafing.

That is all. Have a nice weekend.

Posted by jimbo at 11:45 AM | Comments (15)

January 25, 2007

a walk downtown with jimbo

Today I went to get my teeth examined and cleaned, and from the 4th floor dental office window I spotted Stebbins going to work right before Xena, my dental hygenist, started to shove sharp objects into my mouth. After that I got my eyes examined across the street from the Old Executive Office Building, kinda near the White House where George W. Douchebag creates gas, debt, paranoia, permanently maimed and dead Americans and Iraqis, and broken promises. Oh, my vision is 20/20 and my teeth are clean, plaque- and gingivitis-free, by the way! I am ready for resale.

Click on the photo below and enlarge the image...can you spot the terrorist (or window cleaner) on this edifice, the Old Executive Office Building?
Old Executive Office Building
I don't know where the hot cycle cops were, so I only got a picture of thier retro bikes. This photo was taken right by the White House, where that piece of shit douche bag from Texas lives and "works".
White House Guardians
An old Beaverhausen told me that this is the Renwick Gallery. I have never been in there in the 10 years I've lived in DC.
This is my favorite place to get coffee in DC, hands-down. In fact I think I'm going to start writing blog entries about non-franchise institutions in DC that I like to frequent that deserve more credit (and business) than they get.
M.E. Swing Co.
M.E. Swing Co. (or "Swing's") coffee roasters have been in business since 1916, and are located at 1702 G Street, NW, Washington, DC 20006.

The service at Swing's is friendlier, faster, and tastier than Starbucks'. For some reason the employees always seem to be perky. If you look closely at the photo below, you'll see the proprietor to the left, busy doing accounting like she always does in the morning.
M.E. Swing, Co.
Again, the service at Swing's is fast and friendly. I like the deco interiors too. I never leave Swing's feeling like I interrupted someone's mental break or that I have disturbed the barristae.

Posted by jimbo at 8:31 AM | Comments (9)

January 24, 2007

"I choose to surround myself with a vision of God's creation."

"We don't have to imagine. We project. We choose to see our environment in any form we wish, whenever we wish. For instance, right now you see us as standing in a hallway, but I see it as a forest. Filled with trees, birds, sunlight. The aesthetic is what gives me pleasure. Not the specific memories. Instead of staring at blank walls, I choose to surround myself with a vision of God's creation." - Caprica Six
Seriously though, while I'm not one of the last 5 Cylons, I did receive my first shipment of aquarium fish by post rather than going to the pet store. All 24 fish arrived intact and healthy - I love the Internets because I hate shopping and having to drive to the frikkin' 'burbs to find decent fish.

Half of the fish shown above will be going to my aquarium at home.

I spoke with Mom on the phone last night, who had to critique my spelling on this here blog: "You spell 'wierd' and 'beleive' wrong!"

Yes, mother. I have a problem with the whole 'ie' thing.

Some of you have noticed that I occasionally post blog entries a day ahead of time, or sometimes to the past. You see, once you've achieved 12th level in the Blogger character class, you can post blog entries forward and backward in time. At 14th level I get to bend reality with my blog posts, rather than just bitch about reality. At 16th level I achieve oneness with the Internets and can stalk all my blog readers personally via ethernet connection.

This is basically what I do at work:

Posted by jimbo at 9:07 AM | Comments (6)

January 23, 2007

more annoying camp songs

My brief summary and critique of Pan's Labyrinth is up over on Queer Beacon. I thought it was a good film.

Here's a song we had the younger kids wiggling to during my environmental education practicum training at a Central Wisconsin environmental station when I was in college:

13-lined ground squirrel "Ground squirrel, ground squirrel,
shake your bushy tail.
Ground squirrel, ground squirrel,
shake your bushy tail.

Wrinkle up your little nose!
Put a nut between your toes!
Ground squirrel, ground squirrel,
shake your bushy tail."

There's choreography with that song too, but I'll wait until I see you at Halo some night when I'm drunk, and I'll do it for you in front of your friends, then claim loudly that you and I tricked the night before. Or I gotta start documenting these songs on YouTube or something.

It's all about me implanting annoying songs into your brain this week. I'm feeling unusually cruel. Here's one submitted from Jocko:

Oh there was a little birdy with a belly full of poop
and he climbed up a telephone pole
he stretched out his neck
and he pooped about a peck
and he buttoned up his little poopy hole....

Posted by jimbo at 8:16 AM | Comments (3)

January 22, 2007

The Little Bird Song, by Jimbo

This is a song that I learned as a camp counselor (and camper!) at bible camp in Wisconsin. It is useful in getting kids aged K-6 ethusiastic and charged up for the day! For children beyond those grade levels it is irritating, and for non-morning adults it is the ULTIMATE REVENGE FOR ANYTHING! Learn it, and learn it well:

Waaay up in the sky, (arms straight up, hands open!)
the little birds fly. (arms akimbo, hands like wings!)
While down in the nest (arms down, make hands into cup)
the little birds rest. (palms together to one side of face, sleepy-style, close your eyes.)

