The Donald at The Parade

Fun story.

I was working security at the Pride Parade today. I was stationed on the same street as Trump Tower. Basically, the street was closed so the parade participants who had cars could get lined up for their day-long trek down 5th Ave.

At one point one of the TT security personnel came over to the police officer and informed her that Mr. Trump was coming around the corner and needed access to his parking garage. Naturally, no one was allowed to get access to that street other than city workers (police, firemen, paramedics, etc.) and permit holders. Also naturally, such rules do not usually apply to the rich and/or famous (that is not meant to be a judgment against the people who let him in, just a statement of fact).

So Mr. Trump's limo was waved onto the street where it was forced to wait in the line of the floats and marchers until it could execute a rather intricate four or five-point turn into the building and safely ensconce The Donald away from the plebs.

Anyhoo, I present Mr. Trump's limo. For your reference he is lining up behind the Butch/Femme Society.

I'm Thor

So I started going to a personal trainer. Partially, because going to the Bingham Cup made me really, really miss playing rugby, and I'm bound and determined to play again. But mostly, I can't get over the thought that the only reason it didn't go very far with the last guy is that I'm the kind of guy who looks good when you're drunk, but that you regret when you're sober.

And yes, yes, I know that's a self-defeating attitude, low self-esteem, blah, blah, fucking blah. Whatever. That's how I think.

So anyway, I'm seeing a trainer now. He's in his (I'd guess) early 20s, and he's a) training to be a Navy SEAL, b) a mixed-martial artist, c) a wrestler, and d) participating in Octogon Ultimate Fighting competitions.

The dude is a maniac.

While I would no doubt argue the point while I'm actually working out with him, he is exactly what I need.

The workouts are heavy on interval cardio training, core strenghtening, and stretching. By the end of the workout, I'm so sweaty you could ring me out like the wash.

While I certainly anticipate the results, I'm a little sore right now. No, actually, I'm a lot sore right now. Like everything south of my sternum is sore. Well, most everything. You get the picture.

Point being, this is a good thing. I just have to keep saying that. This is a good thing.

Anyway, between this ridiculously intense working out and the diet I've put myself on (basically, in order to pay for my training sessions, I've started making all my meals. Saving tons of money and eating right for once), things are already feeling better.

We'll see how it goes.

Hopefully, I'll be at least moderately attractive to people by the time I hit P'town at the end of the summer.

By the way, the title of this post is the set up for the punchline of an old joke. If anyone can tell me the punchline, I'll buy you a drink the next time I see you.

Bingham Cup 2008

Well, it's over for another two years. Sydney won the Cup; a little disappointing.

Gotham A came in third. The B side didn't make it to the finals, but that's how it goes.

Anyway, only thing left is dinner, the party, waking up with a wicked hangover, checking out, and heading home.

The time really flew by.

My favorite things from this trip. Having a tour guide who said stadia, instead of stadiums. The campus is planted with tons of lavender; after every rain, it smells amazing. Getting a lot of good photos. Reconnecting with some of the guys I haven't seen in a while. Listening to lots of good music. Cider. Seeing some great rugby.

Things that weren't so great. The food (oh, dear God, the food). Feeling like I did in High School when I was ignored by the more popular guys on the team (Seriously, does this feeling ever go away? Why do I care if these guys like me or not, they're not part of my real life.). The weather (oh, dear God, the weather). Trying to go to bed when it's still light outside. My horrible, horrible mattress (Literally the worst mattress I've ever slept on).

Anyway, it was fun overall. That's the important part.

Captain's Log, Supplemental

Today was cold and rainy (and overcast, partly cloudy, and sunny . . . seriously the weather over here is freaky). After only a few games, I was pretty much rugbied out.

I came back to the dorm and worked on the articles I'm writing. Got three of them done. Luckily, those were the long ones, the rest should be faster.

Of course, tomorrow is the last day of the tournament, so it will be crazy. Lots of rugby, lots of partying, lots of everything. I can't wait.

Off to bed.

Bingham

Ever so quickly.

Dublin is great. There is cider in every bar and restaurant. I've been semi-drunk since I arrived.

The games are going well. Both sides have won and lost a match. More games today (in fact the next one starts in 10 min. so I'm going to be late).

I've taken a bunch of photos which I've put in Flickr. I'll post some later.

There are so many hot guys.

The sun doesn't fully set until well after 11:30 PM or so. Really messes with your sense of time.

I didn't put on sunscreen yesterday because it was overcast and from time to time rainy. Plus, who could get a sunburn in Ireland? Me, as it turns out. I'm not quite lobster red, but I've got what one of the secretaries at my company calls "an Irish tan."

Anyway, having a great time, though I'm tired as hell. It's sad when you kind of look forward to a vacation ending so you can get some sleep.

Woo! O'Hoo!

Tomorrow I leave for the Bingham Cup. Not freaking out about the flight yet, but soon, my pretties, soon.

Anyway, plan to see some theatre while I'm there and generally be a tourist.

Taking my camera, so hopefully I'll get some good shots of rugger with thighs like tree trunks.

Funny story

Coming in to work today, I overheard three security guards talking.

One of them said to the other two, "You know how you have the same first name? And the same last initial? Well, I was thinking."

One of the others, a hot Italian-looking guy said, "Yeah?"

The first guy said, "You should have sex."

They all started laughing, as did one of the building maintenance guys who was walking by. He turned back to them and said, "Yeah, but who would be the pitcher and who would be the catcher?"

The cute guy just laughed and said, "I guess we'll just take turns."

Fun way to start the day.

Best. Thing. Ever.

Grr . . . arrgh!

Crappy mood. But I'm off to see the True Colors Tour tonight, so yipee! Cyndi Lauper, B-52s, Joan Jett, Indigo Girls, Wanda Sykes, Kate Clinton, just to name a few.

Can't wait!

Probably still be in a crappy mood tomorrow, but at least tonight will be nice.

Just keeps getting better

So it turns out the shoe did not, in fact, drop as my last post indicated. I was simply being paranoid that the guy hadn't called me. But call me he did and off I went to Brooklyn to attend a party for him.

At the end of the party, about 2 hours ago, I think I was given a rather ambiguous variation of the "let's be friends" speech.

One dropped shoe, two hours, and three trains later, I'm home.

I'm going the fuck to bed.

Alone again (Naturally).

And for once, that suits me just fine.