Thursday, March 31, 2005

From the so-valuable-I'd-rather-go-without-oxygen comes a list of essential tips for picking up men on the streets. Read it and learn!
1. Go to a place where you're likely to find other gay men.
2. Start walking.
Come on, readers, this is easy! You aren't even forced to chew gum at the same time. Well... maybe when you get to the Intermediate Level, but not in Cruising 101.
3. When an attractive guy passes by you, attempt to make eye contact.
4. If you make eye contact, don't stop. Walk three more steps.
5. Turn and look over your shoulder. If he's interested, he'll do the same.
6. Face forward a walk three more steps.
Remember: three -- and only three -- steps. Don't be one of those four-step losers. (And don't get me started on the twelve steps. 'kay?)
7. Turn and look again. If he's looking at you too -- bingo!
Unless he's looking at you because he's concerned that some random loser -- meaning you -- is looking at him. But don't let that deter you! Instead, proceed to Step 8:
8. Go up and introduce yourself.
And make sure he knows that you only took three steps before pivoting.
9. Repeat as necessary.
Even though Step 9 is sort of buried at the end of all these complicated instructions, this is actually the most important tip. Because you'll certainly have to approach a lot of men before one will talk to you after watching you do your Rain Man act as you count off your paces...
10. This technique can also be used in shopping malls, airports, or anywhere there are large numbers of people and room to walk
Yes yes yes! All too often, gay men think they can only cruise other gay men on specially-designated sidewalks. That's why I'm grateful to for reminding its readers that you can walk and pivot almost everywhere!

By the way, if you follow these instructions very carefully and still can't meet a man, there's always the old 'club him over the head and drag him home, then duct tape him to the bedposts and have your way with him' method. Just sayin'...

There seems to be a theme to the news this morning. For the sake of argument, let's call it 'potty humor.' Via Fark, of course.

How Not to Beat a Breathalyzer

How Not to Build a Home

How Not to Stage a Robbery

In other news, I don't remember going to New Haven, but this explains something that's been bothering me lately.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Fortune smiled on the lowly AP headline-writer who fell into this assignment.

And I wonder if the suspect ever took a holiday? Does his wife thinks he becomes her? Does he boast that the only things that are certain are him and taxes? So many questions...

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

From the Department of Everyone Taking Themselves Entirely Too Seriously comes the laff riot of the year!

It all started when the obnoxious Gay-In-Name-Only blogger GayPatriot [sic] took an obnoxious swipe at obnoxious uber-outer Mike Rogers, prompting Rogers to allegedly call GayPatriot's [sic] boss and threaten a boycott of whatever the boss produces. Or maybe not. It all sort of depends on who you believe.

In any event, in short order GayPatriot [sic] was out of the blogging business -- although not before denouncing potential violence to Rogers and John Aravosis -- leaving only GayPatriotWest [sic] to issue the 'no comments' and work the name brand. In the meantime, the bitchslaps and finger-pointing spread like wildfire across the Land O' Blogs, where some of the closest allies of gay rights -- such as National Review's The Corner (home of Derbyshire) and Little Green Footballs (which seems to be some sort of cultish Jeff Guckert fan club) -- weighed in, while yet another blog claimed to have been murderized by Rogers. And speaking of Rogers, he was suddenly spending weeks each day commenting on every blog that mentioned the controversy. Including Rich Tafel's, which makes me think that Mike Rogers is either obsessively thorough or just plain obsessive, because who reads Rich Tafel's blog?

So why am I telling you this? Well, first of all, because I think you should know. More importantly, though, have you seen the amount of comments this slap-fest has generated? The traffic is out of control, and I want a piece of it. Unfortunately, I'll be probably be neglected as usual. Alas... too many houses, not enough pox.

Instead I think I'll pop some popcorn and pull up a chair. They have not yet wrung all the fun out of this. I figure the battle still has a few more days of life in it.

Carry on, gentlemen.

UPDATE: This post was written 23 hours before Blogger decided to let me post it. Man, Blogger annoys me sometimes...

You don't have to be a nukular engineer to track me down at work -- hell, even his stalker found me -- but I try to go to great lengths to keep blogging (a home activity, and -- oh, yeah -- shut up!) and work compartmentalized.

