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March 31, 2008
Hi Jesus, What's Going On?
Heaven must be really boring. I'm fairly certain Jesus reads my blog. Note to the Almighty: 'Sup, betch?
Here's how I know:
Rob's mom and aunt are in town. We took them to Rehoboth for the weekend. While there, some force caused us to also visit Lewes, Delaware. It was sunny but very windy. He used the wind to blow us to Lewes. Then he blew harder as we passed a chocolate store. So we walked in and that's when I saw it. This is the sign He gave me as a wink and a nudge:
That's right...it's a chocolate starfish. A REAL one. The first I've ever seen in my life, and it follows a post in which I mentioned it. Hmmm...could He be any more obvious?
I could feel His presence as I bit into the chocolate starfish. He whispered in my ear, "Son, I am here. Is there anything you would like to ask me -- anything at all?? "Hmmm. Let me think, Jesus. There is something that's always bothered me. What does CVS stand for?" He laughed like Santa, "Oh, you're so fucking dumb. It stands for Calgary Vegetarian Society. Duh." "I mean the CVS stores, douche." "Ooooh. I knew that. It stands for Consumer Value Store. And don't call me a douche, faggot."
And now you know.
Lewes, Delaware was founded by the Dutch. This museum was built in 1931 as a tribute. Notice, however, there are no whores in the windows.
We toured the museum and I learned a few things.
Do you know how Delaware got its name?
As explained in the museum: English captain Samuel Argall of Virginia anchors in the bay and names the cape in honor of Lord De La Warr (Sir Thomas West, Governor of Virginia). The bay and river are soon called De La Warr. What later becomes Cape Henlopen, is named Cape James in honor of the King of England.
Oh, and Delaware was the first state to ratify the US Constitution. Also, there is no sales tax. Big gay bear snaps to Delaware!
Maybe you want to drop those into a conversation this week. You're welcome.
Posted by durban bud at 03:00 PM | Comments (9)
March 27, 2008
Raven-Symoné's Playlist
In case you were wondering:
You Learn - Alanis Morissette
A Woman's Worth - Alicia Keys
Like a Star - Corinne Bailey Rae
Izzo (H.O.V.A.) - Jay-Z
Little Black Sandals - Sia
Sinnerman - Nina Simone
She Will Be Loved - Maroon 5
Poison - Bell Biv DeVoe
Alice - Raven-Symoné
That's so Raven!
Total lesbian.
Anyway --
So I'm searching around iTunes to find some new music to wet my whistle and I discover a number of cool musicians have albums coming out. I am so out of the loop. Counting Crows, REM, B-52's and Moby! I clicked around, samplin' the goods when I noticed a button to review Kelly Ripa's playlist. OMG, what does Kelly Ripa like?!? I made a mental note to click on that later. Well, later came and I couldn't find her playlist link again. I started to panic at the disco. WHERE THE FUCK IS KELLY RIPA'S PLAYLIST?!? I NEED TO KNOW!!! NOW!!! I actually searched the Help file to find it. It didn't help me find Kelly Ripa's playlist. Hey Apple, your help file doesn't help. After an exhaustive search on my own, I finally found it. It was a list of her favorite tunes for dinner parties. Ew.
Rolling Stone is raving (they're so raven, too!) about the new REM and Moby records. They also have an article on Adam Duritz and how he's been suffering from dissociative disorder the past few years. Hey Adam, I can totally relate.
I like him. I don't care if he did a Shrek song. That's just how non-judgmental I am. Did you know his dreads are fake? I know -- I was shocked too. He's like 43 and tells people they are fake! I'm totally considering getting them. I need to bring dreads into the gay bear community. I want to be the gay Eddy Grant. "Boy! vrooooooooooom."
Do you want to know what the worst name for a band is?
Lifehouse
But that's irrelevant because the leading force behind this bubble-gum rock trio is Jason Wade and he has miraculously transformed himself from a thin, long-haired twink into a beautiful T-bone slab of man-beef.