With a wing on the left (left arm chicken wing, flap flap!)
and a wing on the right, (right arm chicken wing, flap flap!)
the little birds sleep (palms together to one side of face, sleepy-style, close your eyes.)
all through the night. (still sleeping! decrescendo this line to silence...)

(several beats of silence, make them think they can go back to sleep, then...)

THE BRIGHT SUN COMES UP! (arms straight up, hands open, say it loud!)
THE DEW GOES AWAY! (palms down, down goes the rain!)
"GOOD MORNING, GOOD MORNING!" (arms straight up, hands open, up and down!)
THE LITTLE BIRDS SAY! (hands making bird mouths saying the words!)


Posted by jimbo at 8:08 AM | Comments (13)

January 21, 2007

a view from my barred bathroom window

Snow Day!
While not a lot of this light snow is accumulating in DC, I hope it is building up outside The District so we have a snow day tomorrow! The green stuff is my iris plants growing out of my 'pond', the Cat Factory is in the background, and can you spot the horseshoe in the photo?

I ventured out to Remington's for my first post-smoking ban trip to a bar, and it was wonderful. Some of my rugger friends met some of my bloggeratti friends and I am struck yet again at how my circles rarely meet. Matt from rugby was like, "Who's Skwurl?" and Skwurl was like "OMG like who's Matt?" Anyhow, I didn't have to take a shower when I got home, and my eyes weren't burning from smoke. It was lovely. And despite the very cold temperatures outside, The Others still huddled outside to smoke! I just don't get it.

Breeders gone wild: parents reject escalation, form organization, over birthday party extravagances. WTF? I was happy go have a roller skating party at the local roller rink with popcorn. But limos for 6 year-olds? If you think homosexuality is ruining your children, go check yourself and get back to me when your kids are 16 year-old and spoiled rotten to the core. It's bad enough that you're going crazy over high-class birthday parties for your preemie, but you have time to form a club about it? Priorities, people. I can't wait until that generation meets the Gen-X managers in the workplace. I predict a lot of entitlement issues with employees and their managers in 20 years. The self-sufficiency of the latch-key generation versus kids who have been showered with everything they want since childbirty.

I wish Old Spice really did this.

The film, Black Sheep, looks like it might be even better than Snakes on a Plane:

I am giddy with excitement about this film. I'll fly across the pond to see it if it doesn't make it to the U.S.

Posted by jimbo at 4:03 PM | Comments (6)

January 20, 2007

dammit, people!

- Dammit, people - if you're vomiting and have diahrrea, don't come into work (they were later hospitalized for dehydration). You might just have the Noro Virus and your baby-boomer work ethic just got everyone else at work sick too. Since you have 14 days of unused sick leave, don't you think you could afford to stay at home? The cogs will continue to click and whirr while you're gone, and the earth will not stop spinning if you recuperate at home. Do you think your work ethic will be recognized when you bring the bird flu into work and share it with everyone?

- Dammit, people - a 10-minute sleet "storm" that melts when it hits the pavement does not fall into the "red alert" urban emergency category. Chill out, and again, just stay home if it's snowing. Ever heard of telecommuting? Stay home and make a nice soup, bake bread or a batch of toll house cookies. And while I'm on the subject, how is it that I get more accurate weather outlooks from gay weather enthusiasts than I do from StormCenter 7? The answer is because the gay weather freak is more interested in the weather than reporting sensational news, which in turn gains more viewership.

- Dammit, people - don't think your ammunition, police radio, bullet-resistant vests, body armor and photography equipment is safe when locked in your car in DC. Aren't you supposed to check that equipment in at night? Now your stuff is on the streets in the trigger-happy hands of street burglars. Again, this isn't Sterling or Fairfax.

- Dammit, people - this ridiculous body hair trimming and eyebrow sculpting thing is out of control. How much time did you spend on that topiary? Let it grow natural and beautiful like a grand oak, not like a boxwood hedge.

Posted by jimbo at 1:20 PM | Comments (7)

January 19, 2007

Frikkin' Friday Post

So Jocko says my cranky posts are the best ones, and he's kinda right as my deep, mellow, introspective ones get very few comments. Maybe they're too long for goverment employees to read quickly enough while they're goofing around at work. Anyway, you think I'm cranky? You should read my oldest brother's blog and you'll understand that it might run in the family.

