POST, DELETED
Earlier in the week, I posted a rant about the BobQuits.com project that, in retrospect, I regret. A bit. In re-reading that web site, I think I misread a few things, and possibly got the wrong impression about a few other things. My intention was not to denigrate sincere and nonjundgmental efforts to help smokers quit, so -- in the spirit of believing the sponsors are indeed sincere, nonjudgmental, and realistic about quitting --I think it's best to delete my post and wish 'Bob' my best.

(Damn. And I really wanted to end the week with humor. Maybe I'll have an inspiration in the next 75 minutes...)

MY NEW ZIMBABWEAN FRIEND WRITES
You may be surprise to receive this Email from me since you do not know me personally. However, I would like to introduce myself. I am Jack Fish Junior, the son of Doctor. Simon Fish. Who was murdered few months ago in Zimbabwe, as a result of land dispute? Before the death of my father (Dr. Fish)he had taken me to Amsterdam and deposit the sum of Fifteen Million United States dollars... You know how the rest of the spiel goes.

What I'd like to know is: if the father's name was Simon, how did Jack become a 'Junior'?

Whatever. I can ask him in person after I fly to Amsterdam for our one-on-one meeting to seal our deal.

"MR. HASSELHOFF, TEAR DOWN THIS WALL!"
(Via Gawker)

THE WAY MY MIND WORKS, VOLUME 46
Someone should have really thought to give Spalding Gray GPS for Christmas.

AT WORDS POETIC I’M SO PATHETIC…
or, WHAT COLE PORTER WOULD HAVE WRITTEN IF HE WAS ALIVE TODAY AND A GAY BLOGGER IN MANHATTAN AND LINKING LIKE CRAZY ONE WEDNESDAY NIGHT JUST BECAUSE.

OH, AND IF COLE HAD A LOT LESS TALENT.

Guy #1:
You’re the top,
You’re an Appletini;
You’re the top,
You’re a Howard Deanie;
You’re a go-go boy
Who’s a so-so toy at Splash;
You’re a Missed Connection,
Bob Dole’s erection,
You’re Anil Dash!
You’re divine,
You’re the staff of Gawker;
You’re the line
Between ‘fan’ and ‘stalker’;
I’m diptheria
At Siberia,
I’m pop!
But, if baby,
I’m the bottom
You’re the top!

Guy #2:
No, you’re the top,
You are Paris Hilton;
You’re the top,
You’re… um… Charlene Tilton?
You’re news I don’t miss,
Thanks to Gothamist,
And Jen;
You’re the goddess Isis,
You’re Marie’s Crisis,
You’re Ambien!
Thou art swell,
You're the "Bridge… Down Under,”
You’re Michele,
Blogging A Small Wonder;
I’m a blogger who
Blogs through Blogger, who
Can’t stop,
But, if baby,
I’m the bottom,
You’re the top!

Guy #1:
No, you’re the top (goddamit!),
You are Aaron Bailey;
You’re the top,
You read Kottke daily;
You’re the clever pen
Wielded now and then
By Lance;
You’re a third-floor walk-up,
A blog they talk up,
You’re true romance!
You’re a nose --
No, you’re rhinoplasty;
You’re the prose,
Of the great D-NASTY;
I am nothing more
Than a cheap link-whore,
Who's GOP!
But if, baby,
I’m the bottom,
You’re the top!

Guy #2:
No, I said that
You’re the top,
You know frequent fliers;
You’re the top,
Like Elizabeth Spiers;
(Doesn’t rhyme with Spears,
Britney: have no fears,
You’re safe);
You’re Posh Happy Hour,
Giff Miller’s power,
You’re Calvin's waif!
You set the time,
And you never grovel;
You’re sublime
As a Rob Byrnes novel;
I’m a worthless bloke, or
A Bloomberg smoker,
A prop;
But if, baby,
I’m the bottom,
You’re the top!

Later that night, Guy #1 and Guy #2 finally realize that they have no option but to indulge in a night of mutually unsatisfying frottage, and the next morning decide to try to remain friends. That experiment lasts seventeen hours. Now they nod politely when they run into each other, then talk behind each other's back.

This post brought to you with apologies to the two bloggers to whom I didn’t link. And with further apologies to Cole Porter’s Ghost.

