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June 30, 2008
Baby, Please Don't Kill Me to Collect My Life Insurance
We didn't go to the beach this past weekend. Someone wasn't feeling well; plus, it was supposed to rain ALL weekend.
It was sunny and rained all of five minutes the entire weekend. Thanks, weathermen!
Instead, we watched a Dateline mystery. It was about a man who pushed his wife off a cliff so he could collect her life insurance and start his life anew.
The story made me feel unsettled. I looked at Rob and asked what any normal guy would ask his sodomy partner, "Baby, you're not ever going to push me in front of a Metro Bus, are you?" He assured me, "No, my little cocoa puff. I will not murder you." "You promise, schnoogie woogie?" "I promise, sweet nectar of my gay melon." Pheeew...no murder for me (by him) -- yay!
I think it's important for all couples to have "The Talk," just to be clear about your goals for the future. Communication is key, they say.
So me and my non-murdering partner went to finally see Sex & the City so we could get all carried away and whatnot.
We thought it would be a good time to see it, what with all the girls and gays having already seen it. MmmHmm. The joint was packed. But thanks to my custom of arriving a half an hour before showtime, we got good seats, while all the other girls and gays had to split up and sit in between people they didn't know. Should have planned better, cupcake.
There were plenty of men in attendance. So much so, that the woman sitting next to me asked, "This is for Sex & the City, right?" "Oh, it sure is, sssweetie. It sure issssss."
About five hours later, I was no longer getting carried away. I was thinking of ways for Carrie to off Big to collect his life insurance.
The Regal Cinemas downtown are a great place to see movies -- except when there's an event at the Verizon Center. An event there leads to people loitering and being all loud, while I'm just trying to mentally escape from it all. "Shut up and get out mah way! You're harshin' my chi!"
Because of the high price of gasoline, and our desire to be labeled greenies, we took the metro to the theater. Also, we don't own a car.
The green line is especially convenient when we need to head downtown -- except when there's an event at the Verizon Center. I think this time, though, there might have been another type of event happening around the Convention Center. Several people were wearing baseball caps with just a W on them. George Bush supporters, no doubt.
One guy yelled, "Hey, does anyone know what the final score of the game was?" I was all, "No idea. But in the game of life, Carrie won Big time!"
I heard Rob mutter, "How much is your life insurance worth again?"
I would like to offer this blog into future evidence.
Posted by durban bud at 12:20 PM | Comments (14)
June 25, 2008
Road Trip
Whenever I take a long road trip with my partner, I'm reminded why I have no desire to get married. I really like having the luxury of pulling the car over, pointing and saying firmly, yet with love, "GET THE HELL OUT OF THE CAR...NOWWWWW!" without any legal or financial ramifications.
If it's a trip we've traveled often, we rarely have any problems. But if it's a new excursion, the likelihood is very high that we will not be speaking to each other and all of our fingernails will be broken by the time we reach our destination.
Last weekend we took a road trip to Raleigh, NC to attend my friend Bobbie's birthday party for her 4-year-old son -- which was off the fuckin' chain, yo. I had not seen her since she gave birth to this kid, so I definitely wanted to be there to see if she kept off all the baby weight. Plus, given the location, I wanted to see how many of the kids were already hooked on meth and take some photos.
Because the trip was to visit one of MY original friends, I was in charge of renting the car, planning the trip and driving. The other one brings along items we may need and serves as map reader, if so called upon. That's just the way we've always done it when traveling to family and friends. Seems fair. But neither of us are very organized, so the trips are never boring.
I won't even go into the car rental fiasco with two prominent agencies, but I will say an $85 reservation quote for a 27-hour car rental from "Budget" somehow ended up costing $245 -- including the credits I demanded upon return. Budget? Hilarious!
Once settled, our trip finally began three hours behind schedule.
We traveled through Richmond unscathed, until the rain came a-poundin' down. It stopped. And started. And stopped. And started. Once again, the sun was shining through most of these hail storms. Have you ever tried to keep an eye on the road while it's raining hard and you're wearing sunglasses to offset the bright sunlight and you're going like 65MPH and you're trying to figure out how to increase the wiper speed but instead you're adjusting the outside mirror and your boyfriend is blaring the Indigo Girls' first CD in its entirety even after you've pleaded for leniency and you can no longer see the driver's side mirror anymore because you accidentally changed its setting causing it to face downward? Try it -- it's fun!
Naturally we got lost.