So I'm Bloggeratti then? Listen, cupcakes: I've been doin' this crap long before people like Mr. Towle even learned how to operate a PC, before there was a word for it. Back inna day blogging was done by exhibitionist tech geeks who were experimenting with a new toy during the creative days of the dot-com rise and fall. Then it became a tool for journalists, then it became "popular" and something much different than it was. I've just been keepin' it real and doing my thing since then, but I do not percieve myself as part of some kind of elite group. I do not strive for that kind of status. I don't need a group identity to know I'm awesome.
>; )
I am sad (and so is Charlene) that Sgt. Brett Parson is leaving the Gay and Lesbian Liason Unit of the MPD. He's going back to patrol the streets. I guess it's a good thing, since we need competent law enforcement officers on the street since the dumb-ass FBI agents think they can leave their high-performance artillery in locked vehicles thinking it's secure ("But we can do that where I live in Sterling! Why not here?") Great - now a bunch of street kids have MORE semi-automatics in DC. But maybe that'll help the real estate market go down even more so home ownership in The District is a bit more realistic for people of middle income. You always have to look at the bright side of things.

Old Skool Dungeons and Dragons book covers. Like Keep On the Borderlands old skool.

A few weeks ago I was out with some more recently made friendships, and a couple people seemed surprised when I mentioned that I had a partner for about 3 years not all that long ago. Do I play the role of swinging bachelor so well that you would be surprised that I'm capable of a relationship? Yes, it is possible for jimbo to be in a relationship, but luck and chemistry haven't been in the stars lately. That and I realized last weekend at Blowoff that the majority of gay males aren't as furry as I'd like them to be. So I guess I'm kinda picky too, but if I learned anything from the relationship I was in is that you a.) have to get along; and b.) you have to be picky. This isn't like shopping for a toaster or as easy as having a cat. Plus I'm not one to shack up just for the sake of security, propriety or keeping up an appearance of some sort. And I have to note that my partnership status is not for lack of really good dates/dating lately. Anyhow, I walked away from that interaction a few weeks ago thinking, "Why the fuck don't you think I'd be relationship material?" I'm not gonna settle for the sake of propriety or for financial purposes, to me it is about companionship, and to date I haven't found the right companion. Until then I will maintain my status as 'single'.

Posted by jimbo at 12:10 PM | Comments (6)

January 18, 2007

the buffet tables of life

After seeing this offensive website, now I want to go! Stop Gay Days at Disney! I love her.

Looking at those 'offensive' pics made me laugh. It just looks like everyone is having a good time to me. Not to say I wouldn't ever join them, but I think I've left most of my shirtless-on-the-dance-floor-every-weekend times behind me. I just don't value that aspect of gay life as much as I used to, and I'm not alone in my choice to explore other options in gay life. An interesting piece from Citizen Crain about a small movement in the gay community that encourages improvement or changes to our choices and quality of life.

I think there are values, attitudes and beliefs we have from our upbringing and background, and new values we can choose to adopt or discard upon coming out into this new community. It needs to be looked at like a transition from one culture to another. Not all of the old beliefs should be kept, but not all of the new ones are good for you either. But more often than necessary, the baby gets thrown out with the bathwater somewhere in the exchange of these values.

I use the analogy of a buffet. There's the buffet table over there that we used to eat from, and a new fantastic buffet table here filled with a variety of foods - some of them sugary and rich, but won't agree with you in the morning. However, some of the new dishes are good for you too.

But it's still a buffet, and nobody's forced to eat every dish at the new table. But the ones who think they have to eat exclusively at the new buffet table are the ones who end up unhappy. I think that's where "bitter queens" come from. They're too invested in so many things that have no meaning to them, and they think it's too late to recoup some of the things they used to be.

It took me a while to discover that I enjoyed some of the things I used to do before I came out, and that not everything in the gay community needed to be embraced. I'd hope to think that's where balance and happiness is found for gay men.

It's been pointed out to me that I often overuse analogies so much that friends have coined the word 'jimboism' when someone goes too far with an analogy. Here's a classic jimboism used by one lawmaker on the floor of the U.S. Capitol.

Posted by jimbo at 9:42 AM | Comments (10)

January 17, 2007

mapping "the gay gene"

the gay gene and nearby gene markers

closeup of the gay geneOnce again I'm struck by the realization that I'm surrounded by attention-deficit disordered queens. MW-S (Michael William-Scott) isn't the first and probably won't be the last (in the past year I've met at least 3), but I'm convinced that the part of our genome that makes us gay is neighbored by the genes that make little baby gay weathermen and gay-D.D. queens. Nearby are the chromosome sequences that make people deaf (why are there so many deaf gays?), movie critics and fans of Madonna, Babs and Britney. My Gene Queen friend Matt may concur. Mark my words, one day they will find that the gay gene is near the A.D.D. and weather sense gene. My theory is that when and if the gay gene is turned 'on' and flipped in reverse (bottom) on the gene squence of our genome, accompanying gene sequences may be activated as well, or vice verse.

Illustrations are provided in Figures 1 and 2.

Posted by jimbo at 8:36 AM | Comments (6)

January 16, 2007

some guy at the gym tonight had a bleeding nipple

Well my new $80 alarm clock works just as good as my ancient one, as I ignore it just as efficiently the old one. Although I did enjoy waking up to a song chosen the previous evening, but then in my awakening state I somehow figured out how to shut it off, even though I had a tech Skwurl put it together and I have no idea how to make it not go off at 6am. But I might figure it out by this weekend.