But, because I totally heart my readers and don't want you to miss out on anything, I'm going to violate the rule this one and only time. Because if you're in the proximity of New York City the weekend of April 8-10, you don't want to miss this:

Inside DecArts 2005

A weekend of fun and information is available to you for a small, teeny, tiny, $10 contribution, which goes directly to charity. Plus you get to see me running around looking almost like a real professional. You should be there.

Friday, March 25, 2005


In case you ever wondered what sort of people I socialize with, I present you with a photograph of the Posh Porch Brigade... dedicated drinkers and smokers all. Clockwise, from left to right: Craig, aka 'C-Mac'; Mark, of A Certain View; Steven, aka 'Steven'; me, aka 'FARB'; and Piers, aka... no, there's no need for me to go there right now. Not pictured are Andre, 'cause somebody's got to shoot the picture; and Greg, who was probably buying us another round of drinks.

And I don't care what anyone says (Steven); I do not look like Bill Pullman. I prefer my friend Lynette's comparison of me to a taller and better-looking Tom Cruise. And before anyone decides to abuse my comments, let me remind you that commenting is a privilege.

And you really don't want me to go all Collateral on you, do you? Okay... so long as we understand each other.

Via Fark comes the logo for Michael Jackson's Neverland ranch the Arlington Pediatric Center.

I mean, really! What in hell's name were they thinking?

UPDATE: It looks like someone tipped them off. Fortunately, the Internets are full of people who live for things like this, so you can still find the logo here. You're welcome.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Deal with it.

You Are 60% Normal
(Really Normal)

Otherwise known as the normal amount of normal
You're like most people most of the time
But you've got those quirks that make you endearing
You're unique, yes... but not frighteningly so!

Your Seduction Style: The Charismatic
You're beyond seductive, you're downright magnetic!You life live and approach seduction on a grand scale.You have an inner self confidence and energy that most people lackIt's these talents that make you seem extraordinary - and you truly are!

There. Don't you feel better now that you know the real me?

(Quizzes via The Spikester)

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

The Associated Press headline-writer seems to be rushing this story along:

Fla. Investigate Deaths After Zoo Visits

If they're going to write headlines like this, I really think they should tack on 'spoiler alert' or something. Some of us like the natural course of events to unfold before the AP ruins the ending of the story.

In any event, if the children don't die, I'm sure the AP regrets the error.

I am not British.

I am not a communist.

I have written two novels.

In short, I am the perfect candidate to have my name grace a reading room in the city of El Segundo, California Public Library. *
Authors Agatha Christie and Jack London will not be honored by having their names on two new reading rooms at the El Segundo (Calif.) Public Library, thanks to the city council’s rejection of the library’s choices. At a March 15 meeting, council members objected to Agatha Christie because she was British and to native Californian Jack London because he was a socialist at one time.
Now to find a writer who will be satisfactory to the city council when they dedicate that second reading room. I'm thinking either Becky or TJ**, because I like the idea of a Kensington Publishing takeover of El Segundo.

* story courtesy of Jesus's General
** freshly-coined and almost certainly unwanted nickname courtesy of me

You can see the change of seasons on the happy faces of passersby. It's a bit warmer and sunset comes later. Outwear is lighter. The foliage is returning, and for the first time in months it's actually green. Birds and retirees are migrating back north.

And, of course, the homosexuals are preparing to blossom in the trees. Again.

It's my favorite time of year...

I don't know how it works in Oregon, but here on the East Coast we have to pay for text-messaging, so when someone texts you, it's generally important, especially if the message is something like 'I'm so over it all,' and you're already a bit concerned because that certain someone had his dirty laundry recently aired in his blog comments, and even though you think the controversy was manufactured for attention, you're still a bit concerned, so you call the certain someone back -- long-distance, of course, and on your dime, at that -- and he's all, "Blah blah blah just kidding," and you're all, "That wasn't funny, I was really concerned," and he's all "Blah blah blah it's only 3:00 PM and I'm already drunk," and so you hang up on him, and that's when you realize that you have the phone numbers of far too many bloggers stored in your cell phone, and all of them live out of town except him and him, both of whom you knew before they blogged and therefore don't really count as bloggers, and so you seriously consider deleting their numbers...

