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March 30, 2007
I Reckon They Call Me Mr. Snizz
I learned that word from this week's South Park. Hillary Clinton had a bomb stuck up her snizz. I rather like the term.
They gave her a southern accent on the show. I suppose it was to make fun of her recent appearance in Alabama, where she spoke with a southern drawl to an audience. People think she was faking it - but I don't.
Both my parents have distinct southern accents so I'm pretty familiar with the dialect. Even though I was raised in Upstate NY, I would accidentally fall into a twang when surrounded by a bunch of hillbillies family members from West Virginia. It's a strange phenomena, but it happens easily. Kinda like when you hang out with a bunch of straight guys for an extended period, you start overusing words like "dude," "bro," and "tits." Or if you hang out with a bunch of gay men, you instinctively start smoking meth, while discussing the legacy of Anna Nicole Smith.
Anyway, I will be all alone this weekend, so I reckon I'll be having plenty of anonymous buttsex. I just hope there isn't another home invasion, y'all.
UPDATE: Actually I'm not alone. There has been a moth fluttering around my home since yesterday. I don't have the energy to disclipline her, so I'll just let her be. I've named her Rolonda - my tribute to the short-lived talk show from the early ninties. So, yeah, it's just me and Rolonda.
Posted by durban bud at 05:24 PM | Comments (14)
March 29, 2007
Open Thread Thursday
What are you masturbating to these days?
Posted by durban bud at 12:38 AM | Comments (31)
March 28, 2007
Complaining Sux Donkey Dick
Some church is giving out free bracelets to remind us not to complain. Isn't that cute? They've already given out over a million.
The head of the church is kinda sexy. Apparently he's married, but my gaydar is telling me otherwise. Tick. Tock.
If I were dating him, I think it would be fun to tie him down with a bunch of those bracelets and lightly snap him with them - in an affectionate and loving manner, of course. And when he would say -- "Stop, it hurts!" -- I would remind him not to complain. It would be hot. And he would like it, eventually.
His safe word would be "Calvary".
Anyway, I ordered a few. I would like to give them to a few people who could probably benefit from their purpose. I won't disclose any names, but you may know some of them. I wonder if we're supposed to wear them on our right or left arm, or maybe both. Hmm.
I, of course, don't need the bracelet. They're fucking purple! And I don't wear fucking purple! Anymore.
Posted by durban bud at 12:15 AM | Comments (11)
March 26, 2007
The Vampire Squid From Hell
That's what Sigourney Weaver called one of the deep sea creatures featured on Planet Earth last night. The show looked pretty bitchin' on our bitchin' plasma! I love shows like this, except when they show baby elephants getting eaten. I realize they want to show the animals in their natural habitat and all, but I think it would make for better TV if they shot one of the lions in the ass - not to kill it, just to injure it some. It would confuse all the other animals and add to the drama of the whole hunter/hunted thing.
My favorite part is the deep sea stuff - where things glow, dance and act all weird and sketchy - kinda like an underwater circuit party.
That's where I got my first look at the monkfish. Won't be eating that ever again. Have you seen what these things look like? Check this photo out - and no, that's not from happy hour at Cobalt - it's monkfish! I'm pretty sure The Ssssecret says, "If you eat ugly things, you will eventually become hideous." Which reminds me - next time some foodie snob says, "I'll have the Chilean Sea Bass," you say, "It's actually called the Patagonian Toothfish, you pretentious fuck! Chilean Sea Bass is some made up marketing name. It is neither Chilean, nor Sea Bass, mmm'kay?" Again, this will keep the conversation lively.
And I hope during my next lifetime, I don't get reincarnated as an isopod. I fear that will happen though, as my punishment for certain things. :(
And what does Clickboo think about monkfish and isopods? Find out here!
Posted by durban bud at 10:23 PM | Comments (12)
Gurl, Interrupted
Some crazy woman got into our building today. She claimed to be UPS. Rob looked out the peephole and did not notice any brown. Liebag. He asked if he could help her with something. She claimed her 14 year old son was being molested by the tenants on the second floor. I'm like, "I'm trying to watch the Hot Topics segment on The View and you're totally interrupting."