So if I see a guy at the gym wearing a white polyester polo shirt and I see a fresh bloodstain spreading from where his nipple should be, should I say something to him? "Umm...excuse me, but your nipple got ripped off..." Miss Manners was truly perplexed and could find no words for such an event. Which crime is worse, the bleeding or the polo shirt? At least his collar wasn't popped.

Winter returned with a vengance today, and with it the super-dry air, which made my clean-shaven face all tight and dry. Part of what made me shave it was the balmy weekend weather, and it felt warm on my face. But beards keep your face cozy and moisturized too, so it's gotta come back. Plus even my coworkers complained about the clean-shaven look. Allright already!

Work Safe: from scruffy Chris who likes scruffy Ryan Gosling. I concur.

Not Work Safe: Jew Lust, the blog. I prefer my Israelis a little older, I think. And the Hairy Blokes blog. I like Leandro Dotto best with his furry butt. But most of the guys on it aren't that hairy by my standards.

This one, on the right, is just right. Wuuuuuf.

Posted by jimbo at 11:06 PM | Comments (5)

January 15, 2007

Falcon Studios presents...

...Brent Silver!
porntastic 'stache
No, I'm not gonna keep it, nor the fu either. In fact, a fu is a pain in the ass to trim around, and while it got a lot of compliments, I'm slow enough as it is in the morning than to be trimming and shaving around a fu all morning.

I had a good weekend although I had to subdue myself as the sinus infection was slowing me down. I'm feeling a lot better though. Blowoff on Saturday night was a hoot, although I didn't end up going to the Sunday night dance as I was tuckered out from the previous night's fun.

Posted by jimbo at 8:21 PM | Comments (20)

January 14, 2007

fuck'n cheese curds

This evening someone brought a bag of fuck'n* cheese curds straight outta Wisconsin to mah pre-Blowoff cocktail gathering. The guests were afraid. They did not partake. When I came home from Blowoff, I ate the entire remainder of the fuck'n bag 'o cheese curds, trucker-style. Mmmm...cheese curds and Krispy Kreme...soooo delicious.
no jaunty hats!
Yeah, Krispy Kreme and cheese curds, that's what MAL is to me.

I got my groove on and was dancing. Some fuck'n retard was fuck'n text messaging next to me ON THE FUCK'N DANCE FLOOR. Text messaging on the dance floor is no less irritating than smoking on the dance floor. So I tried out a new line to end such foolishness: "HEY! IS THE WORD 'BUZZKILL' ONE WORD OR TWO WORDS?" And he stopped text messaging. Enjoy the moment, here and now, not somewhere else. If they are not here they're clearly not where it's at and it's their problem, not ours.

(*This drunk post brought to you by Maker's Mark brand whiskey.)

Posted by jimbo at 6:14 PM | Comments (16)

a rugged-looking bunch

Here's Daddy TJ ordering everyone to purse their lips, but Tos can't purse his lips, but Steve and Jason are trying hard:

Much woofage was in my house last evening, including Daywalker Woof, Skinhead Woof, Mr. MAL Woof, and Mr. Bartender Woof:
From right to left: Lumberjack Woof, Copperred Woof, ClickBoo Woof, Mrs. Durban Woof, Mr. Bartender Woof, and again, Daywalker Woof:
Discussing the caloric value of cheese curds:
cheese, please

Posted by jimbo at 4:12 PM | Comments (1)

January 13, 2007

that's not the point

Earlier this week at the blogger summit hosted by the Washington Post I was struck by how specific many of the attendees' blogs were. There was a guy there who wrote about news of interest to airline pilots over 60, several people from the local deaf community, and many neighborhood blogs represented. If you want to get hyperspecific, there's even a blog for birdwatchers in DC, and a good one at that. New blogs are still appearing every day, as specific and varied in topic as always.

When I thought about what my blog is focused on, I couldn't help remembering something Dogpoet once said when I asked him what he was going to do with his advanced degree in writing, to which he replied, "That’s not the point."

This blog shares a potpourri of interests and rants, which is why people like reading it. I write it because I like to keep a journal to back up my poor memory, and I like to share my ideas. And sometimes these ideas are a hit.

So when I see that remarkably similar ideas are coming to fruition in the 'real' world over a year later, it kinda makes me think about all the work that's gone into 7-plus years of blogging for free.

I don't regret any of the time I've spent on this blog as it's mostly for me, and a little bit for you. But there's a Midwest trait of downplaying your accomplishments, which can sometimes set in your psyche as a kind of self-belittlement. Back home we expect others to recognize what we've done rather than to toot our own horn, which I find time and again gets you no credit in this part of the country. Around here in the workplace you have to say and show what you've done, because those who reward for such things either aren't paying attention or are too busy to notice. It took some getting used to, but I've learned to advertise my accomplishments at work, even though a core part of me thinks it's ostentatious to do so.