...and then as you're scrolling through your stored numbers, you realize that you've spelled BoiFromTroy's last name wrong -- his real last name, not 'Troy' -- and you try to correct that before remembering that you're just going to delete it anyway, but while you have your phone open and you're playing with the phone numbers your boyfriend calls, but because you were using the phone his call goes right to voice mail and you don't notice that by the time you finally decide not to delete those phone numbers and close the phone, because you're distracted by the realization that you're missing The Amazing Race, and you really want to watch it to root against Rob (not him and not him; the other Rob) and Ray (not him; the other Ray), although you're perplexed that you don't hate their female partners as much as you hate them and wish they were on the same team so you could consolidate your hatred, and in any event it doesn't matter because neither were eliminated, which pisses you off so much you're snippy when your boyfriend calls you back after the show...

...and then he's all, "Blah blah blah stop taking your frustrations out on me," and you're all, "I'm just pissed about Rob and Ray," and he's all, "Blah blah blah all you care about are bloggers and Amazing Race contestants, and if that's how you feel, I'm out of here," and you're all, "Fine, bitch!" and you hang up the phone, and then you realize that maybe you overreacted so you try to call him back but he's already blocked your number, so you decide to have a drink and calm down, but when you look in the refrigerator you see that your roommate has drank almost all the wine, leaving just a tiny little bit in the bottom of the bottle, and that pisses you off all over again because you know he only left that little drop of wine to avoid having to rinse out the bottle and put it in the recycling bin, and also so he has plausible deniability when you confront him about drinking all the wine so he can say, "Blah blah blah I left some wine in the bottle," and you decide that when your lease is up you're going to get a studio and live alone, and while you're thinking of that your roommate comes home -- drunk, of course -- and when you confront him about the wine he's all, "Blah blah blah I left some wine in the bottle," and you're all, "I want you out by the end of the month," even though you can't afford a two-bedroom apartment on your salary...

...and then you try to go to sleep, but you can't because your roommate is stomping around the living room and banging pots and pans and slamming cupboard doors, and you probably wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, because you're sort of upset about the fight with your boyfriend as well as the fact that Rob and Ray are still in The Amazing Race, and also that bogus text-message that started the chain of events, so you toss and turn for hours until it's 3:30 AM and you think that maybe a shot of NyQuil will help you sleep, so you take a shot of NyQuil and then decide that three shots of NyQuil will help even more, and the next thing you know it's 8:45 AM and you've overslept your alarm by three hours and there's no way you're going to be at work on time, because 'on time' means 8:00 AM, so you jump in the shower and while you're lathering up you remember you have -- er, had -- a meeting scheduled with your boss at 8:30 AM, so you panic and start to rush, but then you slip in the shower and fall on your ass, and you think you might have broken something...

...and after you hobble out of the shower and dry off and cut yourself shaving and get dressed -- slowly and painfully, because something under or near your ass is probably broken -- and bleed a bit on your collar from your shaving accident, you limp out of the apartment building and decide you'd better take a cab, because you're already 50 minutes late for your meeting with your boss, and finally something good happens because an empty cab cruises by at that exact moment, so you jump in and say, "53rd and Third," and he's all, "Blah blah blah York or the Drive?" and you're all, "I don't care, you're the trained professional, go whichever way is fastest," and he's all, "Blah blah blah American attitude," and you're all, "Just get me to work," and so he takes you to work, even though he's pissed, but as you're getting out of the cab you realize you forgot your wallet back at your apartment, so you're all, "Um...", and he's all, "Blah blah blah theft of services, American idiot, I call a fatwa on you," and you're all, "What-ever"...

...and by then you're more than an hour late for your meeting with your boss, and he's all, "Blah blah blah if you think you'd be happier in another position..." and you're all, "I'm really sorry, but this guy texted me last night..." and then the cab driver bursts into the office screaming about being ripped off and, when you squirm to get away from his fists, pain shoots through your broken ass and you fall to the floor, and your boss is just standing there watching the crazed Pakistani cabbie pummel you while you cry in agony and he's all, "Blah blah blah two weeks severance and we won't fight you on Unemployment," and the cabbie's all, "Blah blah blah nine dollar-feefty," and then you hear a tone announcing an incoming text message and when you look it's a certain blogger texting you to apologize for sending you a drunk message the previous evening...

