What the fuck happened last night? I couldn't have had more than five or six drinks, but I was wrecked. All I can think is that the drinks were more potent than they seemed.

Who knows?

Either way, here is the wrap up. I spent money that I couldn't afford to spend. I said some wildly inappropriate things, which are not to be repeated on anybody's blogs. I spoke with MAK's mom. I dared one of the blogger boys to whip it out; he sort of complied. I'm pretty sure we forgot to call Zenchick, but I'm not absolutely certain. I finally met Jess and Marc. I fell asleep in the taxi. I didn't get sick. I didn't get a good night's sleep. I feel like crap today.

And oddly enough, I had a dream last night that featured two of the blogger boys. And it wasn't one of those dreams, though it was rather odd. And neither of the blogger boys were zombies, so it wasn't too bad.

Assuming everything goes as planned, in a couple of weeks, three of my favorite bloggers will be in New York.  I'm so incredibly excited!

But tonight, I'm drinking with the blogger boys (which, technically, now includes blogger girls).  I hope I make it to work tomorrow.

I keep forgetting to mention that twice now while I've been on my long-ass walks, I've seen Wayne (no, not this Wayne), the gay guy who was made over on Queer Eye a couple of weeks ago.

Both times he was walking up 8th Ave., seeming to relish and be amused by all the looks and whispers he inspired as he walked by.  He's still looking fairly stylish and he's better looking in person than he was on tv.

And speaking of my long-ass walks, if any of you ever find yourself in Chelsea around 9 p.m. or so and want to join me, you're welcome to.  8th Ave. to Hudson to Houston to 6th Ave. to 23rd St. to 8th Ave.  It's actually a really nice walk, especially when I'm down on 6th around Bleeker.  Helloooooo, NYU boys.

I'm "Back"

As many of you eventually figured out, yesterday's post was not actually written by Hot Toddy.  It was, in fact, an elaborate practical joke played on a blogger that we all love and admire (and, of course, secretly lust after).

He was, as we had hoped, mortified and amused.

Personally, the thing that got me laughing the hardest was the picture of Hot Toddy with the cast of 'The Jeffersons'.  Though why, oh why, did Chrisafer have to cover up poor Florence's face.  Didn't she suffer enough having to serve the nouveau riche Jeffersons?  (Or should that be nouveaux riches Jeffersons?)  He should have covered Jenny Willis's face instead.  Then Toddy and Lionel could have been a couple (under the watchful eye, no doubt, of obviously gay though trying to pass for straight Mr. Bentley).  Ah, well, if ifs and buts were candy and nuts . . .

Anyway, nothing much to report in my life, hence the reason I so enjoyed writing about Toddy's.

Took a long-ass walk on Monday night.  Got stood up for coffee.  Sulked.

Tuesday I kept up with my week of getting to work obscenely early.  Obsessively checked my Gmail and the sites of my co-conspirators.  Got no work done.  Walked home in the pouring rain.  Got soaked despite my (sucky) umbrella.  After the rain stopped, I went shopping so I could make hummus and another batch of the chicken dish (this time I'm going to try mozzarella and tomato instead of the herbed goat cheese).  By the time I was done shopping, the rain had started again, with a vengence.  Got absolutely soaked walking home because I didn't bring my (sucky) umbrella.

Blew off a rugby team meeting last night.  Decided that life was too short for me to deal with what I knew would be a long annoying meeting.

Today, I got up late but still managed to make my hummus and get to work early.  Go me!!

Here is the hummus recipe I used.  It's something I got from Alton Brown's Good Eats.

1 can chickpeas
3 cloves garlic (my garlic had gone bad so I used garlic powder)
3 Tbs. smooth peanut butter
Juice of one lemon
1 handful fresh parsley
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
Dash of salt
Pinch of pepper

Put all of the above in a food processor or blender and process or blend the hell out of it.

It's okay, not great.  The thing that turns me off about it is using the peanut butter instead of tahini.  It's a little too sweet.  And I bought a no-sugar-added peanut butter.  Plus, the tahini (sesame paste) has a smoky flavor that I really like.

Next time, I'm going to use tahini and probably add a little hot pepper.

My Ass Is Going To Be Everywhere

Hot Toddy here, guestblogging while Crash is off downloading porn or cooking or whatever it is he does.  Since everyone is asking me to guest blog today, I guess I'll need to keep this short.  But I wanted to make the announcement here since everyone reads this blog.

I'm going to be famous!

You remember my show Naked! ?  Of course you do.  It turns out that a famous Hollywood producer saw the show.  How a famous Hollywood producer ended up in Portland, I don't know.  Maybe he was stalking me.

After the show he came over to talk to me.

HIM: Your ass is amazing.

ME: I know . . . I mean, thank you.

HIM: It's like Brad Pitt's and Matt Damon's and Colin Farrell's . . . it's . . . well, it's Every Ass.

ME:  Um . . . what?

HIM: On film, I mean.  Your ass could pass for anyone's.  You have to come to Hollywood with me and be an ass-double.  I'm going to make your ass famous.  Believe me, after a year working with me, your ass will be everywhere.  It will be the buzz.  Your ass will be on everyone's lips.

ME:  Okay, I'm leaving now.

Sure, it sounded too good to be true.  Turns out it wasn't.  I'll be filming my first movie this fall.  It's a demanding schedule because I'll be the ass-double for not one, but TWO famous Hollywood stars.  I can't tell you their names, but they rhyme with Nen Naffleck and Natt Namon.  So remember, when you see their next movie and you're salivating over their naked buttocks, you'll actually be salivating over mine.  Twice!!

This turn of events led to a problem.  What to do with Yum Yum Brotherhood.  Well, I thought and I thought.  And I thought some more.  Then my head hurt so I took a nap.  Then I thought a little more and it didn't hurt this time.  Then it hit me.

Every star needs groomers.

So I got the producer to hire the Yum Yums to be my official ass groomers.  We haven't decided who's going to do make up and who's going to do hair and who's going to be the official masseur; I guess I'll let them decide.  The important thing is they will all be there, sharing my six-bedroom Malibu beach home (thanks to the studio).  Life will be great.

I have one other little bit of news . . . Fox approached me to see about doing a reality series about my ass's first movie.  I haven't decided yet.  I don't want America to get tired of my ass too soon.  I mean, who wants to be the next J.Lo?

Posted by Guest Blogger Hot Toddy on July 27, 2004

In an effort to help me save money, someone conveniently dropped a $20 bill on 23rd Street and 9th Avenue Saturday.  I think more people need to do that (assuming, of course, that I'm always to be the person to find the money).

To the anonymous person who dropped the $20, thank you.

In an effort to thwart the universe's good intentions, I squandered what little money remains in my account on a ticket to De-Lovely (which I thoroughly enjoyed) and dinner at the Coffee Shop on Union Square Sunday night.  Hah, take that, universe!  Anyway, the dinner and movie were just what the doctor (if not my wallet) ordered.  I went with English David . . . good company for a movie like this.

Saturday was all about running around the city.  Farmer's market, Starbucks, Chelsea Market, Garden of Eden (grocery store), back to the Farmer's market.  East side, west side, all around the town.  But then, if I hadn't been walking all over the place, someone less deserving would have found the twenty.

That night, I hung out with a friend who just broke up with his boyfriend.  Not much that I can do about that other than be there for him to talk to.  So that's what I did.  I may not be good at much, but I am a decent, if somewhat fidgety, listener.  Later we took a long walk.  Nice.

I love taking walks and am glad to be doing it again.  I find that I sleep much better if I take a long walk before bed.  I wish there were more time to do things like that.

In an effort to save money, I've started cooking again instead of going out all the time.  I love to cook, but I also love the convenience of just running to the deli for a sandwich when I come home from work.  So for this to work, the recipes have to be simple and fast.

Today I had to get to the office very early (about two hours earlier than I normally drag my ass into work).  Since I was paranoid about oversleeping (and had been having bad dreams so I couldn't really sleep anyway) I woke up much earlier than normal.  Finding myself with some free time, I cooked lunch/dinner for the week.  Here it is, a recipe from the Barefoot Countessa, modified by Crash.

4  split Chicken Breasts, bone-in with skin
1  7 oz. stick of dill goat cheese
4 Basil leaves
Olive Oil
Salt
Pepper

Peel back the skin from the chicken breasts, insert two fairly thick pieces of goat cheese and a basil leaf under the skin.  Drizzle with olive oil.  Sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Bake on a baking sheet for 35-40 min. at 375°.

I haven't tasted the chicken yet (lunch is still an hour away), but it smelled amazing.

Tonight when I get home, I'm planning to make hummus.  If I do, I'll post the recipe tomorrow.

The House voted on H.R. 3313 which says that the Federal Courts (including the Supreme Court) have no jurisdiction over cases against the Defense of Marriage Act.  Here are the Democrats who voted, ultimately, against gay marriage.

