Saturday, May 30, 2009

New, Now, Next!

I was honored to be invited to the taping of Logo's New, Now, Next award show last week. It was jam-packed with gaylebrities: Robert Verdi, the VGL boys, Richie Rich, Cheyenne Jackson, Mike Diamond, Erin Foley to name a few-- and that cute "hybrid" draglette Ongina from Rupaul's Drag Race.

Ongina saw me and says, "You starred in that movie with the guy who has two first names!" Ha! