Monday, April 30, 2007

Words almost fail me.
Filmmaker David Lynch will announce during a global webcast ( on Tuesday, May 1, at 12 noon (EDT), the David Lynch Foundation’s new plan to end school violence: Teach one million students around the world to meditate to transform schools from breeding grounds of stress and violence into centers of creativity and peace.

Meditation seminars will be taught to the students by one-eyed dwarves talking backwards as they use chainsaws to cut off the limbs of virgins accompanied by Julee Cruise singing atonal, haunting melodies.
Okay, maybe I added that second paragraph.

Or maybe not.

I haven't paid a lot of attention to the Washington Escort Service Scandal -- don't we go through one of these every three years? -- but I was skimming the news a few minutes ago and realized... I once knew the alleged madam's lawyer!

We weren't exactly BFF, but we were both involved in Rochester/Monroe County, NY politics at the same time, so our paths crossed. Of course, after he got his ass handed to him in the 1987 District Attorney race, I never thought of him again. Until now.

But let me assure you that he will not be my Attorney General.

Yes, I know my presidential campaign is very exciting. But you know what else is exciting?


Our first month's game is winding down now, but an all-new game for May starts at midnight tonight. So join me and some of your favorite bloggers (plus a bunch of people I'm not sure I know... 'Bea Arthur's Thong,' do I know you?) as we demonstrate our occasional knowledge and dexterity with a mouse, trash-talk in the "Shout Out" box, and otherwise spend a few minutes each day serving absolutely no practical purpose.

You'll have fun. And, in time, you'll also come to resent Joel, who must be cheating, although I haven't quite figured out how he's doing it.

Mostly, you learn the ropes by playing. But for some tips, read this. And I hope to see you in the May game.

After last week's announcement of my presidential candidacy, I have been overwhelmed by your response and faith. But let me clear up one point: I know I described muself as a Gay Blogger American, but mine will be a broad-based administration that looks just like our great nation. I promise you that we will not just come from Blogger, but also Wordpress, Typepad, and -- yes, even LiveJournal! We will be part of the most inclusive administration Washington has ever seen.

But, my friends, I have had to make some difficult decisions. In the interest of transparency, I am committed to filling the top positions in the Byrnes Administration well before the 2008 election, so that the American people know the caliber of bloggers I will be bringing to Washington.

Obviously, not everyone on my blogroll will be called upon to serve. And not just for reasons of incompetency. As president, I will be expected to make some hard choices, so let me start now.

I am now, of course, a resident of the great state of New Jersey, so my running mate should geographically balance my ticket. I also need a pit bull... someone who's not afraid to rip our opposition to shreds and shoot them in their faces show them to be the corrupt un-American scoundrels they almost certainly are. I have thought long and hard about this, and have decided that the next Vice President of the United States should be... Jeffrey Ricker, from the great state of Missouri.

The next most important position to fill is that of Secretary of State. I need a diplomat... an anti-Ricker, if you will. This is sort of tough, because most of the people on my blogroll are... well, let's face it, bitches. The closest thing I have to pleasant and smart over in that right-hand column will be the next Secretary of State: Becky Cochrane, from the great state of Texas. Plus, she can be responsible for our campaign buttons.

I think you will agree with me that my first two selections are uniquely qualified to lead this country... certainly every bit as qualified as I am.

Coming soon: my selections for Press Secretary, Treasury, Defense, and other major positions.


Earlier: "My Hat Is In the Ring"

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Like most Americans, I am unenthused by the choices I face in the 2008 presidential election. Hillary Clinton is too much of a lightning rod... John McCain is too crazy... Barack Obama is too inexperienced and HIS MIDDLE NAME IS HUSSEIN SO EVERYBODY PANIC!... Rudy Giuliani does not make for a very pretty woman, unless, you know, you're really drunk and it's 4 AM...

I was truly perplexed about this, until I had a revelation: why should we settle for one of them? Why not choose one of our own?

You know what I'm talking about, kids. It is time for the United States of America to elect it's first Blogger-American President.

And then I thought about this a little bit more, and had another revelation: why not me? I am certainly old enough (shut up), and I have experience in government, and if Nixon could get trashed in the White House, obviously there's no prohibition on that.

My fellow Americans, my truth is that I am a Gay Blogger American. And I am running for president.

