WHY GOD CREATED DIARIES, EXAMPLE 96,453
From the comments on The Advocate's latest poll. The commenter's name has been redacted, because I feel only slightly less sorry for him than I do that he felt compelled to share a bit too much... and also because I don't want him to Google himself and find this blog. Some of you may remember my former correspondent Ugly Naked Guy; I have no strong desire to repeat that experience.

Oh, and I think this goes without saying, but spelling, grammar, and thought processes are all presented as originally written.

I am a 68 year old gay man . . As soon as I saw "THE SINGING COWBOY -ROY ROGERS ". ON THE SCRENE-----I was hooked on, Nol only HIM ,but MEN . At that age I HAD NO IDEA HOW TO GET ONE !!.____TO PLAY WITH!, 50 YEARS AGO ,Living in Long Beach Ca.We had "THE PIKE"Home of "THE PLUNGE",a huge indoor pool. At the Plunge was naturally a dressing room . As soon as I saw a NAKED MAN ,I was In HEAVEN !. Very Soon ,I SOON descovered that I was NOT THE ONLY ONE CHECKING OUT THE MEN . .. I noticed a very Good Looking Young MAN,who kept looking at me !--.After a few minutes ,he motioned for me toi follow him into a more Private Area,Where we , started Playing With Each OTHER!...I was 6 years Old !!!!--- And lovedf It !! AND YES I WAS VERY ELEGAL , JAIL BAIT >> It was the Most Exciting Thing That EVER HAPPENED .... Everytime I could ,--Off to the PLUNGE I WOULD GO !! I was HOOKED ON CRUISING ! I cannot understand how some of THESE UPTIGHT QUEERS , OBJECT TO GEORGE MICHAELS statement that "CRUISING IS PART OF OUR CULTURE"--GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK ,-- I used To cruise an area in Long Beach ,Called The MILK RUN . In Those YEARS , we had THE NAVY > Those Boy's IN THEIR WHITES were GREAT !!. I was of LEGAL AGE AT THIS TIME .--[Honey ,The MILK RUN WAS PACKE ,AT ANY TIME OF THE DAY OR NIGHT !!--- The Navy Boy's were lined up on OCEAN BLVD ,--- AT BUS STOPS , MOST HOPING TO BE PICKED UP !!!!-- AND Most of them , Would PAY US QUEERS TO STAY AT OUR PLACES - FOR THE WHOLE WEEKEND ,,-OH YES !!! Any ,repeat ANY GAY MAN ,who say's he does not CRUISE ,is one of two things , A LIAR , OR BLIND !!!! GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK !! MOST MEN ARE BEAUTIES , AND LETS FACE IT , WE GAY'S LOVE "BEAUTY"-- ITS PART OF OUR CULTURE !!!----" Going in a T_ ROOM ,LOOKING FOR SEX , IS DANGEROUS , BUT I WILL GVE YOU ODDS ------ MILLION --TO --ONE THAT. MOST GAY MEN WILL SNEEK A PEEK AT A PEE PEE ,in a TEENKLE TEMPLE , or a DRESSING ROOM !!! I do have many FRIENDS ESPECIALLY----J.W. " a long Time friend , WHO CANNOT GET A HARD-On , unless HE HEARS A TOILET FLUSH !!-- NAUGHTY !!---- But this FRIEND RECENTLY MET THE MOSTTY GLORIOUS MAN , AND NOW THEY ARE TOGETHER!! The Man is A CEO OF A HUGE COMPANY !! LIGHTEN UP GIRL FRIEND I Have never stopped CRUISING , and I AM IN A WHEELCHAIR !! AND OLD . But recently , a great looking GUY ,,,, ABOUT 30,,asked me AT A BUS STOP, , WHERE ARE YOU FEADED // . "WITH YOU HONEY !! See Boy's SOME YOUNG ONES LIKE US "OLD ONES ,. YHEEEEEEEE.... I WILL CRUISE MEN TILL I DIE , THEN I'LL CHECK OUT THE ACTION IN HEAVEN ..... [REDACTED] Long BEACH YES , THAT [REDACTED] --- I STILL CRUISE < AND ONCE IN A WHILE ---- A HOME RUN !!!!

Would someone either befriend him or take his computer away? Please?!

WHAT COULD GO WRONG?
Here are a few quick health tips for you:

1. Not a good idea: liposuction in the comfort of your own home.

2. Worse idea: liposuction in the comfort of your own home performed by a pretend doctor.

2. Worse idea ever: liposuction in the comfort of your own home performed by a pretend doctor using this.


In other health-related news, due to what I assume was food poisoning, leaving me in intense pain and discomfort since Friday night, I haven't had a drink in 62 hours. This is how most of you people live? Good lord!

THERE'S SOME GOOD EATIN' IN GOSHEN THIS WEEK
Six hundred pounds of free meat. Mmmm-mmmm. I hopes they got a freezer!

Too bad they couldn't get to Jersey in time to collect the appetizers.

HOW SOON THEY FORGET
Say you're a guy like Randy Mastro, who has served as a high-profile Deputy Mayor for the City of New York, a member of the CUNY Board of Directors, and close, close friend of Rudy.

How do you think it feels if you're Randy Mastro and you wake up one morning, pick up your copy of the New York Post, and see that the paper's State Editor has called you Randy Maestro? Not once, but each of the five times he used your name.

Humbling, ain't it?

And that will teach Fred Dicker to stop watching Seinfeld repeats while his attention should be focused on his keyboard.

CRAZY UNCLE IAN'S GEORGIA FETISH
I know, I know... Ian McKellen is only an actor, so this sort of thing is to be expected.

Still, you'd sort of wish he'd pick another state, right? For variety, if nothing else.


UPDATE: My bad. Updated stories now indicate that McKellen is not suffering from dementia, but rather that PlanetOut screwed things up by recycling an eleven-year-old story.

(Famous Author Rob Byrnes looks at ground and shuffles his feet before saying:)

I *cough* regret the error.

STALKER ALERT!
I should have known this was coming when he started e-mailing me six times a day.

Lance, baby, it would never work between us. Stick with Reichen.

HOW TO STUFF A WILD NOKIA*
I am having a very hard time determining what I Like best about these seven simple sentences.

Marlon Brando Gill? 'The Pincher'? The very fact that she got a cell phone down her throat in the first place? No, I think it has to be this:

"She testified yesterday that she couldn't remember how the phone got in her throat, saying she drank too much that night."

Melinda Abell, I want to party with you, girl!

And I cannot wait for the movie to come out.



* - If you even understand the reference, rest assured that -- yes -- I am very embarrassed for myself

HEADLINE OF THE DAY
The challenge of writing headlines is to tell an entire fascinating story in just a few words. By that standard, this is genius:

Police find human hand at nude dancer's home

FAMOUS AUTHORS LIVING IN LUXURY
Yesterday's edition of The New York Times featured a nice -- and lengthy -- article on the West Village apartment of novelist Tom Dolby. A few things need to be noted here.

1. Like me, Tom's novel was published by Kensington.

2. Like me, Tom is very, very gay.

3. Like me, Tom is described as the Gay Candace Bushnell.

4. And finally... the bitch stole my ink!

I'm serious here. Tom-Freakin'-Dolby stole my damn Times profile, and I am pissed! What makes it worse is that I thought we were friends. I graced his book party, did I not? I did a reading with him, did I not? We were, like, buddies! Maybe not BFF -- no one will ever be able to replace George Michael in my heart, because he just keeps getting hotter and hotter -- but still, Tom and I had a special bond.

And now... well, it's sad.

Fortunately, I was able to access the Times article that should have appeared. And so, submitted for your reading pleasure...

HABITATS/UPPER EAST SIDE
GOOD GOD! PEOPLE LIVE LIKE THIS?

by Jeff Meyers

A couple of weeks ago, Famous Author Rob Byrnes moved out of his cramped apartment and into a more natural environment. Now, he is one of those rare, pioneering New Yorkers who are reclaiming the city's vast network of streets, sidewalks, and parks.

"Some people have housewarming parties when they move to a new place," said Byrnes, 47 a youthful-looking 35, in an e-mail he sent recently from the computer at the public library. "But I don't have the room, so if you're looking for a party, I'm afraid you're SOL."