I'm not saying any of this happened. I'm saying that it could happen, unless people learn to use their phones a lot more carefully.

The End.

Monday, March 21, 2005


He was one of those unique individuals who make New York special. The city will miss him.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Just what you want to set the mood for a romantic evening: something that smells like it's been dead for 2000 years.

A South Dakota couple makes and markets candles they say smell like Jesus.

Oh. Never mind.

UPDATE: (Via Fark) Banana Story #2. One more and we have an Official Trend.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

From my referrers comes the obvious title for a great anthology:

"Nasty Lesbian Salad Tossing Tales"

Coming to bookstores Summer, 2005!

PS: Yes, I know the 'salad-tossing referrer' references are getting old. But they're still funny, so deal with it.

Earlier this afternoon, I received the following e-mail from Greg:
From: Greg [mailto:greg@greg']
Sent: Wednesday, March 16, 2005 1:18 PM
To:; 'Steven (E-mail)'; 'C-Mac (Exchange)'
Subject: Re: So...

Doesn't your blog need updating? Leave those of us who actually do work, alone.
Now, ordinarily Greg's terse dismissal of my e-mail to him ("Everyone is quiet. Entertain me!") would make me very sad. However, I consider myself to be the type of man who can make lemonade out of lemons -- come to think of it, anyone can do that, given some lemons, water and sugar, but whatever -- so I thought I'd take this opportunity to briefly update the blog and update you on a few things in my life. Here goes.

1. Someone de-linked me. I'm not going to tell you who it was, but apparently I wasn't quick enough to reciprocate the link. Is it wrong to think that's funny and more than a little needy on the other blogger's part? Ah well... saves me the trouble.

2. Hot Toddy has learned the price of fame: you attract a lot of morons into your orbit. That's what he gets for being an attention whore.

3. I spent the weekend visiting my boyfriend, although visiting my boyfriend required me to sit in on 12 hours of training for volunteers wanting to assist GLBT youth. I even endured role-playing. But the plus side (excluding, of course, the fact that I got to see my boyfriend) was that one of the volunteers-in-training had read The Night We Met, and is now setting me up to appear at a gay book club in DC. Volunteering, after all, is its own reward.

4. I got a very strange fan letter yesterday. If I respond, I will not be using my apartment as the return address.

5. Despite the fact that he was mean to me, and has continued his nastiness via e-mail throughout the afternoon, I still want to point out that yesterday was Greg's birthday. If you get the chance, pop over to his blog and wish him a Happy Big 5-2!

6. Bored now.

Friday, March 11, 2005

Miss me? I didn't think so.

But I know you've been dying for an update, so here goes:

1. Taking Control of My Life: In the past 8 days, I (a) got a haircut, and (b) ordered new checks. Still no progress on the driver's license and gym, but at least 50% of my to-do list has been checked off.

2. Death and Destruction: I no longer feel like killing someone. Mostly. In other news, my cold is almost gone and I've managed to get some sleep this week! Thank you, NyQuil!! And chardonnay!!

So now that I've given you almost nothing this week, I'm going to close by giving you... more nothing. I'm out of here in a few hours to venture to Washington, DC, where I will be celebrating my two-year anniversary with Bradykins on Monday. All together, now: "Awwwwwww!"

But there will be stories when I get back, so just think of TRL as... well, think of it as kind of like Desperate Housewives right now, with a long gap between episodes. And slightly more homosexuality. And slightly fewer murders. And... Okay, forget it. This blog is nothing like Desperate Housewives. Go back to whatever you were doing and we'll catch up next week.

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

I have a cold, work has gone crazy, it's snowing, for some reason I've become the only full-time employee in my office, I haven't slept more than four hours a night in the past week, people aren't cooperating with me, one of my work websites was hacked overnight, I'm broke and people keep finding more uses for the little money I have, my head hurts, I'm in a foul mood, and -- have I mentioned lately that I have a cold?

Now aren't you sorry you asked?

Ciao, kids. If I haven't committed homicide or suicide in the next day or two, I'll see you soon!

