Ain't No Thing Like a Chicken Wing

I feel like crap right now. Anyway, why is it that when you're walking down the street feeling fresh with perfect hair, clear skin, and your awesome new shoes all you get is ogled by a creepy Mexican man looking you up and down saying "Jes, jes, jes..." but it's not until you're already three sheets, falling over, and have just eaten a plate of fries the size of your head (which NOT SURPRISINGLY makes your FACE look like a plate of fries) that you meet the charming sexy man of your dreams and he's Spanish and rich and his apartment overlooks the river?

This is a fact of life. It is also a fact -- and I did a scientific study last year to this effect -- that if for some reason the charming sexy man of your dreams takes your greasy ass home for a pity whatever (ahhh, The Spaniard, you are no longer a secret) you wake up with your face no longer looking like a plate of fries, having magically metamorphed to look like a chicken wing. It's like Pokemon. "Congratulations! Your GREASY evolved into GROSSY!"

Questions to ponder. I bring this up because while I met the Spaniard last year, I met the Jes Man on Sunday before Pride. Here ends the Introduction section of this post. Let's talk about Pride Weekend even though it's totally last month's news.

Pride was fun. Can that be all I say? Typing hurts my brain right now.

Fine, whatever, so I went to Lips for brunch where I was mocked by this SWINE of a drag queen ("What are you supposed to be? Harry Potter?? What, did chess club get cancelled?" AT LEAST I DON'T RECYCLE JOKES! I'll stupefy her ass! More like STUPIDFY!) Then we went to Pieces where a sexy guy on a drug cocktail hit on and touched ALL of my friends except for me. Is it crazy to want something you don't even want? STUPEFY! Also it rained.

Then I went to this awesome party at the Highline Ballroom called Color Me Queer. It was a South Asian gay party, which pretty much guaranteed me being the tallest one in there. Instant win! They were playing Bollywood music and American pop with a sort of Bollywood feel. Videos and all. VERY cool. Then this drag queen came out doing Indian dance, and I kinda fell in love.

But not in a sex way.

Ummmm, then I drank out of a fish bowl at a bar filled with 20-year-olds. Then I got irrationally mad at my friend's friend's friend for like two seconds and felt like a 15-year-old girl. Then I went home so my perceived age wouldn't plummet any lower.

Also, I found her:

Please ignore how ASSY and shiny I look in this picture. This was the end of a very long day. That's my friend Sam in the middle there.

Anyway happy belated Pride. I'm gonna go vomit up my hangover now.

AS PROMISED!

Yeah, who wants to do me now? I bought a two-month supply of band-aids for until the thing goes away completely and the redness fades.

Anyway now I'll talk about something else I WENT SHOPPING! After work I was walking up 5th Ave. to go have a nice free afternoon in the park when I saw this beautiful jacket in the Versace window so I veered in. The jacket ended up being $5,000 so... no. But I love being tended to in these places, and this gaysian guy kept telling me about everything and seemed to think that I could afford ANYTHING, so it was kinda nice, and I ended up getting these shoes that were totally awesome and half off. I've wanted white shoes for a while. I've wanted silver shoes for a while.

BAM I got both for half. I'm the best shopper ever.

Thrilling conclusion

Great news, it wasn't a cyst after all, but a viral abcess! He froze it with this cold air gun that looks like you'd clean your keyboard with it. I said it stung a little and he told me my body can't feel the difference between heat and cold, and I was like "Thanks, quack dermatologist, but it feels cold to me!" Anyway if it doesn't completely disappear in 4 weeks I have to come back.

Right and then I went to the bank and was charged THREE FREAKING DOLLARS to get money out of the Chase ATM. Anybody remember when that stuff was $1? I know! Yeah, so does anyone else remember when there was a good reason that shit should cost anything at all?

After paying Chase $3 to use two cents of electricity to spit some bills at me, I went to my cafe and had a chicken salad sandwich and cafe au lait for $11.50. The chicken salad sandwich came with nothing. It's the most overpriced place I know about, but I still like going there and I only do it after seeing my quack dermatologist, which I haven't done in almost a year and a half anyway.

I gotta go home now bye.

Customer needs acystance

Ok full disclosure: I have this gross red bump cyst thing on my abdomen right where my beautiful skin should be. Some people have suggested it's an ingrown hair, but I don't have any hair there so I'm thinking it's a new strain of melanoma or something. Whatever it is, it most seriously needs to go away without scarring because this used to be my favorite part of my body. I'm going to my quack dermatologist today during lunch, which is a double win because it's right near this awesome bakery/cafe on Lexington. Actually it's a TRIPLE win because my boss isn't in today so I can take a slightly long lunch.

Anyway if you're lucky maybe I'll post some pictures later. Meanwhile watch this video I watched two times this morning.

Woe Betide

I don't care who you support or what your politics are. I'm very open-minded that way. But if you use the phrase "Barack 'n Roll" we are no longer friends.

Now it's time for math class. Solve the following:

(boss supposed to be gone but comes anyway) + (you came in late because boss is supposed to be out and so instead of leaving early, you have to say extra late) + (major dry eye today) + (flat awful hair) + (promise of going home to do long-postponed laundry) = ????

The answer is SHITTY DAY! The extra credit answer is SHITTY LONGEST DAY EVER!

Did you know that when I type things in all caps I imagine it's funny? But one time I heard someone quoting my blog out loud, and he did the caps lock parts all wrong, like with all this anger, and now I can't figure out why he thinks I'm funny. Actually all your internal voices are probably wrong, so I don't know why anyone at all reads my blog OH WAIT that's right nobody does.

Also my friend Matthew (you know my friend Matthew) wants everyone to know that Yelp made him famous. You should all get to know my friend Matthew by reading that interview and his blog or instead reading the following description:

Matthew is a Jew. His hobbies include talking about how great he is, taking pictures of himself with the same expression on his face, and dating some other Jew.

Nupshuls

White people wedding alert!

Here we have the back of my lovely cousin's head and the blurry face of my childhood best friend. They got married this weekend in Chicago, and it was a really really lovely wedding. Among the Top Two of weddings I have gone to, and that's not even counting the Swedish meatballs.

Anyway it was a Catholic wedding, and I guess that means only white people are welcome because that's all there was except this one Pakistani kid, a friend of the groom's. At first I was surprised I noticed such an anomaly, but then I was surprised that I was surprised. And then I just sat there for a few minutes thinking to myself "WOW, I can't believe this wedding is REALLY all white people." Then I remembered my upbringing and I wasn't surprised anymore.

This is my sister and my mom. I turned on the wind machine for this one.

Another reason I liked the wedding is because I was a freaking local celebrity there, being the only person who was both bride-side and groom-side. I was also voted Most Frequently Viewed in the Jennie/Jason Growing Up Video Slideshow playing in the lobby of the country club. (I told you it was a white people wedding.)

Further highlights included the Swedish meatballs again, the Cake of Simple Elegance, my cousin Erica coming through with Aleve for my sinus headache, and "accidentally" being in the bathroom for the duration of the Chicken Dance. But the best part of the day was when I told my mom I hated weddings like this because I could never have one, and she told me not to worry and that I'd have one just as good. She told me all about my cousin's commitment ceremony with her lesbian partner and how it was even bigger. (I couldn't go.) So my mom said all I had to do was wait for my crazy racist homophobic grandma to die and I could have the wedding of my dreams with all my family there. So any minute now. It really was a comfort. I felt much less alienated.

She also reminded me I should find a fiance first, but I reminded her that that's the easy part.

Oh and then my camera started malfunctioning on the dance floor when I wanted to get some shots of my sister and cousins dancing, and the hired photographer came over to give me some advice. It wasn't helpful and when I asked him something specific he said he "didn't know my camera" even though it was a general purpose question, so he got an F for Advice and a D for Effort, but an A+ in Fucking Annoyingness and a B- in Looking Like a 50-Year-Old Virgin.

In conclusion, I'm secretly a sappy person and I always cry at weddings, even Catholic ones. My favorite part is when the new family goes to pray to the porcelain baby and he tells them what to do.

UPDATE: In further conclusion, the following is a picture of my grandma's first cousin, Bernice, who is one of my favorite people in the world and this picture is part of the reason why:

Don't be mad but I had more fun than you last night

I had serious hangover starvation this morning, I thought I was gonna pass out on the subway, which decided it needed to stop for half an hour because someone got sick at 68th St.

I'm sorry but if you're not feeling great and it's 80 degrees outside, be smart enough to keep yourself hydrated. And if you're the MTA, if someone gets sick on the train, push 'em out and move on. If they barfed, well... fine, but that doesn't take half an hour. Whatever, I'm over it. Maybe it was a heart attack or something. I can see how that would be a time sucker and hard to predict.

Anyway, I went out with Kevin last night, and we had happy hour at Gym Bar where we ran into this tiny little friend of his who was Italian and really tan and had a hat with his name on it and one of those narrow thin beards that just traces the jawline. Is there a name for those? Anyway, his name is Anthill or something and he's the type of guy who knows DJ's and goes to parties and stuff. That type usually doesn't mix with the type who can be perfectly happy spending an entire weekend with his Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs, but for some reason I totally fell in love with this kid, and I realized it's because he's got this friendly inclusiveness that makes me feel really good about myself.

Too bad Kevin LEFT ME and then when I finished my drink I felt too uncool to go say goodbye to Anthill so I snuck out. Social outcast alert!

I also ran into this guy I met two years ago and never talk to, but who is very thin. We said "Call me, we should hang out!" which is the same conversation we had a year ago around this time.

Oh, and I met a kid from Afghanistan who looks like he's from Iowa. He was also very small and thin. I wanted to ask how to say "I'm a big fat cow" in Farsi, but having also spent a large portion of his childhood in India, I was afraid he would think I was being arrogant.

Motherfucker.

MOTHER. FUCKER.

That is all.

Another visit from the Disapppointment Fairy!

Ok I'm back. Y'know how it sucks to get shitty news through the grapevine or by overhearing people talking when they don't know you're there like maybe you're sitting in a toilet stall and two other guys walk in talking about how much fun it was tag-teaming your wife? Only this time it was me at my desk eavesdropping as this guy from another library in my system was telling someone else that a girl he works with is taking a certain job. Yeah and what neither of them knew was that this is a job that I INTERVIEWED FOR and that I WANTED REALLY BAD so it was this horrible shitty moment and WHAT THE HELL, I even told the job to call me and let me know whether I got it or not and they never did I guess. I think I'm entitled to that. It's not like I'm applying to work at fucking Pottery Barn, this is a professional organization and they should stick to their word.

Whatever. So I'm not moving to Chicago. I didn't really want to leave New York anyway.

Anyway, in honor of Shitty News Day I'm getting ice cream on the way home and then ordering one of those big honkin' avocado and onion burgers from Jackson Hole. I eat my feelings.

Man, sometimes I wish I were a 16-year-old girl, I'd be such a cliche.

Vampire romance... more like TRAMPIRE ROMANCE!