Mr. Byrnes's new primary residence, he said, was designed by noted decorator Amana Topfreezer. At the author's instruction, the decor was done in sandy earthtones, with irregular vertical stripes interspersed for contrast. "It reminds me of, well, a box. A box that Margot Kidder might live in," said Mr. Byrnes, who, relaxing in his new home, is also reminiscent of a young Margot Kidder.

In fact, it's easy to imagine Margot Kidder necking with herself in Mr. Byrnes's new home, before leaving for a day of scavenging returnables and talking to herself, and then going home to neck with herself some more. Mr. Byrnes cites this as proof that instead of having a 'gay decorator' gene, he actually has a 'crazy cat-lady' gene, adding, "Before I decided to live off the land, I was a 47 youthful-looking 35-year-old who slept on an air mattress, had a futon in his living room, and ate Hamburger Helper."

“People say I’m the gay Candace Bushnell,” he said, referring to the author of “Sex and the City.” "But I'm not. I'm the gay Margot Kidder. How many times do I have to keep telling that to people before they'll listen?"

On many evenings, Mr. Byrnes transports his new home to Carl Schurz Park, near Gracie Mansion, where he enjoys taking in the views of the East River and the Triborough Bridge.

“I am really spoiled by that view,” he said. “I had been living on East 81st Street before, but I wanted more space and light, and I was lucky to find what I wanted. Plus, that trash can over there almost always has half-eaten fast food, and tonight I'm hoping for Wendy's!"

One thing Mr. Byrnes laments is that, with limited space, his new home has no room for the many books he had acquired over the years. "I used to arrange them by color," he said. "The blue books were my favorites. No, I mean the green ones. No, no... wait. Yes, the blue ones were definitely the best."

Yeah, I could have been famous famouser. Ah well... back to work.

ONE DOWN...
Yay. My agent is almost as, um, jazzed about my Jazz Age novel as I am. Now it's on to the sample chapters, after which we'll make the pitch to my editor.

You realize that this could make me incredibly rich, famous, and fabulous, don't you? Good... I just wanted to make sure we're all on the same page.

YET ANOTHER THING I'VE BEEN DOING WRONG
It's not cool to be drunk in Barnes & Noble?

Who knew?

BRINGING DOWN THE HOUSE
Suddenly, everyone thinks he's another Doctor Bartha.

AND YOU SHALL BE KNOWN BY YOUR WORD
Just in case anyone doubted that the blogger formerly known as The Minor Fall, The Major Lift has made his mark as the (relatively) new Gawker editor, I present proof-positive that Alex is in command. (Uh... noted with affection, of course.)

From TMFTML:
* HEY, PAT, WHEN YOU GO TO THE DICTIONARY TO LOOK UP "CENSORSHIP," WHY DON'T YOU TAKE A SWING BY "TWAT" AS WELL
* Howard Kurtz: Grade-A Twat.
* "DRUNK AND DIRTY OLD MAN," THEY SAID. "NOT A TWAT," THEY SAID. "SWEAR," THEY SAID.
* Yes, Virginia, there is a bunch of rich twats.
* a film which we're guessing gave Mickey the same unpleasant feelings in his (twat-adoring) nether regions.

From Gawker:
* Actually, Peter Cook Was One Hot Piece of Twat Himself
* A Hot Piece Of Twat This Is Not
* (No, we're not going to type that word. Gawker draws the line at "twat.")
* Hot Piece of Twat Was, Like, Totally a Victim
* Hot Piece of Twat Faces Future as Ragged Piece of Twat


One more week at Gawker and I think he gets to trademark the T-word.

BRING ME THE HEAD OF JUAN VALDEZ
Via Boing Boing, I finally have a reason to celebrate those 20 pounds or so I've added over the past few years. Because now I can drink 120.63 cups of brewed coffee before it kills me, instead of the old 107.93 cups.

And I need those last 12.70 cups. Do not question that.