I did my research. He's also, like, a nice guy and Christianish, I think. He doesn't even fucking swear. Sure, his lyrics are pure mozzarella -- maybe, gouda -- but the guy's got some talent. Think I'm joking, check out some of his acoustic performances on VH1 and see if you wouldn't mind him singing velveeta-nothin's into your ear when you wake up:
Hanging by a Moment
Whatever it Takes
Somewhere Only We Know (Keane cover)
[SPOLERS AHEAD!]
He's married...to a woman. But that doesn't mean much these days, does it? I mean, "TED" was also married to a woman, and, as we all know, he's now buttfucking the east coast. In fact, Governor O'Malley -- in partnership with Craigslist -- has renamed a rest-stop on I-95 to "TED's Chocolate Starfish Blow-N-Go." Congrats, TED! Smooch (but not on the lips).
Speaking of chocolate starfish, how have I never heard of this vulgar term before? I mean, I knew Limp Bizkit had an album with that in its title, but when I think of Limp Bizkit, I rarely think of anus designs. Wait a second...oh...actually it now makes perfect sense! Personally, though, I don't see the starfish resemblance.
Back to T-Bone -- the lyrics to his latest single, Whatever it Takes, include this obvious reference to man-on-man sex:
"If we're gonna make this work
You gotta let me inside even though it hurts"
Total fag.
Actually Jason appears decidely into the ladies, so all you teenage girls who Googled "OMG I love Jason Wade" and "Jason Wade naked" can back the fuck up. I can ogle yo' man. Besides, I probably have as a much of a chance as spending a night in his lifehouse as you have getting asked to the prom. So save your vicious comments, grow up and suck it.
Update: I just infiltrated the Facebook group, "I Would Marry Jason Wade in a Heartbeat." I'm the only male member and probably the only one over...um....17. CAT FIGHT!! Bring it, bitch.
I'm so Raven!
Posted by durban bud at 09:45 AM | Comments (16)
March 24, 2008
Mister Fister Celebrates the Resurrection of Christ by Asking, "Did He See His Shadow?"
Mister Fister spent the weekend at Durban Inn. I love when he stays here. He's like an encyclopedia of kink I can't stop reading. So knowledgable! Just how many of you belong to something called Recon ??? From what he showed me, a lot of you do.
Plus, he's a devout Jew, so he teaches me funny words. For example, he kvetched every time I tried to get him to eat a piece of bacon. I don't know why he makes such a fuss. It's not like he's vegan. So being the good Malach I am, I placed a package of ham on his shoulder to see if his skin would burn or at least smoke. It didn't happen. That's totally a myth. Conclusion: Jews can eat pork without catching on fire.
Since fish is kosher for him to eat, we went for sushi at a new restaurant right around the corner. It's called Plum Blossom and it's really good. Real Korean sushi chefs! No one knows about it. There was only one other table occupied in the small restaurant Saturday evening. I have waited all my adult life for a sushi place within a couple blocks of me, and now it's likely to close if y'all don't frequent it. It's right by Lauriol Plaza. Why stand in line when this deliciousness is close by??? Do it for me for Christ's sake -- especially if you're white, cuz, apparently, all white people like sushi.
Speaking of white people, why was the new Target in Columbia Heights closed on Sunday? For Easter "observance"?? For real?? Bitch, please. I need pillows! Luckily Target's slutty, agnostic, younger sister, Bed Bath & Beyond, was open next door. Love her. To be fair, Target must be closed for every religious holiday thus forth (also, Jake Dakota's birthday) or I am writing a nasty-gram (using all-caps) to Target headquarters. Oh, and I'm gonna cc Richard Dawkins on that letter, too. Ha, ha, Target. You just got pwned!
And for the record, just cuz you got all pretty and went to church on Easter, it doesn't erase all the sinning you've done and will continue to do the remainder of the year. One day at church doth not honour and glorify His (Joe) nameth. Got it? Ha, ha. I just pwned all you Easter lovers. Tssss - I'm on fire.