I just rekindled my two-year-old tradition of sitting out in Bryant Park during lunch and getting tan! I'm so dark right now I look like a... well still like a vampire, but maybe one who's slightly embarassed.

Anyway now I'm back at work and I'm soaking wet and smell like a slaughterhouse. I also think I'm all uneven because I was more interested in lying on my stomach and reading my book than lying on my back and getting color on that side.

Yeah, I'm totally obsessed with this book even though it's annoying and exasperating and I'm 10 years too old for it. I'm reading Twlight by Stephenie Heyer, who can't spell her own name so she decided to write a novel about a teenage girl with no distinguishing characteristics except vague bouts with depression--that is to say no distinguishing characteristics--and the vampire boy she loves, played by Cedric Diggory in the upcoming movie.

Anyway it's awful because the girl is essentially in lo--well let me just copy/paste the comment I left on my friend's blog because i know you all care SO MUCH what I think about this book you'll never read. I encourage you to skip it.

I find it really exasperating that Bella lets Edward treat her like he does. He gives her nothing but cryptic non-answers and then gets mad at her when she doesn't do exactly what he wants, and she just sits there taking it like some idiot girl who cares about a boy more than her own self-respect. Essentially she's staying with him for being "pretty" and "mysterious", and we have enough vapid teenage girls in the world who already ascribe to this sentiment that we don't need Stephenie Meyer encouraging them.

He also lashes out at her for his own faults. If he's really SO dangerous and cares about her SO much, he's being incredibly selfish by imposing himself on her all the time, yet when he gets tempted to eat her or whatever it is, somehow it's her fault for not leaving him alone? I don't THINK so, buddy.

I also have a problem with the fact that he is drawn to her unpredictability. Of COURSE he finds her unpredictable. She's the only person he can't read. He's never had to PREDICT anybody's actions. So it's not that she's especially unique (because she's not), it's just that he doesn't have the usual early warning system telling him what to expect.

BLAH so it annoys me. Maybe I'm too old for the book. BUT, considering I read over 300 pages in one sitting and have so many feelings about it, it's obviously doing something right.

My favorite part is that it's in the first person so I spend a lot of time pretending I'm gazing into Cedric Diggory's eyes and admiring Cedric Diggory's beautiful muscles and kissing Cedric Diggory's.... hm.... I'm definitely reading the rest of the series.

In conclusion, you should all read this book because it's ACTUALLY rather good even though I happen to hate everybody under the age of 21.

Not everyone in the book, I mean everyone in the world.

That is... unless that under-21er reads my illustious blog, in which case I don't hate you, but I seriously question your intelligence for enjoying a blog that a 4-year-old would scoff at. And possibly pee on. Do 4-year-olds still wet themselves?

Whoa, gotta go.... just overheard a bombshell...

Sabon

I went to Sabon today and bought some new awesome skin care products and I came home and showered and used my new scrub and lemon-mint moisturizer and my skin is so soft and fragrant that my cat won't stop licking me.

Update. XANADATE!

Great news, everybody, we got a new office pencil sharpener! The old one would choke and sputter if you didn't put the pencil in exactly so, and you'd be afraid it would start spewing sparks and smoke and set the whole place aflame starting with your stray hairs. It was time for a replacement. Sigh. Life's like that. One day you're lively and whirring and getting plenty of wood jammed in your hole, and the next you're cast aside for the next generation with their trendy lines and smooth faces. Even though it's the same old ugly stumpy pencils, suddenly you can't measure up.

Luckily, MY life's not like that because I don't date old people who only use me for my body... which is really the only category of people that metaphor fit. Moving on, I'm seeing Xanadu again. I guess it's Boys' Night so it'll be all G's and their G friends. Reception to follow. I am excited except instead of like last time when I sat in the on-stage audience and stared at Cheyenne Jackson's ass the whole time, this time I will have to look at his face and arms. I can adapt.

To conclude, watch this but not for 2 straight hours like I did because it's pretty much the worst best gameshow ever made.

I have this total cottage cheese craving right now.

Hi I'm back. I'm a really busy guy lately. In a nutshell, here is what I am busy with:

More of the same.

If you want more detailed details, you can make them up and if they have to do with playing video games, eating pastrami, or seeing the new Indiana Jones movie, you are correct.

I was going to write about my reunion, remember?, only I realized that I don't feel like talking about my FEELINGS. Basically let's say that I still love all my old college friends, and even though we've all grown and changed, we still fit together really well, and I also pretty much think we should all live in the same place again. I approached the weekend thinking we'd sort of relive our past experiences, but we really weren't doing that even though we spent half the time talking about that past. This was especially evident when we realized all the restaurants we used to like SUCK NOW! Talk about dropping the freaking ball. Who'd have thought Asian food could suck so hard in podunk Ohio?

Nothing else has really changed, though, oh except this beautiful freshman turned into an UGMO fifth-year. But other than that, Yoko's still loco, my old professor is still robbing the cradle, and the conservatory library smells as it always did and makes me tired.

This is Bonnie taken in my totally dank dormroom with zero light.

This is Kim.

This is Kimtard.

Here is Chris and Janey.

Here are the most delicious garlic tots ever. My breath reeked for a week.

This is me and my pot belly in the con library.

These are the chairs in the library I slept in more than my bed.

Lastly, Mischka took this, but Bonnie and Jill look so beautiful I wanted to share.

Ok, that's all. I have to go do a crossword now so I can learn new words with which to dazzle your mind!

Coming soon...