She was an attractive woman, dressed nicely, but her eyes were empty and she just stared at me. I could hear Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit oozing out of her. Then she ran upstairs and started banging on doors, screaming and crying.
"911, we have an emergency."
She banged on my other neighbor's door. My neighbor yelled, "There is no 14 year old here" and pushed her out.
The police showed up. Not sure why she selected that particular unit, but we have since discovered that she has been making threatening phone calls to them. Two college age girls live there -- the same girls featured in the poppers story.
The police asked her if she was on medication. She is. She said her son was abducted in Ohio and taken back to this apartment, for molestation purposes. They notified her doctor and hauled her away. She claimed to be bi-polar but this sounds like schizophrenia to me.
"Go ask Alice. I think she'll know." Indeed.
Posted by durban bud at 01:05 PM | Comments (6)
Can You Break a Fifty?
Posted by durban bud at 09:16 AM | Comments (1)
March 23, 2007
Creepshow
Bill Maher mentioned this creepiness on his show. A daughter promises her father that she won't let her cherry get popped until she gets married -- like a paternal clitoriectomy. So they have a ceremony to pledge this commitment. Eeeeeewww. Very disturbing. I smell incest.
Posted by durban bud at 11:49 PM | Comments (16)
Stranger with Candy
A month or so ago Joe blogged about his worst sex ever. Many commenters relayed their own horror stories, filled with alcohol and/or feces. I couldn't really think of any that happened to me of that caliber (except for that one "incident," but I've blocked that from my memory).
Most of my one nighters were never very interesting, except for these:
I hooked up with a guy I met at the Green Lantern, when it used to be a sleazy joint, back in the day. I met some hornball, took him home and as we were making gaybies, he looked me deep in the eyes and said - I shit you not - "I love you." Wha-wha-what? I said, "No, you don't. Now keep those legs in the air!" or something. I felt bad for him. He was tragic. But I did score a free trip to Disney World out of it a few months later! Wait - maybe I'm tragic. :(
A better hookup I had was with some guy I saw on the street. It was late, around 2am. I was walking home from a bar. I noticed a guy on the other side of the street. We cruised each other. He motioned for me to follow him. And like a kid being offered cotton candy, I went for it. We didn't talk; I just followed. He lured me back to his place, which was only about a block away. I went in. He turned out to be a butterface, but that feature wasn't what I was interested in. We took our clothes off, without saying anything, except our names. He assumed the position and I made sweet anonymous butt love to him. It was all very Hansel & Gretel-ish and kinda hot. But I made a huge hook-up faux pas: I slept over. Eeeeew. I awoke in the morning from my sugar high, pushed him in the oven and ran the hell out.
In hindsight, it's very odd to do something so intimate with someone you don't know. I was never very good at it. I need passion!
Those stories are probably boring compared to y'all's but that's all I can remember. For now.
Posted by durban bud at 01:35 AM | Comments (7)
March 21, 2007
Am I Livin' in a Cardboard Box
We live in a small 2 bedroom condo. Our electricity bill was over $300 last month; it's over $300 this month. The most it's ever been in the 4 years I've been in this place is $130. Nothing has changed from a year ago. And I'm pretty sure we haven't had a laser light show here recently. So what the fuck is causing this? It better not be that damn oven cleaning incident! I know rates went up some 18% in DC but this is an over 50% increase.
To save some money, we now live by candlelight, fire, and vaseline. It's so Little House on the Prairie. And I am Nellie - yet "straight-acting."
The cost of living in DC is starting to suck donkey dick. The majority of people moving into our neighborhood are lawyers, realtors, and trust-fund kids.
I've been here almost 14 years - maybe it's time to consider another place to set up shop and meet new friends.
For shits and giggles, I got on realtor.com to search prices of homes from a variety of cities. I even looked at prices in my hometown of Rochester, NY. We could get a pretty big place there; the prices are so affordable - but we would be in Rochester, NY. And I've already lived there. Once was enough.
I'd like to find a smaller city that's progressive, well run, affordable, decent weather, preferably near water and other homosexuals. Is that asking for too much??? Do these places even exist???
