Marx the Spot

Home, Sweet Bloggy Home

2008-03-28T07:26:00.000-07:00

I have turned my blog over to Wordpress. It's pretty fancy. I'm still learning the layout there, so it will be slow goings for a little bit.

www.marxthespot.wordpress.com

Please take a moment to update your links, bookmarks, and hair style. Thanks!

French Pop & eCards

2008-03-27T16:47:00.000-07:00

Bed-Stuy in My Eye

2008-03-11T08:58:00.000-07:00

Guess what? Brian and I have officially waged war on our shitty landlord. He hasn't returned phone calls, he has been unresponsive in making repairs, and, when I call from an unrecognizable phone number and he actually answers, our conversations are short and hostile. This month, however, we are pulling the carpet out from under him.

After creating a pretty dense paper trail of certified letters, 311 complaints, city inspector reports, photos of damage, receipts, and a chronological timeline of everything that has happened up to this point, I felt pretty secure in withholding rent from this horrible, horrible man. Sure, he has tossed a few glue traps for the rats in our entryway. Sure, there was a cheap smoke alarm carelessly thrown on the floor in front of our door. This tells me that he has, indeed, been contacted by 311 and is aware of all of the repairs that are needed. He just chooses to ignore it so he doesn't have to spend any money. So, we are choosing to not give him any money. Suck it. Here is a full list that I reported to the city inspectors -

FRONT BEDROOM
- Hole in ceiling, ripped paint, occasional water leaks
- Four holes in southeast wall which allow for vermin entry
- Floor sinking into the basement, unstable movement detected
- Exposed electrical wiring on south wall, incident of electrical fire
- Radiator leaking
- Possible black mold from radiator
- Second radiator broken
- Rotted floorboards due to water damage
- Floorboards are peeling up from floor
- Vermin and rodents

HALLWAY
- Radiator sinking into floor
- Rotted floorboards due to water damage
- Possible black mold from radiator
- Exposed electrical wiring in light fixture
- No lights

KITCHEN
- Constantly leaky faucet
- Hole in south wall which allows for vermin entry
- Floor sinking into the basement in a small area
- Vermin and rodents

BATHROOM
- Bathtub leaks onto the floor collecting still water
- Shower head needs to be replaced
- Toilet flushing mechanism needs to be replaced

FRONT YARD
- Trash and debris not collected or maintained
- Dirt and mud left from when they replaced the boiler
- Mailbox not properly maintained
- Drainage blocked, water collects
- Vermin and rodents

BACK ROOM
- Unheated
- No electrical outlets
- Unauthorized add-on
- Wall not insulated

BASEMENT
- Rotten beams that hold up the floor need to be replaced
- Electric panel rotted

Pretty fierce list, huh?

After the city inspector issued a "C Class violation" for the floors sinking into the basement, another city guy came to take pictures of everything, then a construction guy came by to look at the work that needed to be done. He said that it would take between 3-5 weeks and that they would be starting this week. Lucky for me, the city does all the work for the emergency repairs and then takes my landlord to court for reimbursement. Ha! The work includes ripping out the floorboards in my room and the hallway, exposing the basement, and replacing the huge wooden beams that are supposed to support the floor. THEN, replacing the wood paneling on the floor with tiles. Here is my list of concerns -

1. I have to clear out my entire room.
2. Will it be cold because of the gaping hole in the floor?
3. Can people get into the apartment through the gaping hole in the floor that would technically be accessible from the street grate that leads to the basement?
4. I have to live in a kitchen again! Something I swore I would never, ever, ever, for the sake of my mental health, EVER do again!
5. Will it really be finished in 3-5 weeks? My guess is no.
6. Will my computer, digital camera, ipod, TV, DVDs, and stuffed animals get stolen?
7. Should I just move now?
8. Or should I try to squeeze at least two months out of this shit hole to save the money to find a new place to live?
9. Will they find my landlord's body I hid in the basement?

I want to make my fucking shitface landlord's life hell. Let him do the legwork of filing court papers to try to evict us. I'll show up in court with a goddamn smile and a stack of evidence. For months, I have gone to bed every night looking up at a hole in my ceiling, wondering if water will fall on me again. At least once a week, I hear mice and occasional rats rummaging around my room. More than once I have come home to see more than one mice on my kitchen counter tops. Mouse Party! I worry about my room being set on fire because of faulty wiring and rotten electrical panels. We already had one fire in my wall. My last thought before I drift off into sleep is "Will I fall through the floor into my basement tonight?" I have had countless dreams about falling through the floor. When I walk on my bedroom floor, it creaks and bounces up and down. SCARY! I claim mental distress and now I will wage psychological warfare on my landlord. I want his soul to bleed.

Wow. I am really healthy.

Seriously, this is the type of shit that happens to crazy people before they go crazy. I am just a step away from becoming a drunk, homeless lady wearing one purple slipper who yells at strangers on a subway platform about the injustice of everything. So, if I seem a little short fused, please don't take it personally. I am embroiled in a deathmatch. A gladiator spectacle.

Also, I am working on a writing a play and some sketches, so this blog may or may not be updated as often as it has been. I also may or may not be softly crying in my kitchen. I also may or may not be passed out with an empty bottle of cheap merlot in Grand Central Station. WHY MUST EVERYTHING BE SO HARD?

Ultimately, this will be a hilarious story. Right?

Movie Quote Game!

2008-03-08T08:03:00.000-08:00

Isaac tagged Brian and Brian tagged me and Beta. I am supposed to make a list of 15 quotes from my favorite movies. So, I did that. I am also supposed to tag some people. So, I tag Brett, Jackie,Nick, Glennis, Chris and Erin. Leave your answers in the comments section and I will go back and give prizes and awards and such. Hop to it.

1. I have to find my hairbrush.

2. You don't know jack-shit! Butt-wipe! Needle-dick! Cock-bite! Jack-off! Limp-wrist! Corn-hole! Banana-breath! Shit-bird! Bird-turd! Turd-face! Kiss-ass! Brown-nose! Macho wimp! Limp dick! Fart-face! Tire merchant! What's the matter? Gonna cry? Come on, Crybaby Davie! Cry! Cry! Cry! Shit-face! Rat-turd! Ass-licking son of a bitch!

3. You know friend, this is a god damn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation.

4. The only thing we serve is tongue. Do you boys like tongue?

5. Janie, today I quit my job. And then I told my boss to go fuck himself, and then I blackmailed him for almost sixty thousand dollars. Pass the asparagus.

6. You look like a doily.

7. That boy is our legal property, same as the family cow.

8. Let's have fun now! Let's just go and go and go, because it's over. There's just too many things, too many things, too many things. Too many things.

9. Unbewievable. Stwaight to the ewephant.

10. My right hand is so tight I can barely thread a needle!

11. "Eskimo."

12. Wait, are you singing mixolydian scales or something?

13. Oh, my God. It's Mega Maid. She's gone from suck to blow.

14. I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is, okay? I'm the one who buys it. I know how good it is. When Bonnie goes shopping she buys SHIT. I buy the gourmet expensive stuff because when I drink it I want to taste it. But you know what's on my mind right now? It AIN'T the coffee in my kitchen, it's the dead nigger in my garage.

15. What are you looking at? Wipe that face off your head, bitch.

Janet Jackson is Fierce

2008-03-05T06:43:00.000-08:00

My ears can't get enough of the new Janet Jackson song, "So Much Betta". For real, my ears keep asking me to play the song over and over. How does Janet know exactly what my ears want to hear? When I listen to this song, I just want to shove each note directly into my ear canal, deep inside so the song and my ears become one. So deep that it tickles and hurts at the same time, like a good Q-tip scraping.

This song is a perfect example of how to use a Daft Punk sample. Totally fierce. Janet completely murders Kanye's piece of shit. Hey Kanye! You just got beat by a girl!

I bet this dancer kid could beat up Kanye too.

The Hipster War of 2008

2008-03-04T06:21:00.001-08:00

I thought it was gonna be a harmless birthday party. This year, I loosely enforced a 'hipster' theme. Every party needs a theme! How else do you know what sort of evite to pick out? We ate at Sea in Brooklyn and drank pomegranate mojitos. We split into teams and did a scavenger hunt involving places located off the L train. Everything was going perfectly, until we arrived at The Alligator Lounge on Metropolitan Avenue. Cheap drinks. Free pizza. A bartender named True. (User note, you can click on the pics to make them bigger!)

Arrangements were made a week in advance to have the back room reserved for my party. I expected between 40-50 people, but in actuality only 30 showed up (that's not counting the 5 people who showed up but never said goodbye when they left, poor form!) It would have been OK if we weren't competing with hipsters for seating. Instead, we thought we would have a dance party right smack in the middle of their gloomy flannel. The friendly staff had also told me that I could take over the music in the back room if I supplied an ipod. Yes, I do want to provide the soundtrack to my birthday. Thank you, True.

The hipster climate in the back room was very segregated. In "The Good Corner" all the seats were taken by what appeared to be a very comfortable group of stoners who had stacks of free pizza in the middle of the table. I guessed they were there every Saturday night. In "The Dark Corner" was a smaller group of well dressed hipsters who told me, "as long as you don't play any Dave Matthews or John Mayer, we're gonna get along just fine." In "The Red Light Corner" was a group of lame girls who looked like they got to drive their father's BMW's into Brooklyn from Long Island - "Just don't go into the city, ladies!" Other random hipsters filled up the room while guzzling Pabst Blue Ribbon. There was a bit of a line waiting to play Mrs. Pac-Man and Big Buck Hunter. This was gonna be a hard crowd to win over, especially since someone had put 5 dollars worth of Jeff Buckley on the jukebox.

True, the hipster bartender, graciously helped me start up my ipod. My first song was "Semi Charmed Life" by Third Eye Blind. Wow. The mixed reaction was deafening - equal parts excited squeals and a few people actually yelling 'Boo!' By the time the first chorus of 'do-do-do-do' came around, I had won over half the room. Some of the lame girls were singing along, a few dudes at the video games were bouncing their heads. However, all was not well with the stoners in the corner. They were pissed we turned off their set of songs that people use to kill yourself in a bathtub. How can you be mad at "Semi Charmed Life"? EVERYONE liked that song when it came out! The room made it through the next few songs without incident - "Forever Your Girl" by Paula Abdul, "Lovefool" by The Cardigans, and "Groove is in the Heart" by Dee-Lite all blended into the crowd, but when Madonna sang "Where's the Party", it was just too much for certain hipsters to handle.

One of the drunk stoners threw free pizza at Jon. Immediately following the hit on Jon, another round of free pizza bullets hit Oscar. Cody saw everything and instantly flipped into rage, making accusations and trying to verbally assault the hipsters. Out of nowhere, a giant black man came over and ejected the drunk assholes who were throwing free pizza. Then, the remaining stoners tried to start more shit with our good time crew! Another bouncer came over to squash it and the rest of the stoners went back to their corner. A hipster uprising! That was scary AND funny! If only Madonna knew how much pain and suffering she caused these hipsters with her bubble-gum party hit from the 80's. I am sure she meant for the song to bring people together, but here, in a back room at a hipster bar in 2008, it was only tearing people apart.

The rest of the night continued with half the crowd freaking out (in a positive way) over every song that came on while the other half whispered messages of hate towards me and my posse. They hated on Justin Timberlake. They hated on Kylie Minogue. The even had the audacity to hate on the brand new Janet Jackson! True and his batender gang bought me three drinks throughout the night. I guess they felt bad that the stoners threw free pizza at my friends. Those were the most violent stoners I have ever met! I love that they hated the music so much that they started a free pizza food fight, but they didn't hate the music enough to leave and let us have the good seats! I think they particularly loved it when Lisa Loeb & Nine Stories sang "Stay (I Miss You)". They didn't know whether to sing along or take me hostage. Even the well dressed hipsters tried to scold my music selections and asked me 'how long does your birthday last for?' I assured them that there will be no Dave Matthews or John Mayer and that it's my birthday and they have to be nice to me. Hipsters are hilarious.

The lame girls who danced to every song wished me a happy birthday and thanked me for my wonderful playlist. A few hipster dudes asked me to make a play list for them so that hot chicks will come over and dance at their house. When I went to gather my belongings to leave, I did a fade out on my playlist. There was a spattering of unenthusiastic applause, mixed with just a few disappointed groans. Now I know how to start a Hipster War if ever we needed one. Just make a playlist and force a bar full of hipsters to listen to it. Armies will form. Battle lines will be crossed. You will decide whether you hate my music or love it and the war will begin. Luckily there will be enough free pizza to ration to the troops so the hipster war would never be without food. Ooh. That gives me an idea. No food? Next year's theme will be African Safari! I can register my party guests to adopt a starving child! And I can still play Madonna for the soundtrack!

31 is for Assholes

2008-02-27T12:44:00.001-08:00

Great. I am 31. Does that mean I should have medical insurance now? I am not sure. No one I know has medical insurance, but then again, no one I know is quite as old as me. Old people need medical insurance since their bodies start falling apart. For instance, just this week alone, my gums bled, my nose fell off, and I shit my pants when I was napping. I am an asshole. An invalid asshole.

"Your 30's are the new 20's!" Well yay. Thank you for making my birthday into an ad campaign. Fucking Americans. Everything is a young and sexy ad campaign. I wanna see chubby and cuddly ad campaigns, something to showcase the "real woman". I tried to lose weight last year, but was only doing it so the jocks in the locker room would notice me. Now that I graduated high school and I don't talk to the jocks anymore, I don't seem to care about watching my carbs. Eating a nice big bowl of Haagen Dazs while watching 'The Biggest Loser' is eerily satisfying.

How is it life has passed you by without living it? Or have I? How is it that there are still so many things I need to get accomplished? Or have I? I thought going crazy when I was 29 was the vortex into something different. Maybe? I need to do that thing. I need to finish that thing. I need to call that thing.

"The thing about being an older guy is that you get to fuck younger guys!" Well this is true. Today, the universe sent me a spicy 22 year-old Colombian NYU student. We smoked bowls and I listened to him talk about his thesis project. Just using the word 'thesis' gets me horny. He is an American Society major, whatever that means. His thesis is about how M.I.A. is socially relevant to the world around us and how she is acting as a musical bridge between third world countries and America. Stop sounding smarter than me and suck my dick.

Here is something that makes me cry - David fucking Archuleta.

I think crying at 'American Idol' is a step up from crying at 'Judge Judy'. So, at least I feel like I have matured in a certain respect. I have been building character all my life, of course it has finally given me some maturity.

"Hey there! Wanna go out on a date and I can show you my X-men comic books? We can get drunk and make out! I'll be really charmingly sarcastic and adorable and make it so that you start liking me, then I won't call you anymore. But don't take it personally, I am a crazy person. Crazier than you if you can imagine." Sure. Why not.

"Hey there! Wanna sit next to a energy sucking vampire? I'm really old and nasty! I will slurp and crunch and burp into your ear all day. The positive soul that is your actual self will slowly begin to decay since I will break it down over 40 hours every week. My sausage fingers will just barely brush your skin when I pass you the stapler and I will wear see-through tops with bright turquoise bra's that hold up my droopy chest. I will never be nice to you." Sure. Why not.

"Hey there! Wanna get yelled at by stupid post office employees because you are white?" Sure. Why not?

"Hey there! Wanna develop a deep seeded insecurity that you will never be good enough because your dad always treated your brother better than you? Would you like to get really upset whenever anything is "unfair" or "unjust" or someone just plain tells you that you are second best? How about if I continue to ask you 'how is that acting thing going'?" Sure. Why not.

"Hey there! Don't you just loooove the new Vampire Weekend CD?" Sure. Why not.

Maybe one day we'll all have reached our dreams. Our goals will be complete. All of our drive, all of our passion, will have been put to the test and the fruits of our labor will have been long eaten. Then, everyone I know, or even everyone I don't know, can come over to my giant castle and we can sit around and tell stories and play guitars and shit. Wouldn't that be cool? I would even have a giant bounce house! That will be for my 32nd birthday. Today, I am happy with just calling out sick to work and watching 'Project Runway'.

2 to 31: Oops

2008-02-26T07:29:00.000-08:00

So, I just realized that my countdown is off by one day. My birthday is actually tomorrow, not the day after tomorrow. Which is just as well because I really don't like forcing myself to write in a blog every day. It waters down my spark.

I'm sick still and don't have anything to say.

See? No spark.

3 to 31: Oscars

2008-02-25T18:49:00.000-08:00

I blame the Superbowl for the downfall of the Oscars. Or maybe Ms. Jackson, but I like her, so I blame sports and all the red state a-holes who bitched and moaned when they saw Janet's black titty during the half-time show. Since then, there has been less and less spontanaety on TV. Ultimately, this has made the Academy Awards a meticulous, over-produced bore.

I dream of Oscar ceremonies of the frisky 70's. I barely remember the coked up productions of the 80's. I want to see stuff like Jack Palance doing one armed push-ups! Nope. It's all gone. A room full of queers and jews and the best they can muster up is Jon Stewart playing wii? However, something amazing DID happen on the red carpet. Someone thought it would be a good idea to invite Gary Busey! This was the highlight of the Oscars....before they even started!

A few highlights from the actual show...

- Diablo Cody's speech for Best Original Screenplay
- That gospel choir song
- That French actresses reaction when she won
- Tilda Swinton (I have loved her since 'The Beach')
- When Jon Stewart brought back the girl half of the duo who won for Best Song because she got cut off before she could say anything. I loved that alot. That girl's moment was snuffed out because of "time". Fucking give her 30 seconds to cherish her big moment. Jesus. Thanks Jon Stewart!

Also, if you have not voted for the Jeff Awards, now is your last chance before polls close!
-

4 to 31: Youtube Sunday

2008-02-24T14:16:00.000-08:00

5 to 31: Purgatory

2008-02-23T17:08:00.000-08:00

Too hot in my room. Radiator hisses, sounds like snakes? I am not sure what snakes sound like at this point in my illness. The inner workings of my chest are bruised. My feet refuse to stay warm. Ice tootsies. For the first time today, I thought that maybe I should go to the hospital, but that would just incur another bill that I would run away from. I hallucinated while I was watching 'Flavor of Love 3' at 6:00am. Brian's tribal mask, that hangs in our hallway, made a stupid face at me. I went back to my bed and pretended that I wasn't going to fall into the cold, wet basement. Time bends. Chills overtake me. Dying hurts.

I think I feel 9% better than the last two days. Hope is alive!

6 to 31: Dead

2008-02-22T16:34:00.000-08:00

It hurts to type this. My frail, brittle body is turning to dust. I just watched a really long commercial about the acne medicine, ProActive. The before pictures of clients just made me barf.

No joke.

7 to 31: Dying

2008-02-21T08:22:00.000-08:00

I'm hella sick today. I woke up at 4:20am (hmm) and thought my nose fell off and my head exploded. I called out sick today. Using my voice proved difficult since my esophagus was on fire. I'm going back to bed.

There's a porcupine in my throat.

8 to 31: Speed Dating?

2008-02-20T06:26:00.000-08:00

Yes. It happened. I went speed dating last weekend. Brian made me promise to go with him, so I did. I got two other friends to go with us too. We were a fierce foursome. There were at least 70 other single dudes in the cramped room. I was number 005. We wanted good seats, so were arrived early and sat together in a row. This became problematic when the inner circle of losers started rotating and ran into a little section of actors/writers/improvisers. One of my friends handed out flyers to his one-man show to everyone. I was last in my line of friends and by the time the herd of dicks got to me, they were sooo over talking to actors/writers/improvisers. There wasn't any way to make them laugh. I had to work a different angle.

Topics that I covered included having been a special ed teacher in the past, my love for horror movies (funny the stuff you'll cling to when you don't have anything else to talk about), and how loud it was in the room (like that). One of the hotter boys seemed genuinely disgusted that he had to talk to me. He wasn't mean, but his face was absolutely clear that he was disappointed to have been randomly matched with me. Can't you just fake it for three minutes? I know this situation is a little lame, and I am just as embarrassed as you are to be here, but cut the crap and stop making me feel like a fat slug. At the very least, I know that I am not boring!

The boyfriend interviews continued for a full hour. Some of the other toddlers I met included a very tiny acupuncturist, a sound designer with bugged out eyes, and a manny. There was one guy who was pretty hot and awesome. He had carefully sculpted chops and was a theatre director who recently had traveled to Paris. He was beefy in a good way and looked like he was versatile in the sack. Alas, we did not match.

In fact, I only matched with one guy. He was sort of New Jersey trash, which is hot for about two minutes. I actually asked him, "What do you do for fun?" and he actually answered, "Get naked!" I'm pretty sure he was wearing a little bit of make-up. He was crazy. I am a crazy magnet. That's just my cross to bear in life. Guys who have just been released from mental hospitals love me. Admittedly, I do like my men to be a touch nutzo, but in a good way. It keeps the relationship fun and zesty. What am I talking about? I have never even really had a real relationship. I don't think anyone in that cramped room ever has either.

9 to 31: Spice Girls

2008-02-19T07:12:00.000-08:00

HATED IT

Too many vaginas! It was a bonafide taco party! I was overwhelmed with 12 year-olds from Long Island at the Spice Girls concert last night. As a gay man, I truly feared for my safety. The line to the girls bathroom was a frenzied beehive. The eerie calmness in the men's room was equally unnerving, like I was pooping in a futuristic, female dominated society.

T-shirts were on sale for fifty bucks. Fuck you. I can't even wrap it around my head that people would pay that sort of money for a fucking t-shirt, but that didn't stop the massive amount of pre-teen clams wearing them. I spent $15.00 on a cute tote bag, but the material was so thin and wispy that it probably wasn't worth $2.00.

About two-thirds into the concert, the Spice Girls performed a trio of disco karaoke songs. "Celebrate", "We Are Family", and "something else that I forgot" were all tied together in some sort of haphazard bar mitzvah party extravaganza. Super low point of the show. It succeeded only as being time filler. I am all for goony camp, but this display was too much. If I wasn't busy having such a great time, I would have been pissed.

I hated how everyone screamed for Posh Spice. She is so overrated. Posh's "solo" didn't even involve her singing. She pranced around the stage and performed some Madonna-esque choreography. Boo. I refused to scream for her in protest. The girls were such bitches to Ginger. What assholes.

LOVED IT

Ginger! Ginger! Ginger! I loved her blinged-out British Flag dress! I loved the fancy hydraulics in the stage that raised and lowered the ladies! I loved the hot dancer boys dressed in hip hop gear! I loved the hot dancer boys dressed as matadors! I loved the hot dancer boys dressed as hot dancer boys! I loved Sporty Spice! She carries the Spice Girls vocally and is so grossly underrated it kills me. I loved the slew of parents just sort of sitting around in the audience while everyone else was dancing. I loved seeing a single dad and a single mom chat each other up in the food court. Maybe they made a love connection while their daughters exercised their 'girl power' in the audience! I hope so! I loved pretending I was boyfriend/girlfriend with my besty-straighty, Sophia! I loved when they sang 'Wannabe'! I loved when Ginger sang 'It's Raining Men'! I loved when they made Ginger disappear on a hydraulic before singing 'Holler', their first single after Ginger left the band. I love Ginger so much. More power to her for trying to do something outside of the Spice Girls, fail, and then swallow her pride and do a reunion tour. When some of the girls tried to give her shit about leaving the band, she triumphed with grace and humor. Ginger! Ginger! Ginger!

10 to 31: Drats

2008-02-18T08:28:00.000-08:00

Last night, a terrible, horrible, awful thing happened. I came home to find a rat. Recently, I have developed a habit of immediately checking the glue traps upon entering my room. I didn't see one trap where it usually was placed. It had disappeared! I knew this could not have been a good sign. It was in the middle of the floor and had a giant rat attached to it. Not a cute little mouse, but a huge rat!

