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November 28, 2008

The Hills

Rob and I had a quiet, unplanned Thanksgiving here in DC. It was nice, actually. We were supposed to head to my parents' new home in Tennessee for the holiday. But my grandmother has spent the last month in a hospital in West Virginia and is not doing well. My parents are there now; my sister is flying in from the Netherlands; I'm meeting her at the airport, and we're flying into West Virginia this evening. From there, we'll drive into the hills of WV where there is no cell phone reception (or teeth). "Bring a suit," my mom says.

I haven't been back there in almost 8 years. The last time I was there was for my other grandmother's funeral. I was a pallbearer. She was buried on a hill. Have you ever carried a casket up a hill that looks like this? Try it. It's fun.

This will be the first time in decades that our family has assembled with just the four of us. It's like I'm eleven all over again! Given the logistics and timing, we decided it best to forgo bringing the rest of our families.

It will be sad, of course. One of the primary motives for my parents' move to Tennessee was to be closer to her mother. But my grandmother is 83. That's a long life. And for that, we're all thankful.

We still had a nice, SMALLER, traditional dinner. Earlier in the day, we took in a showing of Milk. Great movie. Better than I expected. I almost cried but remembered that I am straight-acting, so I just swallowed really hard.

I'll try to take some photos of the Wasilla of West Virginia while I'm there. It's truly unlike any place you have seen before.

Posted by durban bud at 1:28 PM | Comments (17)

November 25, 2008

Franklin Mint Barack Obama Coins

A friend of mine asked me if I was renting out my home during Barack Obama's inauguration. I was like, "No." She was all, "Well you should consider it. I put an ad on Craigslist and scored over $3,000 for 5 days."

Wh-wh-what? Really? And she has a one bedroom in Columbia Heights. Surely, given the proximity, a two-bedroom in Dupont Circle would fetch more, no?!? We could stay at another friend's place for a few days if we can score, oh, say, $10,000. I would even put some lube, condoms and poppers on the bedside table (master bedroom-only). I would have one of my lawyer friends put together a contract to protect against vandalism and theft.

I realize a few out-of-town friends are planning on crashing at my place during that time but that was before I saw dollar signs in my future -----> $$$$$$$$$OBAMA$$$$$$$$$.

As long as they abide by my city rules they are welcome to stay here.

Yes? No? Is anyone else renting out their place???

Posted by durban bud at 12:36 PM | Comments (16)

November 19, 2008

Upgrade!

After three years I have finally upgraded the software on this site. Hopefully that will help cut down on the mountains of spam I'm pounded with daily. There's also some cool new features I may add, or not, once I figure out how they work. So far everything seems to be working properly but do let me know if you notice any problems.

I also tried upgrading to the recent Activism 4.0 freeware application through a link that some formerly complacent hippie sent me on Facebook. His subject line read "WE CAN'T DEPEND ON ANY OF TEH GAY ORGS TO DO ANYTHING RIGHT! DOWNLOAD THIS NOW! WONDERGAYS, ACTIVATE!"

I was like, okay, that sounds good. But as I read more and more customer reviews about Activism 4.0, I decided to hold off until the first patch is released. Hopefully that will address most of those annoying, bitchy bugs people have already discovered. No doubt Andrew Sullivan is diligently working in his underground laboratory on the Activism 4.0 Service Pack 2. Surely he knows exactly what to tweak in order to make the software run more efficiently.

I anxiously await!

Posted by durban bud at 2:42 PM | Comments (4)

November 17, 2008

Dirty Brown Stains on Pretty White Dresses

Is anyone else sick and tired of The Gays after all of their well-documented, attention-whoring shenanigans from the past couple weeks? They're EVERYWHERE these days, shouting about gay this and gay that, with their shrill demands for special rights, yammering out tired old cliché like "equality," "respect," and to be treated with "fairness" and "basic human dignity." Ugh. All over the news. All over the blogs. All over the Facebooks. All over the streets. All over the country.

Maximum. Homo. Tolerance. Levies. Have. Been. Breached.

Next thing you know that pregnant dude will suddenly reappear in the lavender limelight and announce he's expecting his second child with his legally-recognized wife! Wouldn't that be an ironic salt in the wounds?!?