THAT 20s SHOW
For the past two weeks, I have been doing a lot of research for what I hope (agent and editor willing) will be my next novel. So if you have any questions about F. Scott Fitzgerald, Babe Ruth, Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, Eubie Blake, Texas Guinan, Mae West, Bert Savoy, Noble Sissle, Zelda Fitzgerald, John Dos Passos, Edmund Wilson, Arnold Rothstein, Lucky Luciano, Maxwell Perkins, Louis Armstrong, Abe Attell, Legs Diamond, Langston Hughes, Hubert Fauntleroy Julian, Charles Lindbergh, Herbert Bayard Swope, Cole Porter, Ring Lardner, Damon Runyon, Gene Malin, Jackie Mason, Jimmy Walker, Betty Compton, Nicky Arnstein, Fanny Brice, Gertrude Lawrence, Ruby Keeler, George Raft, Al Smith, Robert Moses, William Randolph Hearst, Lou Gehrig, Owney Madden, George Gershwin, Larry Fay, or Dorothy Parker, I might be able to help you out.

SAD AND SADDER
Sad: Mickey Spillane, RIP.

Sadder: Regarding criticism of his work, the New York Post reports that Spillane "could have cared less."

*sigh*

I assume that both the reporter and her editor went to J-school, where they were required to, oh, learn the English language. But maybe I assume too much.

CHRISTMAS IN JULY
Yay! Hot off the presses and six wereks weeks* before it hits the bookstores, I've just received a half-dozen copies of the real, bound, corrected, ready-for-the-shelves edition of When the Stars Come Out!

Uh... wait a sec. Does this mean I could have squeezed out another month before turning in my manuscript? [Note to my editor, who occasionally reads this blog: KIDDING!!]

Hmm. Maybe instead of a very early Christmas present, I should consider this a timely Blog Anniversary present, since you bitches have barely left me any congratulatory comments and I'm feeling unloved.


* = Happy now, Mike, fka Mboto?

FOR WANT OF SWEATPANTS...
Well, that sucks! I was all pumped to go to the gym for the first time since I bruised broke bruised my rib, and -- when I got there -- I realized that, in my gym bag, I was carrying three pairs of post-sweat underwear, but no sweats or shorts. So... I guess I'll have to try again on Monday. Just try to imagine my disappointment.

In the meantime, I just realized that this blog celebrates its third anniversary on Sunday. It seems like only yesterday. Do you remember when...

... you found TRL for the first time?

... you first read one of my previews of The Apprentice?

... I prepared to take over FEMA, just months after giving up my dream of heading Homeland Security?

... I let the world know of the marvelous housing opportunities available for Katrina victims?

... you learned just exactly how inspirational this blog is?

... I began the infamous 'Be As Boring As Kottke' meme?

... you met a dog named Fosse?

Good times, right? So should I try for three more?

YOU KNOW, IT IS ODDLY EROTIC...

Attractive woman needed to dress me like a horse and give me a handjob - m4mw
Date: 2006-07-10, 4:39PM EDT

I am a Manhattan hunk looking for an attractive woman who will meet me at my posh Manhattan home, dress me in a horse costume that I will provide, and then give me a thorough handjob while I am dressed in the horse costume. In return, I will make you a fabulous sandwich (i own an amazing panini maker) and give you an authentic signed headshot of Rob Lowe.

It will be oddly erotic. Come on, let's get weird.

Attractive woman needed to dress me like a horse and give me a handjob - m4mw

IT'S THE END OF THE WEEK AS WE KNOW IT
First I read this.

Then I read this.

And then, after considering the possibilities, I ripped my eyes out of their sockets.

The end.

MARK YOUR CALENDARS, BOOK YOUR FLIGHTS...
...because I finally got around to setting a date for the When the Stars Come Out book launch party!

Thursday, September 14, 2006
6:00 PM -- 9:00 PM
at
Bamboo 52
344 West 52nd Street
(between Eighth Av. and Ninth Av.)
Manhattan

Alcohol, an outdoor patio, and sushi. What more do you need? Better yet, it's a cash bar! [Note of clarification: 'better yet' means 'better yet for me.']

So if you're in New York or looking for a reason to visit, come on by! I will do my best to be moderately entertaining.

Oh, and attention Washingtonians: remember that one week earlier -- Thursday, September 7, at 7:00 PM -- I will be doing a reading and signing at Lambda Rising, 1625 Connecticut Avenue NW. Don't strand me alone in a strange city, 'kay?