Now, just so you don't think I'm running off half-cocked (heh, I said 'cock') on this, I want you to know that I've thought it through. And to ensure that I offer the American public a comprehensive and wide-reaching candidacy, over the next few days I will be announcing my future Cabinet and senior staff. The voters should know in advance what they will be getting when Famous President Rob Byrnes is leading them.

These men and women have been carefully selected from one of the most elite and prestigious groups in existence: my blogroll. Who will be my vice presidential running mate? My Secretary of State? Who will head Treasury? Or be my official spokesperson? Stay tuned.


Believe it or not, lately I have been trying really hard to look the other way when it comes to the blog we love to hate: Queerty. At a certain point, you've got to shrug and tell yourself that they're not very smart, they're painfully sophomoric, they are almost completely lacking in self-awareness, and -- most unforgivably -- they are never going to change. To keep harping on it is to give them some sort of validity... as if they even matter.

But then there are days like today when a fellow can't help himself.

From Queerty:
Didn't the evil Carradine family have a similar idea on General Hospital?
Okay, if you're going to try to be cutesy with a pop culture reference, you have an obligation to know what the fuck you're talking about and get it right. Can we get a consensus here?

Because it's just stupid to confuse General Hospital's evil Cassadine Family with the Carradine Family, which -- to the best of my knowledge -- has not yet attempted to build a weather machine.

And then -- sigh -- from the same entry:
Colby College professor James Fleming - surprisingly, no relation to James Bond creator, Ian Fleming - remarks...
It is also quite surprising that Professor James Fleming is not related to Art Fleming, Peggy Fleming, Renee Fleming, and Victor Fleming, and that he doesn't come from Fleming, Saskatchewan. Good call on that one, Queerty!

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Between the fantastic weather we've had for the past few days in New York and my Post-Traumatic Happiness Syndrome, I am in a great mood. So let's celebrate!

Uh... and please don't Fear the Embedded Clip. It is not "The Lonely Goatherd."

This time.

Dear Former Governor McGreevey:

I think you are under a mistaken assumption, and I want to help clarify things. I would have thought this was self-evident, but... obviously it isn't. Frankly, that explains a lot about the judgment you showed in Trenton, but that's another topic for another time.

When we call you 'The Gay American,' we don't use that term to praise your leadership and impact on gay issues. We don't use that term as a form of affection or to elevate your status in the community.

No, Jim. Here's why we call you 'The Gay American': derision and mockery.

That makes it really painful to read that you continue to refer to youself as a Gay American. Or, to be more precise, and to use your exact lettering, A GAY AMERICAN.

(PS: just a personal stylistic preference, but I think it would have been cool if you had used an exclamation point, too. Or maybe several.)

Just in case you still aren't clear on this, let me re-emphasize this by putting it in a simple equation:

"The Gay American" = Us Mocking You

If it helps, that equation is almost identical to this one:

"The Decider" = Us Mocking Bush

Now, I appreciate self-parody as much as the next person -- hell, that's sort of what this blog is all about -- but I really think you should aim for sobriety in something as serious as a court proceeding. You know, gray suits and a tie, not giggling or drawing with crayons, etc.

Oh, and just FYI, if you really feel compelled to label yourself, please be advised that The Committee to Mock People (Northeast Division) is about to launch your new nickname, so you might as well start using it:

"The Douchenozzle American"

Sorry, but The Gays don't want you to be affiliated with them anymore.


--Famous Author Rob Byrnes

Monday, April 23, 2007

Things like this always shake me up. It's so... arbitrary.

But life is arbitrary, isn't it? And unfair. Good for Halberstam that he made his mark, and may be rest in peace.

(Also...Y. A. Tittle is still alive? Shock upon shock upon shock tonight.)

...but my gut tells me that this is about to make us all long for the days when 'nappy-headed hos' was a term of affection.

Where is Sharpton when you need him?

From Newsday:
Arrested and charged with patronizing a prostitute were Robert Johnson, 48, of 301 Radio Ave. in Miller Place; Christopher Peters, 31, of 4 Fairlane Court in Selden; Umit Unsal, 26, of 41 Aster Ave. in Holtsville; Michael Spinelli, 33, of 14 Michael Ave. in Bellport; Thomas Smothers, 55, of 32 Vale Ave. in Riverhead...
No wonder Mom always liked Dick best.

[I am fully aware that no one born after 1960 has the slightest idea what any of this means, but you're smart kids. Give yourselves the gift of Wikipedia and Google and get in touch with your television and comedy history.]