Oh, I kid.

I'm thrilled my fellow dues-paying members of GAY USA, INC., along with our supportive allies, are risin' up and finding their inner Norma Rae and channeling their hurt and anger into a powerful, twenty-first century, grassroots, protest movement -- already branded with its very own logo. I'm in complete support of the mission and will do whatever I can to help fight the good fight, providing it doesn't intrude on my daily beauty naps. I say, EQUAL RIGHTS FOR ALL -- except for the members of that god-awful rock group Hinder.

"Gay marriage" is really just the new "turkey meatball." Once people understand this the world will be a better place. If someone offered you a turkey meatball a decade ago you would have been all, "Eeeewwww, that's gross. Turkey doesn't belong in a meatball. That's just wrong, man. I like my meatballs the traditional way, the way God meant for them to be eaten."

But once the turkey-phobes got used to the idea of this healthier alternative to traditional meatballs, they realized that turkey meatballs could be just as tasty and acceptable as pork and beef meatballs. Sure, they may not taste exactly the same to some, but they do share the same exact recipe, with the only exception being your preferred type of protein. With time and patience, turkey meatballs become just meatballs.

The only time the descriptor needs to be added is after you've ordered the spaghetti and meatballs and the waiter asks, "What kind of meat would you prefer in your balls?" That's when you look him directly in the eyes and smile, before proudly answering with a wink, "Oh, I prefer the turkey meatballs, sir." And no one these days would pass judgment on your decision. That's called progress, folks.

I've heard many people admit they favor equal rights for all couples, but they're just not comfortable applying the word "marriage" to unions between those who dig their own sex. This reaction is obviously selfish and irrational, but seems to be a major sticking point with the marriage elite.

We can kind of understand why they feel this way, but only if we acknowledge an ugly truth that no one wants to discuss publicly. Whenever the words "gay marriage" are spoken, straight people instinctively picture two hairy guys buttfucking in front of a wedding cake designed to resemble Carol Channing's head. It's true. And you know it.

Trust me, straights (especially the men) are obsessed with buttsex. (Note to self: Maybe you're straight, bro.) I used to hang out with them in my earlier denial years when I was perfecting my acting chops. It doesn't matter that not all gay guys are anally-oriented, or that lesbians should automatically be exempt for obvious reasons -- to most heterosexuals, gay triggers buttsex imagery, end of story.

This uncomfortable visualization stains the picture-perfect wedding day scenario they've painstakingly storyboarded in their minds after watching too many Julia Roberts movies, so they respond in the negative when equating certain marriages with theirs.

Maybe we should consider a maneuvering of semantics. I hate the term "gay marriage." Or "same-sex marriage." It shouldn't require a descriptor. We don't say, "I'm getting gay married," do we? A marriage is a marriage, no? So let's strike it from the record so the marriage stands on its own merits without prejudice.

Once we've tweaked the semantics, we can focus on operation bigot reform.

Besides protesting outside organizations that seek to demean us, the gays and their allies need to do something provocative to bring attention to the individual meanies who continually disrespect us behind our backs. An animal rights activist recently threw flour on poor Lindsay Lohan for wearing fur. In the past, similar activists have branded fur-wearing bitches with red paint. This strategy works. Whenever we now see a sophisticated woman in tears walking down the street with red paint splattered all over her fancy attire, we think to ourselves, "Wow -- that woman must hate animals, or maybe she must have gotten into a fight with her pimp. Regardless, I think I will avoid her in the future. She's scum."

Maybe instead of red paint or flour we could sprinkle our mean-spirited adversaries with glitter. Glitter might appear to be harmless and an easily removable annoyance, but, as someone who used to go clubbing regularly, I can attest that little specks of glitter -- covertly transmitted from brief non-consensual contact with a grinding tina twink -- will remain on your person for days until a senior VP points it out during an all-staff meeting in the company conference room by saying, "Can you turn your head a little bit? I think I saw a little sparkle shining on you or something." As he leans in for a closer inspection he shouts, "OMG -- are you wearing glitter?!?"