Portsmouth, NH is ideal but the weather sux. Same thing with Burlington, VT. However, I think I could compromise on something.
If y'all know of some hidden oasis, or maybe not so hidden, do let me know. I'm open-minded.
Posted by durban bud at 11:21 PM | Comments (36)
March 20, 2007
Robin Vs. Charlene
Some have complained that this photo of Charlene is not safe for work, so it is now "after the jump." You're welcome.
You can now ask America's favorite girlfriend, Robin McGraw, beauty questions on her husband's web site. This is wonderful news for drag queens.
Do you have a beauty question for Robin? Well here is a sampling of questions directly from the site:
"Have you always wondered about Robin's beauty regimin?"
No.
"Wonder where she buys her shoes?"
Trannyshack?
"Have questions about how she stays in shape?"
I'm guessing she has a trainer and nutritionist her husband bought her.
"Tell us!! You could be a guest on the show and ask Robin in person!"
My life is complete.
And now some children's foundation is honoring dear Robin this week for her longtime dedication to children’s welfare and for her devotion to her own family.
That's great. I'm devoted to my family and have a longtime dedication to gay rights and porn. Where's my award?
Can someone please give this woman a real job - like maybe a hosting gig at an IHOP? I'm sure she has some skills.
Charlene could show her a thing or two about makeup.
I'm not sure why this woman gets under my skin - then again, I don't question the way God makes me think.
And for the record, Dr. Phil is a bear. Ms. McGraw would totally love the Blowoffs.
Posted by durban bud at 12:17 PM | Comments (5)
March 19, 2007
Blow & Tell
This is hilarious. And sad.
Show & Tell is really just an antiquated form of blogging. So if I found it, it's totally something I would have shown everyone too -- y'know, if my parents were into the crack.
Posted by durban bud at 04:34 PM | Comments (4)
March 18, 2007
The Sssecret
My orally-oriented friend, Josh, called me this morning. He whispered, "Hey, I'm a block away from your place and I have The Sssecret. Wanna know it?" I'm all, "Huh? Why are you whissspering?" "Cuz I have The Sssecret in my pocket and it's a sssecret. I want to show it to you." "Mmm'kay, lemme see The Sssecret." Sssso I buzzed him in.
Sure enough, in his pocket, was The Sssecret. He dislodged it and showed it to me. I grabbed it, stuck it in and pressed play.
Apparently, if you envision things you want and always think positively about it, you will receive it. This energy shoots out from your head and into the universe, disguised as white halo gamma rays or something. How cool is that? But if you're a mega bitch all the time, that energy will only get you anal warts and bad customer service.
I'm cynically optimistic about the whole thing, but, because of my new positive thinking methods, I will have two million dollars, a beach house in Costa Rica, and have banged both Jake Dakota and Dean Coulter by June 30th. Yay, me! The Sssecret is sssuper-duper!
The DVD suggested great minds like Martin Luther King, Jr. and Abraham Lincoln followed the principles of The Sssecret, which is surprising, since they were both shot. I guess they were a couple of Negative Nancies too. But I don't judge.
Anyway, I know The Sssecret! I know The Sssecret. Put that in your positive pipe and sssssmoke it. June is going to be fantastic! For me.
Posted by durban bud at 11:33 PM | Comments (18)
March 16, 2007
The Heritage of a Mutt
Since I enjoy the color green and The Cranberries, I called my mom to see if I have any Irish heritage I was unaware of. She didn't know. But she did mention, "I had someone look into our family background a couple years ago and he found some really interesting stuff!" "And you're just now telling me?" "I forgot." "What's the interesting stuff?" "I can't talk about it at work." "Why, is it bad?" "No, I just can't discuss it here." "OMG - am I related to some famous criminals?" Silence. "We'll talk about it later." "I'm not related to Dana Plato, am I?" "Later!"
So I called my dad. He knew a report was done on our background but said, "I haven't read it. Your mom says it's good."
Is it any wonder I don't know my ancestry? My dad says I'm a mutt but mostly English - which explains my Cockney accent - and German. He also says I have a small amount of Indian in me - which explains a few things as well.
Anyway, I've decided to speak with an Irish accent this weekend.