And in the routine of a long-lasting (for me) and stable job one can begin to downplay the role one plays as part of a team. One can be replaced and there's probably someone else who can do it just as good if not better. But you are still contributing and accomplishing with your specialty in the workplace.

More than a few times I've seen some ideas on this here blog turn up elsewhere (sans credit), and it makes me wonder if I couldn't get a little more out of doing this, or using some of my skills, talents and passions better - and for more pay - during the average work-week.

My friend Gurl is a career counselor who often tells me I'd be better off as an indepedent contractor, and I'd probably get more money as well. But for now, that's not the point, but it's nice to see evidence that it's possible.

Posted by jimbo at 9:54 AM | Comments (1)

January 12, 2007

the boy is bad news

I want you so hard:
The Eagles Of DeathMetal

Have a good MAL weekend, everyone.

Posted by jimbo at 3:05 PM | Comments (6)

January 11, 2007

iron spike through my forehead

Will someone please remove the rusty iron spike embedded in my head? Ever since this cold snap set in my upper sinuses have been throbbing. I'm afraid I'll have to visit Dr. Crackenstein soon to get something for this.

The WaPo blogger summit was interesting, and the brie and chocolate-covered strawberries were delicious. The DC bloggers in attendance were a mixed bunch with more than a few oddballs in for extra spice. After the libel lawyer had his say on how not to get sued, it was time to go as the iron spike in my head was setting in deeper. It was interesting though.

Last night me and the gurls went to a college wrestling match - Terps vs. Navy. Damn, those boys are cut, and I forgot a lot about wrestling from my brief foray into that sport in high school. I also realized that rugby is a lot more fun, and you can still wrestle, but it's with a ball thrown in for good measure. Navy won I'm sad to report, but I wouldn't know how as I also realized I have and never had any idea how points are scored in that sport. Wrestling is just not a jimbo sport, but it's fun to watch.

I do in fact have Monday off, and we'll see how the weekend goes, especially if I'll be fighting a sinus infection and should back off too much fun.

OMG did you see Madonna on the Today show this morning? OMG she doesn't like talking in the morning. She's not a morning person, you can tell.

iWhat-Ever! All I know is that Apple's iPhone will allow more people than ever to become more detatched than ever from the world around them, allowing more people to wander aimlessly down the sidewalk, talk on public transit, and have their beloved iPhone go off during movies. Grampaw Jimbo will happily stay in the Dark Ages with my land line, thank you. I consider it a public service to have to keep my friends practiced in the ancient art of planning to meet somewhere, rather than be in constant electronic rapport in order to meet up. Remember when people made plans back in the Olden Days?

I am really, really enjoying the book 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus by Charles C. Mann (excerpt) that highlights a lot of new discoveries about pre-Columbian people in the Americas that hasn't quite made it into our history books yet. Apparently North, South and meso-America were thriving with cultures and empires that expanded and contracted over the centuries before Europeans came over. They weren't all at one with nature, some cultures having collapsed due to innovations that overtaxed their environments. Anyhow, there's many new fascinating ideas and facts in the book that make it a really great read.

And if I don't post for a while it's cuz I'm chilling out. But one last thing: guys, if you fist someone this weekend, please wash your hands before you come back down to the hotel lobby to socialize. Thanks!

Posted by jimbo at 10:52 AM | Comments (11)

January 9, 2007

The Legion of Doom

This is a priceless image for your desktop:
Legion of Doom
I made a little flyer at work of this image, with my 'frequently dialed' phone numbers affixed to each villian's profile as per each coworker's persona. Clockwise from upper left: Lex Luthor, Sinestro, Giganta, Cheetah, Solomon Grundy, Grod, The Toyman, Mr. Freeze, Scarecrow, The Riddler, Black Manta, Brainiac, Bizarro.

Posted by jimbo at 2:32 PM | Comments (7)

January 8, 2007

OMG Kylie Rules, Again


None of you bitches ever listen to me! But I'm always right.

Kylie Minogue is like the Dark Phoenix of pop...all-powerful, irresistable and back, stronger than ever!

Posted by jimbo at 4:24 PM | Comments (18)

"It's like a kind of torture..."

Chrisafer & JimboThe Washington Post is hosting some kinda blogger summit tomorrow. I was deemed worthy of an invite, despite the fact that they will never, ever quote me in the Express edition because an accompanying link to my blog would lead WaPo readers to endless entries about assfucking and gay poop. Anyhow, I'm I'm going with Chrisafer, having tempted him with the promise of heckling opportunity like the gentlemen to the left. When I was initially cajoling him to go with me his response was, "I don't want to go to some event filled with people who enjoy talking about themselves so much." To which I replied, "Umm...honey, you have a blog too, and all your friends are/were bloggers."