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Sorry, everyone, but consider the last couple of entries a false alarm. It's going to take a lot of work, but maybe we can save this relationship after all. We certainly are going to try like hell.

Sorry to be the blogger who cried wolf -- I don't overreact as a matter of course -- but thanks for all your comments and e-mail. They meant a lot at exactly the moment I needed the support.

Now just forget I ever mentioned it, okay? Please? Thanks.

Saturday, April 21, 2007

I just wanted to shakeoff my hangover and poke my head up to apologize for last night's entry, which was self-indulgent even by my standards. Thanks for your many comments and e-mails, but -- really -- I'll be all right.

Yes, the situation sucks, but I regret blogging under the influence. Self-pity is so 1999.

Next week I'll be back with the usual TRL mix of news mocking, bad writing, Queerty hating, and, of course, scheming to get a link from Gawker. You know, the things that made this blog one of the top 100,000 Technorati-ranked sites! Until then, get off your computer and enjoy the sunshine!

Friday, April 20, 2007

I probably shouldn't Blog While Intoxicated -- especially because it takes so much time to touch the right keys and correct the mistakes -- but, because so many people are concerned that I was too cryptic in my last entry, I want to clarify things.

It seems I'm single again.

It was a great four years -- for me, at least -- and I'm not sure what else I should share here, except to assure everyone that I'm all right.


It's a rare thing to meet someone with whom you have a great rapport. It's rarer, still, when you make it work for years. You might hope and think it will last for decades, but... well... I guess it doesn't always work that way.

That's okay. It has to work for both people, right? And sometimes... it suddenly doesn't.

We're okay, if you care. We're still going to be living together -- we have no choice -- and I'm sure we'll figure out the details. The fact is that my boyfriend ex-boyfriend is a quality guy, and we'll work out the details over the next month or so.

And that is that.

I'm not going to say this will be easy. But it will all be all right.

Gonna cry a little now. Look over in the other direction, will you? Thanks.

UPDATE: Just to prove that life is funny, look at the answers I gave to this meme the other day. Specifically, answers #2 and #27. Of course, my answer to #20 should have been the tip-off...

Well, this week certainly ended on a down note. I may or may not choose to share details later -- probably not -- but let's just say it wasn't the Best Week Ever.

Okay, maybe it wasn't quite like getting blown up in Baghdad or gunned down in Blacksburg, or even having to spend a week in the hospital with a tube shoved down your nose with bloggers as your only visitors. It still sucked, though, and -- since this my blog -- I have the right to use it to be self-indulgent.

So we need to end the week on a happier note. Therefore, I give you:


Thursday, April 19, 2007

Via Becks:

I'm not feeling especially gay-marriage friendly tonight, but that button rocks.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Let me be very clear: I think term limits are anti-democratic and an insult to the collective intelligence of the voters.

HAHAHAHAHAHA! I crack myself up! Like the voters have collective intelligence...

Uh... ahem.

All right, obviously I also think most voters would vote for a shiny, sparkling, pretty trinket if they could figure out how to write it in on the ballot. Still, my point stands: term limits are fundamentally undemocratic, and I will never support them.

That having been said, I am having a very hard time remembering the last time an politician was forced to run for re-election at gunpoint. It was probably way back... uh... never?

Which is my way of telling New York State Senate Majority Leader Joseph Bruno -- who has served in office since the Beverwyck era -- that he should do the honorable thing, and lead by example. Because if eight years is plenty in Bill Drafting Land, then it should be plenty in real life.

FYI, That Doyle Boy -- you know the one; the kid your mother tells you not to hang out with -- has texted me with an update, for those of you who are sitting around wondering, 'I wonder how That Doyle Boy is doing?'

It looks like they're keeping him in the rubber room hospital for the rest of the week. There was a minor complication -- yeah, easy for me to say -- but hopefully he'll bounce right back.

And by the way, am I the only one imagining TunaGirl hanging around the hospital wearing a candy striper uniform? No, I didn't think so.

The patient also asks that, in lieu of flowers and cards, you send chardonnay, Swedish Fish, cash, and chocolate to his office. In care of me. Thank you in advance.

UPDATE: This Spotlight ain't Traveling anywhere!

Poor thing. Send him cash. And chardonnay.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Oh, what the hell. All the other kids are doing it, and I haven't used a meme for content in hours! But... one word? One thing I am not is the soul of brevity, but I'll give it a go.