Alexander
Berry
Boucher
Boyd
Carson (OK)
Chandler
Costello
Cramer
Davis (TN)
Edwards
Gordon
Herseth
Holden
John
Lucas (KY)
Marshall
Matheson
McIntyre
Peterson (MN)
Rahall
Ross
Sandlin
Skelton
Stenholm
Tanner
Taylor (MS)
Turner (TX)

Okay, now it is highly unlikely that anyone who reads my blog lives in one of these districts, but if you do, please write your Rep. and give him or her a piece of your mind.

Many of these folks have their e-mail set up in such a way that only constituents can e-mail them, but for those who don't, I'd suggest dropping them a line to let them know how you feel.  Sure, they probably won't do anything about it, but at least an intern somewhere will know that you're disappointed.

Oh, and just because it's the right thing to do, take a minute to see how your representative voted.  Then click here to send an e-mail telling them what you think about their vote.

George W. Bush . . . Worse Than Zombies?

Last night I had the strangest dream . . . well, okay, it wasn't last night, it was Monday night.  And it wasn't the strangest dream.  But it was weird.

All I remember is this: I was on Air Force One, sitting next to the Mono Loco, when I made a joke about his inability to pronounce the word 'nuclear' (for those of you not in the know, he pronounces it 'newkewler'.  Ah, that Yale edumacation.).  Then he slapped me.  Right in the face.

Sure, it wasn't as horrible as being chased by flesh-eating zombies, but it was horrifying in its own special way.

Tempus fugit, even when you're not having fun

So I meant to write about this weekend on Monday, now it's Wednesday.  Oops.

I suppose I should first say that I attended Frank's birthday party last Thursday at the 10th Avenue Lounge (I believe the sign said 'Xth Ave. Lounge').  Fun time.  MAK and PatCH were there, among others.  Lots of booze.  Mild groping.  You know, the usual.

Saturday morning I got up at 5:30 a.m. to catch my 7 a.m. train to Baltimore.  I was greeted at the station by Ms. Uvula, David and Rob.  The day was spent hitting yard sales, visiting all the booths at ArtScene (I think that's what it's called), and ignoring David's constant zombie talk.  I bought a lovely print of a collage at ArtScene.  Now I just need to get it framed.  I also bought 8 or so books at the various yard sales.  Damn my compulsive book-buying.  Ah, well.

Speaking of books, I read Alex Sanchez' new book 'So Hard to Say'.  Interesting.  First time I've read a glbt book aimed at a Jr. High crowd.  His writing is getting much better since his first novel.

After all the walking around, we were joined by Zenchick for dinner.  And what a dinner it was.  Rob is an amazing cook.  After dinner, we were joined by Jwer, Cara and her friends Jane and James (I think . . . I'm terrible with names), and Michael and John (I think . . . see previous comment).  Anyway, the company was terrific.  Gay men, straight men, women and one particularly cute Boston Terrier.  Add in a bunch of Mojitos and a fabulous flourless chocolate cake, and you know the party is going to be good.  And it really, really was.

In fact, Saturday pretty much made up for all of the bullshit I've been dealing with for the last few months.

Sunday was pretty laid back and involved significantly less walking.  Rob, David and I had a leisurely breakfast of homemade (from scratch) pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon.  When I win the lotto, I'm hiring Rob to be my live in chef.  After breakfast we watched a little tv and did crossword puzzles.  Fun stuff.  We caught a movie later in the day.  Napoleon Dynamite.  Odd little film.  But worth seeing.  Especially at Baltimore prices ($6).  Not long after that, it was time to head home.

It was a fantastic weekend and not only because I absolutely love spending time with David and Rob.  It was great hanging out with Zenchick, especially getting to see her on her own turf.  I also enjoyed meeting Jwer and Cara.  Jwer told me lots of stories about David's college years.  Mwa ha ha ha ha.  And of course, it's always great getting to be Uncle Crash for Goblin, though I wish she wouldn't chew on my beard quite so much.  At least she isn't a great dane.

It's important to have friends who recharge your batteries and renew your creativity.  Between talking theater and cooking with Rob, and talking about writing and life with David, I came back feeling so much better than I had in ages.  Then came the meat grinder . . . but that's New York for you.  The point is, I feel better now than I have in ages, even if I'm freaked out by some of the decisions I need to make.

I also started writing again.  A play based on something that Rob and I talked about and a musical that I've been meaning to write for a while and kept putting off.  Now it seems I need to have a musical in order to apply for one of the programs I'm contemplating.  Seems like a pretty good reason to write one.

It's nice to have a sense of purpose again.  I hope it doesn't morph into a feeling of being completely overwhelmed.  We'll see.

It's amazing how I can have a fantastic weekend (which I will post about when I get home), full of friends and conversation, which leaves me renewed and full of purpose, only to come to back to New York and after a few hours feel like I've been through a meat grinder.
 
Some conclusions I came to this weekend and today:
 
1) I have to change my job.  Either quit or come up with some way to make it less soul-crushing.
 
2) It's time to go back to school.  Whether it is for my Ph.D or, as was suggested to me this weekend, the MFA program at NYU, I'm ready.
 
3)  For years I've toyed with the idea of starting a playwriting competition for gay and lesbian youth.  It's time to make that a reality, too.
 
4)  I'm tired of being in debt.
 
5)  I need to make my apartment feel like a home rather than a dorm.
 
If only I knew how to do any of this.

Since I'm not in much of a mood to write, here are the lyrics to one of my favorite songs, 'Hard Times Come Again No More', written by Stephen Foster in 1850.  I couldn't track down a music file, so you'll just have to admire the poetry of the lyrics.  When the music is added, and played well, it is a beautifully haunting song.
 
HARD TIMES COME AGAIN NO MORE
by Stephen Foster
 
Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears
Oh, hard times come again no more
 
Chorus:
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary
Hard times, hard times, come again no more
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door
Oh, hard times come again no more
 
While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay
There are frail forms fainting at the door
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say
Oh, hard times come again no more.
 
Chorus
 
There's a pale drooping maiden who toils her life away
With a worn heart whose better days are o'er
Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day
Oh, hard times come again no more
 
Chorus
 
'Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave
'Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore
'Tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave
Oh, hard times come again no more.
 
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary
Hard times, hard times, come again no more
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door
Oh, hard times come again no more
 
Oh, hard times come again no more

La Fée Verte

Last night, during a meeting, I noticed the green fairy perched on a shelf. She wasn't the shy, retiring kind, who easily blended into the sea of brown that surrounded her. No, she sat there, front and center, brazenly daring me to stare at her.

I knew I had to meet her.

After we adjourned and the others left, I mentioned to our host that I had seen her sitting across the room from me. I explained my long-time fascination with her, this muse who had known Verlaine, Rimbaud, Baudelaire, Wilde and so many others whom I admire.

I hinted that we had never, in fact, met.

Good friend that he is, he arranged an introduction.

The glass. The sugar. The preparation, a tea ceremony of sorts, whets the appetite. The water turns her vibrant green to pearlescent white. The taste. Herbal, like hay and spices. Not sweet. Not bitter. Comfortable. The taste and smell linger. Lulling.

I understand why she exerted such influence.

After the first glass, you see things as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not. Finally, you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world.
- Oscar Wilde

In case I didn't make my point on Friday, call or e-mail your Senators today and let them know you are against the FMA. Whether you see this as a violation of gay rights, civil rights, states' rights, whatever. Just do it.

Don Wildmon and the friendly folks at the American Family Association have declared Monday, July 12, to be Phone Your Senator Day. They're encouraging all of "God's People" to call their senators to let them know they are opposed to gay marriage.

On Monday, please go to this site. Find the contact info for your senators and let them know how you feel about gay marriage. Sure, they will be getting more calls and e-mails from the bigots and homophobes, but every single e-mail and call they get from one of us will help counter a little bit of the hate.

Please pass this info around.

One of the other little ironic things in the e-mail from Don "hate the sin, not the sinner . . . ah, what the hell, hate the sinner, too" Wildmon is that he's declared Sunday to be Protect Marriage Sunday. He's encouraging pastors to denounce gay marriage from the pulpit and (here's the ironic part) to "discuss the threat of gay marriage" in Sunday School. Here is a man who was up in arms that schools were going to talk about homosexuality in health and sex ed classes because, as he said at the time, children shouldn't be exposed to homosexuality. Apparently what he meant was that children shouldn't be exposed to anything pro-homosexuality or homosexuality-neutral. But if you want to bash the gays, heck, let's have the kids do it in Sunday school.

Cretin.

Please don't forget to contact your senator on Monday. I'm sure Hillary is getting tired of my e-mails, but that's what she's there for.

I've been a bad blogger lately. I'd love to say that it's because I've been busy living my fun-filled fabulous life, but the truth is, I've been tired and down and not wanting to do anything.

But I've been forcing myself to do things (pro-active depression Flip called it), so I can at least blog about all the stuff I've been zombie-walking through.

I've been hanging out with Mike a lot. After not having seen him more than once every couple of months, I'm seeing him a few times a week. It's been nice. But it's going to suck when David gets back and we stop spending time together again. See how I always manage to find the cloud lurking inside the silver lining.