PUBLISHERS WEEKLY SPEAKS
Whew. Not a perfect review, but -- as you'll recall -- I've had worse.

When the Stars Come Out
Byrnes, Rob (Author)

ISBN: 0758213247
Kensington Publishing Corporation
Published 2006-09
Hardcover, $23.00 (304p)
Fiction | Gay

Reviewed 2006-07-10
PW

Byrnes (Trust Fund Boys ) plumbs the depths of variously closeted men in this sly charmer that's less niche than the goofy cover art suggests. Though Noah Abraham is attractive and successful, he hasn't dated in the year since his relationship with Harry ended; his life revolves around the book about closeted congressional staffers ("The Project," he ruefully calls it) he's been contracted to write, but his subjects are less than willing to go on the record. While on vacation in New York City, Noah meets Bart Gustafson, the handsome personal assistant to cantankerous former movie star Quinn Scott and his companion, Jimmy, a former dancer. Noah is astounded to learn Quinn is gay and decides that this -- not the bland exposé of sexually reluctant bureaucrats -- is the real story. Now all he has to do is convince Quinn to break decades of silence, something much easier said than done, as Noah finds himself up against not only Quinn's reluctance, but the fearsome ire of Quinn's ex-wife, a powerful Hollywood player bent on quashing Quinn's would-be tell-all. The romance between Noah and Bart has its intensely cheesy moments, but clever dialogue and an astute rendering of the prices people pay to keep secrets buried add crossover appeal. (Sept.)

So much for my plans to dramatically rip up a copy of the magazine and announce my retirement. Ah well... back to work.

FRIDAY RANDOMONIUM
New feature. Because although you don't deserve it, it's one way for me to randomly throw out everything I never got around to blogging about this week.

ITEM 1: Will there be love? Will there be hate? Find out early next week when Publishers Weekly reviews When the Stars Come Out! [Sidenote: WTF are they doing reviewing the book seven weeks before its publication date? And should that really make me so nervous?]

ITEM 2: The New York State Court of Appeals issues a 4-2 ruling tossing the issue of gay marriage over to the state legislature, which will do absolutely nothing. (Trust me here: I spent 14 years working in Albany, and I have 1/14th of a gray hair for each year.) Unlike other gay bloggers, I am neither sickened nor shocked nor surprised. Sorry, kids, but sometimes progress takes time. And no, that doesn't make me some sort of heretical accommodationist; just a realist. However, I am also an optimist, and some day I intend to get married.

Oh, and a PS to those who are wrapped up in the rhetorical overkill: Governor Pataki didn't 'pack' the Court of Appeals. Over the course of twelve years, it should fully be expected that he would nominate the men and women who now constitute a majority of the court. Wouldn't it be great if, instead of engaging in this silliness in 2006, all the people who are now throwing themselves in front of the subway over this ruling had gone to the polls and voted? Or am I asking too much?

ITEM 2, UPDATE 1: Oops. I forgot a link here. Now that you know what I think about the politics of the decision, read Kip to see what I think about the ruling itself. If I had the time and intelligence, I couldn't have said it better.

ITEM 2, UPDATE 2: And speaking of the legislature, Daily News political reporter/blogger Ben Smith has set up a Wikipedia page detailing the gay marriage positions of the members of the current state legislature. And please take note: just because no position is indicated does not mean that a legislator is undecided. I know some of these people, and they are most definitely decided.

ITEM 3: Remember that short story I was supposed to finish back in late April? It's (more or less) done now. Why more people don't set their watches by me, I'll never know.

ITEM 4: I cracked a rib last week. Well, okay, I think it's probably just bruised, but 'cracked' sounds better. And a little extra sympathy might take the edge off the embarrassment I feel for taking a plunge down the 59th Street 4-5-6 subway station staircase during rush hour.

ITEM 5: I'll get back to you on this.

Okay, folks, have a great weekend! Think of me often!

I HOPE THEY HAVE E-MAIL IN PRISON
Because if they don't, I'll miss Chuckie's frequent messages!

Damn. Now how am I going to make my millions?