Starting tomorrow: no more caffeine or wine, or combinations thereof.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

BRINGING NEW MEANING TO THE TERM 'PITCHERS AND CATCHERS'
I'm Not Gay, Baseball's Porno Star Pitcher Says

(Did our favorite Gay Republican Sports Fan know this?)

NUMBER THREE REVEALED!
They die in threes.

First went Ann Miller.

Then Captain Kangaroo.

Then... no, sorry, Helmut Newton didn't count.

And now... Number Three.

TWO WORDS NEVER BEFORE FOUND TOGETHER IN THE SAME PHRASE: "BYRNES" and "PHILOSOPHER"
In case you ever wondered, according to the Ethical Philosophy Selector my personal philosophy for ethical living seems to match the following:

1. Aristotle (100%)
2. Aquinas (93%)
3. Spinoza (86%)
4. Epicureans (83%)
5. John Stuart Mill (80%)
6. Stoics (74%)
7. Jeremy Bentham (74%)
8. Kant (72%)
9. Ayn Rand (63%)
10. Jean-Paul Sartre (61%)
11. Nietzsche (56%)
12. St. Augustine (50%)
13. David Hume (49%)
14. Cynics (34%)
15. Nel Noddings (34%)
16. Ockham (34%)
17. Plato (32%)
18. Thomas Hobbes (27%)
19. Prescriptivism (24%)

I think I'm going to create my own ethical philosophy: Byrnesism. Will you follow me?
(Quiz via BoiFromTroy)

WE HAVE OSCAR NOMINATIONS TO BE JUDGMENTAL ABOUT!
As you undoubtedly know -- being the smart person you are, what with reading TRL and all -- the Academy of Motion Picture Popularity Arts and Sciences announced the Oscar nominations this morning. With virtually no time to think about it, here are my predictions:

Best Picture Nominees:
"The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King," "Lost in Translation," "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World," "Mystic River," "Seabiscuit."

I saw "Mystic River" and thought it was over-rated. I didn't see any of the other movies. However, I confidently predict that it's the Year of Asia in American Cinema, which means that "Lost in Translation" will win, because it's set in Japan.

Best Actor Nominees:
Johnny Depp, "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl"; Ben Kingsley, "House of Sand and Fog"; Jude Law, "Cold Mountain"; Bill Murray, "Lost in Translation"; Sean Penn, "Mystic River."

Sean Penn: "Mystic River": see above. Since that was the only movie in this category that I saw, based on my prediction that it's the Year of Asia in American Cinema, Bill Murray should have a tangential edge for being nominated for a movie set in Japan. But remember that Ben Kingsley was once "Gandhi," and plays an Iranian in "House of Sand and Fog." Therefore, this category is too close to call.

Best Actress Nominees:
Keisha Castle-Hughes, "Whale Rider"; Diane Keaton, "Something's Gotta Give"; Samantha Morton, "In America"; Charlize Theron, "Monster"; Naomi Watts, "21 Grams."

Charlize Theron was awesome. I didn't see anyone else. Winner: Theron.

Best Supporting Actor Nominees:
Alec Baldwin, "The Cooler"; Benicio Del Toro, "21 Grams"; Djimon Hounsou, "In America"; Tim Robbins, "Mystic River"; Ken Watanabe, "The Last Samurai."

Tim Robbins: "Mystic River": see above. I didn't see anyone else. Winner: Ken Watanabe.

Best Supporting Actress Nominees:
Shohreh Aghdashloo, "House of Sand and Fog"; Patricia Clarkson, "Pieces of April"; Marcia Gay Harden, "Mystic River"; Holly Hunter, "thirteen"; Renee Zellweger, "Cold Mountain."

Marcia Gay Harden: "Mystic River": see above. Is this Aghdashloo chick Asian? Never mind: in this category, Renee pulls an upset, because everyone still loves her performance as Roxie Hart in "Chicago."

Best Director Nominees:
Fernando Meirelles, "City of God"; Peter Jackson, "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King"; Sofia Coppola, "Lost in Translation"; Peter Weir, "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World"; Clint Eastwood, "Mystic River."

Clint Eastwood: "Mys---".. ah, that's getting boring. Sofia Coppola takes the Oscar here, not only because it's the Year of Asia in American Cinema, but because the Academy also wants to encourage her to stay behind the camera.

