« March 2008 | Main | May 2008 »
April 29, 2008
Pissing on Your Pansies
I've been surfing around trying to find out what's happening on a bunch of sites I rarely visit. Some political blogs are just as annoying as they were last time I visited and swore them off. Sweet Jesus, some well-respected people need to dismount from their high-horse and pull the thong wedgie out of their ass. Srsly, shut up and take a chill pill. I noticed the kids are writing srsly now, so for this week, I'm all srsly. K, thanks.
It's so funny sad how some writers these days are foaming at the mouth and ranting away at all the evil, mean politicians and pundits, without taking one iota of responsibility for their role in this toxic environment.
I became interested in politics when I was a blossoming young homosexual watching Pat Buchanan at the Republican National Convention skewer Bill Clinton and Al Gore as being the most pro-gay ticket in history -- and oh-the-horror of that! What I witnessed was scary. For the first time in my life, I saw a couple guys actually reach out to misfits like myself, and this Buchanan guy was telling an enthusiastically supportive audience what a detriment to society a pro-gay ticket would cause.
I never wanted to commit to a particular club. I registered as an Independent, but have always supported the candidate who believes that my core-being is not some inherent threat and disgust to society. I think that's important. The Dems have mostly stepped up to the plate on this issue. Not always, but more often than not. Sure -- health care, the environment, taxes, Supreme Court nominees, euthanasia and flag burning are important as well, but treating me as an equal or at least close to an equal is a top priority for this silly man-boy. Call me crazy.
So I've tried to get involved in the last few election cycles and educate myself as best I can.
One thing this long campaign has brought to my attention is that there are indeed shrill, hysterical blowhards on both ends of the political spectrum -- complete with conspiracy theories! And some of these people, I used to highly respect. If you can back up some of these theories with facts, I'll glady take it into consideration -- but conspiracy after conspiracy to bash the other candidate kills any semblance of credibility you may have had.
It was more difficult to notice their true blowhardedness in past election cycles because progressives were always climbing an uphill battle and mostly all on the same page. But the first time we get a number of worthy candidates, we become entitled, self-righteous douchebags. Some of these blowhards are one small Adam's apple away from becoming the left's very own version of Ann Coulter. Of course they don't even realize it -- or would ever acknowledge it -- cuz they're too enamored with themselves and the thought that they are right and anyone who dissents is the enemy -- including those supportive of their party.
Some people feel Clinton is a diabolical, ruthless robot who is to blame for authorizing Bush's war, and who will stop at nothing to gain power and further cement a dynasty for future generations. Others believe Obama is a well-manufactured, human form of The Ssssecret -- also Oprah endorsed! -- complete with touchy-feely words and die-hard, zombie followers who truly think if they just hope -- without actually questioning the authenticity and ability to realize his words into action in the real world -- all will be well and good.
I think both Democratic candidates are worthy of the nominee. But calling someone an elitist and racist, or drudging up Sean Hannity talking points about Whitewater and Monica, only make you look like a desperate hypocrite and piss off the other voters you so desperately need to secure a win for your candidate. I also think the surprise of the likable and Independent-friendly McCain getting the Republican nomination threw a wrench into the Dems' sure-bet road to victory and caused a panic.
Anyone who thinks that either of the candidates are not ridiculously-funded, poll-driven actors is severely delusional. And both of these candidates are incredible actors. But underneath all that scripted bravado and "I'm just like you" bullshit are two people who, I believe, genuinely want to help this country get back on track. It may not be popular to say, but I include McCain in that as well.
So take a deep breath, stop throwing around hysterical, vicious vitriol and mind your manners.
Then again, what the hell do I know??? I'm no well-spoken political science major.
Well I do know this, courtesy of something I learned in '00 and '04: It will all come down to Ohio, Florida, and maybe to a lesser extent, Pennsylvania -- again. Srsly.
Posted by durban bud at 12:10 AM | Comments (15)
April 28, 2008
Riding on Bikes with Boys
Mister Fister came to visit us again. We rode bikes to take advantage of the beautiful weather and tour some of the sights we take for granted.
Here we are down on the Mall in front of the Capitol showing our patriotism. I shaved my goatee off so I will have fresh roots for the summer. Plus, the crusty stains were annoying. There is a small amount of chin scruff left over, but around my lips is now smooth like a twink's bottom. I hope the BitterBears won't hiss at me in the interim. Mister Fister asked that I cover his face to maintain his anonymity. Sure, no prob.