I don't know what happened, but last night I got a total of 15 hours of sleep and woke up with that headachy lethargy that takes a while to shake. I guess that reunion tuckered me out and I can't handle that college lifestyle anymore even though this weekend's lifestyle included full nights of sleep as well as afternoon naps.

Anyway, I slept through the time I was meant to be processing pictures, so you don't get to hear about it yet. I know it kills you.

Dudes, I'm totally at my 5-year college reunion and nobody recognizes me because I'm SO TOTALLY DIFFERENT and such a turnaround beauty, right?

I'm totally wearing a new bracelet and pendant and pretending I love my job so everyone things I'm the picture of success.

Oh shit I forgot the library totally closes for lunch, which is so retarded, but I gotta go k bye.

Not Scott 2

So that guy who found No Ass Me in that porn a few weeks ago has now found Total Dweeboid Me at an Obama Rally in Oregon.

He didn't say which one it was, but it was pretty obvious. But seeing as though I've never been to Oregon, I don't really support Obama that hard, and my mouth only makes that shape in select circumstances, you can tell he's a total imposter. I like his shirt, though.

Anyway last Friday I went to a Gay Blogger Meetup hosted by the illustrious David where I managed to meet zero new gay bloggers because I am socially awkward. That's not true, I talked to a couple people, I just don't know who they are. One was rude to me in this superior way and I was like "WhatEVER I could cool you under the table!" but everyone else was pretty nice. Too bad I have no idea who any of you are and didn't give out the name of my blog really. I wore my Princess Peach tie.

Anyway my socially awkward antics continued last night at this dinner party called Sup that The Architect dragged invited me to. Basically every month this guy gets a chef and and bunch of people to come over and you all eat this delicious food they make. And you pay because it's expensive to buy all that stuff. It's all word of mouth apparently, so... Right basically nobody there had a normal job, they all have cosmo-sounding jobs like "architect" or "interior designer" or "lingerie designer." Nobody was just like "I'm in retail" like you hear everywhere else, so I was totally out of my league. Luckily "music librarian" is pretty cool so people were fooled into thinking I might have class even though I wouldn't eat half the foods they put in front of me like the mushroom or the green soup. The food was really really amazing, tho, maybe I should say that so I can get invited back.

The lingerie designer found my pickiness appealing, so she was my first new friend. I also made friendly with the interior designer, who does really neat work if you follow the link on his black business card (because everyone but me apparently has fucking business cards). He grilled me on music, and I owe him an e-mail telling him to listen to Gorecki 3 and Schnittke 8, oh but I gave him my blog address let's see if he actually reads it I'LL KNOW IF YOU LIE TO ME DUDE!

Another person I liked was this gregarious video game producer who invited me over for dinner and Rock Band sometime. Considering how much time I spend sitting on my ass playing video games lately, it's pretty much an ok idea.

UPDATE: While self-obsessively trolling my blog stats, I found I was linked to by one of the nice guys I talked to for more than two seconds on Friday at the blogger thing. His name is Hawley and you should all be friends with him immediately. I guess I gave out some info after all, I am SUCH the networker PR CAREER HERE I COME!

Blorgh!

I'm so glad I got two hits to my blog yesterday from people searching for "xtube super fat belly boy" because that pretty much sums me up completely these days. I've decided to up my work-out commitment because gay marriage is no good to me if I look like a cow in all my pictures. Ok new topic.

Artist's rendering

So a couple things. First of all, I'm watching Krull, some 80's fantasy/sci fi movie starring Ken Marshall and I have no idea what's going on in it because I'm not paying any attention WOW but I just looked at the screen and Liam Neeson is in it for some reason.

Anyway I mostly like it because the female lead had bad teeth and Ken Marshall looks kind of like a rugged Errol Flynn.

Oh look an alien.

Also I realized I don't think I've shared any pictures of The Architect which is mostly because he told me he's not photogenic and then proved it. .... wait maybe I have shared a picture OMG I DID I just remembered the fire-breathing one. Anyway here's another:

Alright I'm falling asleep. I don't think I'm going to make it through the end of this movie. Oh speaking of giving up in the middle of 80's movies, The Architect and I watched half of The Blue Lagoon last night and after all of Brooke Shields' lines, I'd hear in my head Fake Brenda Dickson saying "That was acting. Thank you."

Gay Marriage in California

So at about 1:00 today, and after 2 years of deliberation, the California Supreme Court announced that it is unconstitutional to disallow same-sex marriages in the state. Want some tiresome legalese? Granted. My friend directed me to p. 120-121, which is a relatively readable portion.

I'm assuming this is exciting, yes? I'm hesitant to pick out a cumberbund just yet because a) I'm politically/legally ignorant, b) I don't know if I want black, white, or grey at my wedding, and c) the issue has had this torrid history... and I also haven't gotten to read any reactions, so I'm forced to come up with my own opinions, and that's never very easy for me. :-/

But my informed, worldly lawyer friend mentioned that he believes the CT and U.S. courts may use this in upcoming decisions. NY also has a pending decision, if I'm not mistaken. The three states plus MA make up a fair portion of the U.S. population.

So I suppose I'll go ahead, pop a cork, and drink to the Supreme Court of California. Thanks for being rational! I knew republicans weren't all bad. Now let's just see how this plays out.

UPDATE: I just realized I never linked to an actual news article so here you go.

Youth

Barf me out, man if my mother breastfed me until I was 8 I'd sue her for making it impossible for me to form a regular social relationship with ANYONE. I'd probably also be into men with tits.

I was never breastfed at all, and it didn't make a damn bit of difference in my life.

Look at this picture from when I was 18.