Best Foreign Film Nominees:
"The Barbarian Invasions," Canada; "Zelary," Czech Republic; "The Twilight Samurai," Japan; "Twin Sisters," The Netherlands; "Evil," Sweden.

Ironically, if it's the Year of Asia in American Cinema, the Asian film will have a disadvantage in the Best Foreign Film category. Plus, everyone is going to confuse it with that godawful Tom Cruise movie, which I didn't see. That's why I predict that "Evil" will win. Because who doesn't like a cryptic, slow-moving Swedish film?

Best Adapted Screenplay Nominees:
Robert Pulcini & Shari Springer Berman, "American Splendor"; Braulio Mantovani, "City of God"; Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens & Peter Jackson, "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King"; Brian Helgeland, "Mystic River"; Gary Ross, "Seabiscuit."

Prediction: "Mystic River" loses, and it's a four-way tie for the Award.

Best Original Screenplay Nominees:
Denys Arcand, "The Barbarian Invasions"; Steven Knight, "Dirty Pretty Things"; Andrew Stanton, Bob Peterson and David Reynolds, "Finding Nemo"; Jim Sheridan & Naomi Sheridan & Kirsten Sheridan, "In America"; Sofia Coppola, "Lost in Translation."

Having already been rewarded with a treat to stay behind the camera, Sofia Coppola will not win this category, 'cause the Academy is already growing concerned that she's starting to think she's all that. Even though it's the Year of Asia in American Cinema. Instead, the winner will be Steven Knight for "Dirty Pretty Things," a touching movie that manages to mix the plight of illegal immigrants with a tawdry organ-harvesting subplot. Oh yes -- and one of the characters is Turkish, and Turkey is in Asia. Yay. Plus, I actually saw "Dirty Pretty Things."

Best Animated feature Film Nominees:
"Brother Bear"; "Finding Nemo"; "The Triplets of Belleville."

"Brother Bear"? What the hell was that? No one wins in this category.

Best Original Score Nominees:
"Big Fish," Danny Elfman; "Cold Mountain," Gabriel Yared; "Finding Nemo," Thomas Newman; "House of Sand and Fog," James Horner; "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King," Howard Shore.

I saw "Big Fish," and this was, like, its only nomination (Albert Finney was robbed!), so it will win.

Best Original Song Nominees:
"Into the West" from "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King," Fran Walsh, Howard Shore and Annie Lennox; "A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow" from "A Mighty Wind," Michael McKean and Annette O'Toole; "Scarlet Tide" from "Cold Mountain," T Bone Burnett and Elvis Costello; "The Triplets of Belleville" from "The Triplets of Belleville," Benoit Charest and Sylvain Chomet; "You Will Be My Ain True Love" from "Cold Mountain," Sting.

I don't know these songs. (Of course, I also don't know "Hey Ya!", so take that for what it's worth.) But I'm intrigued by a T Bone Burnett/Elvis Costello collaberation, so I think they'll take the Oscar.

Best Documentary Feature Nominees:
"Balseros," "Capturing the Friedmans," "The Fog of War," "My Architect," "The Weather Underground."

Let's see. "The Fog of War" was about Robert McNamara, who engineered a war in -- where? that's right -- Asia. But it would be unseemly to honor a documentary about him in the Year of Asia in American Cinema, so I'm betting that the statuette will go to a documentary set in that other exotic locale, Long Island. Winner: "Capturing the Friedmans."

Best Documentary (Short Subject) Nominees:
"Asylum," "Chernobyl Heart," "Ferry Tales."

Honestly. Why do they even bother?

Honorary Academy Award:
Blake Edwards.

I predict that Blake Edwards will win.

Tune in next month to see how accurate my predictions were.

RETURN OF ME
So, in case you haven't been listening to the national news and are therefore in the dark, I spent the weekend in DC visiting the boyfriend. It was all good... even all that snow we had to plow through at 5:30 this morning on our way to the train station, so that I could make it to work by 10:00.

I'm playing catch-up with the weekend right now, so I really can't be bothered with being too informative or clever. [Insert your nasty-yet-obvious comeback here.] But let me leave you to ponder this until I have some free time:

Ewwwwww

IN WHICH I CHANNEL KIM CARNES
Based on a true story. Plus... why not?