Okay, it's not that smooth now, but it was yesterday!
Anyway, they were setting up for some some religious concert or something in front of the Capitol. There were two large banners hanging from each side of the stage. One said "REPENT" and the other said "BELIEVE." Hmm. Was it an Obama fundraiser? I dunno. I wanted to get a photo but the others in my tribe wouldn't take part. There was also a prayer walk happening. Not sure what that involves. Maybe you mumble softly over and over, "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and please guide my feet up and down so I can get from point A to point B without too many cramps."
It took five years, but here we are thanking the Supreme Court for decriminalizing sodomy:
When I saw this photo, I realized it would be perfect for my band's next album cover:
And this makes me sad:
I'm sure this is an oversight by the government. I mean, I'm sure they plan to take better care of the huge land areas that encompass our historic monuments, right? Surely the intelligent minds that inhabit our city's legislative offices would want to make the best impression possible to the world. It's only April, so it'll prolly look fantastic next month after they're done reviewing all the landscaping proposals.
Despite having to ice my taint the remainder of the weekend, I had a blast touring the city in which I live.
Posted by durban bud at 12:02 AM | Comments (11)
April 25, 2008
The Bears Love Harris Teeter
In keeping with my grocery store theme this week...Harris Teeter just opened a few blocks from me. I had no idea. I rarely venture into Adams Morgan behind 18th Street. But I will now! It's lookin' mighty purty in that area. It's even a few blocks closer than the Soviet Safeway, and much closer than Whole Foods. And since it's like a combo of the two -- yay!
It's an awesome place to get both organic, free-range, low-carb, imported hemp spinach AND Rice Krispie treats if you have the munchies. Yay!
I don't think they are really promoting it yet. There was hardly anyone there. Yay! It was a beautiful thing. I did run into a bear friend who was loitering out front, sniffing and roaring, with foam dripping around his mouth. No doubt, the scent of fresh, mercury-free salmon lured him out of his den. Also, they were handing out a ton of sausage samples with li'l toothpicks. When I saw him, I was all, "raaaaahhhhh," and he was all, "raaaahhhhh! Me hungggggg-ray!" Then we sniffed each other and I mounted him. Yay!
Why do grocery stores play obscure songs from the '80's and '90's? I love it, though. As you're searching for some reduced-fat, tomato & basil feta cheese, you can rack your brain trying to figure out what song is playing. It's fun. While I was there, I heard Peter Gabriel's "Steam," Nu Shooz's "Point of No Return" and Bruce Springsteen's "Tunnel of Love." Yay!
I encourage all of you in the 'hood to check it out NOW. They are offering some really good deals for the grand opening and bein' all super friendly and shit. Evvvveryone says hi and asks if they can help you find something. Did you hear that Safeway? It's 'tude-free (at least this week)! Go now! Oh, and they are giving out free samples, even of some of their desserts! Yay! Of course, I didn't take any cuz Gwenyth Paltrow wouldn't touch that toxicity.
I give this place four bear paws. Muscle bear paws, of course.
Three grocery stores are now in walking distance. Now I just need a Wegmans nearby and my grocery list will be complete.
Posted by durban bud at 11:16 AM | Comments (15)
April 23, 2008
Whole Foods and the Art of Deceit
I'm doing my best Price is Right model impression here. Maybe Janice?
We picked up some protein powder a couple weeks ago at Whole Foods. I do shop at grocery stores occasionally, y'know. Rob picked up another container of the same stuff the other day. I asked why he did that when we just bought some. He said it was all gone. Hmm. That's odd. We haven't made that many smoothies since the original purchase. I opened the new container and realized the problem:
I stuck a ruler inside and discovered a 4-inch gap between the top and the actual product of interest. LIES! How dare you fool me! That also seems very wasteful for a company that professes to care about the environment, no? I can only imagine how many trees were murdered and how many babies are choking on the greenhouse gas emissions caused by their little scheme. Baby killers.
It gets worse. I cursed all things Whole Foodie while making myself another WELL-RATIONED protein smoothie using soymilk. When I finished drinking it, Rob dropped this bombshell on me:
"You do know that soymilk causes men to grow breasts, right?"
WHAT!?!