Posted by durban bud at 01:15 AM | Comments (5)
March 15, 2007
One Year, Baby!
So, like, I've been off drugs and the Jesus Juice for a year now. Is that self-righteous and self-indulgent to mention? Probably so, but so is "blogging".
One of the best things about being clean - besides the no hangover thingie and the fresh Downey scent - is that the anniversary allows me to get presents! I had no idea. I got a package from my mom the other day filled with chocolates - to feed my latest addiction. I didn't have the heart to tell her that some of them were filled with rum, but it's the thought that counts.
It seems my whole getting clean experience has set off a popular trend! Many people have asked my opinion on all that - and by 'many' - I mean like one person. Getting clean isn't funny. I can't even imagine what it would be like with a bunch of photographers following you around when you're at rock bottom. If I were Britney -- and I am -- I would taser anyone taking my photo. And then dance.
The deck is only stacked in your favor if you live in a very supportive environment, and, sadly, most people don't. I hear a lot of people gripe, "All they need to do is stop. It's just willpower. Don't they realize how bad this is affecting them?"
If it were only that simple. All common sense goes out the window when your brain wiring is all fucked up from excessive use. After stopping, it takes about a year to get your head back to normal from alcohol abuse and five years from crystal meth use - and that's only if you've used for a relatively short period of time.
I remember staring in the mirror, crying like a little bitch, wondering, "Why do I feel like shit?" Hmm, maybe it has something to do with that little white residue leaking out of your nose or the fact that vodka has replaced the blood running through your veins, causing you to shake it like a Polaroid.
So far, I don't miss it all that much. For me, it just led to too many ugly situations. Sure, there are times when it's a bit awkward -- when everyone is indulging but me -- but I've always been a left of center kind of guy, and I'm cool with continuing the tradition.
People drink as a social lubricant, so what do I do now? I have found that iced tea seems to work just as well. After about 5 or 6, I'm just as annoying as I was when I was drunk! And truthfully, I don't go out much anyway.
The only odd byproduct of all this is my inability to get overly emotional. I'm not so sure that's a good thing. I remember forcing myself to cry at my uncle's funeral last May. It was at that moment when I realized I should consider a profession in the acting arts. It's been about a year since I bawled Swaggart-style. Or maybe I do have a cold, black heart! I should rent Steel Magnolias this weekend to see if that helps. Or maybe Star Wars: Episode 1.
So that's my self-righteous progress report. I'm off to a decent start in the chemically-free world. And I'm still a crazy man-whore-cub-like-creature-thing!
UPDATE: Wow, perfect timing. HBO is launching a 14-part series on addiction tonight at 9:00. The tagline for the show: "Why Can't They Just Stop?" The full schedule is here.
Posted by durban bud at 04:34 PM | Comments (24)
March 14, 2007
The Best Contestant Ever
Ahahahahaha!
Posted by durban bud at 09:38 PM | Comments (14)
March 13, 2007
More Proof on the Imminent Decline of Quality Male Heterosexual Genes
This "commercial" airs throughout the day in the DC region. I would like to get a group of us together and head on over to this store, get naked, and jump all over their couches, while singing Jane's Addiction's "Been Caught Stealing." It's only fair.
More proof here.
Seriously, I pray to the Baby Jesus every single day for making me a fudgepacker.
Posted by durban bud at 01:49 PM | Comments (14)
March 12, 2007
Voices Carry
I heard my neighbor having sex the other night. I really didn't need to hear that. At first, I thought it was a little baby trapped in our chimney. So as I started to light a fire to muffle the cries, I realized it was my neighbor getting her muffin buttered and jammed.
I should probably say something to her, but I won't. She's pleasant enough and her wireless connection is much faster than mine - I love that about her!
Why is it the women are always the ones to make noise during hetero sex? I was listening closely for the guy she was porking to make some sort of sound. He didn't make a peep (even though it's close to Easter and all). That's so irritating. Show some goddamn enthusiasm. Moan, fucker!
I can hear my other neighbor when he's on the phone. He laughs like Robert De Niro did in the movie theater scene from Cape Fear. And I'm not kidding one bit. He seems like a sociopath too. Plus, he owns a weiner dog.