If it works from brief glitter contact, imagine what would happen if someone were hit with a glitter tsunami. So in the future, people spotted with specks of glitter would be branded as bigots (or recreational drug-using clubbers teetering toward rehab) and avoided by the enlightened. I can picture the Focus on the Family press release now, "Gird your loins, the gays got glitter."

Think about it. All of this could really work in our favor.

Posted by durban bud at 12:48 PM | Comments (21)

November 12, 2008

I Love Stumbling Upon Photos of Myself on the Internets

I make a little joke and it somehow ends up here. Lovely.

UPDATE: Looks like my photo only shows up sporadically now. Hmm. I guess I no longer fit the mold, which is comforting.

Posted by durban bud at 12:01 AM | Comments (17)

November 11, 2008

Keeps Gettin' Better

Tina Yothers, who played little Jennifer Keaton on Family Ties, has a greatest hits album coming out soon. Maybe you should buy it.

I've seen a couple movies at the theaters recently. I saw Religulous. Good movie. Rent it on DVD when it comes out.

On Sunday, I rounded up Rob and our Latino house-boy Carlos to go see the critically-acclaimed Jonathan Demme picture, Rachel Getting Married, starring Anne Hathaway.

I felt bad because neither Rob nor Carlos knew anything about it, but they trusted my judgment. I kept saying, "It's from the director of Silence of the Lambs! It must be good." Sadly, no. It was painfully tedious.

There were a couple scenes that just went on and on and on. And on. One scene featured two men holding a contest on who could load a dishwasher the fastest. The entire thing was frenetically documented. I finally stood on my seat and screamed, "OKAY, WE FUCKING GET IT! THEY BOTH HAVE DISHWASHER LOADING SKILLS! MOVE ON DOT ORG!" Then there was a scene that took place at a wedding reception detailing everyone dancing and carrying on. And by everyone, I mean everyone in the entire cast. After about 20 minutes of watching EVERYONE dancing and carrying on, I looked at Rob and Carlos, and they just glared at me like I was Joe Lieberman or something.

I appreciate art-house films. I dig the independent voices that create some of the edgiest movies. I enjoy the superior feeling I get when I frequent the E Street Cinemas in downtown DC and take a latte into the theater. But every film needs to be edited down to prevent the attendees from losing their shit and attacking each other.

Luckily there was a mentally disturbed woman, resembling a pre-born again Anne Rice, sitting directly behind us, mumbling to herself in Italian and occasionally clapping loudly during inappropriate scenes. At least she was entertaining.

Posted by durban bud at 9:35 AM | Comments (9)

November 5, 2008

This Is My Post About The Election

I'm glad Barack Obama won. Now maybe when I travel overseas I won't get pelted with tomatoes anymore.

We volunteered in Virginia on election day. I knew the state was likely going in his favor when we showed up and were told that they had too many volunteers to do the usual poll greeting, knocking on doors or making phone calls. Instead they gave us some signs and told us to hold them over the 14th Street Bridge to passing cars heading to Virginia as a reminder to vote for the man.

So we found a spot near the bridge and did what we were told for about an hour. It was actually fun. The majority of people driving by honked their horns or gave us the thumbs up. We were only given the finger by fourteen friendly patriots (usually driving Range Rovers). Our volunteer gig ended when one not-so-friendly patriot pulled up to us in his park police cruiser and asked if we had a permit to be there. Kind of odd considering five other police cruisers drove by without showing interest.

I live on a street where one of the big celebrations occurred. Tos and Eric took several photos of the event. It was surreal. I've never seen so much jubilation and...happiness in DC before. And I've lived here for fifteen years. People were still honking their horns at 4:00 in the morning.

Here's a video from the street festivities:

It's bittersweet, though.

According to millions of friendly patriots, people like me were deemed unworthy of tying the knot with their partners in Florida, Arizona and California. And in Arkansas, we are not worthy of adopting children. Actually the ban on adoption applies to all unmarried couples. Maybe if you didn't keep banning marriage for us, we could rectify that, no? And if you are strongly anti-abortion, then wouldn't putting an unwanted child up for adoption to ANY loving home help your cause?