Stunned and shaking, I reached down to my man-tit and squeezed. Sure enough, I could feel what felt like a little bean water. Oh God, WHYYYYYYYYY? I have been drinking it for weeks. I love it! MmmMmm. So why was this not mentioned, oh, I don't know, MONTHS AGO?!? I'm sure he's doing this for his own benefit, probably so he can secure a segment on Oprah, where he can be seen as the compassionate and doting partner of The Guy With Tits. Awwww. Guess what? It won't happen.
I see what's going on. Whole Foods is bankrupting us with pretty deceitful containers and soymilkers are obliterating our self-esteem. The demise of gay men is strategically manufactured. Game over, man. Game over.
What's next?!?
Posted by durban bud at 10:13 AM | Comments (16)
April 21, 2008
All Gay San Francisco Boys Have iPhones
A bunch of former DC boys who moved to San Fran made a return visit to our beautiful city this past weekend. I got to see Matty and T.Todd. They were all iPhonin' and bein' all iPhabulous with their iPhones. They were showing me pics they took with their magical iPhones. They would just swipe the screen with a finger to move to the next picture. It was so magical. Occasionally they would talk to me.
T.Todd informed me that our dear sweet Bailey lost his battle with cancer. He was our favorite adopted dog. He spent several months with us the past decade while his daddy was on the road fightin' the good fight. So Bailey's in doggy heaven now, licking the floors non-stop, I'm sure. Are there floors in doggy heaven? Hmm. I hope Jesus does something about his separation anxiety.
I've posted this photo ad nauseum, but it's still my favorite. He was my buddy and this picture sums it up well.
He's pursing his lips, too!
Speaking of animals...my friends Tos and Mr. Bartender need your support to save the animals! Both of them have set up personal donation pages to help the cause.
Please take a few moments and drop some change (even just $5) into their piggy banks. I don't ask for much, so please do it for me -- oh, and for the animals, too. See, I give back. That's what I do. It may take a long time but I eventually give back. So please give back. It's time for you to give back, isn't it? Give back, so you can tell people that you gave back. They'll be jealous. If you tell them that you gave back while you're holding an iPhone, they'll be gritting their teeth with envy.
Some people stop me on the street and ask, "How do I get to the metro?" I point and say, "It's right thurr, right thurr."
Others stop me in an aisle at Safeway and say, "Dude, I dig your blog. I'm a huge Dungeons and Dragons geek, so it's awesome to have another D & D geek representin' us like you do, Jimbo." And I'm all, "Your mother sux cocks in hell."
Still others yell from their SUVs, "Yo, can you give me a graphical interpretation of your mind?" And I'm all, "Not now, honey. Boundaries."
But friend and fellow blogboy Sean has done a great interpretation of what occurs in my mind...and I didn't even ask him to do it. He released these designs recently via his secretworm label. Love his designs. You can get this, among many other cool T-shirt designs here. If you buy one there is a catch, though. If I see you out and I'm wearing the same t-shirt as you, you have to take it off. Fair is fair.
These are heavily resized, so please visit the site to see better quality images. Buy his cool stuff so you can look cool for the cool summer.
I need to retire my MySpace account. I rarely use it. I belong to enough of these sites. It's all about Facebook these days! Everyone knows that. Now, MySpace is copying Facebook with something called "Friend Status" so you can keep track of what your friends are doing. The problem arises when you realize you don't know half of the people listed as your friends.
Check out this friend status update from my MySpace page and see if you can spot which one is not like the others. I've blackened out the names to protect the innocent:
Wow.
None of my friends would say that. Actually, that's not true. They totally would. I admire his honesty, but I don't know the guy. That was a sign, I think.
It's all about Facebook, people. All the gay San Francisco iPhone boys have Facebook accounts. They also donate to worthy causes. Therefore, so should you.
Posted by durban bud at 10:45 AM | Comments (14)
April 17, 2008
Dear Mr. Jesus
Posted by durban bud at 10:01 PM | Comments (20)
April 16, 2008
X
It's a sneakerarm.
Posted by durban bud at 08:43 AM | Comments (7)
April 14, 2008
Meatball
My weekends have been very low-key lately, which is fine. I need to behave and concentrate solely on centering my chi, working out for judgment season, watching my caloric intake like a gay Gwenyth Paltrow man-boy, nourishing my mind with Logo documentaries and escorting. So I don't have any dirt to dish about the Margaret Cho show last Friday or who got felt up in the Saliva Pit on Saturday.
Instead, my domesticated weekends include exhilarating banter like this:
"Did you eat the meatball?"