He stood on all fours and looked directly into my eyes when I flipped on the light. He panicked, squirmed around, and accidentally got his face stuck in the glue! Oh, I felt so bad! I screamed. He screamed. Brian filled up the water bucket. I tried to muster up the courage to pick up the trap. I started crying. The rat jerked himself hard enough to release his face from the trap. I watched him bite his foot off!!! There was blood everywhere!!! Then, the rat pooped all over the place!!! He had so much energy! It looked as if he might actually pull himself out of the glue! We couldn't let that happen! I don't want a bloody, stumpy, rat running around my apartment! I had to make Brian put him in the bucket. I just couldn't do it fast enough. Brian used some kitchen tongs to pick it up and hold him down in the water. I heard him making sad, little rat screams. His little rat air bubbles came to the surface and he fought really hard. I said a little prayer for him and told him we were sorry and he drowned. No more bubbles. I'm emotionally scarred. Poor rat. Always remember. Never forget.

If you are curious to what it was like, there are a million videos on youtube. We did not film this experience because it was just too sad. I feel so bad for that rat. He really did try his hardest. We reset a new trap. I am sure this will not be our first kill.

They say killing gets easier after your first time. By "they", I mean serial killers I've watched in interviews. You know how spirits remain in the area where they were tragically killed or murdered? I might have a ghost rat in my future.

11 to 31: Youtube Sunday

2008-02-17T08:00:00.000-08:00

12 to 31: Anti-Homelessness

2008-02-16T07:04:00.001-08:00

While doing laundry this evening, I met a young woman named Trina. She was huddled up on the street in a torn blanket and a knitted rainbow hat. She asked me if I knew of anywhere in the neighborhood that she could "crash" and "just lay my head down for a few hours". I blamed my roommate as an excuse not to let her wedge her way into thinking she could stay with me. We had a decent conversation and I could tell she was a nice girl, but also suffering from some mild mental health issues. The way she talked and acted reminded me of the worst roommate I ever had in my life, but for some reason, I liked her.

Maybe I was inwardly compelled to help her out because of my recent bad karma points, but after talking to her a while longer, I invited her over to have some food and take a hot shower. I asked her a little more about herself and she said, "Well, I'm highly educated. I went to Brown University and majored in World Religion. I don't smoke. I don't do drugs. Sometimes, I write for The Village Voice. I am sort of a famous artist in the neighborhood, like the people who know art, know me. I just got out of an abusive relationship. Hopefully, he is in jail. Also, I am totally against September 11th."

Sold.

She helped me fold my laundry while we talked about religion. "If Jesus died for our sins to end our suffering, why do people suffer every day?" was her opening question. She quoted Bible scriptures that didn't sound quite right. We came back to my apartment and I made her some Cream of Mushroom soup. She guzzled all my Diet Dr. Pepper and took an oddly long shower, which was nice because I had noticed that she smelled a little funky. She wore sandals in the shower too, which I thought was a classy touch. I looked online for shelters in the area while she watched 'Project Runway'.

She explained to me her philosophy of "Anti-Homelessness" - 'If everyone was given a job then there wouldn't be any homeless on the streets. I want to work with people to fight the homeless crusade. I was traveling in Eastern Europe and broke my foot. I couldn't walk. My parents moved and didn't tell me where they were going. I think I was the product of an illegal, secret adoption. I still don't understand how there is war in the world because the internet is such a great invention. The internet should have ended war and homelessness.'

Trina borrowed my phone to call some girl to see if she could stay with her, rather than go to a shelter. Trina said, "I'm not going to a shelter again because being raped isn't my idea of a good time." I put her in a cab to the motel her friend was staying in and gave her the only cash I had on me ($9.00). Before she left, I asked her if she would take a picture with me. She said, "Absolutely, I used to be a model before Tyra Banks went crazy. She tried to make me crazy, but I am a normal person."

She gave me a can of jasmine scented room spray as a gift. Then, she wrote down her email address for me. What?

13 to 31: Quack

2008-02-15T07:06:00.000-08:00

You know what's really awesome? Coming to work and getting an email from the head of security that some whacko student threatened to shoot up campus. I was given the student's name. That's it. Well, at least I'll be prepared when he walks into my office and the first person he sees is little ol' me. He won't understand that I didn't contribute negatively on whatever issue flipped his switch. I hope I have time to explain that all I do on campus is gchat and blog all day. Everyone comes to the Main Building to complain about shit. What if one of them really did have a gun? I can't decide if this is serious or comedy material. Oh Christ. I'm numb.

Seriously, I am the first person when you walk into the Main Building. Casualty Number One. Awesometown.

Something else has been on my mind too this week. I don't know who I am gonna vote for on American Idol! I genuinely love 14 of the 24 finalists. That's crazy!

14 to 31: Valentines

2008-02-14T10:38:00.001-08:00

Well, I almost had a valentine on Valentine's Day, but Like-Like is going with his friends to an Anti-Valentine's Day Party. Aren't those parties for bitter singles with nothing better to do? Why would you go to one if you didn't have to? Anyway, I had two ticket's to go see my new fave band, MGMT. I am pretty sure I am still gonna go by myself since everyone I know either has plans or their very own valentine. I wrote up a fictional ad on craigslist to see if I could sell my extra ticket to a deserving person. Here is the ad I made followed by my favorite responses -

Hey there MGMT fans!

So, I have two tickets to MGMT on February 14th in Williamsburg. I was gonna go with my boyfriend, but we broke up about a month ago. Boo. I still really want to go, so I might just have one ticket, but if you make a really sweet offer for both, that might work too.

Also, if you just wanna go WITH me and make out a little bit. I can handle that too. I can use a rebound.*

*This portion of the offer applies to gay boys only.

- I need one ticket! I'm not a gay boy but i usually fall in love with
gay boys so maybe we can work something out. Otherwise I'd pay $20ish? Thanks, Stephanie

- Hey there! I am no boy just a straight girl but I am interested in buying
those MGMT tkts. Did you already sell one? Are you still willing to
sell both? How much for? Thanks, Jenna

- Hi! I'm not a gay boy, just a fag hag I'm afraid, but I'd love to see MGMT
on Valentine's Day if your tickets are still available. Please let me
know. Thanks, Hailey

After realizing that MGMT doesn't have any gay fans, I tried to figure out what straight girl I would allow to buy my extra ticket. Then, a boy emailed me....

Hey there.. so I just started listening to MGMT again after a bit of a break, and would really be down to see this show, and it just so happens I don’t have anything going on this Thursday either. I've been told I'm a fun guy to see a show with.... and my roommate is gay – does that count?? LOL!!

Anyway, I think it could be fun... Here’s a little something to show you I don't have one of those faces covered in hair or anything weird like that. Let me know! Adrian

Adrian totally wants to make out with me.

I wrote to Adrian, but he didn't respond, so I posted another ad this morning on craigslist to see who was the best person to receive this ticket.

I have one extra ticket for MGMT on 2-14. I will sell it for $25.00. You must pick it up from me in Brooklyn. I am sure I will get several emails about the ticket. So, if you want it, write me a brief paragraph on one or all of the following topics...

1. Best or Worst Valentines Day Ever
2. What's you're favorite kind of pie and why?
3. The naughtiest thing you ever did.

I am not a skeevy sexo, just trying to figure out who best to buy it. Make me laugh and you will get it.

while i am not sure if this applies as the naughtiest thing i have ever done, it most certainly applies in the most DH Lawrence style thing i have ever done which sort of taps into the best valentines day ever despite being a different date. i had not seen my boyfriend in about 3 months but we were both abroad and finally meeting in Denmark. i brought some acid with me and one day we went on a hike near the Roskilde Fjord. coming upon a rolling field that was literally rippling, we stripped and made love for several hours, covering ourselves in mud and overall becoming primal versions of our formal personaes. after, we discreetly got dressed and went on with our day, but it remains one of the best and my greatest experience of oneness with earth. please pick me, i would love to see this show. Thanks, Katie

I was just about to call Katie when I received this email.

Hi there,

My name is Andy, and I have the biggest crush on this girl. Her name is China and I met her at some Pop Rally party at the MoMA. She's 24, I think, and I'll be 26 this year. I work as a freelance writer/photographer and try as I might to get press access to the MGMT show on Thursday, I couldn't manage it. And I wanted desperately to take China to the show.

I don't have much money (freelancer, again) but I'm open... I have quite a collection of music ranging from Fela Kuti to Dan Deacon to Snoop Dogg to Modest Mouse. If you're looking for some new music, I'd be happy to make you some CDs.

OR... maybe I can give you free drinks at some of my parties. Working at Chief Magazine we throw parties in Brooklyn a few times a month, next one is on Saturday. Check out the site for details: http://www.chiefmag.com

In terms of my WORST valentine's day... that's a no brainer... I was young, maybe 15, and my first girlfriend and I were suppose to go to a friend's house for a party and when I got out of the shower to get ready my mother said Megan was on the phone and I picked up and she canceled on me and then promptly broke up with me on the phone as I stood naked in my bedroom. My parents felt bad for me and let me have some wine with them, which I chugged down, then slipped a few shots of vodka, and soon enough spent the next couple of hours puking in the bathroom. Awful.

Apple Pie is my absolute favorite because it's good warm, cold, with ice cream with sharp cheddar cheese... it's good for dessert, it's good for breakfast, it's so damn versatile and American "as apple pie" how can you not love it!

And the naughtiest thing I've ever done... there's a few, now that I'm thinking about it. My girlfriend and I once borrowed her mom's minivan, told her we were going to get some coffee, and instead drove around the block, parked, and fucked. Which would've been fine, but we "forgot" to pick up coffee for her mom. And that would've been fine but we also forgot to collect the condom wrapper from the backseat. Oh! And one time, I got caught having sex in the highschool gym locker room by the entire girls varsity basketball team. That wasn't so bad though, I got to give my girlfriend shit for months because she was convinced we'd get away with it in the girls locker and not the boys.

What do you think?
Andy

Andy wins. He is getting my ticket for China and he is hoping to score another before the concert. May the grace of God and the luck of Buddah help him find another ticket. I hope he and China has a great time. He is picking up the ticket later. I hope he is cute.

15 to 31: Netflix

2008-02-13T07:52:00.000-08:00

I renewed my Netflix account last week. The first movie that I had sent to me was 'Stomp the Yard'. Why? What has my life come to? Kill me now.

16 to 31: Crybaby

2008-02-12T06:26:00.000-08:00

From the suggestions - "A song that moved you in a major way, and the situation that surrounded it." - I have decided to do mini entries on 3 songs. Thank you, Ben for the delightful suggestion!

1. "Winter" by Tori Amos - I was a sophmore at a Catholic high school. This song was introduced to me by a hot senior in the drama club. He was the lead in the school play and he told me how much the song meant to him. He said, "It's sort of a father/son song if you twist the words to fit your needs." This senior dude was my first crush and I identified with his daddy issues. We chatted backstage during rehearsals about life and Algebra. I wouldn't be surprised if he grew up to be gay too.

2. "Heart of Gold" by Force & Styles - Upon first listen, you wouldn't peg this for a song to cry about. It's 100 beats per minute! This song was introduced to me early on in my raver days . The soaring vocals and beautiful lyrics spoke to my college heart in a goony, yet undeniably truthful way. If I listen to this song and think about the happy memories hard and long enough, I would cry. PLUR!

3. "Fix You" by motherfucking Coldplay - Ugh. I hate myself for being emotionally effected by this song. The summer I fell in love with one of my best friends coincided with the release of this album. I had stolen the CD from the Starbucks that I temporarily worked at in California and listened to it constantly with my friend. After a month of kissing, laughing, and sharing our deepest secrets, I had to return to New York. I hugged him goodbye and drove to the airport. I was sad, but was able to hold back the tears until this song came on the radio. My eyes clouded with wetness and I had to pull over. I sat in the parking lot of a Taco Bell sobbing over the feeling of knowing I loved him way than he liked me. Fuck you, Coldplay.

17 to 31: Suggestions

2008-02-11T10:53:00.000-08:00

So, I feel a little stagnate. This once a day blogging isn't really my style. If I am not inspired to write something, I find it very hard to come up with stuff to fill the void. So, I ask you, the reader, to offer some suggestions to inspire my blogs until my birthday at the end of the month. They can be one word suggestions, they can be the title of a song, or even a topic you would like to see covered (a particular TV show or perhaps my most embarrassing moment). Just drop the suggestion in the comment section of this post.

Also, I would like to share that this morning, at 7:32am, my ceiling caved in on my face with cold water and paint chips. It was an alarm of cascading waterfalls with slimy poop water and lead poisoning. I have been full of rage at my landlord all day. He hasn't returned my calls. I am filling out court papers today. I am at war with Mr. Perl. It's like World War II all over again, but this time, I want the Nazi's to win.

Suggestions please!

18 to 31: YouTube Sunday

2008-02-10T09:44:00.000-08:00

19 to 31: Reality

2008-02-09T06:49:00.000-08:00

Hey there boys and girls! I am a new contributor on "Blog the TV Hunter", a sassy blog that documents anything and everything reality TV. The debut of the 16th season of Survivor was my first entry. If you love reality TV or just love me writing about it, please check in at http://blogtvhunter.blogspot.com/ - you'll love it.

20 to 31: Pompous

2008-02-08T07:05:00.000-08:00

"We drove around and around and the driver just couldn't understand that you couldn't drive through the people. It's Chinese New Year for chrissakes alive, so we drove around and around some more like chickens with our heads cut off until I found a weak link in the armor of your security guards who finally let us in because I cant walk so well. I'm nearly 80 and I need to save my feet for parades and other social gatherings.

Can you put my hat somewhere nice? I don't like it in the closet. It's a spring hat and I really shouldn't be wearing it yet, but I keep hoping it becomes spring soon. Please make sure that my hat is not crushed or otherwise distressed. It's very pricey.

I assume these paintings are students work. Very good for a student. I was at the top of my class back in the day. My father sent me to live with relatives in France after graduation. The culture there was divine. The culture here in New York is a little to edgy, as the kids call it these days. I would just say 'trashy'. One big trash heap. I'm surprised that I still own my buildings in Manhattan. I should just sell them off and move back to France. The east side isn't what it used to be. If everyone acted a touch classier, this world would be a better place.

I'll have a medium temperature espresso, if you have it, otherwise, nothing."

21 to 31: Phoney

2008-02-07T07:37:00.000-08:00

This just happened at 10:40am.

ME: Good afternoon, President's Office.
CALLER: Afternoon? Come on, really?
ME: I'm sorry. Good morning, President's Office.
CALLER: Now that's better. You must not have had your coffee yet.
ME: I don't drink coffee. Can I help you?
CALLER: I hope so! You sound tired.
ME: Haha.
CALLER: Where did I just call again?
ME: The President's Office.
CALLER: Oh. For ConEd?
ME: No, this is the President's Office at (School Name).
CALLER: I'm sorry, wrong number.

Wrong number? Come on, really?

22 to 31: Jeff Awards

2008-02-06T06:39:00.000-08:00

Please leave a comment and vote for your favorites!

And the nominees for the 2008 Jeff Awards are....

BEST MOVIE
The Host
Knocked Up
Margot at the Wedding
Sicko
Superbad

SECOND BEST MOVIE
Harry Potter & Order of the Phoenix
Hot Fuzz
Juno
Ratatouille
Zodiac

BEST ACTOR
Christian Bale – Rescue Dawn
Michael Cera – Superbad
Ryan Gosling - Lars and the Real Girl
Seth Rogen – Knocked Up
Steve Zahn – Rescue Dawn

BEST ACTRESS
Amy Adams - Enchanted
Julie Christie – Away From Her
Angelina Jolie – A Mighty Heart
Nicole Kidman – Margot at the Wedding
Ellen Page – Juno

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
Javier Bardem – No Country for Old Men
Robert Downey Jr. – Zodiac
Ben Foster – Alpha Dog/30 Days of Night
Heath Ledger – I’m Not There
Justin Timberlake – Alpha Dog

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Helena Bohnam-Carter – Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Cate Blanchett – I’m Not There
Jennifer Gardner – Juno
Jennifer Jason Leigh - Margot at the Wedding
Amy Ryan – Gone Baby Gone

BEST DIRECTOR
Noah Baumbach – Margot at the Wedding
Joel and Ethan Coen – No Country for Old Men
David Fincher – Zodiac
Bong Joon-ho – The Host
Sarah Polley – Away From Her

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Judd Apatow - Knocked Up
Noah Baumbach - Margot at the Wedding
Diablo Colby - Juno
Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg - Superbad
Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg - Hot Fuzz

PRETTIEST LOOKING MOVIE
Across the Universe
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
No Country for Old Men
Sweeny Todd The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Zodiac

BEST SOUNDTRACK OR SCORE
Atonement
I'm Not There
Juno
Superbad
There Will Be Blood

HOTTEST HOTTIE
Jake Gyllenhaal – Zodiac
Zac Efron - Hairspray
Chris Evans – Fantastic Four 2
Daniel Radcliffe – Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Justin Timberlake - Alpha Dog

SECOND HOTTEST HOTTIE
Joseph Gordon-Levitt - The Lookout
Emile Hirsch - Into the Wild
Shia LaBouf – The Transformers Movie
Justin Long – Live Free or Die Hard
Seth Rogen - Knocked Up

BEST BAD GUY
Javier Bardem – No Country for Old Men
Blackout – The Transformers Movie
Ben Foster – 30 Days of Night
The Host – The Host
Danny Huston – 30 Days of Night

GAYEST TITLE
Black Snake Moan
Daddy Day Camp
I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry
Mr. Woodcock
Race You to the Bottom

WORST MOVIE I SAW
Evan Almighty
National Treasure 2: The Book of Secrets
Redacted

WORST MOVIE I DIDN'T HAVE TO SEE
Because I Said So
Daddy Day Camp
Good Luck Chuck
I Know Who Killed Me
Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium

STOP NOMINATING ME
Cate Blanchett
Daniel Day-Lewis
Philip Seymour Hoffman
Movies that look like 'Atonement'
Songs from 'Enchanted'

Leave a comment and vote! Vote or Die!

23 to 31: Apologies

2008-02-05T06:59:00.000-08:00

Walking down Myrtle Street on my way home in Brooklyn, it is not uncommon to be stopped by three or four people for various reasons. Kids selling candy bars, church moms spreading the word of Christ, Chinese guys handing out menus for cheap Chinese food, and my least favorite - homeless people asking for money.

I had just got off work where I had been subjected to a full day of OLS (Old Lady Syndrome) from the nasty hag with whom I share workspace. After doing some grocery shopping, I made a call to my friend, Cody, to complain about my ass-clown landlord, Mr. Perl. Some smelly dude got too close to my face and asked me for change. I ignored him and kept walking. A few blocks later, an average looking lady in an above average hat stopped me, pointed over her shoulder, and said, "Excuse me..."

An angry beast within my soul reached out and yelled, "I'M ON THE PHONE, ARE YOU SERIOUS?" I walked away and continued my phone call, leaving her standing by a bus stop. It wasn't long before I realized that she was just asking for directions. I am sure of it. I had seen her eyes right after I yelled at her and they were full of sadness, hurt and frustration. She was just about to ask a nice looking stranger for directions and I became an angry, white, fat, ugly faggot, barking in the face of a black lady who may or may not have been asking for change or directions. I caught myself contributing to my own stereotype and cementing that thought to a lost 40-something black lady in Brooklyn.

I was depressed the rest of the night, wishing that I could go back to the scene of the crime and apologize. Even watching all the hotties on 'Prison Break' didn't help get my mind off of it. I cried in my room, full of holes and peeled paint. Not a bunch of tears, just enough to know that I had done something really wrong and I felt terrible. I couldn't shake the look in her eyes, they were burned in my heart. I downloaded some new shit on iTunes and felt a little better.

Excuse me, average looking lady in an above average hat. I hope you found which way you were trying to go. Everyone gets lost sometimes and I am sorry that I didn't help you find your way. Sorry for immediately judging you and immediately being annoyed at the sound of your voice. There is no excuse to act that way, even if I was having a bad day. Again, I apologize and if you ever need help of any sort in the future, please do not hesitate to ask. Have a good day!

I think I am supposed to feel better, but I don't.

24 to 31: War

2008-02-04T10:22:00.000-08:00

This weekend, my A-hole landlord told me that he doesn't have to fix anything in my apartment because he just spent $7,000 on a new boiler - a boiler that should have been replaced 19 years ago, and was only replaced this winter because our entire building had called the city to force him to turn on the heat. What a freak. I mentioned my ruined mattress, the 4 holes in my wall, the rapidly expanding hole in my ceiling, radiator leaks, faucet leaks, shower head leaks, bathtub leaks, exposed electrical wiring, rotted floorboards, an electrical fire in my wall and the fact that we spent money on space heaters back in November and I asked if he was responsible for reimbursement of a portion of the electric bill. He said that he will not renew my lease because I complain too much. I dropped my nice-guy act that I had been using with him all along and told him that I will be pressing the issue of these complaints. He flipped out.

I am positive he put a hex on me. I couldn't understand a word he was saying. Hebrew curse words sound funny so I laughed at him. He told me to expect to move out on September 1st and that I should go to court if I want everything fixed in my house.

Sounds like a dare to me.

What a complete d-bag! I will not be bullied! He must have mistaken me for someone who backs down when it seems too hard to fight. So today, I have spent all morning doing research online regarding NYC Rental Rights. I am nearly an expert on this matter now and I will have my day in court and he will definitely lose. I have pictures, receipts, 311 complaint records, and very, very fierce tenacity. In just the past 20 minutes, I have been able to find that he has 44 open violations still pending, dating back to 2004, on record with the city.

Ante up, Mr. Perl. You're asking me to call your bluff. Game on.

Game on.

25 to 31: Youtube Sunday

2008-02-03T08:41:00.001-08:00

26 to 31: Tori

2008-02-02T06:05:00.000-08:00

I'm not going to blog about how I came home from work last night and the hole in my ceiling was twice as big and my mattress and new comforter were completely drenched...again. I'm not going to write about how, after a deep breath, I punched the wall and started crying... and I am certainly not going to write about how I kicked the radiator and hurt my foot. To calm down, I made a list. I will share that list with you instead.

TORI AMOS DREAM CONCERT SET LIST*

Cornflake Girl
Tear In You Hand
Putting the Damage On
Iieee
Ireland
Silent All These Years
Winter
Hey Jupiter
In the Springtime of His Voodoo
Big Wheel
Raspberry Swirl
Pretty Good Year
I Don't Like Mondays
Amber Waves
Take to the Sky
Almost Rosey
Programmable Soda
Professional Widow
Mrs. Jesus
She's Your Cocaine
Sweet Dreams
Taxi Ride
'97 Bonnie and Clyde
Gimme More (cover of Britney Spears but instead of saying, "It's Britney, bitch" at the beginning, she says, "It's Tori, bitch")
Little Amsterdam
God

ENCORE
Happy Phantom
The Waitress
Precious Things

OK. I feel 8 percent better now. Thanks OCD listmaking!

* Based on two hour time limit

27 to 31: Harassment

2008-02-01T11:04:00.000-08:00

I was late to my sexual harassment seminar because I was having sex.

That was the cute little line I had planned for the blog this morning, but Like-Like ended up going home a little earlier than anticipated. I was fine with it though, I think I have decided to save myself for marriage.

Instead, I was late because our landlord is a douchebag. We have had severe heating and electrical problems since the end of November. Leaky radiators, holes in my wall, exposed wiring, electrical fires inside my wall, water falling from the ceiling and ruining my bed, floorboards rotting, etc, etc, motherfucking etc.... this time around, we haven't had heat for two days and this morning, in the middle of my tepid shower, the electricity went out.