I'm sitting in the bar,
I act like I don't care,
No need to analyze,
I've got Graydon Carter Hair.

I'll lay the Oscars on you,
Like I'm "Vanity Fair,"
Before it grows upon you:
I've got Graydon Carter Hair.

And I'll please you,
and appease you,
Then behind your back I'll tease you;
I'll betray you,
And I hope you know that
I will never pay you;
All the boys,
think there's no there there,
But I've got Graydon Carter Hair.

[Lather, rinse, repeat]

6 TRAIN LOVING
East 14th Street. 8:30 PM.

Hello, very gay-looking Jewish guy dressed all in black. In a way, I think you're sort of cute. But you also look a bit nebbishy, and my personality really doesn't mix well with nebbishy. I can give you references, if you want proof. Sorry.

Hello, very, very gay-looking Asian guy who makes Alec Mapa look butch. You look sort of cute, too. But for some reason, you aren't making Glancing Subway Eye-Contact (TM). Don't you read Craigslist?

Hello, uptight Middle-aged woman reading the New Yorker. I am not trying to read the cartoons over your shoulder, no matter what it looks like. So stop sniffing at me.

Hello, scary-looking Puerto Rican guy with the bulging eyes. Pardon me while I break eye contact.

Hello, scared-looking WASP woman clutching her handbag. You so look like a New Yorker, so why does the subway frighten you like this.

East 33rd Street, 8:37 PM:

Hello again, scary-looking Puerto Rican guy with the bulging eyes. No eye contact, okay?

Hello again, New Yorker woman. Stop sniffing. I know I smell mountain-fresh, and you're starting to weird me out.

Hello again, very gay-looking Jewish guy. Maybe nebbishy isn't the worst thing in the world...

East 59th Street, 8:43 PM

Goodnight, Alec Mapa. Enjoy your ride home to Queens on the N Train.

Scary-looking Puerto Rican guy with the bulging eyes: I'll make you a mental deal. You stop staring at me like you're Manson and I'm some random Tate or LaBianca, and I'll offer you either New Yorker Woman or Very Gay-Looking Jewish Guy as a sacrifice the minute we arrive at 77th Street. 'kay?

Oh, and New Yorker Woman? If you sniff at me one more fucking time I will become scarier than Scary-Looking Puerto Rican Guy with the Bulging Eyes. I will disembowel you with the pen I stole from work and wrap your intestines around the pole in the center of the car, which is now unused since Alec Mapa left for Queens. Don't push it lady!

Oh, and hello, quartet of men from Southeast Asia. Thank you for joining us and standing a bit too close to Scary-Looking Puerto Rican Guy with the Bulging Eyes. You make a nice buffer.

East 77th Street, 8:50 PM

Thank you all for a lovely ride home.

And what did you think of me?

REASON #372 TO BURN THE BABY PICTURES
Ashton Kutcher -- who single-handedly guided John Edwards to his seond-place finish in Iowa on Monday -- has had some of his baby pictures maliciously Interneticized. Check'em out, and don't forget to read the delightfully vicious comments. (My favorite: "Guess we can tell who sucked down most of Mrs. Kutcher's placenta." Heh.)
(Via Gawker)

QUOTES FROM A BAR
Michael: So, on ESPN2 tonight, Kentucky is playing Tennesse.

Me: That sounds like one big family reuinion.

(I'll be here all week, folks. Don't forget to tip your server and thanks for the love.)

HOLLYWOOD UPDATE: SEQUEL CANCELLED
This story effectively ends the dreams of anyone who had hoped for a sequel to Big Fish.

D-NASTY: YOUR SOURCE FOR CAMPAIGN COVERAGE

D-NASTY Obtains An Advance Copy of The Speech That Howard Dean Will Deliver After Losing The New Hampshire Primary

(Go to the January 20 entry. You'll thank me later.)

A BRIEF BIOGRAPHY OF FAMOUS AUTHOR ROB BYRNES
It occurs to me that a number of my readers (maybe as many as three or four) must stumble upon this site and wonder, "Who is this Famous Author? What makes him tick? What traumatic events possibly occurred in his life that led to... this?

Thank you for your interest. Let me take this opportunity to give you a very brief glimpse into the seminal -- heh... I used a word with roots in 'semen' -- moments of my life, to date.