Wasn't I attractive? I used to use this picture on slutty websites because it got a good response, but I eventually stopped because I felt like I was lying. That's one thing I appreciate about my college experience in northern Ohio: If I didn't go to school in such a tiny shit town with nobody to meet, I'd probably have some of those STDs that don't go away.

The Architect: today you get me. wonderful me.
me: how much are you worth?
The Architect: 2$
me: Unacceptable.
I blogged.
I didn't tell you this story on purpose yesterday because I wanted to blog about it.
Is that some sort of social condition?
I think it is.
Also 2$? What nationality are you it's $2.

Manners in the Middle Ages

I forgot to tell you about yesterday when I was walking down the sidewalk to lunch with my coworker and there were a million people about (because it's Midtown) and this woman in her sixties (probably fifties) came up behind us trying to walk all fast. I saw her in my keen peripheral vision, but before I could even react to get out of her way she was all "Jesus Christ...." under her breath like "why aren't these people catering to my every whim?" I'm thinking HELLO your line is "excuse me" you entitled little harpie! Luckily I was feeling good and felt like giving some back, so as I moved I said "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were in such a hurry." Then she rounded on me and said "I have a JOB! Maybe one day you'll get a job and then you'll understand!"

Clever retorts exploded into my brain like my muse had this huge, epic O, but they were overshadowed by my coworker and I doubling over in laughter. She walked on and didn't look back, at which point my coworker and I started talking about how she probably thought I didn't have a job because I was wearing jeans. (That's a tardy conclusion, btw, nevermind the fact that no self-respecting 20-something would ever be caught dead hanging around midtown at 1:30 in the afternoon unless they worked there.)

Anyway, since my jeans made me unemployed, we decided that her leopard print trenchcoat, bleached hair, and black leggings made her a washed-out Russian hooker late on her way to blow some John on his lunch break. Some people get ALL the class, you know?

So yeah if you meet some trussed-up old banshee from the softer side of Sears who invokes Christ instead of showing some manners, you can tell H.R.H. I said hi and that I apologize for brushing up against her fetching red pleather handbag as she shoved my layabout ass aside.

Get Over It

Eat your heart out, guys, I got another Connexion message from Melvin! He is 49 and enjoys reading "LOTR and religious books."

Connexion is this gay facebook-type site that I found in grad school because it shares a name with the cooperative cataloging client that I use 8 hours a day every day. When I tried to go to the client's website for the first time, it was this gay networking site, and I was like OMG WEIRD! Nobody uses it, but I have a librarian pen pal in NH who I correspond with through there, so I sign on now and then. I wonder if he found the site the same way.

Anyway that's all I have to say about Melvin except that this is like the third message I've gotten from him that says "write back if interested" and nothing else. I don't feel bad ignoring them because I'm just following instructions.

Speaking of shitty teen romantic comedies, I watched Get Over It last night because I am stupid. It's like 10 Things I Hate About You without the cleverness or charm or Heath Ledger but with Kirsten Dunst and her teeth like a mouth full of broken glass.

The plot is this cute guy loves this hot redhead until she dumps him for a boy band singer and he joins the school play to get her back but falls in love with Kirsten Dunst instead for some reason. I'm kinda surprised I made it through, but I did. Here's how I felt after:

Don't see it. I know you're all disappointed. In case you decide to disobey me and see it anyway, just remember that Sisqo is in it and you'll change your mind.

Anyway since this entry is filled with unpleasant topics like Melvin and Kirsten Dunst, I'll cheer you up by letting you look at that picture of Scott Porter again.

Here is my update

Hooray I still have a hangover headache from two days ago!

Anyway Friday I met The Architect's parents, who are fabulous. Dadchitect is enormous, which was intimidating until I realized we were going to dinner and not Wrestlemania, and Archimom reminded me of my Aunt Kathy's sister, and therefore somewhat of my Aunt Kathy, both of whom I like.

Oh, and I was asleep by 11 that night because as I've mentioned before The Architect and I are geriatrics and so we were up way early and he went out running while I stayed in like a housewife darning socks reading my book. Hey The Architect, I have an idea for our next date. Let's eat dinner at 4:30 and then go home and watch The Blue Lagoon but fall asleep halfway through. I'm serious.

The rest of the weekend I played video games and watched movies like The Dark Crystal and Speed Racer because on top of being a geriatric, I am also a 10-year-old.

Speed Racer was pretty much a 2-hour sugar rush and shitty but in a good way where you just have to say "This is a racing movie" and you get over the fact that it's kinda bad. Susan Sarandon is in it, and you could see it in her eyes: "OMG I hate reciting these cliche lines but at least this isn't The Hunger, God that movie sucked." She was thinking of The Hunger the whole time.

The visual style of SR was also pretty awesome because I like bright colors and shiny things. I also enjoyed this visual style:

Too bad his character eats it in the opening sequence SPOILER ALERT!

He can lip my nicki... or something

Oh right in case you didn't know something weird happened and Jonathan Lipnicki from that movie I never bothered to see is now hot. In like a 15-year-old kinda way and preferably without the stupid hat, but he's hot nevertheless.

He's not like exceptionally hot but hot in a real-life kinda way and I like the fuzziness and stuff so you can all be as mean to me as you want but I'm not changing my mind.

Ok, I gotta go save the rest of the pictures to my desktop see ya!

Selling It

Regarding my boring not-fit-to-blog life, David told me to sell it, to SELL the paint drying, so that is what I am going to do. Please give me $50 to continue reading.