Immediate rage.

Brian wrote a detailed account of this morning. I didn't have time to do that because I had to sit in an HR sponsored training session - "Harassment: There Are No Real Winners". During a portion of the training that told us that stereotypes are untrue, I couldn't help but want to disagree, but that would make me a horrible person. It's very hard to remain neutral with people who bring stereotypes to life - like my cheap-ass Jewish landlord who refuses to fix the heat, electricity, or holes in my walls and always has a line of bullshit to tell you about why he can't fix it right that moment. Spend the money and fix it for fuckssakes!

Now excuse me, I'm going to dress up in drag and smoke some tina.

28 to 31: Feisty

2008-01-31T07:02:00.000-08:00

Sophia: how was the date with Like-Like
me: wellllll
he called right after i got off work at 5pm to say he forgot that he had plans with some lesbians, but then he called me at like 7pm to be like "what are you up to? come meet me" but i was already in my PJs
so he called me again at like 9pm and we chatted for awhile
and he's coming over tonight to watch reality tv and we're gonna make dinner
Sophia: nice!
well at least it wasnt a blow off
me: no it wasnt
and i love that he called me while he was out with his lesbians
Sophia: be careful
no one likes a cling on
me: HA
i dont get that vibe
Klingons
wasnt that star trek or something
star wars
Sophia: god knows
Sent at 9:04 PM on Thursday
Sophia: i think Fiest was on my train this morning
but i dont know
im looking at a pic now and it looked like her
but she looks like 80% of the females in nyc
me: but she's canadian
Sophia: she got on the A train at 145
me: why would she be up there?
Sophia: to be cool
me: i hope she writes a song about it
Sophia: me too
Sent at 9:37 PM on Thursday
me: WOW feist really does look like 80% of females in nyc
Sophia: RIGHT?!
she was with a young couple
they were chatting
me: i would imagine feist chats alot
Sophia: the guy she was with looked like gay nick from project runway
the girl was biracial
me: those are definitely types that would be chatting with feist
Sophia: i know
i totally saw feist today

29 to 31: Ponies

2008-01-30T06:28:00.000-08:00

I had to give negative feedback to an ebay seller today. Here is a copy of what I wrote in my complaint to the seller on the Paypal Resolution Center. I am sure it is somebody's job to review this at Paypal and I am sure they are judging me.

"I have never received the My Little Pony TV Tray. Also, I haven't heard any replies to my emails regarding this issue. I am sad. I love My Little Pony, but it seems that it is not "Mine" yet. It is still Your Little Pony. Please give me the tray or my money back. Thank you!"

Instead of cake, I am going to have a cotton candy machine at my birthday party.

30 to 31: Chromeo

2008-01-29T08:30:00.000-08:00

Getting drunk on a Monday is lame. I am officially old now.

Last night I had a full evening of plans. Usually Monday nights are my laundry-stay-at-home night, but I packed in two Friday nights into one, little Monday. I met up with a dude I've been hanging out with right after work. I don't have a clever nickname for this guy because I think I actually might like-like this one. Hmm. Maybe I'll call him Like-Like. So I met up with Like-Like at Forbidden Planet, a giant comic book store. Like-Like loves "graphic novels" and it was actually very fun walking through this explosion of superheroes, animation, and action figures. I bought a tiny little Winnie the Pooh who was dressed up inside a glue bottle. I really wanted to buy some weird Japanese shit, but it was too expensive.

We slowly fell in like-like with each other over some chimichangas. Conversation whizzed by and as soon as we finished 4 or 5 margaritas (I honestly can't remember) I had to go to meet up with The Straights because we were going to see Chromeo in concert. The studly latino waiter brought our check and some free dessert shots of something he called "La Cucaracha". Like-Like and I sort of stumbled/glided into the street where he went in for an after dinner kiss. Adorable.

I was in a pretty dope mood when I met up with The Straights. "Another round on me!" Perhaps I yelled it a little too faggy in the nearly empty bar because I caught a few sideways glances. Whatever. Two hot (almost) lesbians were making out in the corner, then started working on what appeared to be homework on their laptops. OK, fine, do your homework in a bar.

A few more rounds into our Chromeo pre-game, Sophia asked about the tickets. Jon immediately deflated. He had left them at work. We thought he was joking at first, but it turned out he was not. Instead, we played Scatergories and Connect 4. Thank god that bar had board games otherwise the night would have been ruined. We laughed and drank and made fun of the stupid bartender. When we were getting ready to walk out, the lesbians came up to us and wanted to play Connect 4. Sure, why not. It's only 11:00pm on a fucking Monday! So another round of booze, of course. A fresh Captain and Coke appeared in front of me like magic. We all got to chatting and I find out the lesbians are from The OC! Crazy! They grew up in Huntington Beach! Weird! They went to my high school! SHUT THE DOOR! GET OUT OF TOWN!

The Straights and I got a falafel. Jon said one of the lesbians looked like Paris Hilton. Sophia disagreed and threw my baklava in the garbage. I don't know why she did it. I didn't think the lesbian looked like Paris Hilton, but I was laughing and we were hammered so that made me guilty. I dug my baklava out of the garbage and ate it anyway.

Wow. I can't believe I am gonna be 31.

31 to 31: Blood

2008-01-28T13:31:00.000-08:00

There will be 31 days between now and my 31st birthday. There will be a scavenger hunt and party. 'There Will Be Blood' was an overrated piece of sparkling poop.

Daniel Day Lewis was amazing in the role of some mean oil guy who no one cared about. He was really, really awesome. Paul Dano, who was the teenager guy who refused to talk in 'Little Miss Sunshine', was outstanding and held his own on screen with The Method Acting Tornado. Paul Thomas Anderson directs with evident greatness, the film's score was deeply engaging, gorgeous cinematography really brought to life the hazards of drilling for oil in the great outdoors, detailed costuming, gritty art direction, a cornucopia of movie triumphs.... SO WHY DIDN'T I FUCKING CARE ABOUT IT AT ALL!

Seriously, this movie sucked the life out of me. Booooring. I can't put my movie expert finger on it, but this Best Picture nominated film was poopy. Who did I care about? What was I invested in? Why was I watching? Even the actor who played DDL's deaf son looked bored! This movie is generally just a character essay on film. Daniel Day Lewis can certainly act. He's awesometown, I get it. Whatever, snoozefest. Yawwwn.

I wish I could have just seen the baptism scene and the last scene in the bowling alley. I would have taken all the time I saved and went and saw 'Juno' again.

I am going to try to do daily blogs between now and my b-day. TRY.

YouTube Sunday!

2008-01-27T08:29:00.000-08:00

I've decided to do a once a week contribution where I post my favorite video I find on youtube that week. Today, I was watching a bunch of videos about Obama and gay rights, and somehow, I ended up here...

Flipping through his other videos was pretty choice too. My favorite sound byte was his advice to viewers after he returned from a brief camping trip... "Don't ever go camping for more than two days unless you are like, really, really into that stuff."

Karma Police

2008-01-23T13:54:00.000-08:00

Remember that old bitch who always riles me up at work? The one whose extreme negative energy infects my soul 40 hours a week? Her loud chewing noises stab me in my ears and in my heart? Well, I walked out of the restroom earlier yesterday afternoon to the sound of her crying. It was awesome! I didn't know why and I didn't care at the moment, but I instinctively found great delight in her blubbering. I felt bad right away when I found out that her sister was just diagnosed with breast cancer. So, in order for the universe to be fair and balanced, I came home after work to find a large, wet, stinky hole in my ceiling... right above my bed.

The hole itself wasn't as bad as having a completely soaked through mattress, dripping from top to bottom. My blankets and pillows were drenched. The ying and yang was restored quickly. I made a promise to whatever spiritual god-like diety thing that exists that I would be a good person from here on out. Now, I sort of know what it feels like to have a period bed only alot more wetness and not as vagina-ey.

The Poconos

2008-01-22T12:56:00.000-08:00

This past weekend I returned to the farm in The Poconos. Country life is nice and relaxing, but I couldn't imagine living there full time. It's like you go into a vortex of time and space - lunchtime feels like dinnertime and the moon comes out at noon. If I was a lazy, unmotivated, country teen, I would be very bored in the middle of Hicktown. I can very easily see how someone would develop some sort of drug or alcohol problem because what else is there to do? Watch popcorn pop....

Luckily we didn't have to become country meth heads all weekend. There was plenty to do besides watching popcorn pop. Sophia hosted a murder mystery game, we put together puzzles, read books, dressed up in costumes, played in the snow, took editorial photo series, had a scavenger hunt, went thrift store shopping, grocery shopping, cooked giant meals, made arts and crafts, played with dolls, listened to every song in my iTunes, and told stories. No need to create a meth lab with this creative group of geniuses!

Below you will find a series of photos along with favorite quotes throughout the weekend. I can't explain everything for you, just take in all the randomness and enjoy!

We went grocery shopping in a small town store. It was eerily silent and my booming voice could be heard everywhere. I didn't mean to cause such a scene, but it's not every day that these hicks see a group of hip, young, New Yorkers in their sleepy little grocery store. Maybe the constant video taping I was doing was a little much. The store had homemade pierogis, which was a total bonus. The cashier looked like she was 9 years old and everywhere whispered to each other as I walked past them. It wasn't like I was screaming and yelling and dressed in drag. Now, THAT would be exciting! Maybe not as exciting as getting punched in the mouth during the scavenger hunt that I made...

The only television we watched was some big deal football game. The Straights tried to trick me into liking football. Sophia kept telling me how hot the dudes are in the uniforms. I don't have to sit through an entire game for that! I can look at pictures on the internet, and if I am looking at pictures on the internet, it's going to be of Brent Corrigan, not some football player in a lame uniform. The end of the game almost tricked me into being excited. There was a tie and a flip of the coin and alot of yelling from freezing fans in the stadium. Jon tried to explain what was happening in the game, but no matter how much it looked exciting, I still didn't care. Boooring. I was more excited to go out in the snowy field where a creepy truck was marooned in a patch of overgrown weeds and trees. The gays went out for a stroll in the 18 degree weather and we did a photo shoot.

I made breakfast every morning for everyone because I am awesome and also because I was hungry and love breakfast and no one else was making it. Jon fried up the homemade pierogis for lunch. It was fascinating. One of the high points of the weekend came when The Straights, The Other Straights and "Mary" finished the wizard puzzle. I wasn't emotionally invested into the puzzle like they were, but I was very happy for them when I heard them congratulatory scream from the next room. Whether I was laughing at Sophia in a shitty wig and giggling at the refridgerator or pretending I was a bartender in the basement bar, every minute of time was well spent and well relaxed. Thank you, Martin Luther King Jr. for the three day weekend!

Here are my two favorite pictures from this weekend... one is a candid shot of The Straights that I captured. Jon told me I was "a regular Annie Leibovitz." The other is of me and my roommate, Brian.

Oh yeah. All weekend I kept taking pictures of myself. Everyone laughed at me like I was an idiot. Well, tell me if this last slideshow is the work of an idiot...

Yes.

Gay Day

2008-01-18T07:07:00.000-08:00

This weekend is a three day weekend in honor of Martin Luther King Jr. I have decided to celebrate by taking a trip to The Poconos and quietly reflect on all the positive contributions that African-Americans have made to this fine nation. While silently meditating in front of a country fire, I will look out the window at the magical snowfall and ponder how each unique snowflake represents each unique African-American - a blizzard of Spike Lee's, a flurry of Mary J. Blige's, an avalanche of Obama's.

We get nationally recognized holidays for all sorts of reasons - President's Day, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, Arbor Day, Cesar Chavez Day (I actually had this day off in California, apparently there aren't enough Mexicans in NYC for me to score this day off) - and I got to thinking, what if we had a Gay Day? Yes, Disneyland plays host to an unofficial Gay Day where faggy, little 16 year-olds go to make out in the Haunted Mansion or see what it feels like to ride Space Mountain on two hits of ecstasy, but that doesn't count. I mean, if we have a holiday for planting trees, then we should certainly have a Gay Day! I don't mean a Gay Pride parade or festival, I mean an actual day where I get to not go to work because I am honoring my heritage.

Here are some possible suggestions and names for Gay Day.

Gay Day on January 2nd - The day after New Year's Day can be a great additional recovery period. Many gays love to get all cranked up on meth and fuck each other, so this would be nice to just extend the winter break an extra day.

Gay Day on February 15th - Even if a gay person is in a relationship, often they have promiscuous sex, even on Valentine's Day. Vday it's perfect for threesomes! Again, this would be used as a nice recovery day. Maybe see a movie together if the guy the couple picked up the night before is out of the house in time.

Queen Day on March 18th - It's Queen Latifah's birthday AND the day after St. Patrick's Day. Being Irish and gay, I would really appreciate this one.

Elton John Day on March 25th - That's his birthday, but he's not American, so I don't know if that would work out.

Mayday! Gayday! on May 1st - It's fun to rhyme stuff. Gays like to rhyme.

Stonewall Day on June 28th - This would be in honor of the Stonewall riots in the west village in 1969. A turning point for gay rights.

Matthew Shepard Day on October 12th - The anniversary of his death to remind everyone, gay or straight, that hate crimes still exist and that innocent people shouldn't be murdered by the hands of ignorant assholes just because they like a nice cock up their butt.

All Taint's Day - November 1st. Again, a great recovery day from Halloween, but it is already All Saint's Day. I figured if you just make a fun play on words, it makes it a gay holiday anyway.

Gay Vacay Day on the Monday after Thanksgiving Weekend - This would be great so I can extend my vacations. I recently developed a new tradition where I travel somewhere new and exciting every year with My Gays. Last year it was New Orleans, this year hasn't been decided, but I know I won't be in the office on Monday morning regardless.

I thought about celebrating it on my birthday, but I call in gay for that. Hmm, maybe instead of using my sick hours to call in gay, I should be afforded actual gay hours. Let's get the ball rolling on this, people!

7 Movie Reviews!!!

2008-01-15T07:03:00.000-08:00

National Treasure 2: The Book of Secrets

This unfortunate viewing happened only because I saw a double feature with my friend, Cody Melton. I use his full name, because I want him to feel the weight of his actions, of which I am exposing. Cody Melton insisted that we see this piece of cat shit film. I hesitate to use the word 'film'; I think I will call it a 'flim'. Fuck Nicholas Cage. Fuck Jon Voight. Please, someone, rescue poor Helen Mirren from this awful flim! I had not seen the first one, and was worried I wouldn't be up to speed on what was happening in the sequel. No reason to fear that, this movie spoke to the audience like we were 8 years old. The "clues" that these "characters" had to "solve" and "follow" didn't even make any sense. So forced, so lame, so mad at Cody Melton. I want 91 minutes of my life back.

Sweeney Todd

This was the trade for sitting through goddamn 'National Treasure'. First off, I liked Tim Burton's 'Todd'. That said, if I was a musical purist, I would be pissed. Helena Bonham-Carter is lovely and I adore her, but she just wasn't right for the role of Mrs. Lovett. Johnny Depp is a fantastic actor, but he just doesn't have the singing chops for the part of Sweeney Todd. The role of Toby was cast too young, the brilliantly complex layers of score and melody didn't shine as they should, and several musical numbers were either cut short or left out entirely (my guess is because they were too hard for the cast to sing). I was happy to see Claire Danes playing the role of Anthony Hope. Don't try to tell me they don't look exactly the same.

I'm Not There

Booooorrrrrrring. I don't care how awesome Cate Blanchett is as one part of six pieces of Bob Dylan. I don't care how artistically stylized Todd Haynes's direction is in showing us six pieces of Bob Dylan. I don't care that Heath Ledger and Christian Bale, as hot and awesome of actors as they are, make worthy contributions to two of six pieces of Bob Dylan. I need to care about Bob Dylan in the first place. I also need to have functional knowledge of Bob Dylan throughout his career to decipher what the fuck is going on in this deeply textured (perhaps too deep) film essay on the life of an undoubtedly great musician. By the time Richard Gere showed up on screen, I had forgotten what I was supposed to be watching. I felt like I was lost, like I... wasn't even there. 'I'm Not There' was two hours of flatness and made me feel stupid for 'not getting it'....whatever 'it' was.

No Country For Old Men

Joel and Ethan Coen have a beautifully shot little sparkplug of a western on their hands. Gorgeous cinematography and art direction. I haven't read the book that it was adapted from, but if I had, I would probably say something like, "they really captured the essence of the book on film through a skilled adaptation and the art of moving pictures." The story of a creepy madman in pursuit of his money and drugs across a Texan backdrop draws you in and keeps you interested the entire time, especially when he uses some weird, air powered contraption to shoot people that was reminiscent of something Dennis Hopper would have used in 'Blue Velvet'. I hope Javier Bardem has cleared off a space on his mantle for his upcoming Oscar win.

Before The Devil Knows You're Dead

Ethan Hawke and Phillip Seymour Hoffman head up an extraordinary cast about a pair of brothers who set out to rob their parent's jewelry store. The story elements were all there for me to want to like this movie, but something about the heavy direction was very hard to watch. It wasn't hard to watch as in too gory or too sad or too painful, it was hard to watch as in too dense and slowly paced, as in my eyeballs had a hard time looking at the screen. Weird time dashes, and not like in a groovy 'Pulp Fiction' sort of way, more of like a my head accidentally got caught in a blender for a moment sort of way. Never has such firm and evident directing been so off-putting to me. Sorry, Sidney Lumet. Weird original score too. Sorry, whoever wrote the score.

Juno

Whoever thought this was going to be another 'Superbad' just because Michael Cera was in it, were probably disappointed. As a movie, I think it's decently good, but as a star making vehicle for the sassy little frassy, Ellen Page, it's amazing. The script offers a delightful character for this 20 year-old actress to tear through. She plays a harshly quirky high school girl who finds herself pregnant and giving her baby away for adoption. Allison Janney and Jennifer Gardner offer up some outstanding support performances as well. If you don't have the soundtrack for this movie yet, you are missing out. Kimya Dawson is an odd folk singer who greatly colors this film.

Margot at the Wedding

Terrific! This just might be my favorite movie all year. Excellent script by 'The Squid and the Whale' writer/director Noah Baumbach. Amazingly sarcastic tone throughout the entire film that stays grounded in reality. Margot (Nicole Kidman) arrives at her estranged sister's (Jennifer Jason Leigh) house in order to help prepare for her wedding to an overgrown shlub (Jack Black). Baumbach really nails the tense family hostility and their comic jabs at each other. The pacing, dialogue, and spirit is dark perfection. I giggled with familial familiarity from beginning to end. Bravo! Incidentally, my friend, Cody Melton, hated this movie. I can't wait until the sequel "Margot at the Wedding 2: Margot at the Funeral of Secrets"...you bet I will force him to watch it with me.

Mouse in the House

2008-01-13T11:20:00.001-08:00

Brian and I have noticed that we have a small guest in our house the last couple weeks. The mouse has eaten my Trader Joe's wheat bread, my pita's, and my hamburger buns. He has totally carbed out in our kitchen! Apparently, the mouse has flying powers, because he has been on top of the 'fridge, on the microwave, and our wine shelf. He's everywhere! I left the package of eaten hamburger buns on top of the 'fridge in hopes of setting traps and catching him one night. Well, we didn't have to wait that long, because this morning, while I was watching 'Ugly Betty', I heard the tiny, baby mouse chewing threw the buns. I yelled for Brian to help and I ran and grabbed the camera. I guess that makes Brian the man of the house.

There are two very clear shots of the mouse. One, right after Brian bashes the shit out of it and it falls against the wall down to the floor. The other is once we get it outside you can see it run on our steps and try to get back inside!

Also, my laugh doesn't usually sound that gay.

Boy Crazy

2008-01-12T07:42:00.000-08:00

Well, it's official. I'm boy crazy. I'm Rizzo and Sandy from 'Grease' all rolled into one. Over the last few months, I have slowly been introducing myself to the active dating scene here in NYC. I cut the emotional strings with ex-friend-crush-person, and signed up for various dating sites and have even been more forward in bars towards dudes that caught my eye. My game needs a little polishing, but I seem to be more popular with the boys than I originally expected. While there have been several boys popping up on the radar, here is a brief overview of the more interesting bros.

Towel Boy - 34, invited me to go nude camping with a group of sporty bears. I declined. The second time we ever met up, he was wearing a beach towel as a skirt in the bar. It was funny, weird, and sexy all at once. He got drunk and made out with a lesbian at my house warming party. Cute enough, but we weren't moving beyond the great sexual connection.

Booze Hound - 27, very cute cub who loves his cocktails. Great sense of humor and appreciates reality TV. I do like a guy who can hang at bars and throw down a few, but this guy can drink me under the table. We also seem to have great sexual energy, but I am looking for more versatility in the bedroom and this guy seems like a pretty hungry bottom.

The Cartoonist - 23, adorable and rude, but in a funny way. He does comics for different publications, including The New Yorker. He has a very Oscar Wilde-y vibe - dandy and droll. He can turn a phrase like Capote, his tongue a vicious whip. Ultimately, he was a little too mean and young for my tastes.

Black Guy - 35, nice guy who is partnered with a white guy who is quite often out of town. Great conversationalist and I love how his West Village apartment is decorated. He is the perfect definition of 'Fuck Buddy' - no emotional investment, cool vibe, and versatile, freaky, black-people sex. Seriously, I didn't think I would love black dick, but after living here for almost five years, I had to try it at some point. He has a ugly/cute bulldog named 'Rosie' who loves me.

Fake Hipster - 29, hottest of the bunch and makes me feel like I am dipping into a different class of dudes who may be a touch out of my league. We've only gone out twice, but I likey this one a ton. He plays the clarinet and saxaphone. He is openly scared about turning 30 in a couple months an I think that's cute. He also owns seasons 1 AND 2 of 'The OC'.

Last night, I met up with a new prospect, Mr. Missouri. He was cute, funny, and totally called me out on a certain, um, indiscretion. I was wearing a cute Kangol hat and a scarf. He was like, "nice hat, what, are you balding or something?" HAHAHA! I took it off and was like, "well a little thinning, but nothing serious, I just like the hat!" We laughed, then he asked about the scarf, "you're probably covering up a hickey". BUSTED. I tried to tell him that I burned myself with my curling iron, but he wasn't going for it. I actually did have a fucking hickey.

Booze Hound has a bad habit of doing that to me. He also screams out 'daddy' a little to seriously realistic for my tastes. I am now That-Guy- Who-Shows-Up-To-A-Date-With-A-Hickey-From-Another-Dude. Luckily, both Mr. Missouri and I thought it was hilarious and we had a sweet little first date. He just moved here 12 days ago and is in the middle of finding work and a place to live and all that NYC Newbie shit. He is a singer too. We're going to the movies Sunday.

This sounds cliche, but... dating is so weird.

My Nooner

2008-01-11T12:36:00.000-08:00

My shoes and socks are drenched. I have swamp foot. My entire lower half of my body is wet, and not in a good way. I fell in a giant puddle. It was raining cats and dragons today and I was one of the storm's victims. Now I know how Katrina survivors feel. It serves me right, though, for lying.

Today, I made plans with Booze Hound for what he called "a nooner". This would also be known as an "Afternoon Delight" or "quickie on your lunch break" in layman's terms. I work extremely close to where I live, so I thought it would be a fun to see what it's like to rush home, take off my tie, and dump a load. I lied to my office and said that I had to go home and "let the guys who are there to fix the radiator in the apartment".