Over the years journalists have become bloggers, and bloggers are doing a kind of journalism, so this thing might serve some kind of purpose. The better blogs cite sources and produce actual news, while some blogs are little more than a glorified RSS feed with pictures of cute guys (and pop-up ads). Anyhow, it'll be interesting to see what the point of the summit is, even though it'll be filled with bloggers with so little impact on the Blogosphere. Because juding by a photo that accompanies another dumb article in The Advocate, the only noteworthy bloggers in the world universe multiverse are from Manhattan. I often forget that our known dimension revolves around NYC, and I need occasional reminders from time to time by those that live and edit magazines there.

I digressed. Blogs were huge in 2006 in that everyone wanted to have their own. Then they ask me to link to them, then they quit blogging. While the avalanche of link requests has subsided a lot since this time last year, it's helped me form a new policy, sorta like the probationary conditions upon taking a new job. If I see you can put out entries with some regularity and keep it up for more than a few months, then I'll link you, but not before. Just take a look at my blogroll and the number of dead links if you think I'm being too harsh.

Saturday treated us with glorious warm weather in the low 70s, but everyone grumbled about global warming and the imminent Apocalypse. I remember a winter rugby 7s tournament in like 1999 or 2000 down in Richmond where it was 85 in late December. Sometimes warm weather happens around here. I think there's some cold in this winter yet. I just wish it would snow around here. I could use a snow day off of work and some time on the slopes. If you have a snowboard, take this opportunity to get yours waxed, and don't forget to do it again at the end of the season so your rails don't corrode.

Remember: wax your board, not your chest!

Posted by jimbo at 10:09 AM | Comments (13)

January 7, 2007

Attention-Deficit Disorder Dungeons and Dragons (A.D.D. D&D)

I think I've just found my latest hobby: join to join a local chapter of a complaints choir! It's just the thing for those with a skill for melody and lots of complaining to do, with others of the same.

Thanks to the suggestions of some readers' comments, I ordered a new alarm clock that plays music or stored sound bits from my iPod mini. My first experiment is to wake up to the sound of spring peeper frogs, then switch over to some hardcore metal/electroncia mashups. That'll do the trick. But if someone's found some really annoying Jennifer sound clips that would work too.

So much coming up next weekend, I'd better preserve my strength by the time the weekend comes. First, OMG DJ TM™ will be spinning at Cobalt on Friday night. Then Saturday night is the leather edition of Blowoff from 9:30pm - 3:00am. Due to the MAL weekend confluence with Blowoff, it'll be a big crowd, so pick your $20 tickets up at the 9:30 Club right quick. I suspect the crowd will be something like this (NOT work safe). Then in the same place at 815 V ST. N.W. DC from 10:00pm - 6:00am on Sunday night is the MAL Reaction Dance which I may skip as it's a school night as far as I know. We'll see how burnt out I am by then and give it some consideration, being that it's $30 a ticket.

I didn't do much over the weekend, choosing to relax after the holiday madness and in preparation for the coming weekend. The gang gathered for an A.D.D. D&D (Attention-Deficit Disorder Dungeons and Dragons) session and we started off trying to catch up on almost a month's worth of bar, gay, dating, holiday and neighborhood drama. In the remaining hour of time left we actually rolled a few dice. Here's what happened:

The party is going through The Mud Sorcerer's Tomb From Dragon Magazine issue #138, going after ancient treasure. But traps and great magics of antiquity are in abundance, as the Sorcerers preferred to keep their ancient secrets and goods intact. Nevertheless, here's Nodjmet of Mulhorand, a psychic warrior/sorceror attempting to use her scimitar to cut the head off a helpess cleric held in stasis, while the air genasai monk gets ready on following up with whack to her head with a crowbar. The 12-sided die represents a flaming sphere readied in case the "sleeping beauty" turns out to be undead, and the other dice are just kinda there and don't represent anything. The party prevailed at mauling the poor priest (without knowing who she was or checking alignment) just for her fine robes.
Then the micro-roleplaying sets in, as it does with a group of attention-deficit disordered gay men hyped up on soda, carbs and caffiene:
TzilaLily the Druid: (Looks into the crypt, sees a beautiful dark-haired woman in stasis clad in flowing red robes) OMG! Look at that robe! It's fabulous!
DM (Jimbo): Umm...you're a Druid, why should you care?
Lily the Druid: Well, I need a new outfit, and the color of the robe complements my eyes. What's the thread count on that robe?
DM (Jimbo): (rolling eyes, making up stuff) It's a low thread count - under 100 - but it looks breathable in the ancient linen weaving tradition of the pre-Mulhorandi Jezulain textile guilds, very popular during the post-reckoning period of Netheril's refugee city-states. So in addition to having very powerful protective magics, it would be much sought after by modern clothiers and fabric historians as the unique weave technique allows warmth, breathability and has an exquisite feel to it.
Kal the Mage: I just want to know where that bitch put her spellbook (begins searching for secret compartments)...