So Durban Inn has new fluffy pillows. Mister Fister left yesterday. Clyde leaves (again) Wednesday. Rob's mom arrives here Wednesday. With his aunt. For a week. That's all.
More Mister Fister mayhem:
Mister Fister Bangs a Tranny
Mister Fister Gets a Mani-Pedi
Mister Fister & His Slaveboy Harem
Posted by durban bud at 09:40 PM | Comments (10)
March 23, 2008
Tyler Perry's "Still Wearing a Dress"
A man dressed up as an older, heavy-set black woman, again. Oh, that's so hilarious. And makes lots of money!
The truth shall set you free, Ms. Perry.
It seems to be an epidemic in the community.
Posted by durban bud at 11:42 PM | Comments (5)
March 18, 2008
The Other Bowlin' Gurl
A good friend said the following to me the other day:
"I think joining a gay bowling league would be good for you."
What the hell?
I only bowl like once every five years. And I enjoy it, sure, but a league? Is it the way I walk?
My initial reaction was to knee him in the groin. Then I thought, he's older and wiser (and Jewish), maybe he's prepping me for the next phase of my life. He knows we're supposed to do this once we gays enter our mid-late thirties, right? We bowl. We join leagues. We join GAY leagues. We GAY bond. "We connect, when we're together it's so per-fect." Right?
I guess it's the natural progression of a homosexual's life path. I mean, I've covered a lot of the gay basics (aka gaysics) in my 20's and early 30's -- y'know, pretended to be straight, moved to a gayborhood, came out, went through a slut phase, went through a clubbing phasE, endured the token psycho boyfriend, held Oscar parties, bought a pair of G-Star Jeans, went on a gay cruise, questioned my religious upbringing, successfully completed a stint in rehab, bought a condo and renovated it with straight lines, muted colors and ubatuba, and settled down with another dude -- I think that's most of the gaysics. Now, at this age, my elders are leading me into the gay league phase -- which, I have to say, is way better than the other phase some have selected in their thirties, and y'all know what I'm talkin' about: whether or not to use steroids phase.
I'm totally considering it -- joining a gay league, that is. Steroids will only lead to anger issues and moobs in your 40's and who wants that? Apparently some do. And we do know, big boy. No judgments, of course. "Just sayin'". Smooch.
I still have a lot of time before adhering to all the customs of our gay 40's (adopting a Vietnamese or Guatemalan baby, buying a convertible, getting gender-reassignment surgery*, regularly attending tuxedo-only fundraisers for gay rights organizations, becoming a "foodie") and our gay 50's (singing in a choir, international bath housing, using hankies, making that big move to Lauderdale or P-town, and, for the husky guys, blossoming into a hot daddy and/or going through leatherpause). Simply exhausting. We really need to respect our elders.
Of course none of this is set in stone. Gay societal life rules are much more fluid than heterosexual rules, thanks to neoteny and whether or not you were influenced by talented homosexual role-models, like Rip Taylor, C3PO and Jo from The Facts of Life. Basically some of us behave a lot younger than we really are, which keeps us interesting and even, some might say, fierce. Others might say annoying and douchebaggy. We ignore those people.
Joining a gay league would be about regaining that camaraderie we all once shared bar-hopping. It makes sense, now that most of us lead hectic adult lives in the straight world and rarely get to bond with others who enjoy banging the same-sex. I'm all about it -- especially the thought of patting the other players on the butt when they get a ssssstrike and, of course, the post-game locker room action.
Sadly, becoming less judgmental toward others and more secure with ourselves doesn't occur on the gay life continuum for most of us until we enter our late 60's -- unless you're Mr. Blackwell. But luckily for all of us homos, as I said, it's fluid.
But bowling?
*if applicable
Posted by durban bud at 11:05 PM | Comments (26)
March 14, 2008
Walk Score
Find your neighborhood walk score. Mine is a mighty high 94. It better be...since I don't own a car anymore.
G Books was listed as the closest bookstore to me. That made me giggle. What bookstore sells 8-inch glass dildos, nipple clamps and Boy Butter along with their "books"? I have to say, though, it's fantastic to have that kind of bookstore within walking distance. You never know when you might run out of things.