"No, I did not eat the meatball."
"We had four meatballs left over from dinner last night and there are only three now."
"I did not eat the meatball. You must have eaten the meatball."
"No, you ate the meatball, because I didn't. You probably got up in the middle of the night and went sleep-eating."
"I did not sleep-eat! I would remember eating the meatball! Stop trying to use Jedi mind-tricks on me. I will not fall for it, again."
"I can't believe you ate the meatball."
"You ate the stupid meatball."
Seriously, I didn't eat the meatball -- which was a turkey meatball, btw...cuz I'm a gay Gwenyth.
We're always keeping our eyes open for a potential dog adoption on our weekends. Clyde's lovely owner asked us if we would be interested in meeting Clyde's 4-year-old niece, Blue, to consider. Blue is also an American Bulldog, but since she is a female, she is much smaller. We were also told she does not share Clyde's affection for murdering other dogs. Cool. We'll meet her.
Blue is a ball of nervous energy. Way too nervous. She also has incedibly large nipples that hang like udders. She has never had puppies so this is odd. I told the owner that we would probably change her name to Nips. She didn't laugh. I wasn't kidding. As trivial as it seemed, I knew the udders would create tension in the household and milk stains. And, as if the Baby Jesus was reading my mind, he intervined to poo-poo the situation. He must have whispered in her dog ear, cuz Blue took a dump on our living room floor. Aaaaaand we're done here. Thanks for your order, please drive through.
The weather is finally on the up and up around these parts. Supposed to be sunny all week, getting warmer each day. 77 on Friday! I may get some of my masc/musc meatballs together for some shirtless badminton this weekend.
Posted by durban bud at 03:27 PM | Comments (13)
April 10, 2008
Red Light District
I need your help.
Because of my visits to Amsterdam, a few people have asked me to mention some cool sights for them to see on their upcoming visits. But I am not very good at offering advice in this field. I am notorious for my navigational retardation and I tend to just follow where I am led. "TJ, isn't this World War II memorial simply stunning?!?" "MmmHmm."
First and foremost, I would suggest steering clear of the touristy areas near Central Station. Seek out some quieter streets, walk around and soak in the beautiful architecture.
The obvious things to do: Anne Frank House, Van Gogh Museum, Vondelpark, the Cockring, a canal tour, gay 'hoods like Warmoestraat, Reguliersdwarstraat, Amstel or Kerkstraat, and a quick stroll through the Red Light District before it is no longer there.
Try not to smoke yourself silly when visiting. There is much more to Amsterdam than pot and prostitutes. I'm serious! But if you must, and I know you must, head to the-not-so-gay-anymore Reguliersdwarstraat neighborhood and stop by the not-so-gay-anymore coffeeshop The Other Side for some cappuccino and conversation. There is also a non-touristy coffeeshop called Siberie that our Dutch friend used to "bartend" at. Great space, quiet, and they have fussball!
Oh, and do NOT eat the space cakes. They were specifically invented to fuck with naive Americans to give everyone a good laugh.
When we were there in December, we took my parents around the RLD to find some prostitutes in the windows. My mom was curious, okay? But we had trouble finding them. There were many windows, but no whores. Our Dutch friend informed us that the Russian mob was wreaking havoc on the industry, among others, so the Dutch government was buying up the whorehouses and closing them to counter this problem.
Newsweek recently profiled this sad state of affairs. Hurry and see the Red Light District before it's too late!
Thanks to our Dutch friend's tenacity and knowledge we did find a few to show my parents. A busty woman of who-knows-what descent pressed her mammaries against the glass window. My mom stopped and pointed, "Do you see her nipples? Something's not right with them." "Mom, keep moving!"
So if you can offer some of your own suggestions to help these future tourists, I would appreciate it.
Posted by durban bud at 03:42 PM | Comments (15)
April 09, 2008
Paging Calpernia
I read a few news stories this morning, ate a fresh New York City low-carb everything bagel I retrieved from my freezer, and stared out the window at yet another gloomy, grey day here in DC. Something didn't seem right. I felt unsettled, like something was missing in my life.
It took awhile, but as I was reading a Maureen Dowd column, it finally hit me like a ton of bricks.
I have no transgendered friends.
There is no T in my LGB world. None at all. How can this be? How can I possibly belong to an acronym that is not fully realized in my own life? Come to think of it, there is no B in my life either. At least, none that are openly B. I do have one gay friend from Minneapolis who occasionally dines on the fallopian fun box at swinger parties, but I think he only does that to look cool in front of the bros.