This is my stuffed Wailord, the baleen whale Pokemon, flying in from the west. He is a stuffed animal Kevin gave me because he knows good friends are the ones that give the most presents. Right now Wailord is guardian of my pirated DVD's.

Wailord is enormous, which reminds me of this woman at the gym today. She was at the bench next to me laying on it with her legs in the air doing crunches and she had this big ol' chick butt, right, and I went over to rack some dumbbells and get smaller ones because I am a pitiful weaking when she farted right there with her ass in the air!

It was so loud I thought Jesus was coming back but then I realized what happened and was able to save myself from falling to my knees. I didn't want to go back over to my bench so I just pretended to look at the weights for a while when I realized the weights I wanted were on the rack right next to her butt so I decided to do another exercise instead.

I dunno why when that happens everyone's supposed to keep quiet and pretend they didn't notice because it's so awkward that way and it's not OUR fault, so anyway any normal person would have the decency to run away crying but not her, she just kept on crunching, which I guess I'm supposed to respect but I just don't. At least she wasn't doing squats.

Right so moving on these next three pictures represent the TOTALLY AWESOME BORING STUFF I DID LAST NIGHT:

I read a book with my cat.

I ate this sandwich. (Foot-longs at Subway are just $5 for a limited time only!)

I organized my comic books and caught up because I was a few months behind in reading. I'd just like to say that if the Buffy series doesn't freaking quit it with the over-the-top ridiculous Dracula crap I'm doing to quit reading them, just kidding I'm too much of a fanboy to quit so I'll just go over there and do violence on the writers.

BANG like that!!!

Oh my God, I can't believe I read comic books... it just sort of occured to me...

Miss me?

A couple people have asked me why I barely ever blog anymore, so I am going to tell you about my night last night, and you'll understand why.

Last night I got home from work and played video games for an hour. Then I watched a shitty movie, put some photos on Flickr, and read Harry Potter for a while. I also ate a frozen mini-pizza and updated my calendar that I never use. Then I made a big to-do list and then did some of the things on the to-do list.

Now I will tell you about the last date I had.

The last date I had was Saturday and we went out and ate dinner after he got his hair cut. Then when my friend failed to call me back regarding her brother-in-law's klezmer concert, we wandered around and then went home where we watched Return of the King, the extended edition, but we didn't even make it halfway through before we got tired and went to bed at 11:30 without sex of any sort.

Now I will tell you about last week when I got sick.

Last week I got sick and sat around playing video games all day. Like... ALL DAY. I fell into that video game coma where you get obsessed in that bored way and when you turn the system off, you can't think of anything else to do because it's ALL boring and at least video games are boring and lazy, so you turn it back on even though you're really sick of playing video games and gaining weight all day. I call it Ennwii.

To conclude, I barely blog anymore because my life is like paint drying except for the slight change in color making the paint a little more interesting.

Celebrity Hard-On: May 2008

Last night I watched a shitty movie called Zerophilia in which this not-quite-cute-enough guy who's a douchebag has this genetic disorder where he turns into a girl when he has sex. And then he turns into a boy if he has sex again. It's a cute idea made shitty by being realized as a cheap romantic comedy that's neither romantic nor comical. My favorite part was sexy Kyle Schmid, this month's Celebrity Hard-On, whose illustrious acting credits include that Blood Ties show about vampires and an episode of Degrassi.

Here he is looking hot:

Here he is making me jealous of his hair:

Anyway, he's pretty much beautiful and has the most perfect body, so today I went to the gym so I can be just like him. It didn't really work, but I feel good about it anyway. Maybe by the end of the week I'll have an acting career too. I hope to be in an episode of Blood Ties as well, followed by a brief 4 or 5 episode run in Gossip Girl before moving on to Cinemax softcore porn. When I hit my thirties, I will be appearing in Lifetime Original Movies alongside Amy Jo Johnson, whom I will force to sign all my Power Rangers paraphernalia.

Ok that's all that's new with me lately except that also I kick ass at Mario Kart Wii.

Homophone

Reader E-Mail

I got a reader e-mail yesterday with a picture attached.

from: t**** ******
to: fivepointsfromgryffindor at gmail dot com
date: Apr 29, 2008 2:40 PM
subject: blog reader
and fan of course!!! i found this pic while surfing the internets for some porn i have yet to see and found this pic. is it you and is that how you secretly afford to live the high brow lifestyle in nyc? jus kidding of course, but use it to your advantage freely. good luck with ur job (search) in chicago, my fav u.s. big city!!!!

Here is a link to the NSFW pic.

Dear T,

No that is fucking not me, here is how you can tell:
1. My hair has never been that lanky and gross and rooty. I recolor it frequently and blow dry it every day!
2. I do NOT have skinny pale legs!
3. That kid has no ass and I have a gigantic ass.
Lastly. My features are more aristocratic. Also, I don't kiss because it distorts my face just like how girls weren't allowed to play the flute in the 18th century because it uglied them up.

Ok, I made up the last part. Anyway, thanks for thinking of me during your porn time, but next time you want to compare me to someone, check for no butt and pasty chicken legs and non-salon-quality sprouts. Are you in New York? We should probably have sex so you know better what to look for.

Maybe that was your goal in the first place. My friend wants to know if you're a foreigner.

Regards
2H

More Than Meets the Eye

I named my penis!

Yeah, welcome to Douchebag Blog, I am your host. Naming your penis is retarded, mostly because most people give their penises stupid names like Spike or name them after themselves. I even had a guy once invoke the name of his penis during sex, which has got to be the biggest turn-off of all time.