Just so you know, the directions from Google Maps throws in names of streets that don't exist, specifically to tear apart relationships.
As the driver, I was hoping my partner -- in the firm of Butts, Dicks and Bodonkadonks, PLLC -- would serve as the chief navigator, but instead, he offered advice like, "I think you were supposed to take a right back there" and "I'm not familiar with roads in Raleigh. She's your friend." GET OUT...NOWWWW!
The party started at 6:00. It was now about, oh, say, 7:15 and still raining and we're pulled over in some gun shop parking lot trying to make sense of it all -- in silence.
I made a few frantic phone calls to Bobbie asking her to guide us to the desired location. Remember when we didn't have cell phones? How did we deal with situations like this then? I can't even remember. The horror! She seemed to be preoccupied with, y'know, hosting a party or something. She handed the phone over to some other party revelers to talk us me through the wet Raleigh maze, but before she did that, she added, "We're all waiting on you guys to get here before we let everyone have cake."
Bobbie could never get a job at OnStar with anxiety-producing comments like that.
After playing what seemed to be a GPS game of Marco Polo on the phone, our location was finally detected and we arrived in her neighborhood.
It resembled the neighborhood from Desperate Housewives, except without the Hispanics and gay couple -- at least until we arrived. We made it with about 15 minutes remaining of the party. Phew!
The rain subsided and the sun beamed brightly as we pulled into the cul-de-sac, littered with white married couples and their children staring us down with their hungry cake-eating faces.
"Hi, Y'all!"
Bobbie warned me in advance to be on my best behavior because many of these people had never seen a homosexual in person, much less two. What was she expecting me to do? Skip around her yard, throwing confetti like Rip Taylor, while squealing, "Sodomy is Ssssuper!" Actually, that would have been a hoot. Next time!
The majority in attendance were warm and friendly to us. Some, mainly women, even shook our hands! Others just nodded from a distance, mainly men.
The kids were adorable, if a bit loud and bossy. They were running all over the place, which made me pause. Hmmm. I looked for facial scabs and rotting teeth, but could not make an accurate diagnosis at the time. Tick. Tock.
The birthday boy was well-mannered and thankful to everyone. Good job, Bobbie! It's weird to see a close high-school friend I used to party hard with, now all grown up and settled with a husband, a kid and the perfect suburban home.
After the cake-eating portion of the event was over, Bobbie announced that it was gift-opening time and we were all to put our gifts in a pile for the birthday boy to open.
I looked at Rob, "You brought the gift, right?"
We continued not speaking the remainder of the evening.
Posted by durban bud at 1:42 AM | Comments (27)
June 19, 2008
Let's Fub it Out
I got caught in the pouring rain yesterday when I was walking errands. The sun was shining the entire time. It was the second time in less than a week I got blindsided by rain in the sunshine.
The weather has been very bizarre lately, like The Rapture is near or something, or maybe a Lindsay Lohan CD is about to "drop" soon.
Is this weirdness all a direct result of climate change? Hmm. Then I saw a large rainbow in the sky and figured The Almighty was just a bit late decorating for Pride month up there. He made a rainbow for us. Awww. Such a sweet furball, He is.
Sometimes during Pride (do I capitalize it?) month, people stop me on the treadmill and say:
"Hey TJ. Happy Pride, man."
"Awww, thanks. Happy Pride to you too!"
"I'm not gay, bro."
"Oh."
"Anyway, I was wondering how YOU are going to celebrate your homosexuality-ness this Pride month?"
"That's easy," I say. "A group of us gather at sunrise every Saturday morning in front of Annie's Steakhouse on 17th Street and sing "Seasons of Love" from Rent. We hold hands. We bond. We love. We sang."
Five hundred twenty-five thousand Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
It's quite beautiful and empowering, actually.
Then we hold a Paul-off, where we all do Paul Lynde impressions. Carl always wins. He would make a great center square. Ask him to do it sometime at Nellie's.
The neighborhood seems to be getting more...proud lately. I think someone is helping decorate the 'hood for these businesses.
Check out some local establishments (Adams National Bank, grAnnie's, Cobalt, The Video Rack (great porn!), Picasso Gallery Custom Framing and Dupont Italian Kitchen) that are high-fiving the gays. The pics are small but the colors speak volumes.