Then Jon pipes in with a micro-roleplaying question:

Nodjmet (Jon): So like when I died last week, and recieved a raise dead spell from the cleric, how do I know my baby is OK? (Nodjmet the half-giant is carrying a child purportedly fathered by Scorpp the Hill Giant, a disgruntled employee from the Temple of Elemental Evil. Scorp is currently tending to the livestock in the party's keep, having been emancipated from the Temple. The child is soon to come to term...)
DM (Jimbo): Did you recieve any abdominal discomfort after your return from the dead?
Nodjmet (Jon): Umm...I don't think so, why?
DM (Jimbo): Well clearly the beneficial bacteria in your digestive system came back to life too, otherwise you would be experiencing problems digesting by today. Thus, your baby is probably also included in the package with the spell, so the child is probably OK too.

These are the things that keep gay geeks content. But not for long, since next time they have to deal with this:
The Mud Socerer's Tomb

Posted by jimbo at 3:52 PM | Comments (7)

January 4, 2007

various issues that smell bad

I'm not angry, I'm just half-asleep at any given moment, which translates as grumpy and curmudgeonly this time of year. On the agenda for the weekend is to get a new alarm clock, preferrably one with a buzzer as shrill as some of my coworkers, or perhaps even as irritating as a Jennifer. As I was sleeping through the soothing tones of an NPR newsperson this morning, I somnabulistically explored the idea of downloading MP3s and other sound files into an alarm clock. If we can choose our own ringtones (mostly annoying ones at that) why can't we choose our own morning alarm? Give the clock a USB port that can connect it to the Internet or a data stick, and download whatever to it. To ensure I got my ass up in the morning, I would probably put Jennifer on it, with randomly circulated delivered phrases: "Ohmigawd!" "Shut. Up." "No. Way." "OHMIGAWD I AM SOOO DRUNK!"

That would certainly get me up in the morning, but I would have to smack someone soon afterwards...

Speaking of Jennifers, my agents in the field have reported an unexpected consequence of the smoking ban: other, more foul odors are not covered by smoke any longer as the smoke stench that covered them is now gone.

Take the nasty upstairs bathrooms at JRs, for example. At least one urinal is always broken, but some drunk queen has already peed in it, so the fermentation is now detectable as the urine slowly converts to ammonia.

Then there's always at least one drunk queen who's been there since the end of his workday, drinking non-stop. And that queen has to poop sometime or another. And when she does, my agents report that the entire upstairs billiards area smells like drunk homo poop. Before January 1st, that smell may have gone covered or possibly unnoticed, but no more. In this instance, perhaps smoking could be allowed near the bathrooms to cover up the poo-smells?

Speaking of stank, I put my small ghetto tree outside because it looked better in the sun. It's artificial and doesn't photosynthesize, but I thought the ornaments looked nicer on it out there. But guess what? When you leave an artificial ghetto tree outside in the rain, it begins to smell. Who knew ghetto trees could stink? Anyhow, after it dried out, it stopped smelling so bad, but still has some kind of odd odor to it now, and not a good one. Perhaps a cat from the Cat Factory came and sprayed it with that nasty male cat spray smell. Or perhaps the pine cones on it as ornaments were rotting.

New Word & Phrases: "outsider" when referring to those who must go outside to smoke. e.g.: "Hey, where did Scott go?"

"Oh, he's an outsider, he went out to smoke."

The "Low Self-Esteam Room" is where some people at the gym who eschew their much-needed time on the treadmills or at the weights for some steamy romance in the saunas. But they're also in there with several other people of low self-esteam who could also better afford some time on the gym floor instead of the monkey business in the steam room. Or they could take it home where it belongs. I don't like slipping on piles of jizz when I want to come down from a nice workout or to de-congest my head.

Today at the U.S. Capitol there were two steps forward, one step back: the first female was sworn in as Speaker of the House, and a Muslim took his oath on the Koran. I think both acts are wonderfully progressive and I'm glad both women and Muslims are in these positions doing their things. Our country is in fact filled with people other than heterosexual white Christian males, and these people represent that true diversity. The step back today is that Massachussetts just moved to re-vote on the gay marriage amendment in their state, something I thought was in the bag. I guess not. Dear Nutbags: let's move on from the gay marriage thing. Let the gays have the partnership privilidges that you do, so we can deal with other, far more important things like good roads, cheap and easy health care, and the mining valuable resources from the moon or something.

Posted by jimbo at 7:22 PM | Comments (16)

January 3, 2007

vapid items of interest

Fashion Tips for 2007:

- You are not a trucker nor a redneck, please lose the jaunty cap;
- Only a few people were actually "Punk" back in tha day, and there are even fewer today. And you're not from Manchester - lose the fauxhawk;
- Crocs: No. Absolutely not. Never. Nuh-uh. Nope.
- Again, for the last time: NO POPPED COLLARS!