Before I left, I had this amazing IM conversation with my friend on gchat.

me: i have an afternoon delight planned today
Nick: whats that
me: sex date at lunchtime
Nick: hes coming to your work?
me: no, home
i live close
Nick: are you guys eating lunch together?
me: nope
Nick: well when will you have lunch?
me: i dont know! i hadn't thought of that
Nick: maybe you should have a snack before you go then
me: maybe
Nick: won't you be hungry?
me: maybe, i'll eat something quick at home
Nick: one time, in college, i met this guy
nevermind, its stupid
me: no! do tell! you can't start a story and not tell it
Nick: well i met this guy online and we had never talked before or anything. we met at the school library and sat across from each other at our computer desks. we emailed each other back and forth commanding each other to do stuff like 'roll up your sleeves' or 'cough three times'
it was hot
and it was nice that it was at a school library because it was clean and sexy, not like a city library or anything
me: omg i love it
Nick: then he would go look for books in an aisle and i would start looking for books next to him and we would just sort of start touching each other
me: you're killing me, im dying
Nick: well this whole afternoon delight thing reminds me of that
me: this may be all i think about now during it
Nick: eat a snack first

I failed to eat a snack first and after the delight was finished, the sky had opened up and began creating huge puddles in the streets. Booze Hound ran to the subway, while I tried to gingerly hop across the forming rivers. It was the hardest rain I've seen in a long time. I was drenched in seconds, even with my water resistant jacket and umbrella ella ella.

At one point, there was an enormous puddle that covered the sidewalk. You couldn't walk around it unless you walked in the street. I was very nervous of passing cars (I notice I tend to be jumpy in and around cars ever since The Crash) so while I was walking forward, I kept looking over my shoulder, for safety reasons. I slipped and fell in the puddle I was trying to avoid. Soaked from my waist to my toes. Shoes ruined. I almost started crying, but that would make me a bitch, so I didn't, instead I whined, "Moooommmmmy" out loud and to no one. My cell phone was wet, my wallet was wet, my underwear was wet, my dick was wet, again, and the fact that I was still holding my umbrella ella ella seemed ludicrous. I trudged back into my office, super late from my break, and sat, dripping wet, at my desk.

I'm hungry.

I Love Kid's TV These Days

2008-01-10T19:40:00.001-08:00

iTunes Customer Reviews

2008-01-07T21:08:00.000-08:00

Tonight, as I was snorting up more downloads on iTunes, my favorite addiction, I stumbled upon the greatest customer review ever. It was the first review posted to the album "Black Sheep Boy" by Okkervil River - a sad sounding, but melodic indie band that might have been on the Garden State soundtrack had it been released a few years earlier.

"So egotistical (five stars)
by Boujey

I am a self-important hedge fund administrator who is way too busy to write at length about what a fantastic album this is...but I thought I should write a few words, then shift focus back onto how awesome my life is. Out of the 17,000 songs that I own, at least 8 of these are in my top 1,500, which is utterly impressive statistically. I enjoy listening to it with a nice '57 scotch, overlooking the ocean from my vacation home in St. Tropez."

I downloaded all three of Okkervil River's albums.

Webmd

2008-01-06T09:47:00.000-08:00

I have had an ongoing issue with my left eye for about two months. It burns, itches, and has a slight, watery discharge, like tears, not pus, and occasionally I wake up with crusted over eyelids. A real life nurse looked at it and told me it was not pink eye. Hmm. I looked at www.webmd.com to see what they had to say, and if I were a hypochondriac, this site would kill me. I would never leave my house.

According to webmd, I either have Lyme Disease or Bird Flu. At least I have it narrowed down.

2000 Great!

2008-01-01T21:50:00.000-08:00

"This is gonna be my year!"
- Jeffrey Marx, January 1st, 2007

So, um, last year was basically stupid. I moved three times - from the West Village, to Harlem, to Brooklyn - acquiring a new ex-roommate enemy, I started talking to an old friend again only to realize that I still "liked him liked him" so now we aren't talking again, my improv team got disbanded at UCB, I ended up hating the show I wrote, the few guys I did date were either emotionally unavailable or wore towels as skirts to bars, my awesome gay therapist broke up with me, and I only lost 29 pounds on my 50 pound challenge.

So, today, I say that 2008 is REALLY going to be my year! It's time to start using The Secret, goddamnit! I am just going to start acting like I already have everything I want! Then, The Secret will align with the universe and give it to me anyway! Like magic! I can't wait! (I wonder if The Secret still works if I am, like, 20% sarcastic about it) Here is a list of things I want (lies) that I will be putting into the universe. You may be confused when I say, "I am late for an appointment with my commercial agent because my BMW had to be dropped off at the mechanics" because I don't have a commercial agent, BMW, or a mechanic. But, using The Secret, those lies (things I want) will come true if I just believe! Better yet, instead of a list of things I want, I will give you a list of things you might hear me say this year that are, upon first glance, untrue. However, I am just practicing the theories of The Secret.

1.) "My hot boyfriend's dick is so huge, I can barely take it! Sometimes we just like to cuddle and that is enough for us!"

2.) "The reading for my new play went extremely well. I am so glad that Paul Rudd was available at the last minute."

3.) "As a gay guy, selling my one man show was no problem. HBO and Showtime are having a bidding war over me right now!"

4.) "There's a new found respect for reality TV these days. Thank goodness I got that job as an executive producer for reality TV."

5.) "I can't decide if I want the polo shirt from Abercrombie & Fitch or the V-neck t-shirt from American Apparel, maybe I should buy both since I need a whole new wardrobe to go with my new body!"

6.) "Dry tuna and pita is extremely satisfying for lunch!"

7.) "That model for 2(x)ist underwear is undressing me with his eyes!"

8.) "Jake Gyllenhaal just came out of the closet!"

Anyway, no official resolutions this year. Just the promise to myself to be a better person, make better choices, and to stop downloading music I hear on 'The Hills'.

After my trip to California, it took 4 days of gluttonous tomfoolery to re-connect with myself. Dates, sex, parties, The Straights, and naked hipsters all helped me re-adjust. Here are the best pictures from New Year's Eve.

OK, so maybe those aren't the "best" pictures from New Year's Eve, but they are the only ones that I can publicly share on the interweb. Happy 2000 Great!

Last Day in Cali

2007-12-28T13:15:00.001-08:00

By the time I woke up the day after Christmas, I had decided that the next time I go to California will be because I have to go for some entertainment industry type of something or other. Lying coiled up in the pink blankets in The Princess Room, I realized that I only had about 26 hours left on the sun soaked West Coast, and that I wished I had a fast forward button on my life. Instead, I woke up, ate a tasty breakfast, packed my things, and headed out the door to see 'Juno' with my dad. It has become our tradition to see a movie every time I visit. It's great to have a new tradition with pops, but I loathe that the tradition is sitting in a dark room, watching actors do the talking instead of ourselves.

I had planned on going to lunch with him, but we ran out of time since he was dealing with an ebay issue all morning. Looking for an opportune time to speak to him about my daddy issues proved difficult since there is never an opportune time. He puts on a good show with each visit these days. I wish I could base my opinion of him solely off of his behavior when I see him once or twice a year. He's a blast when I am not thinking about...the past? Did I really just write that fucking sentence? Hop on Pop.

Anyway, while I was able to pull Sheree aside at one point early into my trip, before everything got too Jerry Springer, and apologize for punishing her ever since she was over-the-top rude to me on a certain occasion, I was unable to have a similar conversation toward amends with daddy dearest. I guess apologizing comes easier than forgiving.

After the sincerely enjoyable movie, we went to my great friend, Keith's, fancy bistro. For the past several years, I have hosted a holiday party called Spectacular Spectacular. It has been a huge, fun get-together for my friends and even some of my family. This year, I didn't really do the PR or the organization for it and no one really inquired. A good handful of my camp friends had dinner and after most of them left, Keith and I had some drinks. Daddy Dearest said goodbye with a hug and said, "Email me sometime, even if it's to say bark at the moon and die." The last time I did that, we didn't speak for a year and a half. What's the point? If he isn't willing to talk and I am not willing to forget, then that's a cat's game - no one wins. My mommy drove me, Keith and my other besty, Eric, to our other friend's house. 30 years old and my mommy is driving me to a party.

.... 30 years old and my mommy is driving me to a party to play Flip Cup. Living 3,000 miles away from people who used to be your closest friends really is sad. I miss them on a daily basis, but when I go "home", it seems that everyone has moved in different directions, people who used to be friends with each other are now enemies, and my tummy starts hurting. I dressed up as Santa again for a grand entrance. Danielle said, "I love when you come home, you bring such a great energy to the house!" In my mind, I wanna pick up right where we all left off, but sadly, that is not reality. I feel disconnected and I can see the same disconnection in the eyes of others. I am sure we all have deep love for each other and our past friendships, but not even a marathon game of Flip Cup, or a rented Santa costume, can patch up the distance I feel growing in my friends. Not even just with me, with each other. They are all great people, I wish everything was perfect. I wish I had a time machine. I wish for three more wishes.

I was only able to hang out for a couple hours before I had to have my mommy pick me up so I could get enough rest to get up and pack in the morning. Before I left, I was able to re-connect with a friend who hadn't been returning phone calls to me. We're both insane, so I knew it would end up working out without much discussion. Justin made me a mix CD, Mark hugged me, I grabbed Coco's boobs, Keith touched me in a naughty place, Danielle made me a fancy drink, and Amanda and I laughed at each other - a few moments of "how it used to be".

The next morning consisted of a rushed shower, a rushed packing job, and a rush to the airport. I had overslept. My mom always cries when we pull up to the "This zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only" area. This time was particularly tear drenched, because I had made it pretty clear I didn't plan on returning to California for some time. This time, I think she understood why.

The flights back to NYC weren't as awful as the trip out. An hour and a half delay in Cincinnati gave me some time to reflect. No matter how much I want everything to be perfect and harmonious, like my mom's dream of a Norman Rockwell Christmas, it's just not going to be perfect. The perfect part has to come from the inner acceptance that everything isn't perfect, that I should expect the imperfections... and laugh at them, to ride through the turbulence, and then life would be closer to perfect. Perfect. I just said "perfect", like, 100 times. Whatever. I don't care. I'm not perfect. Neither is my dad, or my crazy grandmother, or my friends who hate each other now.

Perfection is overrated. Imperfection is more interesting.

I'm fucking happy to be back home in New York.

Actual Christmas

2007-12-27T21:03:00.000-08:00

No strip clubs. My brother passed out at a friends house and Sheree begrudgingly went to pick his hungover ass up and visit our granny since she had decided that she wasn't going to go down to San Diego to my dad's house for Christmas. Once my mom's house was clear of people, my mom and I slept all day to catch up on the rest we lost out on from the shamble of the night before. Once my mom woke up in the afternoon, she was pissed. She was too tired before to have any emotion, and now she was angry and crying. Since it was clear to me another day had been ruined, I went to T.G.I.Friday's with my friends Maggie, Corey, and Taffy. Nothing cures familial dysfunction like a nice plate of jalepeno poppers with your family of friends.

The next day, my mom, her friend Renee, and I packed up the Saturn Vue and headed down to San Diego. My mom and Renee dropped off their stuff at a motel next to a Hooters and we met my brother, Sheree, my dad, my stepmom, and of course my adorably perfect niece, Madyson at El Torito. We went to dinner there for Christmas Eve because "tonight is a big deal for Mexican families to go out to dinner. El Torito will be open late." My brother and Sheree were on their best behavior - all smiles and laughter. My dad was an outgoing and likable personality. My mom and Renee promptly ordered margaritas. I followed suit and attached a rum and coke to my lips as to shield myself from the plastic vibe.

Dinner was full of the standard questions - "How is New York?", "Are you still liking your job?", "How's the theatre stuff going?", "Where are you living?", "Do you like it?", and the classic "When will you be moving back?" After our cheery dinner, the perfect couple packed up the toddler and went home to put her to bed. Thankfully, everyone had a nice coat of booze in them, so when the bitchfest immediately turned to the topic of my brother and Sheree, it was done in a lighter manner than the weight of the situation. At this point, I am so bored of the drama with the golden couple that I zoned out and started watching whatever football game was on the big screen TV in the bar...at a motherfucking El Torito... on Christmas Eve.

My stepmom went home to clean up the guest room, which has been dubbed 'The Princess Room' on account of the pink doilies, pink stuffed animals, and pictures of my niece with Disney princess picture frames. Naturally, I would be sleeping in this room. Now, there were only four people left at Christmas Eve dinner.

My dad loves to blame my mom's side of the family, The Hurleys, for any sort of angry fight that emerges throughout the years. "That's the Ol' Hurley Temper showing through!" He likes to contrast The Hurley's to The Marx's by saying how the Marx's are "peace, love, let it be... you don't see us hitting each other!" I am quick to interject on this subject - "I wouldn't say The Marx's are peace and love. They may not be physically hitting each other, but at least The Hurley's communicate in someway." We all agree that both sides of the family have a alcohol problem running through it and that possibly both sides have landed on my brother's face. I thank the gene pool for giving me the fun, gay genes and not the boring, straight, beer guzzling, bad relationship, Jerry Springer genes. Somehow, mention of my brother's neighbor comes up.

DAD: Some girl wants to have a threesome with your brother and Sheree.
ME: Yes. I heard all about it.
MOM: What?
DAD: Some neighbor girl keeps hitting on them.
MOM: What?
RENEE: Do you think Justin would do it?
ME: Of course, it's every straight guys fantasy to have two chicks.
MOM: Wait. What?
DAD: So, threesomes aren't a gay guys fantasy?
ME: Nope, that's just a regular Friday night.
MOM: I need another margarita.

Soon after, dad and I went to his house. Mom and Renee went to visit a local Marine bar to say 'Merry Christmas' and spread some holiday cheer before heading back to their motel. They asked me if I wanted to go to Hooters. Absolutely not. I want to go straight to my dad's house and go to sleep in 'The Princess Room'.

Waking up on Christmas morning at dad's was a new experience. Usually, I am at my mom's house, but since our entire family schedule had to be adjusted to Sheree's work schedule, we all fluctuated plans. I didn't care too much, but I know the change was an interesting difference for my mom. At least, she got out of having to drive my dad's sister and mother (my boozy aunt and racist granny) up from Orange County. Instead, my dad and I made the trip up there, since they were not coming down there. Granny is probably my least favorite family member. She is always negative, quick to judge, and very vocal about all her opinions on black people, mexicans, and gays. During my last visit, she told me how she used to be such a fan of Clay Aiken. She isn't anymore because "it's such a shame about him being gay. He used to be so talented." This is amazing to me, since, even though The Marx's refuse to talk about it, everyone knows I am gay! Hellloooo! She greeted me with the following exchange...

GRANNY: Merry Christmas! Look at how handsome you are!
ME: Thanks grandma. Merry Christmas!
GRANNY: You have any girlfriends yet?
ME: Now, why would I have a girlfriend?
GRANNY: I'm sure you have to just beat them off of you!
ME: Oh, I'm beating off, that's true.
GRANNY: You have so many girlfriends, I bet.
ME: Yup. They come over and we do each other's hair.

After that, I was particularly excited to give her my present. For her gift this Christmas, I framed this picture and told her it was my boyfriend. I also gave her a children's book on Martin Luther King Jr.

Let me just take a minute and dissect this wonderful piece of film. First, I love that she says "Who 'dis?" when she opens the box. Her blank stare directly at me after I reveal to her who 'dis' is more than I could have asked for. After a second and a half of stone silence in the room, my aunt puts something shiny in front of granny to shield her from the bomb I just dropped. Granny grasps immediately at the shiny distraction. The ho-hum conversation about the cute angel figurine provides the brilliant backdrop for my granny to grab another silent stare towards myself and dart a glance towards my father off camera before returning to the angel in her hand. Nothing else was ever said of the gift. My aunt pushed the book and the framed picture under the sofa.

Somehow, my aunt talked granny into coming down to San Diego for the rest of the day, even though granny complained that she didn't want to go. Now, my mom and stepmom, who try to hide from granny as much as possible, were in for a real surprise! Granny is coming after all! My dad, his sister, and his mom and I all packed up the PT Cruiser, harnessed the reindeer, and readied the huge sack of gifts to bring back to the unexpected. My aunt asked me about my recent trip to New Orleans for Thanksgiving and where I might go for next Thanksgiving. I told her my friends and I were trying to decide between Amsterdam and Berlin. When she asked me what the "selling points" were to each one, I said that "Berlin has cheap ecstasy, but Amsterdam has amazing pot." After that, the car ride got very long and very silent. As soon as we arrived to my dad's house, where everyone was waiting, I quickly changed into the Santa Claus outfit my mom had provided. It was nice to slip into a character in the midst of a family trying to hobble together a community theatre production of 'Christmas'.

I am not sure what my favorite part of this video is yet. It's either my mom trying to film it sideways or the fact that I just realized my stepmom has framed and mounted giant starfish on the walls of the living room. My brother dressed in an elf costume. I tried to talk him into wearing the green and red tights that went with it, but he refused. "It won't make you gay", I told him, but he still wouldn't do it. Instead, he wore red and green feather boas around his legs. Hmmm. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, I suppose. We tormented our granny again too.

Time for Crabfest 2007! We had giant crab legs for dinner along with a feast of different casseroles, tamales, and more rum. Every year we get to be subjected to a relentless diatribe about how much Sheree hates crab. "The smell makes me barf!", "I can't even look at it!", "That is sooo disgusting!" Seriously, shut up. We get it! You hate crab! You hate something that you never even tried! Message received! Now be quiet, for once, and let everyone else enjoy it! God, it's so hard to try to like her. Her mouth doesn't give you the opportunity and honestly, if this is an element of the annual holiday visit that is going to be consistent, I am gonna have to start doing alot harder drugs than just the pot cookies I brought. Instead, I took pictures at the dinner table with my awesome stepsister.

Oh yeah, at one point, I had to help my mom's friend Renee, who had passed out on the toilet. My mom and I were like a team of sorority sisters helping our pledge go lay down in The Princess Room. Renee's shoe fell off on the stairway and she exclaimed, "Oooh I am Cinderella!" I told her not to eat a whole cookie. Oh well.

After dinner, I hit up the makeshift wet bar my dad had set up on the washer and dryer. Nothing but the classiest for The Marx's! My mom had tapped out from Christmas two nights ago, so she took her thankless assignment of carting granny and my aunt back to The OC. My mom always wants to have a perfect, Norman Rockwell Christmas and I feel bad that it never happens. She was very sad all week over my brother being a temporary idiot and Sheree sinking her teeth into everything, everywhere. I think next year, my mom and her friends should come to NYC for Christmas! Rockefeller Center, The Rockettes, and gay bars on New Year's Eve would be a welcome change.

Our assorted guests - a silent marine, a religious nympho, another gay dude, and a friend of my stepsister - had left awhile ago. My brother and Sheree took the cutest kid in the universe home, leaving my stepmom, stepsister, father and I alone to try to play that DVD game, Scene It. We couldn't figure out how to work it and got bored. My dad got on the computer to look at some ebay crap while my stepsister fell asleep. I went to The Princess Room and watched the rest of season two of 'Weeds' on iTunes. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

A Photo Review of Christmas 2007!

Kristmas with the Krankys

2007-12-23T15:48:00.000-08:00

"No blood. No police. No crying." - Quote from my most recent blog entry.

Well, well, well...

Let me get all 'Pulp Fiction' on you for a moment and start at the end. We partied two days early because of my brother's girlfriend's work schedule. Here is the opening scene from my mom's attempt at an early Christmas Eve celebration. Fade to black...

One of my best girlfriends, Maggie, and I were watching videos I took in New Orleans. She accidentally clicked on a video of me masturbating. We laughed. At the peak of our drunken laughter, Sheree, my brother's girlfriend came running into the kitchen.

"He just punched me in the face! Someone has to go and get him! He's leaving! They said if I didn't want to party with them that they could find some other girls to party with! He hit me! My face!"

Maggie went to console Sheree. I walked outside just in time to see my brother and his friends speed away. I came back inside to Sheree crying and holding her bloody lip, saying "I should call the cops! He fucking hit me! He's lucky the police aren't on his ass right now!"

Fade to black... again.

The afternoon was spent playing with my niece, Madyson. She is a very pretty little girl and she knows it. She is 16 months old and plans on auditioning for 'America's Next Top Model' next season. Seriously, check out how adorable she is when she hugs the baby doll in this next video.

That baby carriage looked like so much fun that I wanted to give it a try.

My mom's best friends, Sandy and Renee, drank champagne and ate shrimp cocktail with me. We tried to sing the 'Winnie the Pooh' song, but couldn't remember how it went. We opened some gifts, talked about movies, and watched my mom finish the other half of my cookie. Party on, mom! I got very emotional about some gift certificates to my favorite mexican fast food, Del Taco. It's like Taco Bell without the rats and the burritos are made by real Mexicans, not bitchy black girls like they are in NYC. Sandy explained the benefits of gift certificates to my niece - "It's just like money! You grab it and spend it!"

The maintenance guy from my mom's apartment complex came over dressed in black slacks and a white turtleneck. He reeked of oddness, and not the funny kind, the annoying kind. I assumed that my mom invited him over, for whatever reason, but turns out he was just a weird party crasher. I get to travel 3000 miles to spend Fake Christmas Eve with this nutball? He was a tiny, nerdy man who told bad jokes - "What character from the Bible works in real estate now?" After a moment of silence from the crowded room, he answered, "Noah, because his investments always stay AFLOAT". Another beat of silence. Then, my niece started doing something cute that everyone could look at instead of interact with The Maintenance Guy.

While I was in New Orleans last month, I bought a baby mammy doll for Madyson. I have unofficially, and without ceremony, dubbed myself Captain Cultural Expansion with regards to gifts for Madyson. She has many pretty, white princesses and visions of blonde Cinderellas everywhere. Her mammy doll was about 9 inches tall. I had bought an additional mammy doll for myself, just over a foot tall, so we can play with our dolls together. You know, little sister/big sister mammys, or mother/daughter mammys, or prison bitch/bull dyke mammys - whatever our imaginations would conjure up. Part of the reason I got the gift was so my Racist Granny would see it as it was revealed, however, Racist Granny pooped her pants, or something, so she didn't make it to the festivities.

When Madyson opened the doll, her reaction was delightful. Watch her eyebrows!

After Madyson plowed through her gifts, the adults started opening some of our stuff too. My mom got me an awesome scarf, new pajamas, and the yearly tradition of new socks. I never buy socks throughout the year because I know Santa Mommy will always come through with socks. Yes, my mom signs all the gifts to me and my brother 'From Santa Mommy'.

My brother and his girlfriend got me a bitchin' black and white Harajuku Lovers manbag. I have been looking for some sweet-ass Harajuku Lovers shit on ebay, but hadn't found anything perfect. Well, this manbag was perfect. My friend Maggie came over (who ended up giving me an amazing Harajuku Lovers wallet) and we gabbed and gabbed and gabbed. Mostly, I talked about how much I love Harajuku Lovers crap.

Notice how much I love my manbag? Also, notice how my mom has decorated her stuffed tiger and dressed him in a santa hat?

After the manbag, pretty much everything went downhill.

My mom had started to really enjoy my cookies and kept misplacing her champagne glass. Uncle Dirty started drunkenly wrestling invisible polar bears on the lawn. Sandy got a phone call from somebody, started crying and left. My brother tried to force everyone to take shots of tequila with him. My brother's friend, 'Swifty', made the following comment to Sheree - "I've beat up girls way fatter than you." That poor choice of wording was the beginning of the end.