1. Where is your cell phone? Kitchen.
2. Describe your boyfriend/girlfriend/S.O.? Perfect.
3. Your hair? Surviving.
4. Your mother? Sad.
5. Your father? Dominating.
6. Your favorite item? Books.
7. Your dream last night? Forgotten.
8. Your favorite drink? Coffee.
9. Your dream car? Cab.
10. The room you are in? Office.
11. Your ex? Friend.
12. Your fear? Failure.
13. What do you want to be in 10 years? Remembered.
14. Who did you hang out with last night? Sopranos.
15. What you’re not? Consistent.
16. The last thing you did? Crossword.
17. What are you wearing? Sweater.
18. Your favorite book? Many.
19. The last thing you ate? Omelet.
20. Your life? Surprising.
21. Your mood? Content.
22. Your friends? Entertaining.
23. What are you thinking about right now? Monday.
24. Your car? Borrowed.
25. What are you doing at the moment? Blogging.
26. Your summer? Fleeting.
27. Your relationship status? Solid.
28. What is on your TV? Simpsons.
29. When is the last time you laughed? Now.
30. Last time you cried? Past.
31. School? Life.

Sometimes, one word asks more questions than it answers, doesn't it?

Friday, April 13, 2007

From the AP:

N.J. Governor Breaks Leg, Ribs in Crash

Which sort of reminds one of this:
In a second incident, McGreevey, lying in bed recovering from a broken leg, masturbated in front of him, Cipel said.
I really hope that not every New Jersey Governor With a Broken Leg story plays out the same...

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

From the wires:

"I think that this has scarred me for life."
--Matee Ajavon, Rutgers Women's Basketball Team,
on the Don Imus Controversy

No, Ms. Ajavon. Don Imus hurt your feelings. He made you feel bad. He is a mummified idiot who probably deserves to be fired. But scarred you for life? I think not.

Or rather, I hope not. Life is too tough to let a stupid racist throw-away comment scar it. You're probably looking at another six or seven decades on this planet, and you'll encounter worse than being called (as part of a group, not as an individual) a 'nappy-headed ho' by a radio shock-jock. I can pretty much guarantee that.

In fairness to Ms. Ajavon, it's easy for a person -- especially a young person -- to get caught up in a circus of hyperbole like the one that is swirling around the Imus controversy. And if anyone deserves the right to be offended -- and isn't just posturing for maximum media exposure (I'm looking at you, 'Tawana' Sharpton and 'Hymietown' Jackson) -- it's Ms. Ajavon, her coach, and her nine teammates. Still, her comments are almost certainly a buy-in to the media outrage, not a reaction to Imus's comment.

Here's the thing, though: have we reached the point where every offensive comment is 'scarring'? The controversies seem to be coming faster and more furious lately; offense piled upon offense piled offense.

But 'seem to be' is the operative phrase here. While I confess that I have an untrained ear for these sort of things, I would submit that the actual controversial remarks aren't necessarily increasing in number, but our collective reactions to those remarks are going through the roof.

In short, are we becoming hyper-sensitive?

In The Gondoliers, W. S. Gilbert wrote the lyric: "When every one is somebody, then no one's anybody." I am starting to worry that by considering all offensiveness equally -- and 'scarringly' -- offensive, we dilute the impact of our protests and ultimately risk losing the ability to differentiate between genuine outrage and minor annoyance. When we treat the minor, relatively innocuous stuff -- Garrison Keillor, the Snickers commercial, Roseanne -- with the same outrage we treat important issues, we muddy the waters to the extent that all perspective is lost.

Maybe everyone needs to take a baby step back for a moment and consider proportionate response to the quotidian indignities pretty much all of us face. Which of those indignities are truly 'scarring.' and which should we blow off, or at least regard as worthy of a sharp response and nothing more. Are Roseanne's words worth several hundred blog comments over two days? Is Garrison Keillor really equivalent to Ann Coulter? Are Don Imus's asides life-altering, or merely obnoxious and generically racist?

I don't mean to be dismissive of anyone's reactions to these or other events, but 'finding outrage' seems to be a cottage industry these days, and personal umbrage seems to be the default response. I can't and won't quibble over what you feel; I only offer these words of caution as my two cents, because -- to borrow from Gilbert -- when every issue becomes an outrage, then no issue is truly outrageous.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Sick. Unhappy. Half the day in bed, the other half on the couch with Christopher Buckley.

Oh wait. That didn't come out right.

Anyway, my condition doesn't seem to be improving, but I hope to bring you some bloggy goodness on Wednesday. Even if I don't make it to the office.