My real life only represents half of my assigned acronym. How pathetic. I am not celebrating diversity. I am celebrating fraud.
A strange consequence of belonging to a minority is that some non-minority people get off on saying, "I have a gay friend!" It shoots up their status as open-minded and accepting in their own mind. Sometimes they'll invite you to a barbecue with people you don't know, so they can whisper to their friends, "He's gay." And then they'll put their arm around you to further the appearance that they're totally cool with the whole gay thing. "Look at me. I'm not afraid to touch the gay." And then they ask you to pose for pictures so they can email them to their other non-minority friends and throw in the casual photo caption: "Barbecue April '08 with Bobbie, Sue, Mary, TJ (my gay friend) and Jason".
I get it. I, too, thrive on being all diverse and shit.
Last month, I went to the Korean convenience market down the street and ran into my Nepalese buddy who runs a local shipping shop. I don't really see him, except when I mail a package, but he was all hugs when he saw me at the market. The old Korean guy who works and owns the store is always good to me. So that particular night at his market, it was me, my Nepalese friend, the old Korean man and a black guy we often see around the neighborhood. We were all smiling and chatting and being all diverse and shit, when I thought, "Holy shit. Somebody grab a fucking camera and document this beautifulness. Look at me. Look at ME. My world is filled with harmony rainbows and Benneton bon-bons." Everything played out in slow motion as Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World" played in my mind. I just smiled and smiled, savoring the moment and hoping some of my friends would catch a glimpse of their awesome and accepting friend chatting it up with a variety of minorities.
I finally left and was halfway home when I heard someone yelling at me. I turned around and saw the old Korean man running towards me, smiling. "You fo'got cahd!" He handed my credit card to me, shook his finger in my face and gave a stern warning. "You can't leave deez behine. Black peoples will take."
So, yeah, not everyone celebrates diversity like I do, but anyway...
I still have no transsexual friends to pose in pictures with. Where's my Calpernia? I'm tooooootally cool with it.
Posted by durban bud at 03:50 PM | Comments (18)
April 08, 2008
Size Queens
Apparently I have an older demographic I need to suck up to. A gentle reader who called me Sweetcheeks (I love that!) asked if I would consider increasing the font-size on my blog so it would be easier for older people like him to read. I was like, "Old people read my blog?" Hmm. He's only 53. That's hardly old -- a guy in his 50's is working his Delicious Daddy Development Decade. I guess people have trouble with their eyes as they age. They complain of having to squint or something. That's what LASIK is for, honey. Everything is fixable these days -- unless you're Joan Van Ark. I say bring on all the ravages of aging. In five years, the Germans will put a few pills on the market that will erase crow's feet, re-grow head hair, remove belly fat, and restore brain cells destroyed by the overindulgences the homosexual lifestyle forces upon us. So I'm not worried. Pharmacology is a gay man's best friend.
LASIK is already around to cure bad eyes. I was told I'm a wonderful candidate for this procedure. I do need it. I can read my small font-size just fine, but I do have to wear glasses to watch porn. So degrading. But detail is key in these instances. Unfortunately health insurance doesn't cover LASIK. So typical. I can't afford it. Oh, I know. Please donate to my tip jar to help fund my LASIK surgery. I really need your support! What's that? I don't have a tip jar? Oh. Hmmm. Remind me again why I do this? Oh, that's right. I'm sick.
I do wonder if anyone in their 70's or older ever read this site. I doubt it. I think my language would turn most of them off, since old people don't swear. I know this cuz The Golden Girls never called each other "fucking whores" or "cunt lips" or even "shithead". Though, that would have been awesome. It would be cool to hear some 80-year-olds regularly drop "betch" or "buttsex" in their brunch conversations after church. Do 80-year-olds even have buttsex? Hmm. I wonder what that looks like. Let's all close our eyes and take a moment to ponder that scenario.
Keep picturing it.
And again.
You're still not done.
Okay, pencils down.
Wow. That was weird. For some reason, buttsex between 80-year-olds smelled like Ben-Gay in my mind. Did that happen to you too?