I won tickets to My Big Gay Italian Wedding, with special guest star James from Boy Meets Boy. Suffice it to say that you know you're in trouble when the pretty boy from TV is the best "actor" in the show. The sad thing is, it wasn't a horrible show. Or at least, it wouldn't have been with a little work. The script needed some editing. And the fellow who wrote it needed some coaching on how to write group scenes. He had a good ear for dialogue, but he couldn't handle having more than two or three characters interacting at any given time. So while those three actors were speaking, the rest of the cast either silently ad-libbed (usually very over-the-top focus-stealing stuff) or just stood there with their thumbs up their asses, looking blank. All of that could have been taken care of with a good director, someone who could even out the business. And a couple of the actors were so completely over the top that they weren't even funny.

Ah well. I suppose I shouldn't bitch about it too much. After all, this guy's play is being produced. None of mine are.

Sigh.

And we're moving on.

Saturday I watched the USA v. France rugby match in beautiful East Hartford, CT. Very hot. Very sunny. Good time. I remembered to wear sunscreen so I didn't wind up looking like some sort of lobster boy. The only semi-annoying part about the game was the drunk idiot behind us who kept yelling 'fuck you, France' and 'your queen's a whore'. I'm assuming he went to public school. Probably in New Jersey.

The best part about the game was the eye candy. Loads and loads of hot college ruggers in various states of undress. One or two looked like they'd stepped from the pages of the Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue. Bastards.

Didn't do much Sunday or Monday. Watched the fireworks from my roof. Went to Mike's and watched movies. That's it. Kind of boring.

Watched Spider-Man on Tuesday. I thought it was great. Well worth the price of admission (which is how I judge movies these days). Great special effects. Good villain. Gorgeous James Franco. And Bruce Campbell (who can do no wrong in my book . . . well, his role on Xena notwithstanding) has a very funny cameo.

Now all I have to do is see Fahrenheit 9/11 and De-Lovely and I'm pretty much caught up on movies. Actually, I'll probably just rent De-Lovely.

Isn't this odd? I always figured Peter Jennings be the first one to go postal.

Fine. Fuck it. Whatever.

And that, gentle readers, has been my entire day.

Just wrote my rent check. Amusingly, the amount of money in my account is somewhat less than the amount of the check.

Well, thank God it's only a week and a half until pay day. Of course, I have bills to pay before then. And I have to take a trip down to mom's house. And buy her a birthday present. And buy food.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Maybe it's time to start selling my possessions on eBay. Or Stuff's possessions. Yeah, that sounds better. Teach him to give me a key to his apartment.

But I guess that would be bad karma.

Oh, well.

Anyone want to buy some porn?

Quote of the Day
Some people think the use of profanity demonstrates limited intelligence, but they can go fuck themselves.
-- Famous Author Rob Byrnes

Sorry I've been quiet recently. A little tired + a little depressed = not blogging.

Funny thing is I've been really busy. Mostly doing fun stuff, or rather, stuff that would be really fun if I were in a better mood.

I went to WYSIWYG for their "That Is So Gay" event. Loads of fun that has been talked about on so many other people's sites.

Went to another charity event in a building right off Columbus Circle. Good food, good music, rich people, having to schmooze, having to have my picture taken, blah, blah, blah.

Got my cable and high-speed internet. Haven't slept since.

English David and I went to a Pride kick off event at City Hall and had celebrity sightings galore. Larry Kramer, Harvey Fierstein, John Tartaglia, Christopher Sieber, Hal Sparks, Laura Linney, Andre de Shields, Mayors Gavin Newsom (hottie) and Jason West, from Frisco and New Paltz, respectively, Joyce Randolph from 'The Honeymooners', Alan Cumming, Catherine Pino and David Mensah from Hetrick-Martin. Well, tons of folks. Very, very cool.

On a related note, I've decided that Laura Linney is my new pretend girlfriend.

After that event, I went to a party for this year's James Beard Award winners where I got to sample their wares. Food, that is. And an open bar. I chatted with Aaron Sanchez, the owner of Zarela and an absolute hottie. I just recently purchased his cookbook and talked with him about some of the recipes. I think that I was one of the few people who talked to him about anything other than getting some free food; he kind of lit up when I told him how much I'd enjoyed his book.

Hung out with Mike Saturday and watched 28 Days Later, which did not inspire any zombie dreams (they weren't really zombies), and a movie called Ma Vrai Vie a Rouen, which was really, really good. It was about a teenager who received a video camera and started recording his life. It is so well done that I kept forgetting that this was a film and not just some kid's video diary. It was also fascinating how the director explored the kid's burgeoning homosexuality. (The writer/directors were the guys who did Adventures of Felix which also dealt with finding one's gay identity).

Now I have to remember to return both of those movies. They're a couple of days late.

Sunday, I was supposed to march, but just couldn't be bothered. Depression rearing its ugly head again. Somehow the idea of being surrounded by half-naked pretty boys didn't sound appealing.

Instead I went to the street fair on Washington to man the Out of Bounds booth. Much better. I could put on my "recruiter" personality and turn off my head for a few hours. Then a bunch of guys from my team showed up and proceeded to really piss me off, so I left.

After that, English David and I went to Park. He wanted to look at the go-go boys, I didn't want to sit in my apartment and sulk. I suppose it was okay. Crappy bartenders (or rather, too few bartenders considering how many guys were there after the Pier Dance), lots and lots of attitude, a Michael Musto sighting (he was wearing this horrible green track suit kind of thing . . . something you'd expect to see on a 70 year old widow in Florida who's out for a day of shopping at the outlets, but whatever, as long as he was happy).

I'll give English David this, the go-go boy was hot. Big floppy '70s hair and big floppy . . . well, you know.

Monday I went to FA Rob Byrnes' book signing/launch party. It was sadly Horshack-less, but a good time was had by all. PatCH, Deidre, Frank, Glenn, Michael V, and several other bloggers were there. Good time. Especially drunk dialing Zenchick and singing a Ramones song. English David and I went to Thalia for dinner after the party (it's restaurant week so several of the 'I can't afford to eat there' places have $30 prix fixe menus). It was amazing. I had mushroom fricasse (sp?) on polenta, veggie pasta (it was called something fancy, but I've forgotten), and a chocolate sampler with three of their best desserts. Not to mention an amazing wine that David chose (I have no knowledge of wines). Then, as an act of contrition, I walked home. I probably only walked off a bite of chocolate, but what the hell.

Last night I went to Central Park with Frank to listen to a brass ensemble. Ran into Paul, one of my teammates, and his roommate. The ensemble was good, not great, but between the vibe of the crowd, the company and the weather, I still had a pretty good time. Of course, it may have been because of the shirtless skater boys.

Let's see . . . what else? I've watched several rugby matches the past few days. England v. New Zealand. Wales v. South Africa. England v. Australia. Good stuff. Makes me really want to get back to playing.

Tonight I'm off to a party thrown by another charity. It's called Beer, Blues and BBQ. Should be okay.

Um . . . oh, I also just read David Sedaris' new book. It was great. Laugh out loud funny. Touching. Pretty much what I've come to expect. A couple of the stories hit a little too close to home, but I've come to expect that, too. That's what makes him a good writer and storyteller.

I guess that's it for now. I'm supposed to go see 'My Big Gay Italian Wedding' on Friday. That will contrast nicely with the USA v. France rugby game I'm going to see on Saturday. It's somewhere in CT. Should be lots and lots of eyecandy; I'm taking my camera this time.

Be There And/Or Be Square

Famous Author Rob Byrnes'
Book Launch Party
Monday, June 28, 2004
6:00 - 9:00 PM
at Posh
405 West 51st Street
(at 9th Avenue)
Manhattan

Yesterday around noon my digital cable and cable modem were installed.

Wow.

Did you know that Sundance is showing a lot of gay movies for pride? Did you know that Fox Sports shows rugby at 4 a.m.? Did you know that you can download movies almost instantly?

I am so tired right now.

Probably right.


You are Kermit the Frog.
You are reliable, responsible and caring. And you
have a habit of waving your arms about
maniacally.

FAVORITE EXPRESSIONS:
"Hi ho!" "Yaaay!" and
"Sheesh!"
FAVORITE MOVIE:
"How Green Was My Mother"

LAST BOOK READ:
"Surfin' the Webfoot: A Frog's Guide to the
Internet"

HOBBIES:
Sitting in the swamp playing banjo.

QUOTE:
"Hmm, my banjo is wet."


What Muppet are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Cool article in the Village Voice written by one of my teammates.

Man, what a fucking day! Busy at work, too many damn phone calls. Doctor's appointment that I thought would take an hour and a half actually took three and a half hours.

Anyway, I'm ready to go home.

Saturday - Jo Jo Moore Rugby Tournament in Peekskill, NY. We took the good, we took the bad, we took them both and there we had the tournament . . . the tournament. (For those of you too young to remember, 'The Facts of Life' was set in Peekskill.) Anywho, we lost but we had lots of fun. Highlights, watching the Under 19 competition (Made me wish I'd played rugby at that age) and scoping out the hot paramedic who was on hand at the tournament. Yum.

All the proceeds of the event went to benefit Jo Jo Moore who was left paralyzed after a rugby accident. He attended the rugby day. I've got to say, if that ever happens to me, I can only hope that I will handle it with the dignity and grace that he exhibited. Seems like a hell of a guy.