Sheree, like a verbal Rottweiler, wouldn't let this go. She was super drunk, as was everyone else except me and Maggie, and her bark was deafening. Her verbal daggers shot all around the apartment complex. Her anger expanded from 'Swifty' to include my brother since he wasn't "sticking up for her". So now she has her anger hooked into my brother, which of course flares up their unresolved issues (a list a mile long and I don't have time right now to list it because I have a flight I need to catch this Thursday). My brother and his hammered friends all decided to tease Sheree and say they are going to a strip bar. She flipped and pushed my brother. He pushed her back. She scratched his neck. He punched her in the face.

One of my best girlfriends, Maggie, and I were watching videos I took in New Orleans. She accidentally clicked on a video of me masturbating. We laughed. At the peak of our drunken laughter, Sheree, my brother's girlfriend came running into the kitchen.

"He just punched me in the face! Someone has to go and get him! He's leaving! They said if I didn't want to party with them that they could find some other girls to party with! He hit me! My face!"

Maggie went to console Sheree. I walked outside just in time to see my brother and his friends speed away. I came back inside to Sheree crying and holding her bloody lip, saying "I should call the cops! He fucking hit me! He's lucky the police aren't on his ass right now!" My mom asked her why he hit her and she said, "I don't know! He hasn't hit me since that time in Vegas!"

Serious. She said that. You can't make this shit up.

My mom had fallen asleep in her bedroom and came running out to see what happened. Maggie and my mom tried to calm Sheree down while I attempted to call my brother. No answer, of course, and we were all left to wonder where they all went. Luckily, my niece had went to bed awhile ago and was sound asleep. Maggie left as soon as possible and I walked her out to her car, thanking her for a wonderful time and made less dramatic plans with her for the next day.

I slowly fell asleep on a lumpy pullout sofa while I heard my mom crying in one room and Sheree crying in another. I fell asleep with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head as I tried to focus on my Harajuku Lovers gear.

I can't wait for Real Christmas Eve! I haven't even seen my father yet! Where did my brother go? Will there be a Christmas miracle? Will my mom stop crying? Do we need to go to the store to buy more boxes of wine?

50 bucks says we don't even talk about the issues at hand and instead we all will focus on how adorable Madyson is.... thank goodness we have a baby to divert our problems! Maybe I should get a baby!

No Blood Yet...

2007-12-22T23:09:00.000-08:00

There's nothing worse that I hate than flying during the holidays.

I was out the door at 4:30am. The first flight, NYC to Washington D.C., was delayed, but I didn't notice too much since I was zombified. The second flight, Wahington D.C. to motherfucking ATLANTA, had two of the sauciest little sky queens I have ever seen. The two Mary's took turns servicing me with headphones and keeping me stocked up with bloody mary's. I decided against the pot cookies because I didn't want to be tired upon arrival. I wanted to be drunk.

The Atlanta airport was a brand new experience for me. What a pit-hole - crowded trams, switched gates, broken escalators, duty free kiosks, and an overwhelming amount of nicely dressed Mexicans drinking Starbucks. My flight had a "change of equipment" and had to have their "seating charts re-arranged". I knew this meant there could be a danger of having to fight for my aisle seat. Sure enough, when I presented my boarding pass, which said I had an aisle seat, the computer re-issued me a ticket for a middle seat.

In times like these, I have to rely on my powers of improvisation.

ME: I need to mention that I have severe claustrophobia and I cannot sit in the middle seat on a plane. How can we fix my seating assignment?
THEM: There are no more seats.
ME: I had booked an aisle seat five months ago due to my condition.
THEM: Ask someone to switch with you.
ME: And if that doesn't work?
THEM: Talk to the flight attendant on duty.

The first flight attendant I saw on the plane was a 46 year old-ish, chemically treated blonde. By sight, I could tell that her favorite hobbies included voting Republican and applying eyeliner. I went through the whole routine with her. She sighed and, in a well polished, fake caring tone, she said, "I'm surprised you fly at all!" Bitch! Kudos for sounding like your being professional and interested in my well being, but actually cutting me down. I hate you, but congratulations. She recommended that I speak to Marny, "the large woman with a big personality" who is "taking care of the guests who are seated where you will be sitting." Wow, a casual mention of how I will be sitting there - a decent attempt at a Jedi mind trick. Bitch was gooood!

I met Marny and put on another consistently brilliant performance, making sure it seemed I was trying to be discreet about my "medically diagnosed claustrophobia" while I was just loud enough so everyone could hear me. The only only seat open was a window next to a 6 year-old boy and his rigid looking mother. Marny asked her to slide over. Miss Rigid had the nerve to say SHE had claustrophobia! She said if she sat by the window, the ceiling "would be too close" and make her feel "closed in".

ME: I am a foot taller than you and weigh 300 pounds. You think it's going to be less severely claustrophobic for me?
HER: I just can't physically do it.
ME: I just can't physically or emotionally do it.
HER: I can have my son move over to the window seat. You can have the middle.
ME: The middle seat definitely won't work.
HER: Well, I don't know what to tell you.
ME: I know what to tell YOU!
MARNY: Do you think you can handle the window seat?
ME: I can try. I just took my paxil, so maybe it will be OK. I hope this compromise works.... it didn't last time I tried.

I then made a big deal about squeezing by the mother and son. I expanded my body to seem fatter and purposely bumped my elbows and forehead all over the place. Once seated, I made a big show of unzipping my jacket and taking it off. After struggling with the seatbelt and breathing irregularly, I felt satisfied that I made a valiant effort to reclaim my aisle seat. I hadn't sat next to the window in forever, and with the small size of the kid, I actually had plenty of room.

A young hippie couple seated in front of me smiled and offered me a Valium. They were my new best friends! The had a little hippie baby whose name was Parker and we chatted about out favorite flavor of cocktails (they are whiskey fans, I am a rum guy). They were delightful and cared about my unfair predicament... not enough to give me their aisle seat of course. But hey, free prescription meds!

Ms. Rigid was eagerly looking out the window as we prepared for take off. I closed the shutter on the window, blocking her view, and started watching season two of 'Weeds' on my ipod. If she was in charge of the aisle in the aisle seat, I am in charge of the windows in the window seat. She was bugged and didn't speak to me the rest of the flight. Marny made a big tah-do on checking on me and gave me free booze the rest of the flight. She was a stern but gentle-hearted southerner. We chatted by the restroom while I took a stretch break. We talked about reality TV, airplane technology and the cunt with the sparkly attitude I encountered when I first started my plea for an aisle seat.

ME: She wasn't too helpful.
MARNY: I bet. She's new with this crew.
ME: She told me to speak to Marny, the large lady with a big personality.
MARNY: Oh did she?
ME: Yeah, I mean, you're tall, but I wouldn't use the word 'large'.
MARNY: Very interesting.
ME: And your personality is aces to me. Thanks for helping me.
MARNY: You're welcome. Another rum and coke?

I hope I laid the foundation for a bitch fight on board the next flight between the two of them. That red state, aging beauty queen needs to have her teeth knocked in a little bit and I think Marny was just the lady to do it.

Anyway, I made it to The OC and went to my friend's restaurant and drank a bunch. I spent the evening with some buddies from my old theatre company and two fo my best friends in The OC, Keith and Justin. So far, not too bad of a trip. No blood. No police. No crying.

Hard Candy Christmas

2007-12-19T06:46:00.000-08:00

Southern California is the setting for popular shows like 'The OC', 'Laguna Beach', 'Newport Beach', and my favorite, 'The Real Housewives of Orange County'. My hometown is full of televised glitz and glamor. Tans, blondes, energy drinks, surfing, surfers, big houses, fast cars, and white smiles are partial ingredients to my big holiday vacation. They are really just the backdrop to what really can happen.

1.) Each visit home, I end up sitting in a sports bar with my dad wondering if the hot bartender knows how to make a proper apple martini. I usually just order a Guinness in an effort to 'man up' and listen to dad talk about the TV show 'House'.

2.) A yearly trip to the Goat Hill Tavern, where the trendy decorator decided sawdust on the floor would perfectly accent the warm, pickled eggs they sell out of a 5 gallon glass jar. My friends will play pool while I devilishly play "Oops, I Did It Again" on the jukebox. I will watch jocks make out with bimbos all night while I keep a mental tally on which dudes would let me go down on them if I had access to a dark room and a six pack of Corona.

3.) My uncle, whose nickname is 'Dirty', might lick a cat butt again with the excuse "that pussy was standing under the mistletoe!" Uncle Dirty is funnier now that he is not on smack, but he still won't say anything but 'hello' or 'goodbye' to me in a cordial fashion. I love that his AA/NA whatever has allowed him to make amends to everyone but me. Better than yelling "Merry Christmas, you fat faggot!"

4.) On my dad's side of the family, my racist grandmother and boozy aunt will need to be picked up and escorted to the family Christmas activities by my saintly mother who divorced my dad, their son and brother, ages ago. Since they both can't drive, they each have an unlimited drinking license to inflict on the world around us. My grandmother will forget what her name is due to the dementia and ask me if I have "found a nice girlfriend in New York yet?" and if I am "still doing that acting thing?"

5.) Perhaps this year my brother's girlfriend will show me her boobs for grocery money. She did it last year to my mom's semi-creepy neighbor for 20 bucks. She seems to be slowly easing out of her major bitchiness, as am I towards her. I asked her to lunch this year to apologize for punishing her ever since she said "You don't have to live with THAT" and thrust a bratty finger in my direction four years ago.

6.) My friends will have all broken up with their boyfriends or girlfriends. Since I am friends with all of them, this will be awkward for me to figure out who is allowed to hang out with whom, who is not talking to who, and how many who's Horton actually heard. Eventually, there will be a party at someone's house were everyone plays beer pong and listens to Sublime.

7.) I might try to explore the gay scene via internet in The OC, but last time I did that, I hooked up with an 18 year old version of myself and felt icky. I didn't feel too bad until he asked me for a ride home and I had to explain to him that I don't have a license and was planning on taking the bus home. We ate at Taco Bell and talked about the TV show 'House'.

I wasn't originally going to go home for Christmas, but then I figured why not. Everyone in NYC leaves. It's a ghost town! So, this trip I plan on behaving like I would any other day, say what I normally would any other day, and get a few things off my chest....for better or for worse. That means I'm gonna get stoned, talk about how I want Jake Gyllenhaal to fuck the shit out of me, and finally tell some people exactly where I am in life and what I think of the world around me.

Bitter? Healthy? Freeing? Doom? Love? We'll see. I leave the day after tomorrow. Let's just hurry up and get it over with...

Best Songs of 2007

2007-12-17T07:09:00.000-08:00

I almost bought a puppy this weekend. Instead, I made a list of my favorite twenty songs from this past year. Some songs didn't have videos on youtube - can you believe it? You may be surprised that Britney Spears and Maroon 5 didn't make the list. Their albums were pop genius, but not a single song emerged as a great single. These are singles that my ears couldn't get enough of all year. Enjoy!

#21. "I Like Music (W.O.S.B.)" by Junior Senior

Junior Senior electrified my summer. I think this CD was released in the UK like 9 years ago, but it came to the US in August. I love this homemade video someone did, I think Junior Senior should use it as their real video for the song.

#20. "So Far" by Miguel Migs

Classic San Francisco house music. If I still did ecstacy I would totally be soulmates with this song. I also would have introduced myself to it as "Birthday Boy" and gave it a PLUR bracelet. There is no video for this song because everyone left early to go buy baby pacifiers.

#19. "The Underdog" by Spoon

I made a mix to motivate myself to go to the gym. This was the second track on the list after that 'Proud' song from 'The Biggest Loser'. It was a modern day Rocky theme song for me. I am the underdog! Holler!

#18. "Half Boyfriend" by Jay Brannan

He is too adorable. It make my eyes hurt when I watch him sing. Jay was in that pointless movie, Shortbus, but his singing career shines in my heart. I want to make him sing to me in my room and never leave until I say so, but that would be kidnapping.

#17. "The Bomb" by New Young Pony Club

The Straights, Jon and Sophia, introduced me to this hipstery crowd pleaser. I hate the name of the band, but I love the shit they drop. The whole album is great, but this song really makes me want to grow a scruffy beard and drink Pabst Blue Ribbon.

#16. "Almost Rosey" by Tori Amos

Tori has officially gone cuckoo with her latest CD. This was one of the few songs that jumped through the chaotic mess on American Girl Posse which was released last May. I will always love Tori... just in that "don't touch me because I don't want your crazy to rub off on me" sort of way.

#15. "Must Be The Moon" by !!!

This song is dirty. It earned a permanent spot on my Sex Mix. Hot shit.

#14. "Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse" by Of Montreal

This video is INSANE! I am still not entirely convinced whether or not I think it's a masterpiece or a pile of cat crap. I found this song while I was having a mild mental breakdown in January. I loved it when the lyrics just repeated "Chemica-uh-als". However, crazy people don't know they are going crazy, so I broke through that phase.

#13. "Breakin' Up" by Rilo Kiley

While Rilo Kiley's new CD wasn't as thrilling as I had hoped, this song lit up my room the second it came on. I listened to it a million times while I did The Master Cleanse in October. It became my theme song for breaking up with The Cleanse on day 5. Also, I love cowbells.

#12. "I Feel It All" by Feist

The first time I heard this song was when I was getting my first ever full body massage. Oh man, what a great tune. I had been resistant to the Feist-hype, but after really hearing her in a completely relaxed state, I jumped on board. I love that there is not a video for this song, but she DID sing it on a bus on the Jimmy Kimmel Show. Hilarious.

#11. "So Rich, So Pretty" by Mickey Avalon

Technically, this song is from December of last year, but fuck it, I didn't find it until June. Hot, dirty, scenester goodness. This song was also on my Sex Mix for a spell, until I was told Mickey Avalon is "sooo L.A." I hate L.A. and didn't want my dick to have anything to do with it.

#10. "Hey Ya" by Obadiah Parker

Obadiah has another brilliant song called "So Hard To Find", but there wasn't any doubt that this cover of 'Hey Ya' truly won a spot on my list. When he gets to that 'shake it like a Polaroid picture' part, I get so excited. One of the best cover songs ever.

#9. "Closer To You" by Young Love

I have no idea what that video is all about, but it made me laugh. This song however, screams awesometown. "AWESOMETOWN!" With its vague 80's synth and darling vocals, I love everything about this song. It makes me feel something. I like songs that make you feel. I wish Young Love had real videos.

#8. "Tears Dry On Their Own" by Amy Winehouse

Also, technically released in December of 2006, but honestly, 2007 was all about Amy Winehouse. This song charged it's way onto my iPod Top 25 Songs very quickly. I thought she had a lyric about masturbating in a half-way drunken stupor, but the lyric was really this - "I shouldn't play myself again, I should just be my own best friend, Not fuck myself in the head with stupid men". I liked it better before.

#7. "Energy" by The Apples In Stereo

Elijah Wood directed this video and helped produce their album. Great, brightly colored music. Every indie fag loves this shit and I am not immune. Anytime I feel sad, I put this song on and happiness melts right into my brain.

#6. "D.A.N.C.E." by Justice

I wanna fuck this video.

#5. "Glory Days" by Just Jack

I had a hard time deciding what song on his CD, Overtones, to pick. Great album from a street performing hip-hoppy ex-raver from the UK. He makes me wanna dance, sing, fuck, write, hum, walk, run, laugh....

#4. "Dark Road" by Annie Lennox

She burns a fire in me. Her intensity of emotion strikes a chord in my soul. I want to write, to paint, to sculpt, to travel to lands far away and learn about myself from other cultures. Truly inspirational. Her music is unique and touching.

#3. "Kids" by MGMT

Who is MGMT? I have no idea, but I am in love with them. Amazing CD, but I listened to this song 12 times in one day. That is so silly. What's sillier is that there isn't a video and the one I did find has terrible sound quality. Do yourself a favor and download everything these guys have to offer on iTunes. Brilliant electro-pop-something-or-other.

#2. "Revival" by Soulsavers

Something about this song mystifies me. It pulls at my heart. It is the soundtrack for pieces of me unsettled in my bones. The night I spoke with Ram Dass, I listened to this song about 25 times. No joke. There is something hopeful, yet dark about this song. The video is amazing.

#1. "Happy Ending" by Mika

What faggot doesn't LOVE Mika? I mean, seriously. So many great songs, but this one, with it's gospel choir and simple melody wins the race this year. It has provided musical accompaniment throughout 2007 - during The Master Cleanse revelation, my fake "break up" with a friend, my nearly miserable trip to California this summer and nearly every train ride home late at night. Thanks Mika!

Not Pissed

2007-12-14T08:17:00.000-08:00

What a difference a day makes!

Yesterday's ice storm had me all a-fluster. I watched the slushy stuff hail down out my window all day while several matters avalanched around me. I was going to go watch 'Survivor:China' with Jeff at Bruce's house, but decided I didn't want to trudge through the weather just to be a lump of crabby energy on his sofa. I opted to go home and sulk.

Turns out, a date I went on last week gave me a jingle. He is a great step up from Towel Boy, so my interest has been caught. He is a self-described booze hound and does the Lords work by selling theatre tickets to old ladies in midtown. We drank rum and watched reality TV. Two of my favorite things! We talked about our love for New York and how we love watching black people fight with each other. He made reference to his alcoholic father yelling 'faggot' at him at family gatherings. For a second, I thought he was getting ready to leave when he went to get his coat. Instead, he got a cute, little bag out of his pocket and asked if I smoke pot! I told him absolutely not. I only eat pot.

Booze Hound and I listened to my new favorite band of all time (MGMT). He admired all my nutty art on my walls, which is nice. He passed the kissing test (and then some). I woke up this morning with three fucking hickeys. Are you kidding me? It looks like I got punched in the neck. Now I know the post-prom shame of every girl in high school (besides me). Booze Hound seems slightly insane, and since I am functionally insane, I'm sure a third date will be in our future. Why? For awhile, I used to wonder why crazy guys were attracted to me. Then, I realized, that I am attracted to crazy guys so it all works out. Just not TOO crazy.

Go Todd! I hope you win 'Survivor: China'...but if not you, then Amanda.

Pissed

2007-12-13T06:38:00.000-08:00

I am angry, sad, and/or nervous about alot of stuff right now. Instead of writing about all or one of them, I will purge my feelings through German music videos. Talk to me tomorrow, because it will be a better day. Or talk to me tonight, because 'Survivor:China' is on, and it will be good. I will definitely be in a good mood at least for 47 minutes while watching that show.

Until then, German angst...

Right On Target!

2007-12-11T07:49:00.000-08:00

When I discovered that Target was sold out of my favorite flavor of Crystal Light (Raspberry Ice), I cried. Literally. I thought perhaps it was a ghost pain from ex-friend-crush-person, but after peeling back the layers of my tears in the soft drink aisle and examining deeper, I am not convinced that was the sole reason. I really had my hopes set on enjoying that particular beverage!

I always am able to cheer myself up at The Worst Target In The Universe by going to their men's department and finding a shirt that surprisingly fits me. This time, I thought I found great pajamas! Dr. Pepper t-shirt with flannel Dr. Pepper drawstring pants. I wasn't sure if they would fit me by looking at them, so I took them to the ladies department where the only functional dressing room was located. I asked the fat, black lady behind the counter for a room. She told me, without looking up from her issue of Ebony Magazine, that I wasn't allowed to use the dressing room on account that it was the women's dressing room.

"Where's the men's room?"
"Upstairs."
"They sent me down here because that one wasn't working."
"Well, they were wrong."
"If that one is broken and I am can't use this one, how do I try these on?"
"You can't."
"That is the silliest thing I have ever heard."
"I'll be here all night."

Just then, an Angel of the Lord was sent from above and shielded this dumb, lazy bitch against my daggers of faggy wit. She just about got punched. Not missing the fact that this would indeed hilarious after the fact, I couldn't help but be overcome with rage. I was about to spit in her face, but then something amazing caught my eye - a body pillow! They had all different designs of covers too! I put my hateful energy into deciding what color to purchase.

Two motherly Jewish women and their 17 children swarmed the body pillows. I heard one of them say something in Yiddish (or something) which I am confidant translated into "Body Pillows for everyone!" The kids went aggressively insane, grabbing at all of the body pillows. One of them got a ketchup stain on a pillow, maybe it was blood, I couldn't be sure. I reached over there obnoxious little heads and grabbed a pillow. All I needed was the cover of my dreams! Well, the moms already had the market cornered on that one, having taken the last of the design I wanted. Motherfucking bitches. It's the seventh night of Hanukkah for christsakes, shouldn't you be somewhere NOT AT TARGET!!??!?!?!?? And why do I have the same taste in body pillow covers as you do!!??!!??!?!?! Fuck!

After dusting myself off and convincing myself that second best is actually best (I'm familiar with this concept all too well), I decided what I really needed was a new DVD player and a bag of Cheddar Baked Lays. Pink DVD players were on sale for 40 bucks. Sold! Cheddar Baked Lays we on sale for 2 bucks. Sold! I felt the happiness wash over me. I opened the bag of chips and ate a few handfuls of lower fat, crunchy goodness. Two minutes later, while I was letting myself get lost in the shampoo department, a security guard approached me. I was too engrossed in selecting which type of Head & Shoulders I wished to buy that I couldn't be bothered to look up at him.

"Did you pay for that?"
"Not yet."
"You know, that's stealing."
"No it's not. I'll pay for it."
"You have to pay for it before you eat it."
"I don't have to. See, I'm eating it."
"Oh, you're a comedian."
"I'll be here all night."

I went home with my fake boyfriend, ate my chips, slipped into my new pajamas that ended up fitting perfectly, and unpacked my cute, little, pink DVD player and curled up on the couch. Everything was perfect except that I was drinking stupid lemonade instead of raspberry ice Crystal Light.

Mary Lynn Rajskub

2007-12-10T09:19:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I woke up with a new OCD tick. Usually, the ones I get from time to time always fade away. I am thankful that my weirdest one to date filtered out of my system months ago. I hadn't any noteworthy ticks the past few months until yesterday. I gave it a day to see if it would just leave my brain, but today I woke up and it was still there.

Everytime I open or close a door or shut my laptop closed, my brain says, "Mary Lynn Rajskub". She just pops in my head from nowhere! Now, here are some initial weird things about this new tick. One, I don't say it when I open my laptop, only when I close it, but I say it when I open or close a door. Seems inconsistent. Also, she was in a dream I had during The Master Cleanse last month. Also, I think I always mispronounce her name in my brain. I don't think I have ever heard it said out loud. Now, I am on a quest to hear her name mentioned somewhere on youtube - a clip of '24', a puff piece on Entertainment Tonight, or maybe a behind the scene's interview on the set of 'Human Giant'.

Anyway, I hope this disappears soon. It's at least better than when I was talking to my poops.

White Trash X-mas Party

2007-12-09T10:16:00.000-08:00

Brian and I started decorating this past Wednesday. Somehow it took us right up until 7:00pm (the time the party was to start) this Saturday to be completely ready for our First Annual White Trash X-mas Party! My new painting arrived from New Orleans just in time to be hung in our living room! Here is a photo tour of what our apartment looked like beforehand...

There was also a Jewish room and I hung a framed picture of Jake Gyllenhaal in a Santa hat in the bathroom. For snacks, Brian baked himself into a frenzy and made a bunch of cookies. I made cheese and Ritz crackers, a twinkie tower, and a seven layer dip of which I could only think of six layers worth of stuff to put on it. The twinkie tower was a hit - stacks of red and yellow twinkies garnished with spicy pork rinds. A real X-mas treat!

The party got off to a very slow start. Only one person was there on time and she planned on leaving early! Was this a cruel joke? Was no one coming? We thought the G train may have eaten some of our guests! About 9:30pm, people started coming all at once. The Straights got held up at a Cookie Party hosted by single, fat Christian girls with bad attitudes. Sounds like my party was a definite upgrade. Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You" played on the radio and all was in full swing.