Uh... not that I would blog from the office, of course.

PS: not that Christopher Buckley would really be on my couch, but -- if he was -- I would have kicked his ass to the curb a few hours ago when, on page 60 of Boomsday, I read "...and a beach condo in Rehobeth that she never used."

That is why we carefully proofread our manuscripts, Mr. Buckley. You might want to consult a map of Delaware before your second printing.

Monday, April 09, 2007

No, not because I'm famous Famous. And not because I'm 'very special' in the Queerty sort of way. I'm very special because I am apparently the first person friends and co-workers have ever met who's had a head cold!

In the past hour, four people have expressed concern that I either have or might have the flu. This just makes me think that they are ignorant dolts who don't deserve a serious answer. For the ignorant dolts among us: colds = common, hence the term 'the common cold.' The flu = serious, as in worldwide epidemics. After almost five decades, I think I know the difference, so stop asking if I'm sure. Because every time you ask, it makes me hate you just a little bit more.

People also keep talking to me. I want them to stop. I am not in the mood to deal with idle conversation. I want to be left alone, do my work, and cuddle up in the corner and rest get through the day.

I have stories from the weekend to tell, but I'm clearly not in the mood right now. Later, 'kay?

Friday, April 06, 2007

Q & A
Which sucks the most:

A. Queerty?
B. Verizon "High-Speed" Internet?
C. The suckiest suckhole of suck that sucks more than any sucky thing in the History of Suckiness?

The answer is (B). Because you don't have to pay for Queerty, nor do you absolutely have to utilize it. Unless, like me, you have a not-so-deeply-hidden masochistic side.

Verizon "High-Speed" Internet is to high-speed connection what the Pony Express is to e-mail, if the pony was lame. And fell down every 20 feet, And eventually died. In Kansas.

True, Queerty is a close second. But still...

Oh, and thanks in advance for the recommendations I know you'll be giving me, but the lame-and-about-to-die Internet service is a 'perk' of my apartment complex, so I'm going to tough it out.

Maybe I'll just blog from my Treo. That is actually less sucky than the suckiest suckhole of suck that sucks more than any sucky thing in the History of Suckiness.

Although it's still worse than Hitler.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

In the most recent edition of the Lambda Book Report (sorry; not available on-line), there is a review of When the Stars Come Out by Tom Eubanks, a writer-editor-agent. Let's just say that he wasn't in love with my book, and I'm fine with that. It wasn't blistering -- and I know blistering -- but it was... eh.

One thing, though: in his review, Eubanks writes:
Coming out, old (and new) gay Hollywood, power, forgiveness, and love are some of Byrnes's larger themes, but what one takes away is how Will & Grace-ified gay male culture has become... Instead of HIV status, politics, or sexual proclivities, we hear the young gay lovers argue over "long-term monogamous relationships." Noah's only feeling of shame is that he doesn't appreciate all that he has. His ailing father has always been accepting of him, and his boyfriend is not only beautiful, but drug-free, single, gainfully employed, and (inexplicably) head-over-heels in love with him.
I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm being thin-skinned when I object to this characterization. Let me state clearly that I know what I write, and I write -- follow me here, because some people don't seem to grasp this -- Light. Gay. Commercial. Fiction.

I set out to write books that make you feel good. I want to make you laugh. I am trying to create a fantasy world where, when bad things happen, they happen for ultimately comical reasons. It's a world in which an innocent can find himself hiding in drag to fit into a Mafia family; where a failed actor's attempt to climb the social ladder to success spins disastrously out of control; and where an older gay man's reminiscences and his ex-wife's cartoonish fury serve to accomplish what no amount of self-righteousness can in bringing the famous and obscure out of their closets.

Now, I am not saying I always succeed, but those are my goals. If, in the process, something makes you think, that's a good thing. I have written about the liberation of being free from the closet; the vitality of older gay people; the imperatives of taking risks; and the joy of pure love. I've touched on the petty racism, sexism, classism, ageism, and internalized homophobia that exists within and outside the gay community. But...

But that's not my purpose. There's a lot of 'message fiction' on the shelves already, and it's written by men and women far more skilled than I am. My singular purpose is to keep you entertained for a few days. That's it.

In three books, I think I've mentioned AIDS once or twice, and I don't have a problem with that. There are a ton of books that have HIV and AIDS as a central or secondary theme, and if that's what you want to read about, you can and should look elsewhere. My HIV-positive friends really don't feel that it's a literary imperative to have to read about the virus every time they crack the spine of a book.