My only major fuck up of the day was deciding that I would forgo wearing sunscreen because 1) it was overcast, 2) I was planning to stay in the shade, and 3) being Irish/Scottish/German I knew that I'd never get a sunburn. Needless to say, my typically fishbelly white skin is now lobster red and covered with the most amusing little blisters. Looking on the bright side, it doesn't hurt . . . unless I touch it, bump up against anything, wear clothes, move, blink, or breathe. Good times.

Sunday was quiet. I spent most of it in bed praying to the Sun God to take back my sunburn. That didn't seem to help so I slathered myself in cocoa butter instead. Didn't help either, but I smelled really nice.

Once the sun started to set and I knew I could go outside without the threat of spontaneous immolation, I wandered down to Mike'nDavid's house ('nDavid is out of town for several weeks) to watch the first half of 'Salem's Lot'. It's not great (I mean, it's made for cable), but it does have some really good bits. Genuinely creepy.

So . . . after having visited two doctors in the past couple of weeks and having both of them tell me that most of what's wrong with me is because I've gained so damn much weight since my injury, I've decided to go back on the South Beach Diet. I'm going to re-read the book tonight and get things going. Hopefully by rugby season, most of the pain will have gone away and I'll be able to play. Of course the physical therapy and Vioxx should help too. But wish me luck on the diet. I hate it more than just about anything.

By the way, if anyone wants a Gmail invite, let me know.

Reminder: Marie's Crisis Cafe, Grove St. and 7th Ave., tonight 8:30 p.m., drinking and showtunes.

And, because I'm too lazy to come up with anything new, a meme.

WHERE WERE YOU...?
Borrowed from FA Rob Byrnes, who borrowed it from elsewhere, who etc. etc. etc.

1. Where were you when you heard that Ronald Reagan died?
At home. I flipped on the TV and saw a report that the flags at the White House were being lowered to half staff. I assumed Cheney had died.

2. Where were you on September 11, 2001?
At home. I heard on the radio about a 'small plane' having hit the WTC. I went to vote in the primary. When I came home, my mom was leaving me a frantic message making sure that I wasn't downtown (I lived on the UWS and worked in midtown, but she doesn't have a sense of where things are located in Manhattan).

3. Where were you when you heard that Princess Diana died?
Southern Decadence in New Orleans. Within an hour of the wreck, some queens were hitting the bars dressed as Dead Di.

4. Do you remember where you were when you heard Kurt Cobain had died?
Nope.

5. Take one for The Gipper: What’s your favorite flavor of jelly bean?
Buttered Popcorn (yes, I know I'm the only one).

6. Where were you when Magic Johnson announced he was retiring from the NBA due to AIDS?
No clue.

7. Where were you when Reagan was shot?
At school probably. I guess that was Junior High.

8.Where were you when the Challenger exploded?
At lunch at school. I didn't see it until after lunch in physics class. Our physics teacher was a runner up for the teacher in space.

9. Where were you when the 0J verdict was announced?
Grad school. A bunch of us gathered in one of a prof's office and watched it on TV.

This fucking sucks. I can think of any number of people who should quit blogging, but he isn't one of them.

I've been in a pretty lousy mood for the last few days (well, the last 35 years, truth be told, but I'm talking about the short term here). I've decided what I need is lots of alcohol and annoying theater queens singing showtunes (poorly).

That being said, I'm going to go to Marie's Crisis on Friday and drink and sing and drink and sing and stagger home and vomit.

Anyone care to join me for the drink and sing portion of the evening?

I reached 30,000 visitors to my site today. Thanks to Manhattan Dan who referred the 30,000th.

Last night I went to check on my friend Stuff's apartment. It was still there and in good shape, as was to be expected. Keep meaning to throw a party over there before he gets back, just haven't done it yet. I'll be sure to invite you all.

After checking his apartment, I decided to go see 'Saved!' at the googleplex on 42nd St. Hard to believe that was ever a bad part of town.

'Saved!' was cute, if somewhat predictable. Macaulay Culkin just seems to get hotter every time I see him. And Chad Faust who plays Jena Malone's gay boyfriend is pretty hot, too. Maybe I just need to get laid. Whatever. It was still a pretty funny movie. Some of it just hit a little too close to home. It's a hard to laugh at those painfully earnest Christians when I used to be one of them. Ah, well.

I think I'm done with movies for a little while. I've seen so damn many of them in the last couple of weeks. Besides, I'm now deep into party season. Most of the charities I work with/support throw parties during the summer. I've got three this week and at least one a week for the rest of the summer. Fun, but tiring.

Tonight I am being joined at one of the parties by David, a rugby friend, and Frank. If nothing else, the company will be good. Plus, I get to leave work early in order to get to the party on time. Woo hoo!

Nasty little bout of depression this weekend. Not sure what brought it on. Saturday, I slept all day. Didn't do anything else.

Sunday was better. I blew off the play; it didn't get good reviews in the Times so I was okay with that. I went to the team barbeque and had a pretty good time. Graham Norton was there so he was my weekend celebrity sighting.

After the barbeque I went to see 'The Stepford Wives'. It was alright, I guess. It would have been a better rental. I think sometime this week I'll go see 'Saved'.

Turns out tomorrow's rugby tournament is actually the following Saturday. Damn. Now I have to figure out something to do tomorrow. On the up side, this means I don't have to drag my ass out of bed at 6 a.m.

Last night was a hell of a lot of fun. My friend Paul suggested going to see Grease at the Clearview Chelsea Cinema; it was part of their Thursday camp classics series hosted by Hedda Lettuce (who was fucking hilarious). I haven't seen the movie on the big screen since, well, since 1978, I guess.

Highlights: Paul winning one of the raffle prizes. Irish Mark, a former teammate who happened to be at the movie and is looking buff and fine) winning one of the other prizes. Realizing I still have a bit of a crush on Kelly Ward and Jeff Conaway. Hearing the immortal words "Tell me about it, stud." Noticing that the tight, tight jeans the guys wore in the movie leave little to the imagination. Wondering if this is why I liked the movie so much as a kid.

Lowlights: The idiot behind me who sang along to all the songs despite not knowing the words. He'd kind of start open mouth humming until he figured out what the word or phrase was, then he'd sing the words in a rush trying to catch up. By the time 'Sandra Dee' rolled around, I wanted him dead.

I suppose another lowlight is that you can really tell how old the 'seniors' of Rydell High are when you see them on the big screen. I don't remember any of the kids I went to school with having crow's feet. I mean, Stockard Channing was almost my age when she made this movie. Can any of you see me passing for a high school senior? I think the only one who was even close to age-appropriate was Lorenzo Lamas, who was 20 at the time.

Well, regardless of that, I had a great time. There is a string of John Waters movies coming up over the summer; I think I'll check some of those out. It doesn't hurt that tickets to the Thursday movies are only $5.50.

Trivia: Brian Stokes Mitchell of various Broadway musicals fame is the same Brian Mitchell who was on Trapper John, MD. The fun stuff one learns on IMDB.

I knew I'd forget to mention this. My team, or rather the pretty and/or well-muscled members of my team, is featured in a fashion spread in July's Out magazine. It is already in some bookstores.

This is, I believe, the third major gay publication to feature photos of certain members of our team (Out, Genre and Instinct, if memory serves). Just one day, I'd love to see our entire team in one of them. But then, there are never photos of fat, hairy guys in major gay magazines unless they are doing a condescending article about 'bear culture'. Whatever.

Anyway, I suppose the publicity will be good for the team.

Other little bits and pieces from the last few days.

Reagan died. You may have missed this since it hasn't been getting a lot of media attention.

I got an e-mail last week from Frank saying that he'd be participating in a book reading at B&N on Monday. I went to it and was delighted to discover that the author he was reading with was Steve Kluger, author of one of my favorite books, The Last Days of Summer. His new book is Almost Like Being in Love, a cute gay love story, which apparently Gary Bauer hates. The reading was a lot of fun, plus I got to fawn over the author for a little while. I read the book that evening and even though I didn't like it as much as 'Summer' (sorry, Frank), it was still pretty good. I think the reason I liked 'Summer' better was that the main character, Joey, was so engaging. I liked the characters in 'Love', too, especially some of the incidental ones, but none of them clicked with me as much as Joey.

Anyway, run out an buy these books. And while you're there, buy 'Trust Fund Boys' by Famous Author Rob Byrnes.

So I had a doctor's appointment yesterday, not for the creeping crud that I've had for the last few days, but as a follow-up to my yearly physical. Now if your doctor tells you that your blood pressure is dangerously high and he's putting you on medication do you a) vow to work out and diet or b) go to the deli and buy a pint of Chunky Monkey then eat it in one sitting?

Yeah, I chose the Ben and Jerry's route, myself. Fuck it. Let's just hope the stroke is massive and not one of those pissant things that leaves me a vegetable.

What else . . . ? Oh, yeah. I'm going to a rugby tournament this weekend. Woo hoo!!! Should be loads of fun. And on Sunday I'm going to see a Moliere play out at BAM. The Imaginary Invalid is one of my favorite Moliere plays; I can't wait to see it done by the Comedie-Francaise (sorry, but I don't know how to put in the accents).