Hmm. Safeway doesn't have any rainbow love:
Neither does McDonald's:
Or this liquor store. But with that name, they are celebrating Pride year round:
I don't mind the rainbow "design" so much; I just think the Consortium on Gay Symbolism & Meaning -- not to be confused with The Consortium of Gay Flag Creators -- should tone down the colors a bit for the new millennium. Redesigns are important to keep it fresh and with the times. Otherwise the bright colors just seem like something Mr. Furley would have as a bed sheet. Know what I mean?
Anyway, we went to the festival on an absolutely gorgeous Sunday. I introduced "fubbing" to a friend and snapped a photo. As a reminder, fubbing is a non-sexual greeting where two guys rub their facial fur together when they meet up. I fubbed two dudes during Pride (still capitalized? I dunno.). Fubbing always makes me smile. Pay it forward:
I even did my once a year hand-holding task specifically for Pride. Awwww...
For the record, no one hugged me -- except for an HRC volunteer soliciting a donation.
Where's the love from your own kind, kids? Where's the Pride?
Posted by durban bud at 11:17 AM | Comments (22)
June 17, 2008
Hit Me Up
During the past few years I've received a couple emails about this site from men who included their Manhunt usernames with their e-mail signatures. I know, I thought it was odd too, until I thought, "Ooooooh, reader butts and penises! Let's take a looksy!"
But when I plugged them into Manhunt, I was told I needed an account to view member profiles. So I set up a limited free account just to see some reader dick -- which were nice, by the way.
Anyway, I received an email from Manhunt last week telling me I was in violation of their rules for not having a profile pic on a free account. Meee-owww. At first I was all, I don't care; delete my account, pig. Then I thought, hmmm, I should hold onto it...just in case...I need it sometime.
So I added a faceless pic and wrote an innocuous profile that said something like, "I have a boyfriend, so I'm ONLY looking to make FRIENDS who will let me piston-fuck them from time to time, cuz that's what friends are for." What? I was just being ironic. Geez.
Then the strangest thing happened, something that has never happened the last couple of years I've had an account: I started getting emails -- lots of emails!
Apparently piston-fucking brings all the boys to the yard.
I now totally understand the Manhunt phenomenon. Totally understand. It's like going to a gay bar, only without the beer breath and CeCe Peniston song blaring in the background. Also, no one is wearing much clothing. And you can leave whenever you want!
I've made more friends on Manhunt in five days than I made in five years on Friendster!
There are several hot guys from DC on the site. I am aware, however, that pics don't always tell the whole truth. Some guys I know have "masculine" listed in their profile stats. MmmHmm. There are also several couples and partnered guys looking around on the site. *giggles*
The only problem is everyone at my gym is on Manhunt, I have now learned. So when I see a guy, he gives me that knowing Manhunt glare. His eyes say, "Hey, what's up?" And I look back with, "Unlock?" Or I look at them with, "How's it going?" And he kinda grins and mentally shoots "horned" back at me. It's now very distracting.
Plus I know what they're all into -- which, again, is fantastic. It helps to enhance friendships to know these things. It really does.
But some of the labels confuse me. What is a Top/Vers or Bottom/Vers? Pick a side for Christ's sake. If you like both then you're versatile, no? I thought Top/vers meant that you top, but you're versatile orally. But some say it means you prefer to top, but will "flip" for the "right guy." Hmm. A glossary on Manhunt would be helpful.
I would totally enjoy having a part-time gig as the profile approver. I've always enjoyed knowing about other people's sex lives. I seriously considered becoming a sex therapist in college. It's fascinating! I am very inquisitive with my friends about sex, but am usually reprimanded by some with, "That's not appropriate, TJ." Perhaps not, but I think people would be less uptight if they would freely discuss sex. Try it. Ask the guy in the cubicle next to you if he's top/vers or bottom/vers.
I do realize there are some crazies on Manhunt, and some really rude ones as well. Most people email "hi" or something equally inoffensive, but some people just write, "Are you hung?" I know -- rude, right? Have some goddamn respect. When guys write that, it goes something like this:
Pig: are you hung?
Me: I am not William
Pig: no, how HUNG are you?
Me: two inches or a yard, rock hard or if it's saggin'
Pig: ???
Me: it ain't like I'm braggin' just join the paddywagon
RIP, Left Eye. One love.
Anyway, I've made several new friends who just want to go on bike rides with me! It's fantastic.
So if you see me online, hit me up and buddy me, bro. But unlock first. ;)
Posted by durban bud at 5:15 PM | Comments (18)
June 16, 2008
Public Service Announcement
The best show on television returns with all new episodes starting tonight. I'm talking, of course, about Intervention.