Once everyone had time to mingle and down some cocktails, we did a White Elephant gift exchange. You know, the thing where you get to steal other people's gifts and everyone sits in a circle? Anyway, the shittiest gift that was brought this year was sheet music from 'Gypsy'. It was a last minute entry for someone who forgot to bring a gift. Now, I am all for last minute entries - I helped a friend out by wrapping some used CD's (good ones too!), but sheet music wrapped in newspaper is a new low. However, it does not top the one year in college that someone wrapped an empty Taco Bell soda cup for a gift and when it was selected, you could see the melted ice cubes dripping through the green and red paper. The guy who brought that was permanently banned from my circle of friends.

I stole a pretty dope figurine from the Paris Hotel in Vegas, but Brian stole it from me in an attempt to get me to form an alliance with him to steal the spice rack that he wanted. I almost did it because the dude who brought the sheet music had the spice rack, but in a surprising, last minute turn of events, I stole my own gift (a Jay Strongwater heart pin) from the lovely Jeanne. Now what? Well, Jeanne then stole the spice rack from the sheet music guy leaving him the only choice but to unwrap a new gift. He got a figurine of a girl caroling in the snow, her mouth looked like she was ready to give a blowjob. It was all very confusing and slightly hostile, which seems to be the way games go down in this household, but I somehow ended up with my Paris figurine again and Brian and Jeanne had each other's gifts they wanted, so they just switched. It was a Christmas miracle! The only miracle that wasn't so delightful, was the people who got shafted with the sheet music. The Straights thought it might be a nice piece of art, a painting, a water color, perhaps a paint by number....nope.

After a downward spiral of booze, pills, and sugar cookies, everyone was having a good time, or at least was tricked into thinking they were having a good time. The guy who brought the sheet music left his caroling blowjob figurine behind. Maybe accidentally, but The Straights think it was left out of a guilty conscience. The Straights happily took the caroler and tried to roll a cigarette with the sheet music.

My vote for favorite party guest was a Japanese girl, whose name was Miko, I think. She was visiting from Japan. She did not know much English and came to the party stoned. I am still not clear how she got to the party or who she was there with. I leave you with some of my favorite shots from the evening. Enjoy!

Merry Effing X-mas!

My Grown Up Christmas List

2007-12-05T11:03:00.000-08:00

1. A cool wallet
2. More socks (black AND white)
3. New shower system
4. This
5. That
6. A house in The French Quarter
7. A critically acclaimed supporting role on TV show with mass appeal
8. To look like Brad Pitt in 'Fight Club'
9. Starbucks gift certificates
10. iTunes gift certificates
11. Shrooms

Team Parisa

2007-11-30T21:50:00.000-08:00

I finally caught up with the Real World Sydney this week and feel obligated to do a quick sound off on one of my favorite TV dynasties. Wow. This season is all about the women. Dunbar is boring and not as cute as the girls give him credit for. Cohutta is nothing but a fun accent. I do love Isaac though. I know dudes like him back home. He is great.

I was sad to see Shauvon leave. She was pretty cool. Kelly Anne is alright when she isn't going boy crazy or letting other people think for herself. Then there is Trisha and Parisa. Classic, bitchy girl fights. "Bitch" - "Cunt" - "Whore" - "Ugly" - "Fat" etc. etc. etc.

Now, I admit, Parisa seems a bit of a tense, cold fish. But, I will admit - I like her! She is a strong girl who has real thoughts and isn't an invisible carbon copy bimbo who just spits out whatever her parents programmed her to think or say - like that egomaniac Trisha. What a twatty piece of shit. Completely hateable in every way. Fake pretty, close minded, self-centered, and a "good Christian girl". Barftastical!

Trisha pushed Parisa down after a lame fight about the phone. Now this wasn't anything near as crazy as my favorite Davis and Tyrie fight from Denver, but it was still pretty great. Trisha's daddy tells her that she should apologize even though Trisha doesn't mean it. Trisha rightfully says that would be lying because Trisha has "so much hate in my heart for that girl". Trisha sucks so much and so do her fucking awful parents who raised such a cookie cutter stereotype of a supposed good Christian girl who in actuality is a two faced piece of plastic crap. It was Parisa's call on whether or not Trisha was allowed to stay in the house since you are not allowed to use physical force on any of your roommates. Parisa decided that she didn't want to live with Trisha anymore.

Trisha offered some transparent apologies and when Parisa didn't go for it, Trisha said some nasty bullshit before she left. All Parisa did was look up from her book she was reading, look her in the eye and said, "Enjoy your flight. Take care." HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Screw you Trisha! Parisa is gonna get shit from Kelly Anne and the new girl Ashli (because they don't have Trisha there to think for them). Stay strong Parisa! I love you! You are awesome!

The best part of all this is that the boys sooo do not care that Trisha is gone. They hated her! HAHAHAHAHA! Trisha, if you ever stumble on this blog, please know that you look like an idiot on TV and no one likes you except for yourself. Go Parisa! I am on Team Parisa!

PS...I hate myself for caring enough about these TV 'characters' to even write about them, but I am sick at home on a Friday night. What else am I going to do?

New Orleans - The End

2007-11-28T20:53:00.000-08:00

We all had separate flights going other places except for me and Jeff. We checked out of the hotel with the sassy black lady who had been ever present all weekend. She was adorable. I went across the street to the deli to grab some bottled water. Inside, I was accosted by a frightening, Cajun homeless man. He spoke to me in harsh, garbled, nearly unrecognizable English.

MAN: Can you give me some money?
ME: I don't have any money.
MAN: How are you going to buy all that crap? He points to the single bottle of water in my hand.
ME: That's all I have. Sorry.
MAN: Well give me a job then!
ME: I can't. I'm from out of town.
MAN: Oh shit.
ME: Sorry. Have a good day though.
MAN: Give me some money. Come on, just do it.
ME: I don't have it. No matter how many times you ask me.
MAN: Oh is that how it is then?

The man stumbles into the street. I realize he is barefoot.

MAN: Someone just tried to kill me! He tried to shake me down! Help! Police!

With that, I was off, back home to New York City. The past few days have been inexplicably perfect. Not a care, not a worry. Good times with great friends. No bullshit. All groovy awesomeness. I have recharged my batteries, taken a deep breath. I should go on vacations more often. Here are some more fun pictures...

That's me making a sad face because I want to be there still. Maybe this will have to be a new Thanksgiving tradition. I'm sure there is still more to see in New Orleans - the aquarium, plantations, Philip's cock. Bye New Orleans! Thank you!

New Orleans - Phase Five

2007-11-26T22:41:00.001-08:00

My goal today was to purchase some New Orleans art. It was our last full day in town and I also had realized that I had yet to get a famous Hurricane. I still had not found live Zydeco either, which was rather disappointing. Also, as much fun as the gay clubs were, we hadn't seen anything too outrageous. This was all about to change.

First stop - we all went shopping in the plentiful art galleries, bookstores, antique shops and souvenir shops. I had accidentally eaten a chocolate chip cookie, more beignets, and we found a groovy street musician. He looked like Jesus with a Dulcimer. After zoning out on his quirky songs, I got sucked into The Neverending Christmas Store. I am not sure how long I spent in the store, called Santa's Quarters, but I know I was in there long enough that Jeff called me to find out where I was.... I had to be rescued. You can see why...

Next up, a different cemetery - one that was open. The sign out front said "Enter at your own risk. The city of New Orleans and the Parish of St. Louis is not to be held responsible for your safety and security while on these grounds." I wasn't so much afraid of the immediate presence of spirits that I felt, but the homeless junkies that probably used the cemetery for a nice, secluded area to shoot up. The four of us banded together and took a creepy stroll. Here are some of the better shots from the St. Louis Cemetery...

Wow. After all that creepiness, we needed a good stiff drink. Where better to get one than at The Corner Pocket, one of the few gay bars we had yet to visit. I opted for a Captain Morgan and coke, my usual this trip. The place was super empty, granted it was a Monday at noon, but the bars never close in New Orleans, so I thought there would be someone. The kind bartender dryly asked us the standard questions - Where are you from? How long are you in town? A weird couple came in and ordered shots. The younger one looked like a druggie pirate and the older one looked like he was recently featured on 'To Catch A Predator'. The couple, the bartender and us all got audibly excited when 'Cops' came on the TV and it was revealed that the episode was entitled 'Bad Girls'. We were instantly bonded. I noticed a giant, black cat that seemed to live in the bar. I asked the bartender what was the cat's name... "Oh, him? He ain't got no name. He came to us as a Katrina survivor. No one ever has named him." The scary pirate guy said, 'Oh, he gotsa name, he jus' ain't tellin' no one what it is..' Adorable, for a gay pirate.

We broke for lunch at Coop's Place. I had eaten there earlier in the weekend and had some amazing Sausage & Rabbit Jambalaya and homemade cole slaw. Coop's is definitely a local bar with a modest sized seating area. Cajun gypsies make the food in the backyard next to the restrooms. I went to use the restroom and saw them all sitting on the ground and drinking from flasks. I'm down to party, thats cool. Jeff and I had mojitos and waited for the food to come. In the meantime, we made friends with the regulars. Seriously, that was the biggest regular we've ever seen in our gay lives. We didn't have any problem with scarfing down the grub though, so fucking good. We just pretended not to think about where it was being made.

More goddamn beignets.

Time for a ghost tour! With Mideon Von Thorne! He was very knowledgeable and nice, just not exactly Captain Ted level. I love Captain Ted. I love that the ghost tour incorporated a bar break at the halfway point of the tour. I love it even more that it was at that fucking Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop that the manager had almost kicked us out. Hilarious! We had vowed to never go back there, each time we walked by it cursing it's name, and now, here we were again. I didn't order anything though, we were drinking red wine out of a plastic water bottle which I kept in my pocket - which is totally legal there by the way. As long as you are carrying your booze in a plastic container, you can take it anywhere! During the last leg of the ghost tour, we saw Philip the Psychic. He was wearing his instantly recognizable black feather coat. He just stared at us. Creepy/Awesome!

Once the tour was finished, we headed down Bourbon Street for one last hurrah. We came upon a fancy jazz place that sat us in the front row. It was here that I finally got my Hurricane. OH MY GOD, WHY HAD I NOT BEEN DRINKING THESE THE WHOLE TIME???? What an idiot I am! We watched a pretty decent jazz band and left when they went on break. Almost immediately, we found my live Zydeco at the Cajun Cabin. The band, Mitchell Cormier and The Can't Hardly Playboys, were fucking brilliant. We ordered fried alligator, fried crawfish, more Hurricanes, and a trio of sausages - alligator, andouille, and crawfish. Jeff even got pulled up on stage!

I got to play the washboard too. We ate up good and had a blast. The waitress made me order a drink called Swamp Water, made with Everclear. Everclear is like 100 percent alcohol. It was tasty! She also suggested that we go to The Corner Pocket. Funny, we had already been there, but she told us that there were live dancers every night. We took our Hurricanes and Swamp Waters in plastic to go cups and headed to the Corner Pocket again...

Armed with one dollar bills and a smashing sense of humor, I entered The Corner Pocket. There were 8 dancers and 8 customers. Joshua, the cutest of them all, came up and danced in my face. I tucked a couple dollars in his very fashionable underwear and waited for him to do a little dance or something. He said, "You can stand to have a little more audience participation". I told him that "I am used to being stabbed in the face if you touch the dancers". He asked where we were from and we told him New York. He laughed, dropped his act and said, "Now what the hell are you boys doing down here? We all try to move there, and you come down here?" After chatting with the blonde and blue eyed, Joshua, he took our monies and rubbed all up on us. He was very good at his job. Smelled like Boy Heaven and lingered close enough to you that you could feel his hard-on. Classy fun!

More of the dancers came over throughout the night. One guy's signature move involved wrapping his legs around your head and quickly thrusting his giant balls (shielded by his Calvin Klein's of course) in your face - like a rabid washing machine rinse cycle. It was not sexy, it was funny. They were all cute, but not as much as the adorable Joshua. He was definitely the Queen Bee of this gay harem. We got a taste of all the dancers except for one. He was wearing red briefs, smoking a cigarette, listening to his ring tone on his cell phone over and over. He didn't even look in our direction once. I think Joshua had marked his territory. Joshua got the cute boys from New York and Red Briefs was regulated to the old, obese black guy in the corner. I really wanted to know what the drama was between Joshua and the red briefs guy. The tension was visible, but they were more than professional to each other. I'm glad Joshua won us, he was hot. A few more Hurricanes and alot less dollars later, we decided to meander back out into the streets where I met my new friends and their hats...

We walked around and looked for ghosts, vampires, and more beignets. We were gonna head back to The Leaky Cauldron from the night before, but were so drunk and tired we decided to cut ourselves off. We chatted in the streets a little more, and headed back to the hotel. Nighty-night!

New Orleans - Phase Four

2007-11-25T17:54:00.000-08:00

The sky opened up. The clouds crashed. Thunder, lightning, thunder, lightning... Our nap last night turned into going to bed. We made an attempt to go out, but it was raining so hard. We did not eat oysters on the half shell. We did not try to find Philip. We did not seek out a jazz club. What did we do? We downloaded zydeco music in our hotel room and bought some black cherry rum and cherry coke. We tried to get ourselves revved up to go out, but Jeff fell asleep on the couch and Jeff went back to his hotel room to go to bed. Jeff was still sick from the night before and went to bed while Jeff and I half-heartedly looked at boys in the NOLA area on manhunt.com. We were all asleep by midnight! Old! Losers!

It was still raining crawfish and oysters this morning, but we felt great. Jeff and I had a perfect crab omlette in a restaurant that was right out of New Orleans Square Disneyland (or New Orleans Square right out of this place, rather). Jeff had opted to stay in the Quarter and catch a play about slavery and racism presented by a community theatre (brilliant) but the rest of us went to the Garden District via the St. Charles Trolley. There were amazing houses lining the street. I took a picture of what I believed to be the Belfort Mansion from my favorite season of The Real World. I got the address from several confirmed sources. We were on the way to a cemetery, so I thought I would come back and get a picture with the mansion.

Unfortunately, the cemetery was closed. So what are four faggots supposed to do in an isolated area of New Orleans in the pouring rain? A photo shoot naturally. Headshots to be specific. The cemetery was enclosed by a great wall of old brick, making a perfect gothic background for our pictures. Here are my favorites from the shoot...

After we were done fagging out in the presence of ghosts, we made our way to Magazine Street. A neverending collection of thrift stores, vintage clothing, and retro furniture. We all spent our fair share of money to help support the local businesses. It was a win/win situation. I got to spend money guilt free on handbags and scarves while I helped New Orleans re-build. I fell in love with a painting and got into a fight with a stupid girl at Starbucks who messed up my drink and tried to give me attitude. I actually had the nerve to say, "I used to work for Starbucks for six years, I know the chemistry behind making this drink." Ugh, what an asshole.

We went to find a bar that was recommended to us for "The Best Po' Boy's on Earth". The po' boy was great, but I couldn't help but think I might get beat up in this joint. I couldn't tell if we were caged animals that the locals kept looking at or if it was us, roaming free in a foreign zoo, hoping no one would pounce on us while we enjoyed our tasty sandwiches. We didn't hang out for long. The rain still hadn't let up, but we marched on towards the Real World mansion to get my picture.

The address I had did not match the address to the mansion I had taken a picture of earlier. The address was nowhere to be found!!!! I looked up and down the block, getting drenched. Finally, I had to give up. I have come to the conclusion that either the mansion has been torn down and made into a new branch of Chase Bank or MTV never even filmed the show there. It was all a hoax. So, what do we do next?

DRAG QUEEN BINGO!

This fat bitch was such a cunt. Now, I love drag queens, but this was one busted pig. She lathered so much attention on the "pretty" boys in the 'crowd' (seriously, 25 people at most, five of them was a family from North Carolina). She made herself look pathetic. Now, I understand that I am not 'hot' or worthy of being asked to be in a shirtless contest, but I expect that when you come over to my group of friends and start talking about how you used to live in New York (lies) and joking around with them (bad puns) that when I try to talk to you, you should NOT ignore me. Dirty Whore! Her name was Blanche Debris (trash!) and her stupid bifocals (old man) under her terrible sunglasses (bad taste) was a look that was too much to take. What an old, chubby cunt-rag. Fuck you.

We all left in the middle of the game because we wanted to go watch 'The Amazing Race' back at the hotel room. Blanche asked me where we were all going and to please stay so my friends could be in the contest... I lied and said we were gonna get something to eat and that we would be back in time for the contest. Suck it.

After our reality TV fix, we went to dinner at Acme Oyster House. Captain Ted had recommended it and we we not disappointed. So great! Charbroiled oysters, raw oysters, fried crawfish, rum, and what I thought was seafood gumbo. I was corrected and told that it was actually crawfish and corn bisque....

After many more rum drinks, we looked through some of the photos from earlier. I was amazed that I found I had captured the likeness of a spirit! I photographed a ghost in the wall at the cemetery! Here is the picture, see if you can find the face of a bearded man in the wall!!!

I was so flipped out that I flipped out!

Jeff had to fly back to Florida the next morning, so we decided to hunt down some live music. First, we stopped for beignets at Cafe Du Monde. What scrumptious, little, delightful, pieces of fried dough! Topped with powdered sugar! Wow! But, live music called our name, so I didn't get all gluttonous and order more beignets. We stumbled into a few different places that were all great, but our favorite place was a nameless bar that simply had this chalkboard sign sitting out front.

For the Harry Potteraphobic, 'muggles' are non-magic folk. So this sign was telling us that only witches, warlocks and magic faeries were allowed inside. OMG. The bartender was this sort of Scooby Doo-esque bluesy rastafarian, a large group of dirty, alternative kids were all making out and laughing, a burly gay couple shot pool, a yuppy looking straight couple drank red wine, and a girl in a red skirt danced by herself. The jukebox ran out and I got to select the soundtrack for the bar. Such a great place. It was the real Leaky Cauldron.

We were spent at that point and trudged back to the hotel. We all had to say our goodbyes to Jeff and he waved farewell as we stumbled down the street.

Time for another nap!

New Orleans - Phase Three

2007-11-24T15:40:00.000-08:00

Wow, the evening had so much to offer last night, I fear that I may not remember everything. It's all coming back in fast edit clips and slow motion montages, like MTV on quaaludes... a hot tranny waitress gave me the best flautas I have ever eaten, hooked up with a cajun cub named Jeff, we wandered into a butch, leather bar where we were clearly marked as the 'out of towners', an annoyingly loud gay dude kept telling Jeff to 'put your ass on the table and play some pool' so the butch bartender told the loud guy that they were going to play 'the quiet game' and he only wanted to here his voice if he was going to order another drink, we found the dueling gay clubs, Oz and Bourbon Street Pub, across the street from each other and met the local gays, Jeff and I danced on a huge dancefloor with a 400 people capacity - if only there were 398 more people to get the full effect, I had my 47th glass of rum at a cozy, candlelit bar called Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop - the oldest building in The Quarter, a bitchy pianist nearly refused to play our request (Do you know anything by Judy Garland?), we went to a low key gay bar next door also called Lafitte's, a cute boy named Ricky served us booze then said, 'I hear you guys are from New York'. Was he psychic?

No, he was not psychic. The manager at the straight Lafitte's bar is also the manager at the gay Lafitte's bar. I overheard him tell Ricky "yeah that's them, I almost just kicked them out next door, they told Marianne they are from New York, find out what the fuck their story is..." and then the a-hole manager left. WTF? How are we more loud and obnoxious than any other loud and obnoxious group of people? Anyway, Ricky was a peach. Jeff was too drunk and tapped out, going back to the hotel by himself. So Jeff, Jeff, Jeff and I went to the gay diner across the street before stumbling back to bed.

So yeah, that was last night. Thankfully, Jeff gave that shitty sweater to some crazy, but cute, cub guy who wandered in the diner. Good move to get rid of that sweater, but the crazy cub texted Jeff all night long - "I love orgies! HahA! LOL!"

Today we went on a "Cajun Encounter Swamp Tour". We were all pretty wrecked, but we wanted to be good little tourists, so we marched forward. We drove about an hour away from New Orleans on a bus with alot of old people from Scotland, England, and China. We drove through an area that was described as "one of the lighter areas hit by Katrina". Holy shit. It looked worse in person and I was prepared for some fucked up shit. Most of the homes are completely destroyed and empty. The few people who are still living there are living in little white trailers in their driveways. They can't even live in their house! I can't believe that we are stuck in Iraq, spending zillions of dollars on Bush's war, while our own people at home are fucked without homes. Yay America. I felt like Kanye West driving through these towns.

The roads are decaying and bumpy from water damage, the stink of mold is everywhere, and the feeling of spiritual unrest is heavy. I made a mental note to myself that I did not want to play Ouija on the board I had packed. By the time we got to the swamp, we were all so jostled by the bumpy road, we thought we were going to throw up. Thankfully, they had real, live cajun rocking chairs to relax in!

It was cold and the forecast had predicted rain, but the five of us picked the uncovered swamp boat to go in with Captain Ted, the better seeming of the two guides. The other guides boat filled up because it was a canopy boat. Our open air boat was just us and a happy Scottish couple - her cheeks were rosey and he walked with a cane. Captain Ted spun many tales in his little swamp boat, his thick cajun accent covered my hungover brain with a spicy gumbo. Here are some excepts from his tour.

He told us a story of how a mouthy fifth grader wouldn't stay seated in his boat. The kids spit at Captain Ted and the teacher refused to interven, saying that it was the child's self-expression. Captain Ted pointed to some poison ivy within arms reach of the boat and said, "See, that's a magic bush! Anyone who touches is and smashes it up in their hands will be granted one wish." The boy did so and the thought of the boy going home and hugging mommy and daddy made him giggle. He blamed the parents for their bratty kid. I thought it was odd that he would never look us in the eye hile telling his stories. Whether they are true or not, I love Captain Ted.

Now it's time for a nap.

New Orleans - Phase Two

2007-11-23T15:38:00.001-08:00

We ended up not meeting up with the druggie-stripper. Instead, I passed out in the kitchen on an uncomfortable rollaway bed. I had a dream my ex-friend-crush-person started dating the Mexican dude from 'The Biggest Loser'. They weren't really in love and I laughed at them because the Mexican dude was a mean cheater on the show. I woke up and immediately shat my Thanksgiving dinner all over the place.

Jeff and I went to meet Jeff down in our hotel lobby for a free continental breakfast. We decided 'continental' translates to 'gross, free crap'. Stale danish and muddy coffee were our breakfast soulmates. Jeff joined us and Jeff and I called Jeff to see if he and Jeff were coming over. We chatted with some French couple. She was reading the newspaper and wanted to quiz the table on our vocabulary and asked us what we thought 'locavore' meant. I told her that it was a person or animal that only ate choo-choo trains. I was wrong.

First item of business was to get a reading from Philip at Marie Laveau's House of Voodoo. He was a fantastic reader. Seriously, he saw into me. Dressed in a black feather coat, red vest, and stunning eyes, he was definitely the vision of New Orleans psychic to me. He took my hand, his own hands shaking with energy, and asked what side the diabetes is on in my family. My mom, I told him. He told me I don't have it and I ain't ever gonna get it. My blood was his language. Then, he asked me how I lost the weight. I told him about my three month/fifty pound challenge. He said that I would not reach my goal of fifty pounds in that time frame, but that I would be very fulfilled with 'my quest for loss' in about six months if I kept with the program, that there was more than fifty pounds to lose and that I would succeed. He told me I was going to become financially successful using my unique sense of humor, but that he couldn't see specifically what aspect of my comedy or how it was used in the role of the success. He said how he has a very uniques sense of humor as well, then showed me a picture of his huge pee-pee. It was his screensaver on his cell phone. We both laughed and he was like, I thought you would think that was funny. I am positive he was hitting on me.