The first thing you should know is that I was born on the day Tris Speaker died. The fact that Speaker played a shallow centerfield is, I'm sure, the reason why I grew up to be a shallow centrist. It just makes sense. Karma, and reincarnation, and all that, y'know?

My childhood was spent in Upstate New York, where I grew into a strapping young man. But life on the farm was hard, and deep inside of me I knew that an artist was struggling to get out.

I moved to the Big City on the morning of my eighteenth birthday, and I never looked back. Sometimes you just know that you've made the right decision, no matter what potential adversities await, and this was one of those sometimeses.

But, yes, there were adversities. In the quarter century since I left home with nothing but a few dollars and a dream, I have overcome a series of disasters. For example, and hard as it is to believe, I have never won the lottery. I also suffered the indignity of looking on helplessly as a book by my arch-rival (he knows what he did) was reviewed in the New York Times before one of my books was. Revenge is sweet, though: Cumming will never be able to use any of that review on a book jacket. Haha! As for me, my time will come.

And the men! Twenty-five years of men. (Note, though, that just because I've now found love doesn't mean that you and you and you and especially you should sleep any more soundly.)

So yes, there have been defeats. There have been setbacks. But wouldn't you expect that the path to Famous Authordom would have a pitfall or two? Well, maybe you would have, but I didn't see them coming, and to this day vow to get even with everyone who has ever rejected me, spurned me, or kept me waiting just a bit too long when I was in a hurry.

Still, life is good, and I celebrate it.

And that's what The Rob Log is all about. This web site -- this blog, if you will -- is a celebration of a difficult life well-led. It is but one small way I can return a bit more joy to the drab world around me. And it is a forum in which I can grind my enemies' faces into the mud and gravel whenever I feel like it.

I hope you've come to know me and enjoy The Rob Log just a tiny bit better through this indulgent, confessional entry. It has been my pleasure to share.

BLOGGERS IN THE NEWS
From today's New York Post article on Douglas Faneuil, the "star witness" in the Martha Stewart insider-trading trial:

One of his best friends goes by the name of "Blaise K." and writes a cult sex blog whose racy write-ups often feature "My friend Doug."

A cult sex blog? Is that what Bazima has been writing?

Huh.

GOD BLESS HALOSCAN
Many of us have had a disruption in our commenting capabilities due to the unfortunate demise of BlogSpeak. Sorry about that demise, kids, but thanks for the free service!

Fortunately, the good people at HaloScan have rushed in to save the day. So now you can comment here to your heart's content.

In other news, I have a cold, so I'm moping around the apartment and whining like a baby. More later (or maybe not...)

TRL HAS A DEAL FOR THE BLOGGERS OUT THERE
(AND MAYBE A FEW OTHER LOYAL READERS)
A few copies of the uncorrected bound proof (i.e., they're just missing the last round of copy-editing, but most of the bugs have been worked out) of the soon-to-be classic novel of love and deception -- Trust Fund Boys -- are now in my possession. Yay team!

Here's the deal: if you want an advanced look at the novel that will be the talk of the Book World this summer -- and you get to me early (first come, first serve, and all of that) I can get a copy to you. All you have to do is send me a mailing address. Or you can arrange to meet me in a bar in Manhattan some night. (See how easy I am?)

Oh yeah -- one more thing. You have to promise to review it. Yes, I do prefer good reviews, but I believe in the First Amendment, so write what you feel is honest. I'm a grown-up. I can take it. With the caveat that you can't take shots at typos that will be edited out when the final manuscript is released; I'm giving you the same edition the reviewers will read, so behave accordingly. (Full confession: there is one major fuck-up at the end that I missed, and I will confess all in time. For now, let's just say that -- as a gay man -- I am embarrassed about my mistake, and will gladly confess all if you discover my error.)

C'mon, boys and girls: this is the real deal! This is, to the best of my knowledge, the first novel that mentions Gawker. This novel may (or may not) fictionalize a quasi-well-known social columnist of my acquaintance. This novel may (or may not) parody a certain 'gentlemen's bar' of my acquaintance. This novel builds on that famous New York magazine "Trophy Boys" cover. This novel even involves Porn On The Internet!

So don't be shy, kids. Remember: first come, first served.

Leave a comment (although they don't seem to be working lately) or E-Mail me.