It shouldn't be entertainment, but it's so hard to resist. And it's not always happy! But very educational. I think it's the most realistic show out there that documents addiction (drugs, food, gambling, ManHunt, etc) and the effects it has on everyone around that person. It's entertaining because you really root for the person and hope they take the help offered and, most importantly, remain clean.
And what else is returning to the telly tonight? The perfect antidote to Intervention: Weeds! Love it.
What better way to start the week than with Candy Finnigan AND Mary Louise-Parker?
Intervention: Mondays at 9:00pm on A&E
Weeds: Mondays at 10:00pm on Showtime
Come watch with me.
Posted by durban bud at 1:06 PM | Comments (4)
June 9, 2008
If You Are Easily Offended, DO NOT Click Here!
I warned you.
The woman I went to my prom AND her prom with (pictured) sent me these photos. Hi Mo!
She just welcomed the birth of her FOURTH child! I'm still...uh...working on my first.
I was such a skinny lad in high school. I was so upset about it that I went on a program to gain weight. It involved eating raw eggs in milkshakes and taking 20 supplements a day.
It didn't work.
It wasn't until I moved to DC and discovered that drinking beer in mass quantities does the same trick.
And now that I've stopped drinking? Well, let's just say it doesn't go back to the way it was -- which is fine. I never was much of a twink even when I was a twink. Ya dig?
It looks like I'm drinking a "pop" in the photo with the dog -- though, knowing me, it was probably a Genesee Ale.
I'm fairly certain the look I have on my face in that photo helped carry me through high school and throughout much of my life, actually.
Ah, memories.
Posted by durban bud at 3:05 PM | Comments (23)
June 6, 2008
Night Grinders
I was walking through Dupont Circle listening to my iPod when I noticed a bunch of people were stopping. I took my headphones off to check out the commotion. Some homeless guy was screaming at another guy sitting in the grass. People were looking around at everyone else with that "maybe we should do something" kind of look.
Then I thought, OMG -- I bet this is one of those ABC News John Quiñones "What Would You Do?" gotcha reports, where he films some actors making a scene to see if anyone helps out.
So I put my headphones back on and walked away, waiting for Ms. Quiñones to run up to me with a cameraman and yell, "Why didn't YOU do SOMETHING to assist?" And I would have been all, "Get off my dick, John Quiñones. I don't want to be a part of your stupid show, John Quiñones. That's why I didn't help. It's all because of you. You're creating a cry wolf environment around the country and I'm on my way to the dentist -- so piss off, John Quiñones."
A few years ago I ever-so-slighty chipped my front tooth. It was rather pathetic. I was putting a glass dish in the microwave over the stove and somehow it hit my mouth. The sad truth is I was stone cold sober, too. Naturally I was all owwww and tasted something chalky. I ran to the mirror and saw a small chip on the bottom of my tooth.
After sulking and wearing a surgeon's mask for the rest of the day, I showed a few people the chip I have since named Chester. They all said that Chester wasn't even noticeable and I was exaggerating the severity.
As we all know, being gay amplifies slight defects three-fold compared to our straight brothers. But it was happening to ME, so it was indeed awful.
My dentist fixed it, but whatever he filled it in with has since been chewed and swallowed.
I saw him recently and asked if he could fix it again. He said, "Not until you stop grinding your teeth. It's pointless otherwise." I was all, "Excuse me? I am not grinding my teeth. I'm a chill kinda guy. I would know if I was grinding my teeth. And the only time I ever grind my teeth is when I read Andrew Sullivan -- and that's rare." He told me I'm not aware of doing it cuz I'm sleeping.
What? Why would I do that when I'm sleeping? I don't dream of Andrew Sullivan. My dreams are all rainbows, porn stars and Martha Raddatz interviews.
Then I thought, OMG -- maybe I'm X-ing in my sleep! This is one of those long term effects of doing ecstasy in my gay youth, isn't it? I knew that shit was bad. As if the holes in my brain weren't bad enough!
He said it's fairly common for people to be night grinders.
I still think it's ecstasy related. Rob accused me a few weeks ago of clapping in my sleep. Must be all the beats in my head, man. I assume I'm still hearing "Unspeakable Joy" or something Kim English-y or Thunderpuss-y.
He also said that on another night I extended my hands into the air (like I just don't care) and softy rubbed the top of my hand with my fingers, while smiling. I'm totally X-ing in my sleep.