From The Washington Blade's Bitch Session, which I rarely take seriously:

We were always too old, too fat, too hairy, or not built enough for Nation, and you made us feel unwelcome. Then we got our own party. Now that Nation is closed, you’re trying to take over with your bitchy attitude, drug ODs and childish — and sometimes violent — behavior. Thanks for ruining Blow Off, circuit queens.

Well, not all that's pretty ruins Blowoff, and Bears aren't always the most inclusive either, as they often seem to have a minimum wieght requirement in their circles. Let's lose the vicitmist voice and learn to appreciate a little more diversity. None of the freaks and geeks that showed up back in tha day are going away, and the clubbie gurls will soon find a more suitable venue for their extracurriculars. Not all that's pretty is dumb and bitchy, and I have some pretty bitchy-looking friends who have a heart of gold. Besides, I was getting concerned that Blowoff was going to turn stale with just da same Bears showing up time and again. It's interesting to see new faces, but in the end we always seem to congeal into our own groups like Cheerios in milk. Try talking to a pretty circuit queen some day - you might find yourself making out with them all of the sudden. (Shhh...don't tell anyone - it's really fun.)

I missed this on Jay Leno: Crocodile Hunter Meets Ross the Gay Intern.

Hmm...interesting. It seems my coworkers came back to work yesterday. But I didn't, thinking today was the day to come back after the holiday. I guess I wasn't ready to come back.

Posted by jimbo at 9:54 AM | Comments (5)

January 2, 2007

last day of holiday break

Today I got my ass out of bed while it was still daylight, and had cawfee with Dreamy Ron and then had a nice bike ride around the National Mall with Casey. I took some pictures:
Capitol & Tree
We spotted two hawks circling above the U.S. Capitol. Perhaps there was some carrion or vermin inside the building that they detected. Many birds of prey are able to smell rotting meat and other foul odors at long distances.
Casey & Monuments
Here's Casey in front of the National Mall, with a statue of George Washington (correction: it's Grant), the Smithsonian building, and Washington Monument in the background.

Later on I went to see Apocalypto with Gurl and Bubbles. It was kinda like a Mayan version of The Fugitive, with great costumes and lots of running and gore. My review for the suck-film Happy Feet is up on Queer Beacon.

Reports from the field are in on the conditions of DC gay bars gone smoke-free. One commenter mentioned that he could see, for the first time ever, the entirety of JRs from one end to the other without the obscurement of a smokey haze. Contrary to some concerns, the bar scene has not collapsed - just the smokers.

Back to work tomorrow, and getting up for work is gonna be tough. Over the week and a half of time off, my sleep patterns have nearly shifted to noctournal.

Posted by jimbo at 10:41 PM | Comments (6)

January 1, 2007

domestic, and other goddesses

Like my late Aunt Ragnae* used to say: "When your ass sticks to the toilet seat, it's time to clean the bathroom."

And so I did, all day in a cleaning frenzy. I had put it off during the holiday break until I could stand it no more, and did a great many other things. I called off all hard and soft commitments and got the house in order, including making glazed beets and Rice Crispie bars, mopping the floor, putting away holiday stuff, throwing away old paperwork, gathering old class books for resale, cleansing my iPod of ignored songs, putting in new songs, dusting and tidying. Now I feel better.

In rounding up other New Years' news, the recent Queer of the Year poll got me thinking that in our excitement about outings and closets and celebrities this year, we can forget about our own contributions that lay much of the foundation for g/l/bi/trans/whatever awareness across the continent. The "work" out gays and lesbians do every day just being themselves has a tremendous impact on how we are perceived, much more than Lance Bass going on vacation in Provincetown and getting an award from HRC, which tends to get forgotten in a typical American's attention span. Talking about your date you had the other night with coworkers, holding hands in public, or being seen on mass transit reading The Washington Blade with blatant gay headlines has impact. To copy Time magazine's year-end honor, the Queer of the Year is the out gay man and lesbian that is open about their lives and who they love.

But I think Martina Navratilova deserves some special credit on the year of her 50th birthday - where she competed and won in the U.S. Open. 50!!! She began playing professionally at age 16. She is out, open about herself, and is especially admirable for being a successful athlete at her age, lesbian or not. She's just doing her thing very well and for that I regret my delay in nominating her in time as Queer of the Year. Perhaps she's Queer of the Century in my opinion.

Grades are in from my last class, Marketing Management. Final grade on the paper that stressed me out: 14 out of 15, due to being a day late. From the professor: "One of the best in the class...some pictures would have helped illustrate the data, but was an excellent paper." I know my Crayola Crayons marketing tools, bitches. The next class doesn't start until the 30th, and I'm happy to be off from paper writing until then.

* Pronounced "RUG-nah" for some reason. It's the female variant of the Scandinavian name "Ragnar".

It is rumored in family legend that Aunt Ragnae was at the very least a great fan of Ray Nitschke and was a bit of a party girl. I like to think I'm most like my crazy Aunt Ragnae in that I also like a particular Packer very much, and am also a bit of a party gurl.

Posted by jimbo at 11:56 PM | Comments (4)