Happy Reading!

DON'T BLAME ME, I VOTED FOR VERMIN SUPREME
In anticipation of tonight's election returns from the DC Democratic primary, the Associated Press has a test page out there. You know many of the names -- Dean, Sharpton, LaRouche... -- but there are a few candidates who have clearly not been given adequate coverage by the media.

So before you feel bad for poor Dennis Kucinich, shed a tear for the neglected and doomed candidacies of Jeanne Chebib, Lucian Wojciechowski, and Vermin Supreme.

Vermin Supreme? Yes, Vermin Supreme.

TAKING THAT 'RED STATE/BLUE STATE' THING A BIT TOO SERIOUSLY
Via Drudge:

"The Washington Post reports the Bush administration is expected to order as soon as next month the first step in setting up databases on all air passengers, to be used to color-code each air traveler according to his or her potential threat level."

Hey, I know what you're thinking. But you know what? Where you see an imbecilic effort by the United States government to turn people into Crayola crayons (dibs on Burnt Umber, by the way), I see an entrepreneurial opportunity.

I am gonna be so rich when this is published:

BABY, IT'S COLD INSIDE
Damn! What temperature is it in this apartment? 31 degrees?

My super usually keeps the building at a comfortable 315 degrees all year, so what's the problem here? Has he forgotten that one of his tenants is a Famous Author, and Famous Authors cannot waste the day playing an endless marathon of Spider Solitaire spend the day working on their manuscripts if their fingers are frozen together.

I hate winter. Would someone out there find me a job in Puerto Rico, please?

EVERYONE SCREAM ALONG WITH ME
The clue for 40-across in today's New York Times crossword puzzle:

40. In modern lingo, an urban male who devotes much time to his appearance and lifestyle.

It is the word that won't go away. It is.

MORE FUN THAN TERRORISM SHOULD BE



(Collect all five here)

(Via Command Post, via A Small Victory)

STUNT CASTING MEETS STUNT TITLING
Gennifer Flowers will be joining the cast of Boobs! The Musical.

Who says that theater is a dying art form? Get thee to TKTS now.

AND IT'S SO OFF THE AIR IN A FEW MONTHS
Did Friends push language forward?

By the way: yes, I do know someone from off the beaten path who would say, "Well, that's right good."
(Via Fark)

I'M READY FOR MY CLOSE-UP...

What Classic Movie Are You?

(Via A Small Victory, which in turn led me to this:)

What Famous Leader Are You?

Once again, I'm ready for my close-up...

SHAMELESSNESS, THY NAME IS ELECIA BATTLE
Elecia Battle has come clean and confessed that she lied about purchasing - and subsequently losing - that $162 million lottery ticket. Through tears, of course. The AP reports:

Battle apologized to her husband, her lawyer and Jemison, saying she wanted to use the money to help her family and recently laid-off Cleveland police officers.

Ah yes. Of course. Elecia Battle wanted to win the lottery to help laid-off police officers.

As a 'please don't arrest me' strategy, that makes sense. Unfortunately the AP story continues: Police Lt. Kevin Nietert said Thursday he expected Battle to be charged with filing a false police report, a misdemeanor punishable by 30 days to six months in jail.

If I was Elecia, I think I'd stop gambling.

A FEW RANDOM SHOTS TO END THE AFTERNOON
In no particular order, here are some random things that either amused me or confused me at some point in recent months... well, okay, mostly this afternoon:

From the Department of "Why not? He was with The Police, wasn't he?": "Sting uncovers network involving illegal bear parts, ginseng" [Sort of sounds like the synopsis from a bad mid-season replacement series, doesn't it?]

My most recent African correspondent writes: "After going through some old file in the records I discovered that if I do not remit this money out urgently it would be forfeited for nothing. The owner of this account is Dr.Phillip Morris..." My Nigerian friend doesn't say it in so many words, but I'm betting that the good doctor died of lung cancer.

An excellent set of map detailing where the money is coming from in the presidential race.
(Via Kottke, and bookmarked on my computer a long, long time ago until I decided to share it with you)

HEH. WHAT TREACHER SAID
A Conversation with the Cleveland Police Who Thought Elecia Battle, the Woman Who Claimed She Lost That $162 Million Lottery Ticket, Had a "Credible Story"

"MY NAME IS TIMOTHY D., AND I'M A CABLE JUNKIE"
It's only January 7, but already we know the identity of 2004's Biggest Idiot.
(Via Drudge)

I SUPPOSE...BUT I DOUBT IT
I suppose Elicia Battle could be telling the truth... but I doubt it.