I don't say anything to him either about his scary laugh, cuz his bedroom is right next to ours. I'm no screamer, by any means, but I do like to be an active participant - so I'm sure he's heard a thing or two hundred.
Nothing is private. Someone is always listening. Unless you're deaf.
Posted by durban bud at 09:30 PM | Comments (11)
March 11, 2007
Dehibernation
A glint of sunlight permeated my eyelids this morning. I knew it was time for the thaw. I stretched and wiggled and yawned, disoriented, like a newborn gazelle splattering out of its father's vagina. I was cold, shivering - my extra layer of warmth provided by the behemothic amount of Chipotle burritos consumed beforehand, was starting to thin. And so it begins.
I will head to the Circle to breathe in the fresh pre-spring air and let the sunshine blow a huge load all over my face. And I'll get a Chipotle burrito on the way there.
So I tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition. Right?
I made it to the Circle and found a seat right by the fountain. I took in a deep breath and stared into the sunlight, to melt the ice crystals that had formulated on my winter beard.
I witnessed several others coming out of their very own hibernations. There was the hippie straight couple, contemplating whether they had enough tempe in the fridge to make a full meal; there were the cute interracial kids playing in the fountain, where the water was still absent; there was the sweet gay couple, freshly fucked, also consuming a Chipotle meal. It was all very peaceful.
That's when the Muslims showed up. Protesting something. Traveling in a circle, shouting, with signs and puppetry. Over and over. Yeah, um, can y'all take that elsewhere? I'm defrosting. My companion kept saying, "We're going to get blown up. We must evacuate." Fine.
I went back home and Googled "Chipotle Nutrition," for shits and giggles, to see just how bad this meal is for me. I was horrified. My post hibernation meal was 1328 calories. It was just a fucking burrito. No wonder that extra layer kept me warm. I mean, I knew Chipotle was owned by McDonald's, but I almost never eat fast food. Chipotle is my one weakness.
I felt sad and anxious and plump. The Muslims and Google ruined my dethawification process. It had not reached completion, so I crawled back into bed. It was too soon. I was not ready.
It was a botched partial rebirth abortion, I suppose.
Posted by durban bud at 11:49 PM | Comments (11)
March 09, 2007
Douching the Oven
I suppose I should update, but it's been kinda fun watching you kids come up with depressing tunes.
Let's see...
I could discuss how Towleroad ruined my afternoon yesterday by posting an article on the death of Winona Ryder. He promptly removed it when it turned out to be a hoax. Thanks, though, for the panic attack.
I could talk about Newt Gingrich having an affair. What kind of skanky whore do you have to be to let Newt Gingrich mount you? Gross.
I could talk about how much I enjoyed the new Zodiac movie.
Or I could tell you about my experience cleaning the oven last weekend.
One of my goals for the weekend was to clean the oven. Isn't that exciting? I guess some "drippings" and whatnot from Thanksgiving had "spilled" over and were never cleaned up. I thought it was about time to remove this crap -- as my pizzas were starting to have a pesky smoked turkey flavoring to them.
I looked through our cupboard of cleaning supplies to find the oven cleaner -- cuz every self-respecting homosexual has an oven cleaner, right? Except me. Apparently.
What's Plan B?
I noticed a "clean" button on the oven. Hmmm. I've seen it before but never paid any attention to it. So I guess it cleans itself?!? Just like a cat. Or a vagina. This is fantastic! I shall nickname her Ms. Pussy.
I hit the button and waited patiently for the mechanical arms to descend into Ms. Pussy to start the scrubbing process. That did not happen. And where are the suds?
I tried to open the door to see what the hold up was, but Ms. Pussy had locked the door and started to convulse as I pulled on the door. Did Chistine have an oven sister? I'm all, "Calm down, Ms. Pussy." I tried to turn it off but she wouldn't budge, and for some strange reason, she turned the burners on!
One hour later...
I. Can't. Fucking. Breathe. And it's hot as hell in here. And the racks in Ms. Pussy look none too happy.
After 3 hours, Ms. Pussy has turned herself off, finally. I still can't breathe. She is smoking; the racks have disintegrated; and there is a plethora of ashes.