Friday, March 04, 2005

From my referrers.

You find John Derbyshire in the strangest places... (also see Wonkette for more on Derb and his dolly.

As we all know, I am Famous. It says so right at the top of this page, so it must be true. But somehow, the NNDB has missed that fact.

Forgive them. Beta, you know.

Could be worse. Could be:

* 'niche' famous;

* 'somewhat' famous;

* 'famous' famous, but really stupid and apparently best-known as a Mutant.

I'll let NNDB catch up with my Fame. Patience, friends and readers, patience.

I was about to give up on the third season of The Apprentice. Like Lost, it had gone off-track, and the nasty queen in me found it severely lacking in entertainment value.

Until last night, when Audrey lost it:
Chris, by no means did I come here for anybody to treat me or to talk to me as though I am a child! I, I am at where I am today because my parents both went to prison! I was left with nothing! My childhood was taken from me- everything was taken from me! I was living out of a car (begins crying). At 17 I had nothing! Nothing at all to my name! Nothing! I am where I'm at today because I have crawled and begged! As a child, girls hated me because I was beautiful! I wanted to scar my face because I was so beautiful! I wanted to be ugly so they wouldn't hate me! I have tried and tried and tried my entire life for people to just to accept me. And by no means is Craig going to sit in the boardroom, or are you going to sit in the boardroom, or John is going to say that I don't pull my weight. I do not fail!
It's a shame that after that tour de force, she got fired anyway. A damned shame. But I'm hooked again, so it's all good.

(Thanks to Gothamist for the transcript, 'cause I was too drunk last night to write down Audrey's metdown)

Thursday, March 03, 2005

Or so says Gawker:
Now we can finally make that Maureen Dowd psycho shrine wall (like in Rob Williams’ in One Hour Photo)! Too bad all these weird Catherine Zeta-Jones, John Kerry, and Jennifer Garner pics are ruining our dream of pure Dowdiness.
Huh. I thought that was Robin Williams. Rob, was that really you?

Bwahahahah! Take that, Talk-Show Boy! Yahoo knows which one of us is more popular, and it ain't you!

Related: Single Has Never Looked So Good

Truer words were never spoken.

* There's an adult bookstore down the block from my office. I have walked past it almost every morning for three years, but only this morning noticed that its canopy advertises 'Private Boothes.' I like that. I'm going to start referring to it as Ye Olde Porne Shoppe.

* Six months ago I made a personal vow to take back control of my life. I was letting too many things slide. With that in mind, last night I took stock of my life, and realized that I'm six weeks overdue for a haircut: my driver's license expired three months ago and I haven't renewed it; I'm down to three blank checks; and another month has passed in which I talked about returning to the gym but did nothing about it. Clearly, more attention must be paid to that whole 'self-control' thing.

* Lately, the thought of going home after work has been depressing. But I'm also getting bored going out for drinks after work... and no other activities appeal to me, either. Oh yeah... I haven't slept well for the past few months, either. Not that I'd whine about any of this or anything. I hope this is just a case of the winter doldrums, because I can wait this out for another few weeks, but not much longer. Can anyone say 'vacation'?

* Two weeks ago, I hosted a reception in my capacity as day-job boss. The photos just came back. Worst. Pictures. Ever. I look like a pale, overly-tired whale. With long, floppy hair. This all has to be fixed within a month, because in April I have an entire weekend of work-related public appearances, and when the moment comes that I take the stage to introduce Thom Filicia, I don't want him thinking I have to be made over... even though I do.

* A final observation: making lists of minor personal observations and gripes is a lot easier than actually writing a blog post. Just sayin'...

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

I might have an opening for an Administrative Assistant soon. I wonder if Bill would be interested...
NEW YORK (AP) _ A six-figure salary from Donald Trump didn't keep Bill Rancic, winner of the first season of "The Apprentice," from landing a job -- temporarily -- at Home Depot Inc. and Wendy's International Inc. in northern Virginia.

On Tuesday, Rancic helped customers in the paint department at the Home Depot store in Alexandria and worked the front counter and drive-thru window at Wendy's in Merrifield.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

I don't know what's stupider: throwing yourself off a roof or suing when you get injured. I mean, who would expect that to happen?

(Via Drudge)