(Via Slog)
Posted by durban bud at 07:16 PM | Comments (13)
March 11, 2008
Whore
It's so funny how bloggers rush to their computers to offer their oh-so-very-important opinion whenever there's a sex scandal. As if the story doesn't already consume every single informational outlet available, some dude lounging in his boxers in Dupont Circle feels he needs to feed the frenzy with his two-cents. Yawn. Get over yourself. Some of us read personal blogs to get away from all that madness.
So here's my take on the whole Spitzer matter:
I need to join an underground prostitution ring.
Clearly there is a market for it, and based on reports, they pay very well for just a few hours of grimacing.
To be honest, I didn't realize how many professional whores there are in this area (I mean, those that make you pay). I've totally been missing out and I live in the heart of whore central, apparently. But, are there any prostitution rings that cater to the distinguished homosexual? ...Cuz, obviously, I would have a hard time performing a little cunny on, say, Senator Barbara Mikulski?
If there are -- and I'm guaranteed complete veto power over my dates (cuz, let's face it, men with the likes of Larry Craig and Dick Morris would only end up complaining to upper whore management that I retched during our entire lovemaking transaction, which would likely tarnish the underground whore ring's reputation and lead to my immediate dismissal), and I'm also given complete veto power of what and who gets touched, licked, sucked, penetrated and spanked (cuz I have standards), and I was assured the client was free of genital parasites, and I got to keep the majority of the fee, and I signed a waver that my professional pimp would take the fall if they got busted -- then I would totally consider applying for a part-time job in a prostitution ring. It would have to be upscale, though. I ain't no crack whore. Again, I'm a whore with standards -- just ask my partner.
If a powerful, horny politician or minister wants to pay 4K for a few hours of consensual sodomy with me, and they escape my power of veto -- then spank my ass and call me a whore, I don't care. My whore ass will have paid off my mortgage and retired early, while you're still droning away in your judgmental cubicle, reading Suze Orman books and surfing porn on company time.
The benefits clearly outweigh the minor irritation I might feel receiving a two-hour rim job from Senator Sleazebag. Hell, I might even be able to convince him to pass a bill officially recognizing a certain day with the holiday of my choice.
Seriously, send this whore (with standards) an application.
Posted by durban bud at 11:20 AM | Comments (13)
March 09, 2008
Sweet Jesus, Will Someone Please Stop Roland Emmerich from Destroying All That is Good & Gay?
To prove not all gay filmmakers make quirky, thought-provoking, art-house flicks...we have Roland Emmerich, the big-budget film director of several successful cinematic stool samples.
He can't possibly be gay.
The same man who gave us one of the biggest dumb-straight-guy-saves-the-world-by-blowing-up-tons-of-shit movies of all time, "Independence Day", AND also directed the oh-my-god-this-is-so-stupid-and-fake-that-it-makes-me-cheer-for-the-extinction-of-polar-bears film, "The Day After Tomorrow," actually prefers the scent of dudes. I know, shocking, huh? How embarrassing. Next thing we'll find out is Jim Belushi was spotted shirtless at Blowoff.
If those disaster movies weren't bad enough, he also directed the most recent remake of "Godzilla". And now we can thank him for assaulting our visual senses once again with the just-released and obvious Best Picture contender for next year's Oscars, "10,000 BC". Would someone please inject her with some estrogen, stat?
Sure, his films have made a few bucks, but, as a homo, he must have some semblance of artistic integrity, no? I mean, he's also German. If my Big Muscle Bears profile search of German men is any indication, they're all about artistic integrity, especially when it comes to body piercings and breathing control.
And if the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered, Fafafini, Katoey & Queer Rights Task Force Alliance for Justice League honors him with the Jm J. Bullock Award of Gay Courage in Cinema at their annual dinner this year, I am totally canceling my membership.