Interesting way to "clean".
It's good to know the oven also serves as a kiln. Or maybe a crematorium, which may come in handy. "Just sayin'"...
Posted by durban bud at 04:17 PM | Comments (14)
March 07, 2007
All in All is All We All Are
When I came out to my parents, I made my mom listen to Nirvana's "All Apologies" - like, right after I told her. I wanted her to hear Kurt Cobain say, "Everyone is gay." I assume I did that as some sort of validation from a talented person I greatly admired.
Three months later, he killed himself.
In hindsight, it's one of the most depressing songs out there. It must have caused my mom even more anxiety. Bad son!
I think one of the best depressing songs is Sinead O'Connor's version of Elton John's "Sacrifice." It's basically about the end of a relationship due to infidelity (I think). It's quite beautiful, actually. But very, very sad.
What are some really good but awfully depressing songs you like? Let's get depressed together!
UPDATE: I just remembered another really depressing song, although it's not all that good:
No Need to Argue - The Cranberries
I should probably counter this question with the best happy songs! I'll wait until the spring when everyone's Seasonal Affective Disorder disipates.
Posted by durban bud at 09:03 AM | Comments (60)
March 04, 2007
The "C" Word
Someone close to me thinks some of my language may be offensive to others. That's just fucking retarded. I mean, really, why is the "c" word so much more offensive than, say, "bitch", "slut", "firecrotch" or "Nancy Grace"?
I don't think I'm offended so much by certain words, mainly because I've been called all of them, I think. If someone calls me a faggot, I'm like, "I am! Tell me something I didn't know, fucktard!" They usually add, "You're ugly, too! -- to which, I have no response. :(
Here's a new word to add to your lexicon: Gerds!
Gerds are gay nerds.
"A bunch of gerds got together to play Dungeons & Dragons, again."
Nothing wrong with it. You are what you are.
For the record, I'm a gork.
Anyway, what word(s) offends you?
UPDATE: Stina takes the "c" word head on in her blog. And applies directly to the meaning. She doesn't address gerds, though.
Posted by durban bud at 02:11 PM | Comments (29)
March 02, 2007
Kellie Pickler's Massive Faux Mammaries
Is it wrong to stop a hot session of sex to see the results on American Idol? Just curious.
Anyway, I was watching the History Channel today. I love the History Channel, except when they talk about wars and the Aztecs, or dumb shit like the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. I mean, really, who cares.
I learned a couple things that I wanted to pass along, since my purpose is to educate you:
* We copied our modern highway system from the Germans. Hitler was the one who created it there.
* Why are there so many circles on some of DC's busiest avenues? When the city was originally planned, it was to make a takeover more difficult for an incoming army -- the enemy doesn't have a straight shot into our city; at least, that's how it was originally planned
Interesting, innit?
That's all.
I'm preparing to see Zodiac this weekend, if you care. This, on the other hand, looks like a big pile of shit.
Posted by durban bud at 01:59 PM | Comments (11)
March 01, 2007
Things I Don't Understand
Maybe it's cuz of my Attention Deficit Disorder (diagnosed by 3 different doctors!).
* Nasdaq
* Sounds
* Harry Potter
* Daschunds
* Cumberbuns
* The accent and words unique to those in the Baltimore region
* Capri pants
* Scrapple
* The interest in that woman's death
* The Statler Brothers
* The "virgin" birth
* Warren
* Popped collars
* Nuns
* Pwned
* C++
* Mary Hart
* Greenland
* How planes stay up in the air
* Life coaching
* The Aztecs
* Poker
* Labiaplasty
* Matt Drudge's sexual orientation
* Hinder
* Why lions don't get sick from eating raw wildebeest meat
* Carnations
* Adam's apples
* "Just sayin'"
* Deal or No Deal
* Battlestar Galactica
* The brain
* Football uniforms
* Cankles
* "Blogging"
* Sex without penetration
* George Lopez
* Plankton
* The owner of G Books
* Attention Deficit Disorder
Posted by durban bud at 01:24 PM | Comments (21)