Sorry, back to the main topic. When I asked if the font-size bothered anyone else, I received an email from another blogger who said he was actually discussing my font-size with yet another blogger a couple months ago. Bloggers are notorious for surrounding themselves with other bloggers and gossiping. It's like some creepy carpal-tunnel cult. The other blogger said, "I can't read his site anymore; the fonts just too daggum small for my big bear bad eyes." It would be nice if people informed me of any concerns or issues that could potentially benefit the site, instead of trashing my font-size behind my back. Who else has been talkin' font smack? I'm sure a bunch of sassy bears at Blowoff were all, "OMG - his font-size is so stoooopid. Who could even read that? Mini-me? AHAHAHAHA! No, gurl, only ladybugs with ladybug bi-focals could read that teeny-tosity! AHAHAHAHA! Oh, you so funny, gurl. Uh-oh, could you groom me now? I think I got a tick."
So speak up. Feedback is key. It doesn't mean I'll care, but it's good to file under my "know" file in my brain near my hippocampus.
Most browsers do give you the option to adjust the text size. A Page Options link should be at the top somewhere. Click it, choose Text Size and then Larger. But some people don't know this or it's just too daggum overwhelming to perform.
Since aging creates size queens and I am a people pleaser, I bumped up the font-size to hopefully assist the squinters. Let me know what you think of this exciting change. Hopefully most people won't even notice or care. But if it looks to you like a children's book or something David Paterson could read with ease as his mistress fellates his goverment cheese at a Days Inn -- I would like to know.
Posted by durban bud at 12:31 PM | Comments (22)
April 06, 2008
A Hot Mess
Hi! I just finished a conference call with The Internet, Miss Manners, and forgotten Best Supporting Actress Nominee for The Color Purple, Margaret Avery. Yes, she's still around. Despite what you think, she is not curled up in the fetal position, drooling and mumbling, "Goddamn you, Oprah." That would be me. Instead, she now takes the minutes for our quarterly meetings.
We all agreed that the phrase "a hot mess" and all of its variations like "hot tranny mess" are to be retired by April 30th. Sorry! I know this is short notice, but it's for the best, really. So feel free to constantly blurt it out amongst your co-workers or Top Chef party peoples to appear in the know with pop culture jargon -- but just remember, come May 1st, you will be breaking a rule and eventually fined and shamed. Use it before you lose it. The moment, you own it. Don't ever let it go, go, go (until the end of the month).
We also discussed the pros and cons of the continued use of "just sayin'". The Internet and Margaret Avery stood up for its rightful usage, while Miss Manners and I argued that the phrase remains far too ambivalent to merit inclusion within the confines of proper Internet discourse. To compromise, the term may still be used BUT it must be written between quotes. This will help communicate to us that you are well aware that it is so yesterday (tip of the hat to Ms. Hilary Duff), but that you still enjoy its tongue in cheek snarkiness. We respect that. I think it's a fair compro.
I see many of you did not get the memo about the moratorium on LOL last December. Tsk, tsk. To trick me, you've added a Z on the end so it reads LOLZ! Nice try, but you can't fool me. I know what that means. It means you're in violation of the Standards and Practices of Humane Internet Communication Etiquette, 2007. Cameras (similar to red-light speed cameras) have been set up on the interwebs and fines are being mailed. Be warned, pictures will be taken right after the offense occurs. Three-strike violators will feel a shortness of breath and a burning sensation in their throats as they are turned into zombies as punishment (not including fines). Perez Hilton Cum Drips® will also be applied to your photo to signify the severity of your misdeeds. A recent example taken by these necessary cameras can be seen here.
Up for review next meeting: Is Facebook poking really the final nail in the real human interaction coffin, resulting in the eventual dissolution of friendships, or, is it, like I believe, a great way to keep in contact wihout having to write an exhaustive sentence in an email just to say hi? We will also ponder the honesty of "You're in my thoughts and prayers." A lot of people say it, but do they actually follow through with a thought and a prayer about you? We think not. We feel many people are lying and abusing this phrase, so it must be reviewed. Also on next meeting's agenda: "WhatEVs", "black don't crack", "hit me up", "Obamarama", and the overkill of LOLcat image use (though, I will continue to fight for the occasional use of LOLbunny images...so cute).
Posted by durban bud at 01:02 PM | Comments (17)
April 04, 2008
Yellow, Oval-Shaped Pills
Oh, this is lovely.