I find it ironic that the majority of minorities in California actually checked off the box that basically said "Yes, I would like to eliminate the right for these people to get married." Especially since interracial marriage was also once banned in this state not too long ago. Hmmm.

Ah, well. Same ole, same ole. Fear, ignorance and religious fundamentalism will continue to trump common decency and respect until more people speak up -- especially in churches.

I've never been much of an activist but it's hard not to take this shit personally. Just watch how homophobes react when they realize that they have just voided the marriages of thousands of couples.

Luckily I'm in no hurry to get married or adopt, but others are, and they deserve to have the option that the majority of couples in this country already enjoy. But when churches keep comparing us to murderers, pedophiles and donkey-fuckers, the task will remain daunting.

I realize that gay rights are not at the top of the priority list for most voters given the current circumstances facing our country. So the massive defeats we experienced on Tuesday should serve as a sobering reminder that we still have a long way to go. But I think setbacks can actually work in our favor. We become less complacent, more empowered, and wiser. It will happen someday. We've already made great strides in just a decade. Patience will serve us well.

A couple decades from now people will look back and wonder why so many spent a colossal amount of time and money trying to enshrine bigotry into a state's constitution. And those same people will ask where you stood on the issue during that time.

Regardless, I'm pleased that an intelligent critical-thinker won this election. He may not be perfect, but he's what we need right now. And it was nice to get a shout-out in this future president's speech. As always -- baby steps.

Posted by durban bud at 9:56 PM | Comments (13)

November 3, 2008

Mister Fister Overdoses on Candy Corn

The scariest thing about Halloween is the leftover candy.

It's gotten out of control. I cut myself shaving the other day and caramel oozed out instead of blood. That's not normal, right? And I'm pretty sure that muscle I thought I tore in my hamstring is really just nougat deposits under my skin. Gross. Damn mini 3 Muskateers bars!

Rob and I made the mistake of hosting a scary movie night last weekend with a few friends. In preparation, we went to Target to stock up on decorations and edibles and the DVD of our evening's feature presentation, The Strangers.

Only one person showed up to our movie night.

One person = LOTS of leftover candy to make me sick and fat

Actually, Mister Fister was also in attendance but he passed out fifteen minutes into the movie due to acute candy corn poisoning. I had placed a big bowl of candy corn in front of him hours before the film started. I wanted to use him as a guinea pig to see if candy corn is broken down during digestion, unlike its big sister. I never told him to eat ALL of it! But after he started drooling and murmuring to himself after the movie started, we sent him to bed and forgot about the results of our little experiment.

Luckily my (Jewish) friend Greg stayed to watch the film. Unfortunately he only ate two pieces of candy. Rude!

Anyway, I've eaten all of the "good" leftover Halloween candy. I don't like candy corn. It's all sugar! My parents stayed here last week so I bagged up the candy corn and hid it in my mom's suitcase.

Now I'm suffering through withdrawal symptoms. I woke up in the middle of the night, shaking and sweating. I ran to the kitchen to find something -- anything! -- sweet to curb my craving. All I could find was Fluffernutter. So I crammed three large spoonfuls into my mouth. I'm not sure if you've ever crammed a lot of Fluffernutter into your mouth at once, but if you have, you would know that it suppresses normal breathing. I did not know this. I thought, Oh my God, I can't breathe. I'm going to be one of those freaks featured on News of the Weird with the headline "Man Dies From Fluffernutter Suffocation." While panicking, I scooped it out of my mouth over the sink. Crisis averted. Whew.

Sure, I could have thrown out all of the leftover candy, but I tend to horde everything during hard economic times. Plus, I need something to quell the impending anxiety I feel about a certain day of this week.

Back to the gym on Wednesday!...depending on the results. Otherwise my winter hibernation and fat storage starts early.

More Mister Fister mayhem:
Mister Fister Celebrates the Resurrection of Christ by Asking, "Did He See His Shadow?"
Mister Fister Bangs a Tranny
Mister Fister Gets a Mani-Pedi
Mister Fister & His Slaveboy Harem

Posted by durban bud at 5:57 PM | Comments (8)