He went into two very important relationships - my dad and my ex-friend-crush-person. Unprompted or informed in any way, he went on to tell me amazingly specific things about each relationship. He truly blew my mind. All in all, I feel great about my journey with my ex-friend-crush-person, but he told me that if/when I decide to talk to pops, I should be prepared to have that be the last time I talk to him. I started to say how I felt compelled to talk to pops and Philip cut me off with a flip of his middle finger to the air and said, 'Fuck it, why is he so important, you are the important one'. Then, he told me about a bar in The Quarter I should go to later... I used my own psychic powers to tell me that he is a regular there and that he wants to buy me a drink.

Philip mentioned that my next relationship will be my last, that it will not end in divorce or break up. He said it might be awhile until that happens and that between now and then I 'just need to get your dick wet'. So classy, Philip! He predicted all sorts things regarding employment, living situations, sexual prowess, friendship, family matters, and future written works of mine that will be published, all without any personal background or information being told from me. Creepy! Awesome!

I tipped him ten bucks and he again told me which bar I should go to later tonight and even told me the drink specials they have there. Hilarious. I am now going take a little nappy-nap and see what the evening has to offer me.

New Orleans - Phase One

2007-11-22T21:55:00.000-08:00

Everyone I am with in New Orleans is named Jeff. We got drunk on the plane and watched a few hours of Discovery Channel. I decided I want a baby hippo. We went to dinner in a fancy, haunted hotel. I didn't see any ghosts, but the meal was super perfect. So great. It's a nice mix of "my gays" on the trip (everyone is named Jeff). Besides the amazing food, my favorite part of dinner was our waitress. She told us how she got an iPhone from her ex-boyfriend in the mail and that she is hiding it from her husband until Christmas when she can pretend it was sent to her by her mother. Her Cajun accent was thicker than our yummy shrimp and corn chowder. So, so great.

After dinner, we walked down Bourbon Street. It seemed like a gay-friendly version on Newport Beach, California - all neon lights, loud music, and overpriced booze. I mean, straights definitely rule the streets, but I got the sense that everyone is used to gay stuff around these parts. So used to, in fact, that we all went to see a live sex show (in hopes of seeing what a real, live naked girl looks like) and the straight guy bartender asked us if we liked boys or girls. Duh. I ended up getting a lap dance from him, just because I wanted to feel dirty. He tied his giant dick in a knot and made me touch it. I tipped him five bucks and asked him if he knew where to score some dope. I figured it was safe to ask him since he had meth-rot on his teeth. Too bad, cuz his waist down was pretty hot. However, great legs do not make up for your mouth falling off your face.

I am supposed to go meet my private dancer at some club in an hour. Hmmmm.... I think I might pass out right now though. It took alot of effort to log onto the internet at the hotel. I may have wiped out all my energy.

Zydeco & Thankfulness

2007-11-21T06:22:00.000-08:00

Last Thanksgiving, I made a list of things of which I was thankful. I am mostly thankful for all those same things this year too. Of course, I am always thankful for my friends and most of my family too. This year, in preparation for my trip to New Orleans tomorrow, I would like to introduce you to Zydeco....

"Breaking Up"

2007-11-20T11:39:00.000-08:00

I saw a live performance of '30 Rock' last night at Upright Citizen's Brigade. It was done to heighten awareness of the Writer's Strike and as a benefit for out of work people. Tina Fey was awesome and clearly told everyone in the audience not to blog about the content of the show as it hasn't aired yet. I will not be blogging about '30 Rock'. I will not mention how the show was hilariously awesome.

Here are some other things that I am not going to do....

I am not going to forget my umbrella at home. I am not going to drink juice or soda. I am not going to smile at the fake-nice Asian man who comes into my office to look at his stupid paintings. I am not going to call my racist grandma on her birthday. I am not going to eat at Chipotle anymore. I am not going cry at my desk.

You know what's weird? Breaking up with someone you aren't even dating. I have broken up with waiters. They were mean to me once and now when I go back to that restaurant, I ask for a different server if I am sat in their section. I have broken up with The Deli Guy over how he made a crappy sandwich several times. Two weeks ago, I broke up with a TV show (Heroes). But, unfortunately, today, I had to break up with a friend. Let's just chalk up all the boring details under 'UNREQUITED LOVE'.

The whole saga organically unfolded over Gchat today. I had planned on talking to him in person about this tomorrow night, right before I was to run away to New Orleans. Anyway, he read the letter I had prepared so I didn't leave out anything important I wanted to say. I sent it as a google attachment. He understood and said words like "respect" and "amazing" and "brave" and "inspire". I said words like "tricky" and "instincts" and "universe" and "oatmeal". I started crying like an idiot while I tried to answer the phone. We typed back and forth while I dripped tears on envelopes that needed to be sent out to rich, important people with last names like 'Devereaux' and 'Williamshire'. He went home early from work because he was sick and I blocked him from my gchat... indefinitely.

I stared out my window at the statue of a giant pencil. The wind and rain was ugly and I felt cold inside. Even though I was immensely sad, I had a tiny light inside of me that seemed to say that I had done the right thing. I needed it to be my decision to end our communication to move on, move forward, to love myself. I left my desk during one particularly rough hour to go outside. It's really hard to cry silently when all you want to do is sob out loud. I found a private little area under some wet trees whose leaves were changing - brown, orange, fire. After a few moments of feeling like a moron, I came back inside and dried my swollen eyes. My boss asked me if I was getting a cold and I started crying again. She immediately tried to give me chocolate and coffee. I refused the chocolate, but drank the coffee, feeling like an emotional leper at a fancy desk.

It's been an hour since my coffee band-aid and I am much calmer. A huge weight has been lifted off my heart and with every breath I am more and more confident I have done the right thing. Tonight, I plan on buying a digital camera, the new, live Daft Punk CD - with booklet and encore audio, and a puppy. That will make me feel better, less insane. A tiny, hopeful light has been added on my path to happiness, and even though I feel foggy and grounded in this decision, I can't help but miss my friend already.

I think I violated Tina Fey's rules. The friend I talk about, is um... Alec Baldwin. This was the story line for the upcoming episode of '30 Rock'. Sorry, Tina.

Saturday Night Live - LIVE!

2007-11-19T07:13:00.000-08:00

OMG. OMG. OMG.

This past Saturday night, the cast of Saturday Night Live performed at Upright Citizen's Brigade. It was a benefit for the Writer's Strike and I was lucky enough to contribute my 20 bucks for a ticket. I had to stand outside for an hour and a half, but it was worth freezing balls because I actually got a seat! Usually, I have to stand to watch shows at the theatre, but I was a real, live, paying audience member this time! Let's just say, AWESOMETOWN!

I forget how theatre doesn't fully translate to screen. I remember seeing a production of 'The Imaginary Invalid' by Moliere in college on a VHS cassette - turned me off to French farce forever. Maybe that's why I have never been totally head over heels in love with SNL. I LOVE theatre (you can tell because I spell it with an "tre" instead of a "ter"), but I don't love theatre on screen. SNL is a staged medium on TV. Sure, I respect their gig, I adore certain performers, but something about it never totally kicks my "love button". My opinion has officially changed.

I LOVE SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE, especially when it is ACTUALLY live!

Michael Cera's entrance as host for the evening won some of the biggest applause I have ever heard... anywhere. His excitement and playful energy infused the entire night. Amy Poehler was intoxicatingly adorable, as yooz. A super-naughty Weekend Update, which used previously written material deemed 'too offensive', was a personal highlight. Two more bests for me were a solid character sketch with Kristen Wiig as a cat lady who dictated the family Holiday Card to her husband in a creepy kitty voice and a brilliantly heightened sketch about a neighborhood sex offender going trick-or-treating in his costume... as a sex offender. I also loved that the writer's were the one's holding the cue cards during the show. Great idea and kept me constantly aware of why the fantastic opportunity to see this live show had happened - some corporate D-bags trying to screw the creative community.

Stand strong, writers! Norma Rae this shit!

PS... I have never actually heard Yo La Tengo, the live musical guest, until Saturday, but their rendition of "Mr. Tough" blew my jizz all over the place. I iTuned the fuck out of them yesterday.

Coffee Ramble

2007-11-16T12:06:00.000-08:00

Apparently, I drink coffee now.

It makes sense though, since I should be addicted to something, and I don't have enough money for coke. Wow, I love free coffee. I just drank up 5 cups of earthy goodness left over from a fancy luncheon at my office. I am drinking the President's coffee for free!

It hits me so fast too! Like an abusive stepdad! Pow! Coffee! What a horrible analogy! My stepdad never hit me. Or did he? I don't remember, he was stoned and angry alot - strange combo. He made me gut a fish once when we were camping and I cried. Man, I can feel a nice, healthy poop coming out soon! YAY!

I am really good at multi-tasking all of the sudden. Vito just called at the same time Rita dropped off the press releases from this week. Only I called her 'Rito' and wrote down that 'Vita' called on the message pad. Oh well. I'm going to New Orleans next week for Thanksgiving! I am pretty sure my life is gonna change soon! Yay me! Yay you! Hurricane Jeff is on it's way!

Pink Eye or Gay Stigmata?

2007-11-15T06:40:00.000-08:00

My left eye has been leaky off and on for about a month and a half. It's not itchy or scratchy, just consistently wet. No discharge, no color, just plain old tears. Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, my eye is crusted over and I can't see. Since, I rarely remember my dreams, I assume I am crying in them. Whether it's daddy issues, unrequited love or realizing your DVR didn't record the entire episode of 'The Amazing Race' because a fucking football game went into overtime, my eye has become a physical representation of pain. Like, when statues of Jesus start bleeding!*

* Not saying I am a Jesus figure, just comparing apples to fat oranges.**

** Actually, I take that back. In the last two days, three different people in three different parts of my life made the comment that I appear to be losing weight. They would be right! I have lost 27 pounds since October 1st, more than half of my goal of 50 pounds by New Year's Day. Thanks to those three people! You win The Best People Of Jeff's Week So Far Award!

I am not a fat orange.

Wheelchair Guy

2007-11-14T11:19:00.001-08:00

On my way to a friend's birthday party, I saw a hot guy in a wheelchair get on with some friends at the Bedford Ave stop on the L Train. He was totes adorbs and I instantly felt bad he was in a wheelchair. He smiled and laughed with his friend. I couldn't tell what was wrong with him - no cast or anything! I admired him from afar. He was so charming and sweet!

About 15 minutes into the party, the Wheelchair Guy arrived! He was a guest at the same party as me! How awesome! Such a cute, young, adorable, possibly gay-looking dude! He and his friends were even coming towards me! His guy friend who was pushing him was cute too... and not like, out of my league cute, like cute-cute, in the way I would feel comfortable and approachable! I even used to work with people with disabilities! I am so accepting! This party was gonna be awesome!

Then, he lost control of his wheelchair and bumped into the table. An entire glass of red wine spilled on my favorite work pants. He promptly apologized. Even though it sucked, and I was angry, I easily forgave the disabled cutie. We laughed it off and he offered to get me some seltzer water. I just excused myself to the restroom to take care of it. He apologized again and I left.

I returned from the restroom to find that some twatty looking girl was sitting in the wheelchair. Turns out the guy wasn't disabled in any way! WHAT A FUCKFACE! He was a perfectly able-bodied man who thought it would be funny to wheel around in a wheelchair! He turned out to be straight too! What a fuck!

Apology NOT accepted!

Just Jack

2007-11-13T20:22:00.000-08:00

Just Jack is just awesome. Just listen! Just download it!

...just stop it...

I Am A Vagina

2007-11-12T20:27:00.000-08:00

I had a very frustrating day. To be stereotypical about it, it WAS a Monday. Here is a chronological list of things that happened. Making a list helps me shit them out and make it so they won't ever effect me again...until the next time they happen.

1. Tripped on carpet walking into the office. Fell on my knees.
2. Broke favorite work pen.
3. Noticed I bought expired yogurt...after the first bite.
4. Old Lady Stupidface cussed for about ten minutes to nobody.
5. Had an emotional relapse regarding The Cleanse.
6. Listened to my new favorite song and ended emotional relapse.
7. Went grocery shopping and tripped on a black kid.
8. Black kid's mom yelled at me.
9. Melted Mentos ruined my favorite work shirt in the dryer. They were not my mentos.
10. Cried - actually sobbed - for about 15 minutes in my room.

I am a Lifetime Original Movie. I am a beautiful butterfly. I just grew a vagina.

It's just one of those days.

Fill My Holes!

2007-11-11T17:05:00.000-08:00

Our heat has not been on all season as of yet. I go to sleep shivering and wake up dead. Layered in thermals, sweatpants, socks, long sleeved t-shirt and a hooded sweater, I am still at the edge of certain doom. Luckily, this past Sunday, our landlord sent Tracy, The Heater Guy, to "fix" the heat.

After several hours of clanging and banging on Sunday morning, the heat finally was brought to life. It was so alive that one of the radiators in my room started hissing and smoking! Tracy, a jovial black guy, came in to assess the situation. He got on his hands and knees in my room - smoke and steam hissing uncontrollably. His cell phone rang. He answered it before continuing to work on the radiator. His happy demeanor vanished....

"Tracy...shit, what the hell do you want?...no, damn it....I told you no, motherfucker!...Look, I am at a persons house right now and i can't talk to you about this shitty bullshit!....I turned around and you were gone, motherfucker!...Your bag was gone, how do I know?....I can't talk to you anymore, I got people to service and you are hindering me from my goddamn business.....got it?...no, fuck you!....Fuck you!....OK, I'll be home later....Peace."

To turn the radiator off, he had to find a valve. It appeared that the valve was linked to the hose to the radiator. Unfortunately, it also appeared that the hose ran into and behind the wall. In a flash, Tracy punched three holes into my wall.

Dear Pests and Rodents of the Brooklyn Area,

Greetings! I hope this letter finds you happy and well! My name is Jeffrey Marx and I live on 947 Bedford Avenue in Brooklyn. With the holiday season approaching, I know not every rodent or pest has a warm home. I would like to invite you into my room. I have three easily accessible entries in the southeast corner of my adorable room.

I know that the city is hard on a rodent or pest, but I pride my room in being able to provide comfort and warmth this time of year. There will always be room in my room! You can find space in my shoes, my work pants from the day before, or even in my CD storage bin. Please call 917-645-8018 for reservations. Hell, nevermind - the door is always open! Just crawl on in!

Love,
Jeffrey Marx

As you can see, I have three different sized holes. Poppa Hole, Mamma Hole, and Baby Hole! Now you can fit all sort of things in my room! A baby mouse, a giant sewer rat, or even a zombie baby!

Ram Dass

2007-11-09T17:33:00.000-08:00

Sooo, I signed up for a one on one phone call with Ram Dass. His energy was intensely calm and bright - even through the webcam! I entered the phone call pretty much a blank slate as to what to expect. I read his book Be. Here. Now. awhile ago and have been a semi-regular on his website for a month or two. Upon my friend, Craig's, suggestion, I booked a "Heart 2 Heart" conversation.

The first 6 minutes were your basic questions - "Where are you calling from?", "How long have you lived there?", "What has your spiritual journey been like?" Wow, just cut to the chase, Ram Dass! A flurry of topics were discussed - my involvement in Re-Creation Summer Camp, Catholic High School, and the soul awakening car crash from two years ago. He asked me about love in my life. I explained that only twice in my life have I ever had feelings of overwhelming love for another person, to the point where I thought there could be a deeper relationship. I told him about my wonderful group of friends and how their love is so great. Lastly, I let him in on the love that is shared at summer camp. He simply replied, "You have so much love to give, why not give some to yourself?" That struck me.

He went on to say how he can love a tree and become the tree.

He spoke of everyone being connected to everyone and everything, how looking outside yourself for love can delay happiness, and how everyone is loving awareness. I commented on how that concept sounds warm and easy enough, but is so hard to maintain. "Getting lost in our own human thoughts and desires feeds the ego and keeps us from true and harmonious love" was his response. We talked about how being human is so complex. I told him about a quote I made up - "Being human is a science experiment for angels" - and he flipped! He loved it! He told me how right I was and asked if he could use that quote. I said, "sure"!

He said something about swimming in a pool of love. My mind wandered for a moment and recalled that I needed to go grocery shopping and forgive my dad soon.

We wrapped up the convo and he ended with saying "I am loving awareness" several times. I got the sense that I was supposed to either repeat after him or breakdown, like Matt Damon to Robin Williams in 'Good Will Hunting'. I was moved to repeat the mantra at one point and felt a small push of love on myself from within. It was a good feeling. He bowed a little and said, "namaste" and we waved goodbye.

Then, I dropped another hit of acid.

Prank Calls

2007-11-02T08:39:00.000-07:00

My friend Craig and I prank call each other's work every day. We know we will always get the other on the phone. It's a nice break in the call flow and usually funny. This past Monday, Day 2 of The Cleanse, he told me his girlfriends from London were coming to town that day and that I should meet them and that they are hilarious and awesome. Later that afternoon, the following call took place.

CALLER: (In a very proper English accent) Good day! Is the doctor in?
ME: I'm sorry, Dr. Schutte is in a meeting at the moment. Can I take a message?
CALLER: Oh that's a shame, we really wanted to speak with the doctor.

(At this point, it clicks in my brain that Craig's friends must have met him at his work and he had them prank call me. Oh, this is a good one! But, you have to try really hard to get one over on me. I decide to play along.)

ME: Yes, me too! Can I have your name and number? I will take a message for you.
CALLER: It's Agatha Primrose at The Lucashire Foundation.
ME: Oh? Never heard of it. Where is that at?
CALLER: We're a search firm based in London.
ME: Oh, I love London! So, you're calling from across 'the pond', then are you?
CALLER: Um, yes.
ME: So if you are a search firm, then you probably have spoken with Betty Crocker in our Advisory Office? (There is no such thing as an Advisory Office)
CALLER: Um, no actually. We were hoping to speak to the doctor himself. He comes highly recommended. We are looking to fill a position at 'university'.
ME: Oh, 'university'? Well, that IS important.
CALLER: Yes indeed! And we would like to talk to the doctor because he is an important man.
ME: Have you tried talking to Barack Obama? He is a pretty important man these days.
CALLER: I'm sorry?
ME: You know, the nice black man who is gonna try to run for President?
CALLER: Alright, sorry to have wasted your time.

Then, she hung up. I told Craig about it and said 'Nice try!' He told me his friends didn't get into town until that evening and they certainly did not prank call me.

Oops! Now I feel really bad for that lady. Especially since her name is Agatha Primrose.

The Master Cleanse Blog

2007-10-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

For the next ten days (and then some), I will be concentrating my blogging efforts at a new home. The Master Cleanse Blog is where my roommate along with some other peeps have decided to document our journey through 'The Cleanse'. We are all starting it at the same time! We will be 'eating' nothing but salt, water, maple syrup, cayenne pepper, lemon and lime juice, and an herbal laxative tea. Sounds like fun, right? No candy on Halloween this year....

Join us at The Master Cleanse Blog!

Fred for President

2007-10-27T21:07:00.000-07:00

So, it's the night before we start The Master Cleanse and I have been bonkers on youtube tonight. I did a show earlier - the sketch/performance piece I have involving a gay picnic, Funyuns, and a jar of mayo which we use as lubricant during sexual intercourse...oh yeah, and I am dressed as the Bumblebee Girl from the 'No Rain' video. Sounds weird on paper, but trust me, its a crowd pleaser.

How much do you love Fred? These kids have some great videos on youtube. They call themselves JKL Productions. Seriously, check them out. They are hilarious kids who live in Nebraska and are bored out of their minds. The kid who does 'Fred' is my favorite! Such great comic timing....love it. I'm thinking of voting for 'Fred' for president. Enjoy this video too!

Me Time

2007-10-26T07:40:00.000-07:00

Last night was the first night since I was born that I didn't have any plans or anything I had to do. OK, so I am exaggerating the birth starting point, but I cleared my schedule because I wanted to enjoy some 'me time'. I didn't even use it to jack off!

I canceled my therapist appointment earlier in the day with anticipation of going to the gym and then home to watch DVR. I got to catch up on 'America's Next Top Model', 'The Hills', 'South Park', 'Oprah', 'Prison Break' and 'Reaper' (the only new show of the season that has stayed programmed on my DVR - Fuck you 'Gossip Girl'). For a snack I had a pear and two white cheddar rice cakes. It got cold, so I wrapped myself up in my favorite blanket with patterns of all the astrological signs. The phone rang.

It was Dr. Womanface calling to reschedule. After a moments hesitation, I simply told her that I wasn't interested in rescheduling and that my instincts to quit when Dr. Awesomegay left were right. She was rather nonchalant about the whole thing. She thanked me for my honesty and wished me luck. I love that I broke up with a girl over the phone last night.

I thought about cleaning my room. I thought about doing my routine on my exercise ball. I thought about drinking some wine. I thought about eating a pot cookie. I thought about working on this new play I started last week. I decided to call my mom to talk about the possibility of me coming home for Christmas. She answered the phone from a Hank Williams Jr. tribute concert in Hollywood. She was "very happy". "Very Happy" is my mom's term for hammered off some wine in a box. I love it. She's adorable. We just chatted for a moment and I let her go to the concert.

Youtube and iTunes offered a nice opportunity to zone out. I made some new CD mixes and was finally able to burn the CDs Craig gave me into my ipod. I gabbed with Cody on the phone, read a little bit of the book he lent me, and then started reading a book Craig lent me. I haven't decided which one I am gonna start reading for real. One is about vampires and the other about molestation, which is really the same thing.

I ended up not really doing anything. And I loved it.

Six Pack

2007-10-25T18:40:00.000-07:00

1.) For some reason, I decided to drink four cups of coffee in the span of twenty minutes yesterday. I do not like coffee. I used to work for Starbucks and the thought of coffee killed me. I love the smell but hate the taste, just like gasoline, but the coffee was free and I got talked into trying it. I swear to God, for about 2 hours I thought I was on crystal meth. Then, I crashed and died of severe headache. Verdict? No more coffee. Just crystal meth.

2.) "Dumbledore is gay." I love how nonchalantly J.K. Rowling dropped that bomb. Sure, it makes sense to me. Better yet though is how she didn't mention it in the Harry Potter books. His sexuality wasn't a big part of the story. His sexuality was just part of him. No big deal! It shouldn't change how much you loved the books or the character! Point taken, J.K.! Gotta love those British folk, way to dish it out, Rowling! This little news tidbit was gonna have it's own blog, but then I decided... who cares?

3.) I am officially not going to therapy anymore. I am healed (mostly).

4.) To date, I have lost 17 pounds towards my weight loss challenge of 50 pounds in three months by New Years Day! Yay me! I have been doing very well in the food department, the gym has suffered a little bit though due to my new sketch class I started. Next week, a few friends and I are going to start The Master Cleanse in hopes of purifying our bodies, jump starting better eating habits, and finding out who will shit their pants first.

5.) I am taking a vow of celibacy. After calling it quits with Towel Boy and a cleansing hookup from manhunt, I have decided that I am "taking back my virginity" until I meet someone special. Don't laugh! I'm serious! Kissing and blowjobs are still in effect though... I'm not crazy.

6.) On a whim, I recorded some Oprah this week. I did not realize how far apart her eyes are from each other! What the fuck is that all about?

Can I Have Another?

2007-10-24T13:31:00.000-07:00

Yes you can.

I love these guys! They are in love with Mika way more than I am, and I love Mika! These dudes are genuinely hilarious!