Um . . . that's all I have for now.

Oh, yeah. Did anyone tape the Tonys? Let me know. Well, okay, let me ammend that. Let me know if you taped it and a) live in NYC, or b) are willing to send me the tape.

If there is a good side to being sick, other than getting lots and lots of sleep, it's getting to catch up on movies. This weekend I saw 'Harry Potter and the blah, blah, blah' and 'The Day After Tomorrow'.

'Harry' was disappointing. I thought it was a little, well, boring. Plus, there was once again a dearth of Harry on Draco action. Now, I haven't read the books, but all the fanfic I read usually ends up with the two of them getting it on and I'm sure that the fanfic is pretty true to the books. Right?

Kidding aside, I really couldn't get into this one very much. But I will say this, it was a beautiful film. The cinematography was amazing, as was the directing. I just didn't much care for the story.

'Day After Tomorrow' was what I expected. Great special effects. Good, though completely unbelievable, story. Lousy dialogue and acting (if you want to call it that).

I have a sick fascination with movies that destroy the city I live in. From 'Deep Impact' to 'Independence Day', I love watching New York get destroyed. This movie was especially fun because most of the action took place a couple of blocks from where I work, so I'm very familiar with the area. One minor problem that I wonder if anyone else from the city caught. Did you notice that the wall of water entered Manhattan from the southwest, but the wave that nearly killed our plucky heroes was travelling on 41st Street from the east? But then again, the writers managed to get a huge Russian freighter (unmanned and somehow upright despite the killer wave) to 'drift' to the corner of 5th Ave. and 42nd Street, so I really shouldn't be worrying too much about verisimilitude.

Anyway, watching New York and LA get destroyed was worth the price of admission.

So that was my cinema-going experience. I also rented 'The Princess Diaries,' 'The Triplettes of Belleville,' 'East is East,' and 'Brotherhood of the Wolf'.

Here are my nutshell reviews:

'Princess' cute, frothy, fun.
'Belleville' funky, artsy, awsome
'East' drama billed as a madcap comedy
'Wolf' thank God for the fast foward button

Other than that, it was a quiet and rather phlemy weekend. Went to a laid back party on Saturday at Turtle's. Hung out with Dino on Sunday. Called in sick Monday. Had most of Tuesday off.

Not too exciting.

Maybe I'll make up stuff next weekend so it sounds better.

My office is closed today for a 'retreat'. Guess who totally forgot and is sitting at his desk feeling like a douche?

Anyway, I'm going to go home now. Dammit.

I was sick all weekend. I'm sick today. This blows.

I'll try to blog some this evening or tomorrow. Right now, I'm going to take some more Nyquil and get back in bed.

Daniel Cudmore LOVES Crash

02022 2224 446 810 91

Love Level: 91%

Name 1:
Name 2:

Loves-O-Meter
From Go-Quiz.com

Stolen Borrowed from Shadowfoot.

Crash is poisonous! Induce vomitting if ingested.

N POISON

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com

Another meme. Because I am secure enough in my individuality to be just like everyone else.

10 Bands/Singers You've Seen Live:

1. Pansy Division
2. Three Dog Night
3. America
4. Jimmy Buffett
5. Michael Bolton (don't judge me)
6. Phil Collins
7. Sting
8. Tito Puente and Celia Cruz
9. Pinetop Perkins
10. Johnny Lang

9 Things You're Looking Forward To:

1. A haircut
2. Fall rugby season
3. Fixing my computer
4. Hanging out with Mike
5. Dating . . . someday . . . please God
6. Rearranging my apartment
7. Seeing the new Harry Potter movie
8. Keeping in touch with some of the guys I met this weekend
9. Going back to Europe, hopefully soon

8 Things You Wear Daily:

1. Boxer-briefs
2. My Faux-vado watch
3. My Buddhist ring
4. My Celtic ring
5. My Virgin Mary medal
6. Glasses
7. Footwear of some type
8. A look of annoyance

7 Things That Annoy You

1. Children
2. Tourists
3. Bad breath
4. Body odor
5. High-pitched noises
6. Bicycle messengers
7. Oblivious fucks on their cell phones

6 Things You Touch Every Day

1. My tooth brush
2. My beard
3. My cell phone
4. My books
5. My bed
6. Myself . . . in that way that makes Jesus weep

5 Things You Do Every Day

1. Shower
2. Go to the bathroom
3. Eat
4. Worry
5. See number 6 above.

4 Of Your Favorite Bands or Musicians

1. The Eagles
2. Mary Chapin Carpenter
3. Johnny Lang
4. Indigo Girls

3 Movies You Could Watch Over and Over

1. Priscilla, Queen of the Desert
2. Billy Elliot
3. Beautiful Thing

2 Of Your Favorite Songs At This Moment

1. It Sucks to Be Me (from Avenue Q)
2. Rainbow Connection (as sung by a bunch of drunk bloggers)

1 Person You Could Spend The Rest of Your Life With

1. Yeah, right.

I'm home. And I'm exhausted. I'll post all the fun stuff later. But for now, here are the highlights.

Having the drunk girl behind me on the plane, when asked by the flight attendant if she'd like the chicken or the beef for dinner, ask what the difference was. Well, Einstein, I imagine that one of them features chicken as the entree and the other one beef. But, hey, I could be wrong.

Meeting Sherry, Dan and Stairs in Cambridge. Best day of the whole trip.

Having our B-side team make it to the finals. Even though we lost in overtime, it was by far the most exciting match of the entire tournament.

Seeing a player hit a ref, who then red carded him (rightly so). This was followed by his team flipping her off and yelling at ther, her calling the game and the team being disqualified from the tournament.

Nearly getting into a bar fight. No one gets into bar fights at the gay bars in New York. Hanging out with the London Steelers is interesting to say the least.

Spending three hours wandering around the National Portrait Gallery.

Spending two hours wandering around a very, very minute portion of the British Museum.

Seeing Diana Rigg in 'Suddenly Last Summer'.

Watching one of my teammates pick up an internationally known porn star at the airport.

Not having to think about work or anything else for a whole week.

Bangers and mash, my new comfort food of choice.

Welsh guys. Well, one in particular.

Kilts. Lots and lots of kilts.

Having the Queen come to our opening party and having my picture taken with her. Okay, she was just an impersonator, but still.

Making sweet, sweet monkey love with Ben Cohen and Jonny Wilkinson. Well, okay, that didn't really happen, but a boy can dream.

Cider. Every bar, restaurant and club served cider. I must have had at least four or five per day.

Anyway, I'm still slogging through e-mails and it's time for lunch, so I'll write more about the trip later.

Okay, I'm out of here. No updates unless I can get internet access. Do they have that in England?

So if you feel like praying that the flight makes it okay and I don't freak out half way across the Atlantic, I'd appreciate it.

Just had my first flying-related panic attack.

Let the good times roll.

My passport is ready. A whole 25 hours before I would have been completely up shit creek with a non-refundable paddle.

Note to self: Next time your passport expires, renew the fucking thing immediately.

So, in a mere 25.5 hours, I will be boarding a bus to take me to the airport. Four hours later I will be white-knuckled and shaking as we take off for London. Hopefully, the combination of cool music on my CD player, horse tranqulizers Tylenol PM, and my flying mantra ("Oh God, please don't let us crash," repeated until plane touches down) will see me safely to London in time to start the morning.

Note to teammates: Happy Well-Rested Crash - teddy bear, cuddly, fun. Sleepy Grumpy Crash - grizzly bear, sharp claws, deathbringer.

All the things I swore to accomplish before leaving for my trip are nowhere near completion. I'm dumping it all on my boss's desk. I feel horrible about it, but that is how it goes sometimes.

Oh, God. I just realized I have to pack. What the hell should I bring for a week in London? What do people wear in London? I'm a jeans and t-shirt sort of guy. Will I be able to get in the clubs like that or do I need to bring "nice" clothes?

Damn.

Since several of my blogger friends have already discussed this weekend in more eloquent terms than I'm able to write, I'll post my GB:NY (thanks to boifromtroy for that title) awards.

The Trompe L'Oeil Award goes to Zeitzeuge for his interesting, um . . . self portrait. It was either this or the Everything Is Bigger In Texas Award.

The Jewish Mother Award goes to, well, Zenchick, of course. Thanks for the Mylanta, mom.

The Dukes of Hazzard Award is a three-way tie between Mezzanine, Zeitzeuge and Michael. Those accents had me fixin' to thrown on my short shorts and change my name to Daisy. Okay, fine, I'd actually be Boss Hogg.

The Twink Magnet Award goes to BoiFromTroy who always seemed to be in the company of the cute boys. Lucky bastard.

The Dude, Who's That Guy You Were Just Talking To? Award is a tie between Addaboy and AccidentalNewYorker. Every time I walked away from either of these two, at least one or two guys would come up and ask me that question with a little hint of lust in their eyes. Ah, to be good looking and sought after. Sigh.

The Oh My God, I Love Gawker Award goes to Famous Author Rob Byrnes for his Choire Sicha impersonation.