I suppose Howard Dean knows his Bible and isn't just cynically pandering... but I doubt it.

I suppose an accused child molester who has been elected judge has the right to be sworn into office in secrecy so that he can take office without all those pesky media folks highlighting his criminal involvement with a molested ten-year-old... but I doubt it.

I suppose that they meant it was true love... but I doubt it.

I suppose that George Bush thinks he's creating an inclusive Republican Party... but I doubt it.

I suppose I should care more about all of the above, but right now... I doubt it.

CD BABY LOVES ME, BUT THEY WON'T PUT OUT
I received the following e-mail (highly edited by me) this afternoon:

Robert -
Thanks for your order with CD Baby!
Your CDs have been gently taken from our CD Baby shelves with sterilized contamination-free gloves and placed onto a satin pillow...
A team of 50 employees inspected your CDs and polished them to make sure they were in the best possible condition before mailing...
Our packing specialist from Japan lit a candle and a hush fell over the crowd as he put your CDs into the finest gold-lined box that money can buy...
We all had a wonderful celebration afterwards and the whole party marched down the street to the post office where the entire town of Portland waved 'Bon Voyage!' to your package, on its way to you, in our private CD Baby jet on this day, Monday, January 5th...
Your picture is on our wall as "Customer of the Year". We're all exhausted but can't wait for you to come back to CDBABY.COM!!

--Derek Sivers, president, CD Baby
the little CD store with the best new independent music

That's sweet. Unfortunately, it's THE SAME FUCKING E-MAIL I GOT FROM DEREK SIVERS ON DECEMBER 24!!

Listen, Sivers, give me my goddam Michael Holland CD or I'll rip your face off! AND I WANT IT NOW!

Okay... okay... I feel a little bit better...

HOMETOWN NEWS
Okay, okay, I don't get back to the land of my birth - Rochester, New York - nearly enough. And when I do, I usually dash away a few short days later. (Yes, as a matter of fact I am the Worst Son Ever.)

But credit where credit is due: this small city has a population that is largely accepting of its gay and lesbian population. Rochester was the first locale in New York State to elect an openly gay official - City Councilman Tim Mains, in 1985 - and just added a second gay councilman, Bill Pritchard, to the nine-member body. [Disclosure: although we've fallen out of touch since I moved to Manhattan, I once knew both Tim and Bill well.]

Now 365Gay.com, echoing an earlier story in the Rochester Democrat & Chronicle, reports that Tim Mains and City Clerk Carloee Conklin [know her, too] are looking at ways to issue gay marriage licenses. As Carolee says, “I want to know if I can legally give a marriage license or not. If I could, I certainly would.”

That would certainly save me a trip to Massachusetts or Ontario, and I am all for anything that saves me travel time. Now I just have to see if William Weld will perform the ceremony. (We are both retired politicians and authors after all.)

BRITNEY'S BIG FAT FREAK WEDDING
I almost hate to weigh in, because this is already so overblogged that its fifteen minutes are zipping past at a blinding rate comparable to, well, fifteen nonmetaphorical minutes. Think "Chicken of the Sea"! Think "Paris Hilton Sex Tape"! Think "Gawker Stalker"!

But just for the record, the fact that Britney married a guy named Jason Alexander has provided some very creative people some very juicy fodder. For instance:

CityCynic has the marriage license application.
(Via Gothamist)

Low Culture has the wedding photo.

UPDATE: Bunsen has an IM session with Britney Spears's Downward Career Trajectory ("fred durst wont even lie about u this year")

As for me, I'll only note that Britney is fortunate that there were no invitations to mail out.

Okay, I'll note one other thing. Actually, I'll steal Andrew Sullivan's words instead, 'cause I'm running short on time:

We live a world in which Britney Spears just engaged in something "sacred" (in the president's words), where instant and joke hetero marriages and divorces are a subject of titillation, and where a decades-long monogamous lesbian marriage is a threat to civilization as we know it. Please. Can we have a smidgen of consistency here?

Amen.