My dentist asked if I was on any medications. Nope, not even Tylenol PM these days. If it's not a medication side effect or an Andrew Sullivan article, then it must be a long-term side effect of ecstasy use, right?
He recommended I sleep with a "night guard" in my mouth. Instantly I thought of Joan Cusack in Sixteen Candles. Yeah, that's not gonna happen. And how much is one of these night guards? "Just $625. Your insurance will pay half."
I told several people about this and they said I could find something cheaper at Target that rugby players use or something. When I mentioned this to my dentist, he laughed and said, "No no no, that will actually make your teeth worse." Thanks, Jimbo! If I listened to you, I would end up looking like this.
I need to get one, though. He said if I don't stop I will fuck up my bottom teeth and then I will be required to get something called Invisilign installed on my teef. "What's Invisilign, doc?" "It's clear braces." "Oh, you must be joking. Braces? I'm like 37. And I'm gay. Not gonna happen. I will be banished from the Saliva Pit and shunned like a Log Cabin Republican."
And how much is this Invisilign you speak of? "About $6,000, not covered by insurance."
I'm totally getting a night guard.
Being gay and happy is so fucking expensive. And doing E doesn't help.
You've been warned.
Posted by durban bud at 12:18 PM | Comments (20)
June 5, 2008
Nissan Pavilion Sux Donkey Dick
UPDATE II: I'm bumping this back up, cuz I just found out Barack Obama is speaking at Nissan Pavilion as I type this. Hilarious! I guess he doesn't read my blog. :( Methinks there's gonna be some cranky Obama supporters in about, oh, say, an hour. I should head there tomorrow morning and take pictures of them still trying to get out of the parking lot. Their makeup will be runnin' down their face, while they scream through their tears, "I'm voting for fucking Hillary now!"
UPDATE: This blog has a great run-down of the clusterfuck that is Nissan Pavilion. He also calls out Radiohead for their hypocrisy playing "eco-friendly" venues. Well done, sir.
Radiohead performed last week at Nissan Pavilion and their fans are not pleased. Not because of Radiohead, but because of the venue. Why Radiohead continues playing there, I'll never know. And it's not so much the venue; it's how fucking horrible the traffic situation is getting in and out.
I swore that place of ten years ago when I attended an Alanis Morissette concert -- shut up, she's good! -- with Radiohead opening. Obviously this was way before Radiohead got all freaky-deaky and abandoned the things that kinda attract me to a song -- y'know, like the melody. I recall the show started around 7:00pm, yet I remember still participating in a daisy chain of cars at 11:00am the next morning, drunk on carbon monoxide and softly singing to myself, "I..want..you..to know..that..I'm...still in FUCKING VIRGINIA."
If an artist wants my money, they need to come closer to ME. No one is worth waiting in Virginia traffic -- not even Weezer. *shudder*
Wolf Trap isn't much better. Merriweather Post Pavilion is slightly more attractive, but it's like 45 minutes away and in Maryland.
This is prolly why -- along with ticket prices and body odor -- I rarely go to many concerts these days. It's part of being in your thirties, I think. You start to develop fussiness, which may actually just be a disguise for becoming more responsible with self-gratifications.
I may venture out of my hole, but these days I'm all about Verizon Center or Taco Bell Arena or Citibank Stadium or the Sacks Fifth Avenue -- in partnership with Payless Shoes -- Theatre or the 9:30 Club or Constitution Hall or any other place located in DC -- especially when the artist's tour itinerary claims they are playing in Washington, DC. You just have to come to ME and be worth it. That's all.
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Rivers Cuomo has to be one of the coolest heterosexuals out there. He's always been socially awkward -- and he's not even gay! -- but seems to be coming out of his shell lately. Yay! He launched a YouTube page a few months ago, asking for people to help him create a new song. It's fun to watch all the videos that led up to the latest. This might bore you since it's not Leona Lewis, but I liked it. And he's kinda adorable with his li'l porn 'stache and voice alterations. I think I may have a man crush.
Weezer have released another single from their new CD (out June 3) for download on iTunes called "The Greatest Man That Ever Lived." That title's not proper grammar, right?
It's a five-minute epic song full of homages to almost every genre of rock music (rap/metal/country/emo) and songs like Bohemian Rhapsody and even a small nod Radiohead. It's made of teh awesome. Sorry, I broke my own rule. I meant to say, it's made of THE awesome. Anything "teh" passed away last month.
Posted by durban bud at 10:58 AM | Comments (11)