The Sexy Voice Award goes to Palochi. Damn, son, if I knew you sounded that good, I'd have been drunk dialing you months ago.

More to follow soon . . .

Many of our non-rugby playing events in London involve tours of famous places. According to an e-mail I just got, one of our tours involves having access to 'the Royal box'. I am fervently praying that the Royal box is attached to either Prince William or Prince Harry, but I have a feeling I'm going to be disappointed.

Unrealistic Promises I'm Making Today
I will not start drinking shots.
I will not hit on the cute guys.
I will not remove my clothing or anyone else's.
I will not allow my Texas accent to come out while talking to the Southern boys.
I will not start singing showtunes at the top of my lungs on the street with MAK, PatCH and Bob.
I will not tell everyone my naked Celine Dion story.
I will not talk endlessly about rugby.
I will not get all moody about the fact that most of these guys have boyfriends and I don't.
I will not forget everyone's real names and just refer to them by their blog names.
I will not repeat the bathroom incident.
I will not do the boat race, beer slide or elephant walk at the rugby party.
I will not watch the 'who's got the biggest dick' contest that will likely happen at the rugby party.
I will not act like a drunk frat boy.
I will not vomit.
I will not make fun of anyone who vomits.

Realistic Promises I'm Making Today
I will wake up tomorrow with a blinding hangover and a dread fear of what will get posted on Monday.

Please remember . . . what happens at the blogger party stays at the blogger party.

Oh, yeah. Last night was the series finale of 'Angel' and the season finale of 'Law & Order'. I'm housesitting for Stuff who is out of town and since I don't get WB and my recption on NBC kinda sucks, decided to watch them at his place.

So I was movin' on up to the east side, to his deluxe apartment in the sky (or tiny studio on the second floor to be accurate). I grabbed a couple of slices, went upstairs, settled in on the couch and turned on the tv.

That son of a bitch had his cable disconnected while he was out of town.

Bastard!!!

I made it home in time to catch L&O but not Angel. Anyone tape it?

Horribly, horribly busy. And the fact that I'm going to London in five days just came crashing down on me. I have so much to do that I may have to curtail some of this weekend's festivities.

Speaking of which, the industrious BoifromTroy created a logo for our Friday night gay blogger (and their friends) get-together. Pretty cool looking, don't you think?

Let's see . . . anything else?

Oh, yeah. Someone found my site by searching for "Italian Greyhound flaccid penis". I so don't want to know what that's all about.

Still liking 'Colonial House'. Still think the governor is a sanctimonious prick. Still think the lay preacher is a self-important prick. Still think a couple of the guys are hot, though the more scruffy and dirty they get, the less I think so.

The issue of the gay guy coming out was handled fairly well, I suppose, though the governor pissed me off with his 'confession is the first step to mastering your sin' comment that he made (not to the gay guy, thank God). The other thing that kind of pissed me off was that the governor decided not to punish the guy for being gay. Okay, I understand that homosexuality would have been punished back in 1628, but it wasn't like the guy was caught having sex with another guy. He admitted to being gay in the context of everyone in the group talking about who they were in real life, as opposed to the roles they are playing on 'Colonial House'. The fact that the governor felt that he had to decide not to punish the guy pisses me off. It wasn't like he had to decide not to punish the Voorhies family for being atheists or any of the women for having jobs or being 'liberated' in the real world.

I'm getting entirely too worked up over this.

And we're moving on.

So, I'm enjoying watching the group adapt to the work and the primitive conditions. I was amazed watching them make the spars and build the house. I love the little voiceovers that explain the history and conventions of the time. Last night's fact that stuck in my head, water was often foul so people drank fermented drinks most of the time. Some people drank up to a gallon of beer a day. Make that cider instead of beer and I'd have been a happy puppy.

Sadly, I'll be missing the next couple of episodes because of my trip to London. Damn. Somebody better tape it.

Day two of legalized gay marriage in Massachussets. Stars haven't fallen to earth. Statues of Jesus aren't weeping blood. Demons haven't risen from the earth to feed off the blood of Christian babies in Boston.

Just thought I'd point that out.

This is pretty damned amazing, especially if you live in a part of NYC that it covers. It's a sort of virtual walking tour.

Here is what I found out. Jack Kerouac wrote 'On the Road' two blocks from where I live. Mike'nDavid live across from Woody Guthrie's old apartment and the restaurant on the first floor of their apartment was a lesbian bar back in the Stonewall era.

I'm spending way too much time on this site, but it's really cool.

A few things to cover today, so please try to keep up.

First, Colonial House rocks. I would so love to do a show like this. I think, just for shits and giggles, I'll sign up for the next one. The odds are I won't get picked, but what the heck.

I didn't much care for the sanctimonious Southern Baptist preacher who was the governor of the colony (though his leadership skills seemed much better than the touchy feely guy who replaced him), but I felt horrible for what his family went through during the filming (they found out early on that their son and their daughter's fiance were in a car wreck; the fiance was killed, but they haven't told what happened to their son. The family went back to Texas; last night's episode ended with the preacher/governor returning, without his family, but they didn't say if he was staying or if his family would be returning. I doubt it).

On a less serious note, they showed two of the guys skinny dipping. Yeah, it was hot.

After watching the show and the little 'making of' special, I surfed for a little while until I ran across Oprah's 'Colonial House' special. It seems she spent a couple of days with in the colony toward the end of the show. It was fascinating having just seen the first episode then being able to see how the community had changed over the four months. People were thinner. A lot thinner. And really, really filthy. But they really seem to have come together as a group, so I'm really looking forward to watching them come together during the upcoming episodes.

Oh, and one of the guys on the show is gay. Apparently this becomes an issue, so I'm curious to see what happens.

Earlier in the evening I went to a fundraiser for a charity called Living Beyond Belief. The group raises money to give scholarships to teens who work as HIV/AIDS peer educators. Great organization, but the event was a bit of a cluster fuck. The invitation said the event started at 6. Well, that's when the doors opened and the silent auction started. The actual event didn't start until 8:30. Or rather, that's when it would have started if the talent had shown up on time. As it was, things didn't get started until 9:15. I don't know if it was Rosie Perez who was late or Daphne Rubin-Vega, but I'm not a big enough fan of either of them to stick around.

The important thing is that the group raised decent money at the event (I'm pretty sure I won a silent auction or two) and that the teens who were getting awards (the awards were called Butterfly Awards and were beautiful) were having a great time.

So that was my evening.

The last thing to talk about, assuming you're still with me, is a party this Friday night. My rugby team is going to London next week to participate in the Bingham Cup tournament (basically the World's Cup for gay rugby). We will be having a going away party at the Eagle on Friday night from 7 until . . . well, it will probably migrate to someone's apartment before the night is done. Since there are going to be so many out of town bloggers visiting New York, I hope to get some of them to the party. Of course, I want all the New York bloggers there as well.

The party kicks off with $5 all you can drink beer from 7 p.m. until the kegs run out. Now in fairness, given that the rugby boys are big drinkers, I doubt the kegs will last long. So get there early.

After that, we have drink specials until 10. The party will be on the roof deck unless it rains.

Expect rugby songs, beer fights, boat races, gratuitous nudity, and generally bad behavior. It should be fun. If any of you want more info about this, drop me a line (my e-mail link is on the right).

Another meme. From Kris. Below is the college board list of books that kids should have read by the time they go to college (or something to that effect). I've put the one's I've read in bold.

Not great, but not too bad compared to most Americans, I'd wager. And I read two of the novels in French, rather than translations.


Beowulf

Achebe, Chinua - Things Fall Apart

Agee, James - A Death in the Family

Austen, Jane - Pride and Prejudice

Baldwin, James - Go Tell It on the Mountain

Beckett, Samuel - Waiting for Godot

Bellow, Saul - The Adventures of Augie March

Brontë, Charlotte - Jane Eyre

Brontë, Emily - Wuthering Heights

Camus, Albert - The Stranger

Cather, Willa - Death Comes for the Archbishop

Chaucer, Geoffrey - The Canterbury Tales

Chekhov, Anton - The Cherry Orchard

Chopin, Kate - The Awakening

Conrad, Joseph - Heart of Darkness

Cooper, James Fenimore - The Last of the Mohicans

Crane, Stephen - The Red Badge of Courage

Dante - Inferno

de Cervantes, Miguel - Don Quixote

Defoe, Daniel - Robinson Crusoe

Dickens, Charles - A Tale of Two Cities

Dostoyevsky, Fyodor - Crime and Punishment

Douglass, Frederick - Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass

Dreiser, Theodore - An American Tragedy

Dumas, Alexandre - The Three Musketeers

Eliot, George - The Mill on the Floss

Ellison, Ralph - Invisible Man

Emerson, Ralph Waldo - Selected Essays

Faulkner, William - As I Lay Dying

Faulkner, William - The Sound and the Fury

Fielding, Henry - Tom Jones

Fitzgerald, F. Scott - The Great Gatsby

Flaubert, Gustave - Madame Bovary

Ford, Ford Madox - The Good Soldier

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von - Faust

Golding, William - Lord of the Flies

Hardy, Thomas - Tess of the d'Urbervilles

Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Scarlet Letter

Heller, Joseph - Catch 22

Hemingway, Ernest - A Farewell to Arms

Homer - The Iliad

Homer - The Odyssey

Hugo, Victor - The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Hurston, Zora Neale - Their Eyes Were Watching God