I know we gays come in all different flavors (like, for example, I'm pistachio), and we frequently defy stereotypes, but we don't always have to when it's at the expense of our own self-respect. None of us want one of our queer brothers and sisters to leave the same cinematic legacy as Michael Bay, do we? We must adhere to stricter standards or we will eventually live in a world where our only sources of entertainment are Terry Bradshaw sitcoms and Sylvester Stallone retreads.
Let me put this into a perspective we can better identify with. Let's say Wal-Mart offered me a job as the assistant parking lot security manager for Lots G-L during the late shift, with a decent hourly wage (and even a prescriptions-only benefit, but only if I were married to a woman, monogamous and attended church twice a week) -- I would first ask who submitted a bogus application in my name and then I would turn it down immediately.
I have homosexual standards and talents that would be better served and not stifled in a more enlightened environment. And if I still wanted a gig as an assistant security manager of a parking lot, I would seek it elsewhere. Bland, commercial, antiquated, corrupt, and poorly logo-designed companies just do not make for a happy, productive, creative homosexual. And that's exactly what's happening to our poor Roland. He's clearly unhappy and it shows in his work. But because he surrounds himself with studio heads who only tell him what he wants to hear (very Britney, actually), he doesn't see the dire global consequences to our edgy cinematic reputation.
If I were his boyfriend, I would have a heart-to-heart intervention with him. I would tell him straight up:
Me: "Ro, baby...we need to talk. You know how I like to keep it real witchu, right?"
Roland Emmerich: "Yeah, pook...that's what I like about you. There's nothing CGI about you."
Me: "Exactly, Ro. And there doesn't have to be CGI in everything you do either, know what I'm sayin'? So baby...please, for the love of Christ, stop using CGI...cuz, in all honesty, babe, it makes Clash of the Titans look flawless."
Roland Emmerich: "That hurts, cubby. CGI is what all the kids want these days."
Me: "No they don't. George Lucas single-handedly destroyed that desire with the Star Wars prequels a few years ago."
Roland Emmerich: "Oh really? Then why did all those movies make so much money?"
Me: "Because we thought he knew what he was doing; we believed in him. Plus, most of us just saw those movies to watch C3PO deliver his witty one-liners. He's one of the best gay droids out there, next to Anderson Cooper."
Roland Emmerich: "But I have made decent non-CGI films before. Don't forget, I also directed The Patriot."
Me: "And, remind me again, who was the star of that film?"
Roland Emmerich: "Mel Gibson."
Me: "Exactly. Look Ro, I believe you have talent, but you don't always have to destroy the world to prove that you're not one of those nelly fags, okay? I mean, we totally get it now. You're totally a straight-acting, no fems, no fatties, kind of guy. We get it. But you can still think outside the box. Try making films under $150 million dollars for starters. Bryan Singer has done it. Gus Van Zant has done it. Kimberly Peirce has done it. I'm not saying you need to make another Harvey Milk biopic or a courtroom drama about a pre-op-transsexual who sues Cracker Barrel for discrimination or any gay-themed film, for that matter. But you should consider making a film with an actual point, a decent script and no special effects for a change."
Roland Emmerich: "Oh, that's so harsh, babe. I feel sick to my stomach. No anal tonight."
Me: "I'm just keepin' it real, Ro, cuz I love you, and I know you can do better. You possess a quality none of your straight counterparts could ever have, and that's the unique, creative mo-jo we homosexuals were born with. Don't ever waste that gift."
But I'm not his boyfriend. And he's way too obsessed with blowing up the world to change; it's like his only creepy mission in life. He's like a gay Dick Cheney.
So let's find out what his next film titled "2012" is about:
"2012 was inspired by the Mayan doomsday prophecy that some unspecified 'change' was afoot and as a result, the world would come to an end in 2012."
I give up.
Posted by durban bud at 05:33 PM | Comments (9)
March 05, 2008
Zombie
I'll be back shortly.
Just a quick post to say thank you for all the nice words you've said, emailed or texted (lame!). Seriously, thanks, they've meant a lot. If I were Irish, I would say, "tanks". BEARHUG and a fanny pat.
Posted by durban bud at 05:50 PM