Anyway, I'm not like that, I gave my penis and awesome name and I will never say it at inappropriate times, nor will I think it makes me manlier. My penis' new name is Ogleboss.

If you keep up with my deluge of comments (because of immense popularity) you know that that's the name a 4-year-old gave to my mini-slinky. Matthew writes:

That's great that you let a 4 year old name your cock.

That's not how it went down. Basically, the kid named the slinky and then stretched it out as far as he cool and started saying "Look how long I can get! I am the longest in the world! Oh yeah! Oh yeah!"

It was totally disturbing, but it was then that my brain said "It is come. The name of your penis shall be Ogleboss the Transformer."

The Transformer because my penis is really tiny when it's not all big.

Anyway, now I am a douchebag too and must find further ways to exercise my douchebaggery.

Ogleboss likes the way you move tonight.

Children!

Updates: I'm out of Luna Bars, they never get better, it's Take Your Spawn to Work Day, and I'm flying to Chicago tomorrow for reasons I can't tell the Internet about. Here's a hint: it rhymes with schmob splinterview. I'm starting to get smervous about it.

YELLOW!

But back to more pressing matters: My work is crawling with children today. It's rather gross. Luckily, the only on in my work area is also the only one that I like. He is my coworker's kid (obvs) and he is 4 and "drew" me a "picture" of some sort of giant-headed leopard "pokemon". He also colored me a picture of Disney's Pluto about to attack and viciously devour a grinning ostrich. It says "Ostriches can't fly, but they can run very fast." I added "BUT NOT FAST ENOUGH!"

I don't know what it is about kids that I don't get, but I don't get them. This one likes to tell me about all the animals he saw at the San Diego Zoo, but whenever I try to interject something, he doesn't give a shit! I talk about chipmunks and skunks and my kitty cat and all I get in return is "Oh. And I saw elephants and tigers and it went RAHR!" He gives a shit when OTHER people talk but never when I talk. However, I also think I'm his favorite. Favorite enough that he tried to hand me a dirty napkin. I went "Eew!" and I think he was hurt. WTF?

Despite the affection, however, I got a pencil thrown at me when his mom and I were doing our daily crossword and ignoring him, but you can't say to a 4-year-old "You little fucker! Unless you can tell me a 4-letter word that means 'ess-molding' we don't need you!" Or can you?

(The answer is ogee. It's a good one to remember.)

Anyway, I'm a failure at children. The 4-year-old also knows more animals and speaks more languages than me and will probably grow up to be a lot hotter too so I'm also a failure at life the end.

OMG he stole my good pen!

Ah.... Wasn't this fun?

I have a friend in from out of town this weekend. He's coming today, right, and so starting Tuesday I did this SUPER INTENSE HOUSE CLEANING that was so hardcore it needs to be expressed in caps lock.

Houseguests usually require only B-Level Cleaning, but for some reason this week I got totally obsessed and upgraded it to A-Level. If you're wondering what the levels of cleaning are, they are as follows:

A-Level Cleaning -- SUPER INTENSE HOUSE CLEANING meaning going through everything and throwing away half your clothes and many of your belongings, totaling at least 8 garbage bags. I did 9 this time. Also everything gets scrubbed and vacuumed (even the TV) and the cat will probably hide for a couple days and refuse to sleep with you and instead wander around the house crying at 3 a.m. because it's so INTENSE! Requires many refrains of 'Happy Working Song' and possible furry animal assistants. Suitable for spring cleaning and OCD.

B-Level Cleaning -- Your general good clean. Wiping stuff down, dusting, cleaning up extra crap. Moderate garbage bag disposal. Suitable for houseguests, parental visits, and social services.

C-Level Cleaning -- General purpose tidying. Perhaps vacuuming all the cat hair off the couch. Suitable for post-third-date romantic partners who you know are beyond judging you and also for keeping general order in your life. Usu. performed at least weekly unless you're me.

D-Level Cleaning -- Faux cleaning. This involves shoving crap under the bed and kicking dust bunnies into corners and under the couch. Also "Dusting by Hand." Suitable for sudden hookups and Super Bowl Parties if you're gross.

E-Level Cleaning -- Turning off the lights.

Anyway, the cleaning has been so intense that I'm not even done, and when I get home today I'm doing another load of laundry or two and cleaning the bathroom, which I haven't even started. I like cleaning the bathroom, though, so it'll go quickly. Secretly pray with me that his plane is late.

The best part about ALC is all the neat stuff you find (and probably throw away.) I found a fish pen, my cat's favorite toy from like a year ago, a pretzel rod (in tact), about $10 in change, my copy of The Little Prince I thought was gone forever, the Beethoven Symphonies reduced for piano and cut into pieces for an art project I did 2 years ago, and a Game Cube that you can have for free if you want to come to my house and pick it up. There's treasure everywhere! Except the pretzel rod.

Anyway, all I'm saying is that my houseguest had better appreciate it even though he has no idea what the place looked like before. I should have let him sleep in my disgusting, grimy, furry, stank apartment for a night and then done it so he'd know the toil I have suffered for his comfort even though I know I already said it wasn't for him because he only requires BLC and I'm like SO HAPPY about it that it doesn't even matter what anybody else thinks because I feel like a grown up now.

This is the laundry room.

The only problem with all the cleaning is that my house feels really sterile and foreign now, much like Mars. It's got none of my trademark whatever. 'Oh how strange a place to be / 'til Colin comes for me / my heart is sighing....' Ok, it's me and this annoying song in my head for the next three weeks, get ready to want to punch me.

Whippin' It Out and About

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Flaming

Anyone wanna be victimized?? Get your internalized homophobia here, folks! Apparently I've got some problems.