Huxley, Aldous - Brave New World

Ibsen, Henrik - A Doll's House

James, Henry - The Portrait of a Lady

James, Henry - The Turn of the Screw

Joyce, James - A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Kafka, Franz - The Metamorphosis

Kingston, Maxine Hong - The Woman Warrior

Lee, Harper - To Kill a Mockingbird

Lewis, Sinclair - Babbitt

London, Jack - The Call of the Wild

Mann, Thomas - The Magic Mountain

Marquez, Gabriel García - One Hundred Years of Solitude

Melville, Herman - Bartleby the Scrivener

Melville, Herman - Moby Dick

Miller, Arthur - The Crucible

Morrison, Toni - Beloved

O'Connor, Flannery - A Good Man is Hard to Find

O'Neill, Eugene - Long Day's Journey into Night

Orwell, George - Animal Farm

Pasternak, Boris - Doctor Zhivago

Plath, Sylvia - The Bell Jar

Poe, Edgar Allan - Selected Tales

Proust, Marcel - Swann's Way

Pynchon, Thomas - The Crying of Lot 49

Remarque, Erich Maria - All Quiet on the Western Front

Rostand, Edmond - Cyrano de Bergerac

Roth, Henry - Call It Sleep

Salinger, J.D. - The Catcher in the Rye

Shakespeare, William - Hamlet

Shakespeare, William - Macbeth

Shakespeare, William - A Midsummer Night's Dream

Shakespeare, William - Romeo and Juliet

Shaw, George Bernard - Pygmalion

Shelley, Mary - Frankenstein

Silko, Leslie Marmon - Ceremony

Solzhenitsyn, Alexander - One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich

Sophocles - Antigone

Sophocles - Oedipus Rex

Steinbeck, John - The Grapes of Wrath

Stevenson, Robert Louis - Treasure Island

Stowe, Harriet Beecher - Uncle Tom's Cabin

Swift, Jonathan - Gulliver's Travels

Thackeray, William - Vanity Fair

Thoreau, Henry David - Walden

Tolstoy, Leo - War and Peace

Turgenev, Ivan - Fathers and Sons

Twain, Mark - The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

Voltaire - Candide

Vonnegut, Kurt Jr. - Slaughterhouse-Five

Walker, Alice - The Color Purple

Wharton, Edith - The House of Mirth

Welty, Eudora - Collected Stories

Whitman, Walt - Leaves of Grass

Wilde, Oscar - The Picture of Dorian Gray

Williams, Tennessee - The Glass Menagerie

Woolf, Virginia - To the Lighthouse

Wright, Richard - Native Sons

Good weekend, I suppose. Didn't do anything Friday night. I did some shopping and cleaning on Saturday. Still not much selection at the farmers' market, but things should start picking up soon.

Saturday night I got together with Turtle, Paul, Ted, Doug and David (teammates of mine) for drinks at Ty's (where I was hit on by a guy who looked like Art Carney, who is, bear in mind, dead) and dinner at Cowgirl Hall of Fame (chicken-fried steak). While we were at dinner, the skies opened up. Lightning, thunder, street flooding . . . woo hoo! The storm up here have been awesome recently.

Let's see. Sunday was the AIDS Walk; there were about 10 or so guys from the team walking. I snuck off early to see 'Homebody/Kabul' by Tony Kushner out at BAM. It was a remarkable play.

After it was over (3 hours and 45 minutes with 2 ten minute intermissions), I headed back home. I decided to see 'The Mudge Boy' that evening; Mike'nDavid met me there. From the descriptions I'd read, I expected this to be a comedy/drama coming of age, family thing. Maybe a little like 'Ma Vie en Rose'.

Well, it was nothing like 'Ma Vie en Rose'. It was really disturbing and upsetting. I'm still in kind of a funk over it. Maybe I'll write about it a little later.

Suffice to say, between 'Homebody/Kabul' and 'The Mudge Boy', Sunday was a depressing, if somewhat cultured, day.

I just applied for my passport renewal. While this is all well and good, I made the mistake of holding my new passport photo next to my old passport photo.

Now I have "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables stuck in my head.

Getting old sucks.

WTF is up with blogrolling today? It isn't working and it's causing my blog to load really slowly.

I watched Elephant last night. I would say I watched at least a third of the movie in fast forward. It sucked.

Near as I can tell, Gus Van Sant made this movie in order to be around very, very cute high school boys. Fine. I'm cool with that. But the least he could have done was take a page out of Victor Salva's book and actually hired one or two people who could act.

Very little dialogue, I would guess that all of it was improvised. The kids couldn't act and certainly shouldn't have been allowed to try improv. They had an annoying habit of looking at the camera. Special effects blew (usually when someone gets shot, there are entry and exit wounds. Not in this movie). Glacial pacing. Long, drawn out 'mood setting' shots of people walking down hallways or of clouds (after the third or fourth one, I started using the fast forward button). A gay shower scene that comes out of nowhere. Very little actual emotion.

This is the only Van Sant movie I've seen. I would like to rent a couple of his other ones (ones that he wrote and directed as well as ones that he only directed) to see if I hate him as a director or as a writer, or perhaps as both.

Last night I rented Elephant and Love Actually. I watched Love Actually last night and found it to be a delightfully charming movie. And I cried like a little girl for the last 15 minutes or so. I'm one of those sappy, romantic types and I'm a sucker for a happy ending where the guy gets the girl (or the guy gets the guy or the girl gets the girl depending on what I've rented).

I think I'm going to buy this movie.

I imagine Elephant won't be quite as much of a lovely, romantic romp.

Very fun dinner last night with Rob, David, Faustus and E.S. Good food and great conversation.

After dinner, Rob, David and I went to see 'Mean Girls'. I'll admit to not really caring for it all that much. Sure, there were funny bits, but it really wasn't anything that hasn't been done before in a thousand movies. I'd bet that the movie wouldn't have been made if Tina Fey wasn't involved, but who knows.

I did think that the acting was good, though. And there were some hot guys.

Two interesting hits on my site today. One was looking for "orlando bloom shirtless Troy." The other was looking for "Ross Friends shirtless."

Both of those make my toes curl for entirely different reasons.

Dinner tonight with David, Faustus and E.S.. Very, very cool. All we need is Dorothy Parker and we'd be all set.

Weekend update. Friday - rugby board meeting; not horrible. Saturday - slept until 3; woke up; did nothing. Sunday - slept until 1; woke up; did nothing.

Okay, not entirely true. Played about 6 hours of solitaire. Drank a dozen diet Dr. Peppers. Called both moms for Mother's Day. Watched TV (cursed, evil box). Wanked to computer porn Did online research. Bought a vacuum. Cleaned up around the house. Bought some lilac from the deli next door.

I also blew off the rugby tournament on Saturday. And the party that followed at our president's place. Totally in an antisocial mood. Not that there is anything unusual about that.

Yet another reason to love Mark.

His review of 'Van Helsing'.

". . . the movie was like having a clown screaming in your face for two hours while being hit in the head with a baseball bat."

Now on with the answers to last week's questions.

From Homer

1. You are on death row - what will be your last meal?

My mom's cooking - Chicken soup (best in the world), Biscuits, Pumpkin Pie.

2. What will be the last song you listen to?

Beethoven's 9th Symphony.

3. Who will be the last person you have sex with (anybody in the world)?

What with death breathing down my neck, I imagine that sex would be the last thing on my mind. But if I had to choose, there was this guy, Nathan, that I had a huge crush on in college. Straight, of course. But since this is just a fantasy anyway . . . I'd choose him.

But earlier in that same evening, I'd want to get with Daniel Cudmore, Orlando Bloom, Keanu Reeves (if I can keep him from speaking), Brad Pitt, most of the Bel Ami 'models' and the French and English national rugby teams. I mean, what the hell? It's not like I'd have to worry about being tired and sore the next day.

My blog is one year old today.

Woo hoo!

Your questions answered.

From Brian
1. If you could be any kind of salad dressing, what would you be and why?

I would be red wine vinaigrette. Light, subtle, doesn't overwhelm, with a certain tart tanginess.

2. Where's the weirdest place you had sex and without getting too crass...what happened?

In a Sunday school room at church (sorry if this lowers anyone's opinion of me . . . assuming that is even possible). As for what happened, that's a story for another time, suffice it to say that a truth or dare game got out of hand. Which is exactly what you expect when you play truth or dare with another boy.

3. Kumquats or plethora -- which word sounds funnier to you and why.

Kumquats. Because a 'kw' sound if extremely funny in the middle of a word. That is why Aquaman is inherently funnier that any of the other Superfriends. Plus, the mother of a friend of mine once accidentally asked a stockboy if his store sold 'kumtwats'. She immediately realized what she said, blushed, turned around and never went back to that store again.

From Sherry
1. if you could be a world expert on anything, what would it be?