The other day my stomach was burning. I figured it was the direct result of eating crap the past few weeks. I got up in the middle of the night to take a Protonix, a wonderful drug my doctor gave me months ago to offset the firepit that sometimes erupts in my belly, due to the pain and misery of being in my thirties. There were only two left in the container. When I woke up a few hours later, I had a really bad headache and my espohagus felt like I had consumed sixteen margaritas. Hmm. That's odd. So I stumbled to the bathroom, found the container with one yellow, oval-shaped pill left and took another to combat the latest onset of pain.
This morning I had an even worse headache, my face was flushed and my espohagus felt like I had, instead, done twenty straight shots of tequila. Protonix is usually amazing for erasing this type of pain, so I went to refill the prescription. When I grabbed the empty container to call the pharmacy, I noticed the label...Cialis. Oops.
Not good. I called Rob immediately and naturally he was concerned about my health, "OMG - what a waste!"
Ugh. I thought it was odd that I had a massive erection from stirring ravioli, and again, later, reading CNN headlines.
I know, I know -- why would we have boner pills in our household? We're not Lou Dobbs. I think it's pretty safe to say that most gay men who have gay doctors stock up on these little jewels at least once a couple years just in case. Yes, we're that piggy. But obviously I don't use them enough to know their exact texture and whatnot. And now I'm all out. :(
My throat is on fire and I have a major migraine, but I'm totally ready to dig a hole to China. What a waste, indeed.
Posted by durban bud at 02:36 PM | Comments (16)
April 03, 2008
The Golden Girls
Rob's mother and aunt left yesterday after staying here for a week. Despite my trepidation (and sleeping on a sofa bed), it went very well. In fact, I would totally consider getting two women in their 60's as roommates. They're so neat and tidy! They even do this thing where they hand wash dishes right after using them. It's insane!
A few weeks ago, me, Rob and our really gay Jewish friend Greg went to a Brazilian restaurant called Fogo de Chão. You pay a fixed price and a bunch of Brazilian waiters come by and serve you a hunk of 15 different meats whenever you're ready for another oink-fest. Dawson would feel right at home here! Basically it's a restaurant that specializes in obesity and heart disease. It's a unique, bloody good experience that I would recommend once every 3 years, providing you follow it with a colonic.
Anyway, I flipped my table card to green to signal the waiter that I was ready for my eleventh piece of cow. He came over and sliced the meat off of a skewer. He told me to grab the tweezer utensil they provide you with. But it didn't matter. As he sliced it off, it fell into the plate of blood under the meat causing a mass splattering onto me. Total. Carrie. Moment. And. Not. The. Sarah. Jessica. Parker. Kind. My beautiful blue button-down shirt I bought for a $15 fortune at Marshalls was now reddish-brown. The waiter apologized profusely. I said, "It's okay, OJ. You're Brazilian, so I love you regardless." If you ever go to Fogo de Chão, make sure you take the necessary precautions. Pretend you're going to a Gallagher show. We snapped this photo of the aftermath. So gross.
When I explained the incident to my new roommates, they became fixated on getting the stains out of my beautiful blue button-down shirt I bought for a $15 fortune at Marshalls. I had already attempted to get the stains out to no avail. They recommended a stain stick, buying something called "Era", soaking it, running it through the wash again and air-drying it. And you know what? It worked. Women in their 60's are so handy to have around. I would totally adopt one. Is that possible?
Since we like our guests to be comfortable, we let Rob's mom have control of the television for the week. Big mistake. We watched Dancing with the Stars - the Results. Wow. Have you seen this madness? It was like an acid trip live on the telly. Insane! There was Kylie Minogue. There was the adorable Steve Guttenberg dancing with a guy. There was some African dance troupe or something. There was a juiced up Ricki Lake or something. There was Marlee Matlin magically working a Cochlear implant or something. There was Kylie Minogue again. There was this guy on his 4th hit of ecstacy:
And then there was this:
This show must cause seizures in some people. I had to do some Kegel exercises just to calm down. It totally worked, but now my pussy hurts. :(
Anyway, our latest guests have left. Mister Fister has come and gone. And now that my winter hibernation has once again come to a close...I can concentrate on cooking at home and getting back on a regular gym schedule. Ugh. It was so much easier to shed winter pig pounds during a weekend meth binge. But it's just not really practical. So maybe I'll see you at the gym or the farmer's market or a colonic salon this spring. It's how we gays operate before bikini season.
Oh, and for the record, I was Sophia. Rob was Blanche, of course.
Posted by durban bud at 10:58 AM | Comments (10)