So that MRSA article photo from yesterday was featured on Towleroad today and most people thought it was pretty cool, but a couple people took issue with the caption, which ended "I hate to think this is all he knows about my lifestyle." 'John in Manhattan' writes:

"lifestyle"? TooHotty is clueless.

Yes, of course. How silly of me to choose my own word.

Anyway John in Manhattan learned on the GLAAD website that the phrase "gay lifestyle" is offensive, and despite my explanation that I didn't say "gay lifestyle", but rather "my lifestyle" to mean "the way I live my life", he seems to think I suffer from internalized homophobia.

I love being flamed on the internet, but this one was tame. There was a better one a few months back when an opera website linked to a passing and entirely facetious statement I made about a reviewer being pretentious, and they all got mad at me, again labeling me as this "clueless" typical young shallow gay kid. I get that a lot, which is so weird because my blog is SO TOTALLY FULL OF SUBSTANCE AND INSIGHT!

Anyway, you can read the comment thread if you want. You'll notice my new boyfriend Crispy stood up for me a couple times. That's pretty cool.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to take a shower and tidy my apartment because later I'm going out to beat up some queers.

Everything is Illuminated

Check out what I got in the mail yesterday along with a generous check.

Usually SCOTT DADs are just checks with a piece of paper that says "SCOTT DAD" but this one had a news clipping in it.

It's weird because since I came out 11 years ago, my dad hasn't once mentioned my sexuality or said the word "gay." It kinda bothers me that this might be the only thing he understands about my lifestyle. Anyway I'm going to call him and tell him I have an itchy rash.

In other news I've been really tired lately and take 2-hour naps every day. Don't be jealous. It actually sucks because I have to clean my apartment for The Architect to come tomorrow but I didn't. I bought him his favorite things to drink, though, so I'm hoping he'll be SO HAPPY with his XXX Vitamin Water that he turns a blind eye to my slovenly ways and also forgives me for sleeping through our date.

Now I'm eating mango sorbet and watching Everything is Illuminated because I don't clean after 9:00 and I'm 20 minutes into it. It's trying way too hard to be quirky. Elijah Wood's character is especially annoying but what else is new?

Ok, now I'm 33 minutes into it and it's better.

April Drools Day

OMG I LOVE YOUR HAIR TODAY APRIL FOOLS I ACTUALLY HATE IT!

April Fool's Day is probably the stupidest thing ever invented. Nonetheless, Sister Hotty is convinced that when she goes to buy the Alvin and the Chipmunks DVD, they're gonna say "April Fools, it's not really being released today!" Personally, I think that's just fine and I kinda hope it really happens so maybe she'll get something that doesn't suck so hard, but chances are slim. Incidentally, she says thanks for the birthday greetings to the ONE of you that got them in on time.

Here's another April Fool's joke. I am pretty.

APRIL FOOLS I AM ACTUALLY UGLY AND FULL OF HOLES!

Oh I forgot that today is my sister's birthday so say something nice to her here and I'll pass the message along but I bet you won't.

Tweakend

I guess I missed the Black Party

Let's see, what did I do this weekend oh that's right NOTHING!

Friday night I was all primed for a cozy night in reading and cleaning because all of my friends had other plans, but then I got dead tired and was sleeping by 9 because I am a geriatric.

I also saw Horton Hears a Who, which is about an elephant and his speck. It's pretty good. There's also a little fuzzy yellow thing named Katie, who has some problems.

Anyway then I had dinner with The Architect on Saturday and we went to a place I had been before except this time we ordered a bottle of wine that was probably the best bottle of wine ever made. Ok backstory: First of all, we had two waiters: Hot Waiter and Less Hot Waiter. Hot Waiter brought us a bottle of wine but when we smelled it, it was like nail polish remover, and when we tasted it, it was like nail polish remover, and Hot Waiter agreed. Enter Less Hot Waiter who decided to tell us there was nothing wrong with it like he knew anything. He became my enemy and officially "Less Hot" and we got a new bottle anyway, which ended up being this delicious perfect spicy cherry wine.

I don't have pics from the weekend yet, so here's something else. That's my building on the left.

Hot Waiter was mostly hot because he had good hair that I wanted. The best part about the wine is that when we got the check, we weren't charged for it. Anyway, at about 10 I found out that The Architect is a geriatric too because we both got really tired and went home to bed so we could wake up in time for the WORST HANGOVER HEADACHES EVER!

Then we played with his brand new dual shower head, which was really WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW! I'm only telling you about that because The Architect's mom reads my blog now because apparently he couldn't think of any other way to show her a picture of me. Yeah, now you know he is an Advanced Genius Level Architect. AGLA. Agla Khan.

Then we had brunch with shitty coffee and went on a walk and I came home to "put up my shelves" which is code for "watch TV for 5 hours." THE END

Rubber Boobs

i bought you a house
i bought you a car
but the thing that i bought that
you like most by far
are your rubber boobs
and i hate them

your boobs were just B's
but they knew how to please
all bouncy and smooshy and pert
but god knows why
you wanted to try
to get boobs that were rigid and hurt

you told me they'd help you
recapture your youth
but they've only helped me
to chip a tooth

they are ugly and
they are yucky
so i want to say
"No fucky fucky!"

when your hooters were cuter i wanted you pooter
but now those huge knockers are only cock blockers

they're bags of jelly
that perch on your belly
and now that you have them
i'd rather watch telly
than play around with your
firm
immobile
eternally perky
most unsavory
completely inanimate
gross
rubber
boobs