Two of my odd little passions are ethnobotany and theatre history. Of the two, I'd love to be a world expert on theatre history.

2. what is the most embarrassing article of clothing you own?

There are a couple. My most embarrassing article is probably my compression shorts that I wear under my rugby shorts when I play. They are great, comfortable, keep all the naughty bits where they're supposed to be, but they are also skin-tight and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

The other article of clothing would be a Jiffi Condom t-shirt that was an impulse buy when I was in London studying for a summer. If memory serves (I don't think I've ever worn it), it reads "Jiffi Brand Condoms" on the front and the back reads "Don't be daft, don't be silly, wear a Jiffi on your willy" . . . or words to that effect. And I'm not sure if it's 'willy' or 'willie'.

For the record, I will not be wearing that while I'm in London.

3. how many people have you snogged?

Hmmm. More than I should have and fewer than I wish. Truth is, that is one of my favorite activities, though many gay men consider it to be something that should be rushed through in order to get to the 'good stuff.'

From The Other Brian
1. What do you like best about your life?

It's a two-edged sword, but I guess what I like best is that I've always had an easy life. I've never really been deprived. There has always been enough money. No great losses. School was never much work. Jobs have been fairly easy to come by and haven't been horrible. My friends and family are generally good people.

The down side to all of this is a lack of motivation. I've known people who've really been deprived and have worked their asses off to make up for it. They usually wind up being very successful people. Would I have been like that if I'd had to work harder for what I've gotten?

2. What do you like least about your life?

I'm not really happy. There are times when I'm more or less content. Sometimes there are fleeting moments of joy. But most of the time I feel like I'm existing rather than living.

3. Do you judge others by higher or lower standards than you use to judge yourself?

Lower standards than I use to judge myself, but I have impossibly high standards for myself (at least that's what my shrink was always harping on). Even if the standards are lower for others than for myself, they are probably unfairly high.

If the blogger boys call to say that we're all meeting for happy hour, but that we aren't going to stay out too late or drink too much, they are lying.

God, I'm wrecked.

Oh, one other thing. If you give us your number, we will drunk dial you. And we will sing show tunes.

Stolen from Inspired by Patrick and Brian.

Three Questions

Here is how it goes.

- Anyone and everyone who reads this, gets to ask me three questions. Leave the questions in the comments section
- Ask me anything you want and I will truthfully answer it*.
- On your blog, copy and paste this text inviting your friends to ask you anything.

Sounds easy enough, right? Let the question-asking begin!

*Of course, if you ask something completely crass, rude or inappropriate, the answer might be that it's none of your fucking business. Therefore...play nice.

I almost called in sick today. It's not so much that I feel 'sick' sick; it's just this general sense of ennui, masking itself as malaise.

Recently I've begun to feel like a character in a Chekhov play. I'm bored. I'm tired. I want to go to Moscow.

Well, not exactly, but you get my drift.

Maybe it's all the vodka.

Anyway, happy Cinco de Mayo. Not my favorite Mexican holiday; I've always been a Dia de los Muertos man, myself. But here is a recipe for y'all to try to celebrate the French getting their asses kicked by the Mexicans. Don't ask me how it tastes, you couldn't pay me enough to eat tripe.

Mamacita's Menudo

1 calf's foot (about 1 to 1 1/2 pounds)
2 pounds honeycomb tripe
1 large onion
3 cloves garlic, peeled
6 peppercorns
2 teaspoons salt, or to taste
4 quarts of water
3 large chiles anchos
A large chile poblano, peeled or 2 canned, peeled green chiles
1/2 cup canned hominy (1 pound) drained (see note below)
Salt as necessary
1 scant teaspoon oregano

Have the butcher cut the calf's foot into four pieces. Cut the tripe into small squares. Put them into the pan with the rest of the ingredients. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Lower the flame and simmer uncovered for about 2 hours, or until the tripe and foot are just tender but not too soft. Meanwhile, toast the chilies well. Slit them open and remove the seeds and veins from the chile poblano, cut it into strips, and add to the meat while it is cooking. Remove the pieces of calf's foot from the pen, and when they are cool enough to handle, strip off the fleshy parts. Chop them roughly and return them to the pan.

Add hominy and continue cooking the menudo slowly, still uncovered, for another 2 hours.

Add salt as necessary. Sprinkle with oregano and serve (see note below).

This amount is sufficient for 7 or 8 people. It should be served in large, deep bowls with hot tortillas and small dishes of chopped chile serranos, finely chopped onion and wedges of lime for each person to help himself, along with Salsa de Tomate Verde Cruda to be eaten with tortillas.

Also taken from her.

1. What is the “theme” on your calendar this year?
Naked French rugby players. Mmmm . . . Dieux Du Stade.

2. Do you read the newspaper every day?
Not the print versions. Just the online ones.

3. What kind of shoes are you wearing right now?
Johnston & Murphy oxfords. Size 11.5.

4. What magazines do you subscribe to?
Better Homes & Gardens, Out, Blues Revue, Writer's Digest, Lambda Literary Review, Time Out New York, and . . . um, Freshmen.

5. What is your favorite condiment?
Mustard . . . neon yellow French's.

6. What was the first occupation you remember wanting to have?
A professor. Actually, the Professor (from Gilligan's Island).

7. Are you a green thumb?
Yep. I love plants and they love me. Just goes to show what a $100,000 degree in Botany will do for you.

8. Did you have an imaginary friend when you were little?
Yes.

9. Do you floss regularly?
Floss? What's that again?

10. If you could still hang posters of celebrities on your walls and get away with it like when you were 12, who would be on your walls right now?
Daniel Cudmore and Orlando Bloom, preferably in the same poster. And shirtless.

11. Do you keep shoe boxes or throw them away?
Keep 'em, use 'em.

12. Would you be embarassed if someone looked under your bed?
Dear God, yes.

13. If you could be one character in book, who would you be?
Mr. Darcy. Though I often feel like him anyway.

14. What do you sleep in?
Would it be tacky to offer to show you?

15. What is your favourite word?
Cool.

Taken from her.


Cheese Test: What type of cheese are you?

In the past week, two of my friends have been quoted in the NY Times. One is a lawyer who was talking about a death penalty case, if I remember correctly. The other is an actress/playwright who was quoted in an article about the surge of politically-themed art and theater that is being planned around the Republican convention.

Cool stuff.

I may not be famous, or even interesting, but I know people who are.

You may not like his politics. You may not give a flying fuck about his football team. But you gotta love the quote.

Quote of the Day
When people ask me how I can be Republican and gay, I tell them it's because I like ass-f*cking. - Boi From Troy

I just noticed that my blog will be one year old this Sunday.

I'm not sure what I'll do to celebrate. Maybe I'll try that 'alcohol' thing the kids keep talking about. Apparently you can drink it. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try it once. But I certainly won't make a habit of it.

On the good news/bad news front, I was futzing around with my TV set yesterday and somehow managed to get the antenna to work. Oops. Rather than ripping out whatever wire I had managed to connect, I sat down and watched part two of '10.5', which was truly and spectacularly horrible. Everyone involved with it should be deeply ashamed. And I feel truly bad for the trained monkeys that they hired to write the script, which was indeed the TV equivalent of flinging feces.

But I watched it.

That's why I haven't made any serious effort to get cable or attach my antenna. I am mesmerized by the idiot box to the exclusion of all else. Well, except for porn. They run neck and neck. Or neck and something else. The point is, this is not a good thing.

So I suppose it is inevitable that I will be watching the 'Friends' series finale. I haven't seen the show since 2001. I assume I haven't missed anything important. Everyone's still white. They don't have any other friends. They drink coffee. Chandler is annoying. Monica looks anorexic. Ross hasn't yet been bludgeoned to death. Joey and Phoebe are still two-dimensional. Rachel is . . . whatever it is that she is. Cute and whiny?

What I'd like to see on the finale. Joey admits that he and Chandler are more than friends. The monkey comes back and kills Ross. Phoebe marries Ozzy Osbourne and gets a spinoff series on MTV. Rachel . . . ah, who the fuck cares? The episode ends with Monica finally snapping after not having eaten for about 6 years and eating the rest of the cast.

Then, after the credits, we find out that the entire series was just a dream Ugly Naked Guy was having.

Fin.

So what do you figure? Ten years until the reunion special? Five? Fall?

I'm still remarkably busy at work. And yet, I'm blogging. I need a break and this is lunchtime, so I'll cut myself a little slack.

I'm still working on my job description (turns out everyone has to do one . . . since we can't all be getting fired, I'm not too worried). On paper, I do a lot.

Well, back to the salt mines. Okay, it's not really a salt mine. There are precious few of those left in Manhattan.

I need a few more hours in the day. Too much to do.

Anyway, a brief synopsis.

Friday night/Saturday - Unpacking at mom's house.

Sunday - Youth Rugby camp. Had 8 kids show up despite the weather. Great time.

Sunday night - Happy hour(s) with Stuff and Hugh. Splash, g and Barracuda. Good time.

Stuff is off to China today. Damn. Ah well, I guess I'll have to get the blogger boys to take me out more often.