You want to read about sexual proclivities? Or, hell, sex? Almost every other LGBT book written is positively dripping with sex, so knock yourself out. As a human being, I enjoy and (I'm told) am quite good at it; as a writer, it's not my thing.

You want your characters to be druggies? Perhaps that would lend a touch of verisimilitude in small doses, but the gay men I surround myself with aren't druggies, and I really wouldn't know what to write about. My characters may be self-destructive in their own ways, but -- with the exception of a character in Stars who frequently escaped his anguish through marijuana -- I don't write drugs. Of course, in every one of my books, almost every character drinks like a fish, so I'm not claiming any sort of moral superiority.

When my characters talk about concepts like monogamy and long-term relationships, and when they fall "head-over-heels" in love, it's because that's the sort of thing I've seen and heard discussed at length in my social crowd. Now, you can say that my circle of friends is a bit vanilla -- except for the liver damage, that is -- but that's just comparing your experience to mine, and not a truly valid commentary. Someone else's comparative decadence -- or worldliness, or subversiveness, or whatever other name you want to give it -- is fine with me, too, as long as you can live with my Will & Grace-ification.

Hmm. In re-reading this, I may be giving the impression that Tom Eubanks's review was wounding to me. It really wasn't, but it's clear that he isn't into the type of novels I write, and therefore was probably not the best choice of a reviewer, just as I'd be ill-suited to review gay erotica vampire novels. But since he didn't seem to know in advance what he was getting, I figure I'd better warn the rest of you.

In the meantime, I'll continue to write the light comic novels that speak to a large slice of the gay population that wants to escape. It isn't Great Important Literature, and I know it. But there's nothing wrong with that, either.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

... although come to think of it, I can totally imagine Lindsay Lohan doing this exact same thing as soon as daddy hangs himself in prison.

Upcoming books that I must own, even though I already own approximately 475 unread and 130 partially read books:

1. Boomsday, by Christopher Buckley [UPDATE, between starting this entry and uploading it: PURCHASED]

2. Mergers and Acquisitions, by Dana Vachon, who you used to know as D-Nasty. And fuck the haters; Dana's one of my favorite people I've never met.

3. What's So Funny?, by Donald E. Westlake. Because all I want out of life is to be known as the gay Donald E. Westlake. Seriously.

So what other books should I be buying?

From my referrers.

Just in case you ever wondered what this blog would be like if things had gone terribly wrong circa 1945.

Monday, April 02, 2007

This is perfection. Seriously. I have tears streaming down my cheeks.

Perhaps the only blog entry that's come close over the past year is this.

This may be the funniest thing I've come across in a long time.

Funny: Andrew Sullivan reports an April Fools prank as real news.

Funnier: the fake news report includes a quote from Andrew Freakin' Sullivan, thereby showing he didn't bother to read past the first paragraph or two.

Funniest: Sullivan's dumbass mistake is still sitting on his blog, meaning that we know it before he knows it. So let's all hang out in the corner and giggle at him.

Sorry. I am an idiot.

For someone who's quick to point a finger at other blogs for not getting the joke, I have had the deeply embarrassing realization that my 'Gotcha!' moment was backwards.

Sullivan's entry was dated -- drumroll, please -- April 1. In rethinking things, it wasn't that he didn't get the joke; he perpetuated the joke! Big difference there. Sorry 'bout that, Sully.

Which means... that the Blade didn't get the joke!

(See? When you screw up, there is always someone else to point the finger at! And that is your lesson for today.)

I think Fred Phelps and his brood have just about run out of things to hate.

Good luck with that, Fred!


Is there any chance -- any teeny, tiny, little chance -- that they get the satire? I ask because they do have a humor tag, so you'd think they'd use it in this case. Just so no, you know, morons would mistake obvious satire for real news.

If the April first date wasn't enough of a tip-off, the name of the spokesman should have done the, er, trick.

But I could be wrong. They're cerebral over there, after all. So I think I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they're employing their usual dry wit.

I know... I know... most cliched April Fools Day entry evah! Bad connection... in a rush... plus, let's face it: it was Sunday. No sense wasting a lot of energy and creativity on the lowest-trafficked day of the week, right?

I'll try to come up with something clever later today. In the meantime, April's TRIVIALITY contest has started. Show us what you've got.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

I'm done.

See ya around.