Lollipop

2007-10-23T06:40:00.000-07:00

Attention world: Meet the future bisexual hipsters of America!

I bet they like lollipops.

Brooklyn Bridge

2007-10-22T11:43:00.001-07:00

Last night I had a two hour commute from my apartment in Brooklyn to Union Square in Manhattan. The subway lost power between High Street and Broadway/Nassau under the river! Trapped! For at least 30 minutes! Then, once we regained power, we were told that there was a 'smoke situation' at the Broadway stop (the one I needed to get off at, naturally) and that we would be going back into Brooklyn to High Street.

Once at High Street, everyone on the packed platform all started asking each other what was happening while the dumb ass train conductor kept making the same announcement over and over - "Attention ladies and gentlemen! There is no service at this station. I will give you more information once I have it." I listened to him say that in garbled Enhlish about 20 times before I decided to just follow some people over the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan.

Now, I have never walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. It was a very comfortable and breezy 69 degrees. I knew this because of the conveniently located thermometer on the bridge. I had had a pretty stressful day (laundry problem, bug infestation, serious talk with a friend, ran out of toilet paper) and everything just started melting away on this beautiful bridge. The skyline of the city, the happy tourists, the neighborhood bikers, and the perfect weather was overwhelmingly terrific so I called my mommy! We chatted for awhile and I crossed into Manhattan. My energy had totally been reset and recharged.

Thank you, Brooklyn Bridge!

The End of Towel Boy

2007-10-21T22:33:00.000-07:00

Towel Boy has officially been cut loose.

Friday night he took me to go see 'Gone Baby Gone', Ben Affleck's directorial debut from the writers of 'Mystic River', and smuggled in some Jack Daniels into the theatre. I am all for drinking. I thought it was cute when we got hammered when we went and saw 'Superbad'. I thought it was juvenile fun when we got smashed at an improv show in a basement in the east village. I saw red flags when he showed up tossed at the beginning of my house warming party and started telling girls he didn't know that he used to be bisexual and would totally fuck them if they had wanted. I like good-crazy, but crazy that I am not sure of is a turn off.

Usually he is all cuddly at the movies, but this time he cuddled his bottle alot more than me. You know what? I didn't miss it. Sure, heavy petting in the darkened movie theatre is fun, but not if there isn't any real connection (look - I never got to do it in high school, OK? So, the island of Manhattan becomes Land of Gay High School Coulda-woulda-shoulda's. Prom anyone?). Towel Boy has always seemed to be a little bit all about the sex. Yeah, regular, constant, awesome sex was great at the beginning of our....um, courting?... but it also made me realize that I am not really interested in sex unless there is something more to it anymore. What a girl I am!

After the movie we went to Gym Bar (gay sports bar, hilarious) and had some drinks. I asked him what he thought of the movie (I hated it, just like I hated 'Mystic River'). He looooved it. He thought Casey Affleck was really great and the "surpise" twists were genuine surprises (I saw both the twist and the fake twist from a mile away and Casey mumbled for two hours). We didn't really talk much. We watched some hot cub dudes make out in the corner. He watched some football game on TV. I really can't get behind his sports enthusiasm either. However, I am thinking of becoming a Red Sox fan just because I like how violent people get in the streets.

We went back to his place even though I just wanted to go home and watch 'Ugly Betty'. It was a block away so I might as well. He watched some bullshit ESPN shit on TV while I did my best to put forth a bottom vibe. This whole top/bottom/versatile thing has been an issue with him from the get go. We both said we were versatile when we met, but turns out he is a big old bottom. We talked about it once, and he was like, "oh yeah, I'm mostly a bottom, hope that's ok". Ugh! No, it's not! Boys, let's just all be versatile, shit! So stupid. They are both awesome!

So I hate fucked him for about an hour and, the next day over the phone, told him I didn't see this progressing any further than being a fuck buddy. He didn't seem too upset. While I will miss incorporating the act of fucking in my work out routine, I will not miss pretending there might be something there that isn't. I'm a busy guy, I don't have time for forced connections.

I think I am gonna sign up for match.com again. Also, I am taking applications for a good wing man if anyone is interested.

Mates of State are Grate

2007-10-19T13:38:00.000-07:00

After my second session with the new therapist (she's old and all womanly, ugh), I met up with Craig and we jetted over to Klong in the east village and had a lovely thai dinner with The Straights. They had tickets to go see New Yong Pony Club and Craig and I had tickets to go see Mates of State so we all thought it would be fun to get a little drunk before our shows.

Boy, those Thai people are pushy about getting us out of the restaurant! No shame! Sophia and I barely had time to finish our pomegranate martinis, so I gave Craig the infant message book I found at the garage sale in Pennsylvania and we all went to some shitty NYU bar around the corner.

We all drank too much for a Thursday night. Craig and I left The Straights at the bar and headed to the Lower East Side, where it can be a little scary when the streets are named after words and not numbers....

You know? I am so tired and hungover and it's raining out my window at work and I feel a little gloomy and an ounce of sad...I don't even care to finish this blog. How about that world? I think instead I will go to the bathroom and head into the city to get drunk again with Towel Boy. We're gonna see a movie and then I will probably have to fuck him, since he is a total bottom and, really, how annoying is that? About as annoying as not having sex in the first place.

Anyway, Mates of State were great. They are adorable. I can't wait for their new CD.

My Fave Blogs

2007-10-18T10:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes people ask me "What are your favorite blogs?" Also, people ask me "What do you do all day at work?" I think both of these questions can be answered today. Enjoy.

I Fucked Your Boyfriend - Hot blog about some hot gay dude, who is wayyy to into himself. The whole blog talks about how he is addicted to seeking out men with boyfriends and seducing them. He fucks the crap out of them, sometimes literally. Do yourself a favor and read this blog now! I wish he updated more.

FourFour - Hilarious gay guy does weekly recaps of 'America's Next Top Model'. He also posts videos about his wierd cat, Winston, and sounds off on all things pop culture. Everything he says, I think. I love him.

beepboop - One of my favorite improvisors posts the strangest pictures. Vintage make-up ads to bottle cap collections that have taken over the house. Sometimes there are 6th grade student essays on war. A hodgepodge of awesome, quirky shit.

Lady Bunny - My fave drag queen. Always funny. Wonderfully designed. Sheer comedy.

Tyler Duckworth - Rarely does a Real World cast member totally 'get it'. He is smart, hilarious, and wickedly spot on about the wonderful world of gymnastics. We became internet fans of each other's work through myspace, and now, I can't imagine a week without checking in on his website.

I also visit my friends blogs too. Beth, Brian, Craig, Jackie, and Kate are all noteworthy visits every time I swing by their sites. And although I am not 'friend-friends' with Isaac, I do love that he updates just about every day and always has something brilliant to say. Plus, he did make a trip from Washington Heights to my place in Brooklyn off the G.D. G train for a party, so that earns a place on my permanent blog roll.

Oh, and I must not forget my favorite hipster, Robert.... I am in love with his prose... and cockshots.

Hope you enjoy these new blogs I have brought to your attention. I get paid to read them every day. Thank you, Universe! What a kick ass job!

Serious Bathroom Problem

2007-10-17T07:57:00.001-07:00

I had this terrible issue happen today in the potty. Ever since I started this whacko diet, I will occasionally have a digestive...um, event. I wasn't going to blog about it, but I gchatted one of my besties about the situation and he told me I should. Well. Here it is. I just cut and pasted the whole...um, scenario.

10:03 AM me: omg
10:04 AM i just had a serious bathroom situation
i had this overwhelming sense of poo, not like regular poo, like, my stomach hurts and it MIGHT be diarrhea poo
10:05 AM so i ran in there, even with like 5 things going on in the lobby
did my poo
THEN
10:06 AM i went to pull my pants up and a wad of wet, poo water toilet paper dropped in my underwears, but i didnt know it so i pulled them up and got wet, poo water on my butt
i have no fucking idea how that happened, poo magic
so i freaked out a little and sat down
then some dude came in
10:07 AM and left so i knew he was waiting for me outside
so i put the wad of paper in the toilet and flushed
but it didnt flush
the chain had broke
no flushing
so i tried to dry my underwear with new toilet paper
10:08 AM and wiggle my underwear back and forth in the air to help it dry
then the dude came back in
and left
i think he heard me air drying my panties
so i tried ot flush again
no flush
THEN I HAD TO POO AGAIN
so i did
as i was drying my panties
10:09 AM finally they werent sopping wet so i am now wearing damp panities
and had to reach by hand in the toilet bucket to fix the chain, so my arm is all toilet watery
and then they were out of MOTHERFUCKING soap
10:10 AM so i had to wash my ARM in the kitchenette where this stupid old lady was making her coffee
the end.
Craig: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
OMG OMG OMG!!!!
LOL!
can I send this to Claire?!
me: yes
Craig: and can you please blog about it?!

Talky Feely

2007-10-16T13:08:00.000-07:00

I'm not a touchy-feely person. When the anti-drug slogan "Hugs not drugs" came out in grade school, I remember cutting the sticker to read "Drugs not hugs" and put it on the inside of my locker as a private joke to myself. My teacher noticed my young humor as she walked by and gave me detention. Even back then, I knew that I would rather smoke a doobie instead of hold an embrace. I sometimes wonder why.

However, I will talk about my emotions or feelings with others for hours - hell, in some cases, years. Even if the opportunity doesn't present itself face to face, I will eventually push it to something... even if its in a letter or an awkward gmail gchat. I once wrote a love letter on the back of a script for 'Hamlet'. So dramatic.

Today, I was sitting in the student cafeteria, when two arty kids came up to me. They were handing out "Free hugs" stickers. The boy didn't say anything, just opened his arms to me and the girl sat down next to me and said, "You wanna cash in?" I laughed and she smiled, then she hugged me. I had to stand up to retrieve my second free hug. The whole thing was a little awkward, but cute, and it got me thinking.

I should hug more. Usually, I get a quick sense of tightness and dread just before a hug. I think I will try to power through this strange phenomenon. Get ready for hugs, people! If you can't accept it, then you better get ready to give me an eight ball of coke or something.

Ee Aye Ee Aye Oh

2007-10-15T07:14:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I spent some time in Maryland. Well, it wasn't exactly in Maryland, per se, but it definitely was a Mary Land somewhere in Pennsylvania (long story). There were alot of trees that had began to change color, and everywhere you looked there were deer and leaves. I also had an overwhelming feeling that people whose lives are featured on A&E's brilliant show, 'Intervention', all lived within a ten mile radius. Nature, beauty, and underground meth labs, you get the picture.

Upon arrival to the farm, I was briskly pulled into the energy of the house. Harmoniously and exquisitely decorated, the house begged me to come inside further. I couldn't help feel magnetized and drawn to every corner - The Broadway Room, The Paula Deen Kitchen, The Leather Bar (decorated completely with Tom of Finland), The Art Studio, The Fire Pit, The Playground, The Cat Room, The Ravenclaw Room etc. etc. etc. I was told to make myself at home in The Ravenclaw Room. It was decorated in Harry Potter's Ravenclaw colors and even had a shield with some sort of family crest on it hanging above the bed. Oh yes, the bed. I formed a deep and loving bond with this bed. So soft, yet firm, large enough for my lengthy limbs, layered with country blankets and fluffy pillows, this bed was definitely not some IKEA piece of shit. I miss him already.

The first evening we partied it up in the basement bar. Whoever lived here in the 1960's or 1970's were living it up for sure. They had built a full sized bar. I envisioned scenes from 'Boogie Nights' and 'The Ice Storm' taking place - a myriad of Key Parties and Naugahyde furniture.

We had pancakes for breakfast the next day. I tried to feed some of mine to Pickels The Cat, but she hates me. I never met a cat who legitimately hates my guts. It's hilarious, but makes me sad. She hissed and scratched me when I went to pet her. What a whore. After breakfast, we went and stopped at a few garage sales in "town". One lady had an amazing amount of kitsch and 80's pop culture items. I will be blogging a separate post on these items at a later date. We went to a run down grocery store that wasn't really a grocery store. The one-toothed lady at the counter noticed my finger nails were painted black, "Oh my lord, you got them gothic nails! Well, I guess its the season!" I am glad it was, because the guy in line behind me looked like he would have taken a lead pipe to my precious little skull.

For dinner we made turkey tacos, but all four of us forgot the turkey meat so we had to go back to "town". I carved a black-faced pumpkin. We put on wigs and performed characters. Some people made a cake, but I pretended it was invisible. We tried to go for a bike ride, but the tires were flat, so we went to the playground and dry humped some see-saws. We unsuccessfully played Ouija board. Not even my two spirit guides, CJ and Peter, would talk to us. We were busy talking really fast about Britney Spears and motorcycle gangs so I can see why they must have thought we weren't too serious. I remember taking a hot rock from the fireplace and wrapping it in a towel to warm my bed before I passed out.

So much fun for a mini-vacation! The Straights and Chris (who is a delightful new friend - The Straights have been hiding him from me) warned me at the beginning of the weekend that I better not fuck up. They said the worst thing I could do was to not clean up after myself or cry alot (I guess there was an incident with a former guest). So I was happy the whole time and cleaned up everything! Anyway, I hope I passed the New Friend In Mary Land Test, because I wanna go back for New Year's! (Hint Hint)

Yaweh

2007-10-11T11:40:00.000-07:00

I thank my friend Craig, not THAT Craig, but THIS Craig, for revealing this truthful and powerful video to me. Yaweh is the most important thing in my life. Well, next to throwing a piece of crappy gold fabric over an office chair and swiveling around to songs of praise I made up in my basement. Do you notice how her gold hat falls off at the beginning and she just keeps going? This woman was born to be on stage.

I'm going to a farm in Pennsylvania this weekend. Later!

I Mette Bette

2007-10-08T07:36:00.000-07:00

I was walking down my nothing of a street in Brooklyn, dressed in sweaty gym clothes and pushing a broken cart full of dirty laundry when I came upon a gaggle of short black ladies surrounding a short, spunky white lady. I looked up and it was Bette Midler! I was so shocked that she was two feet away from me! My instant bodily response was to shriek "IT'S BETTE MIDLER!!!"

She looked up from the ladies of the community and her eyes widened as if to say, "Hello, my people! Hello, my one faggy friend in Brooklyn!" I greeted her and looked around. I asked, "What are you doing here???" All the black ladies had fallen silent as I had completely fagged out and was dominating Bette's attention. Turns out she was there to make a speech at the grand opening of our new community garden and park, which was only four doors down from my apartment. It was built and donated by Target, which had decorated the entire block in white and red spotlights and were passing out s'mores. Bette is the Chairman of the Board for Target's Community Garden Project. I love how she took that on as a fun and helpful thing to do! Bringing parks to poor neighborhoods! She came to meet "the people" and it turns out one of them is ME!

After shaking her hand, (I was gonna hug her because she seemed the sort of celebrity that it would be OK to do that with, but I didn't want to look totally crazy), she was whisked away into the garden party and I went to throw my laundry in the wash.

I passed the party several times, never going inside, but I did hear Bette make her speech. She was great. She inspired me to build a park or something. Then, she announced that there were fresh S'mores and everyone should 'get them while they're hot'! I am on a diet so I didn't eat them. I don't really like chocolate anway, so I wasn't bummed or anything. Bette Midler had just offered me a s'more! How could I be bummed?

I had to call my mom immediately after this meeting because, when I was little, I would make cast lists of my life. I would assign a celebrity to each person. I was always played by Sean Astin or River Phoenix. My mom, however, was always played by Bette Midler. I wanted to tell that to Bette, butte I bette she would thinkke that was really crazy. So I didn't.

Gayme Night

2007-10-07T10:53:00.000-07:00

Well our first Gayme Night in the new apartment was a success. No one got lost or killed on the way to our house in Bed Hill (Clinton Hill/Bed-Stuy border) and, G Train aside, no one had any complaints. There ended up being 13 people in attendance, which is a manageable number for gayme night. Nine gays, three hags, and a straight boyfriend of one of the hags... or 'fruit fly' as she calls herself. It really IS a cuter term then 'fag hag'.

I have hosted gayme nights in the past and it can become unruly. Not that the spirit of competition suffered, especially when we started to play 'Celebrity', everyone's favorite parlor gayme, where each person writes any five celebrity on five pieces of scrap paper. I had mentioned that the celebrities be 'intermediately hard'. Once everyone was settled, we went over the rules.... the very, very controversial rules.

West Coast & Syracuse Rules
Round One: You can say or do anything you want to get your team to guess the celebrity, with the exception of actually saying their name or doing a 'sounds like'.

Round Two: You can do whatever you want, but you can only say one word.

Round Three: No verbals. Just charades.

East Coast & Great Lakes Rules
Round One: Same as above.

Round Two: You can only say one word. No movement, no gestures, no facial expressions, no breathing, no thinking of anything else except that one word you said.

Round Three: Same as above.

I am convinced this point of contention will be the downfall of me and my roommate's relationship at some point. We each believe the other person is crazy and trying to cheat. We each think it is impossible, to ever have heard of such a thing, that there is any other way to play this gayme. One of us will end up moving from our amazing apartment after a horrible gayme of 'Celebrity' goes terribly, terribly awry. There isn't even a way to call 'House Rules' since we both disagree on this very important, very touchy subject.

Anyway, my team (Team Sarah) was ahead by one point at the end of round two, but we were so frustrated by these silly rules that we forfeited the gayme to the other team (Dicktown). Instead, we all played Flirt With The Gay Guy No One Knew and followed that up with a gayme or two of Let's Have A Dance Party And Play The New Britney Song A Million Times. We ended the evening with a final gayme of Who Wants To Do Poppers For The First Time.

Six Things (Six Pack)

2007-10-04T10:42:00.000-07:00

1. I wore a Yankees T-Shirt yesterday. Apparently there was a "big game" that night. Three people stopped me on the subway to ask me who won "the game", even though I had headphones on and was listening to Madonna. Each time, I dramatically took the headphones out of my ears and replied "I don't know and I don't care." I am shattering people's views of Yankee fans everywhere I go. I just wear the shirt because it's campy.

2. An over-sized women had an over-sized handbag with an teeny tiny puppy zipped up inside, seemingly trapped. She stood in front of me ordering a banana and a Diet Coke. Someone has issues.

3. I finally watched 'Gossip Girl'. It was terrible. Anyone trying to compare it to 'The OC' should be arrested. The cast has all gone to the Mischa Barton School Of Acting and Eye Fluttering, but other than that, this show is a tepid, prime-time soap opera with lots of not-really-hot hot people.

4. Some bike messenger guy yelled at me when I was running across the street to catch a bus. I had the right of way. He almost ran me over and screamed, "Way to go, tubby!" First of all, who uses the word 'tubby' anymore? Second of all, I cried on the bus.

5. Remember when I was 332.8lbs last week? Well, this week I am 323.6lbs. That is a loss of 9.2lbs. Way to go me. Awards all around. Yay, yay, yay. Don't be too jealous when I look like Brad Pitt in 'Fight Club'.

6. We're getting new art in the office today. New art is always a big ta-doo. The old bitchy lady who slurps when she eats told us today that she didn't want any pictures of naked men on the wall in front of her. She bellowed, "If I wanted a naked man, I would go and get myself a naked man! Don't put that penis in my face!" There were so many replies that I wanted to say, they all overloaded my brain and I can't remember any of them.

Whatever, Security

2007-10-03T10:36:00.000-07:00

Coachella Valley Music Festival used to be one of my favorite Southern California activities that I would attend every year. I haven't been able to go back since moving to NYC and that's very sad. Not as sad as how afraid I am of those creepy windmills out there in the desert, but sad anyway.

Several years ago I lost my mind at Coachella. All day I was wearing a navy blue T-shirt with "SECURITY" printed in bold yellow lettering. I didn't think anything about my choice of clothes until later that night in the dance tent. Two of my best gays and I decided to push our limits and ingest an entire eighth of shrooms. I was dancing/flying through the music and people, in the middle of a terrific experience, then, out of the electronic shadows, a guy threw himself at me and pushed me on the ground, yelling "Whatever, security!". My brain twisted. My soul caught on fire. I knew I had to leave the dance tent immediately.

Outside in the fresh air, I was a little relieved. I felt like everyone had seen and heard the incident. I was embarrassed and felt bad that I possibly gave someone a bad trip for thinking I was "SECURITY". I thought I should go meet up with my besties back at the spot we designated as a meet up point, but that spot was back inside the tent! I definitely could not go back there! I had been invisibly banned form entering the tent. That was absolutely not an option. I walked away from the tent towards the bright ball of purple and blue thunder.

Along the way, I passed a group of hot chicks that were giggling. As they floated by, a blonde one laughed and said, "Whatever, security!" I walked faster away from them. I couldn't believe everyone knew about this incident! I got so self-conscious of my shirt, I had to get rid of it. A brilliant idea ignited. I will go to the bathroom and turn it inside-out! Problem solved! I will be able to go back to the tent and see my friends!

The problem with the outhouse situation was that it was an outhouse. Every hippie and coked out frat dude were told to poo in this muddy, stinky, slippery field-like area. There were no lines, just a mob of sweaty humans - way too crowded. I wondered where Cameron Diaz went to the bathroom when she was at Coachella the year before. I wanted access to that bathroom. Just as I was about to walk into a stall, I heard a voice behind me say, "Whatever, security!" I turned around and saw some teenager boy laughing. What an asshole! Why do you have to keep reminding me? I ducked inside the outhouse and turned my shirt inside-out. Done deal! All better! The inside of the dingy bathroom felt like salvation.

Upon exiting I heard someone say, "Oh thats the guy with the security shirt, he just turned it inside-out." My head exploded and I ran away. Off in the distance I heard the soothing sound of Bjork. I followed her voice.

I got lost and ended up sitting down next to a deserted trash can at the edge of a field. I played the What's-in-my-pockets game for a few minutes/hours. I studied the intensity of a one dollar bill. A straw wrapper freaked me out. Bjork sang about children. I looked up from a giant blade of grass and an old dude looked down at me. "Whatever, security!" he said and threw his half-eaten burrito in the trash. I clearly was not welcome at Coachella any longer. Even though the tent was a world away, word had spread about my shirt and I was a marked man - the scarlett letter.

I traveled through the other end of the huge polo field and out the front entrance. I thought if only I could get to my car and listen to some of my CDs, I could get myself back to "normal" and re-enter society. Sitting in my mom's Aerostar mini-van proved to be a whole new problem. I sat down and automatically buckled my seat belt. I reached back to grab my CD case and couldn't reach so I tried to unbuckle my seat belt. It was stuck. I thought I was just tripping so I tried again. No, it was actually, very soberly, broken. I was trapped. Without music, without love, and without sanity. I came up with a plan.

I figured I would look suspicious just sitting in the front seat of my car, so I pretended to talk on my cell phone. The occasional hippie in the fields looked at me, but I didn't care because I was busy "talking on the phone". Then the phone actually rang and I almost pooped my pants. I talked to a few friends over the next several minutes/days and grounded myself a little better. I turned the radio on to a decent station (static?) and closed my eyes. I watched the little movies unfold in my little head for a little while. I zoned out and fell asleep? Anyway, I was startled by a loud knock at the window. It was my bestie gays! I had felt so separated from them and I was so happy to see them! I was instantly back to "normal". They hopped in the car.

One of them said, "Whatever, security!" I almost died. Without missing a beat he went on to explain how some security guard was being a jerk to them on the way out. It was then I realized that I hadn't heard all of those people say that (except the first guy who knocked me down). I was tripping! We were all so excited to be together again. They had been looking for me the whole time! I told them I was trapped in the belt and they had to use a switchblade and set me free. We drove to the Motel 6 and I was so excited to be in a new place.

Then my foot started to feel like it was falling off.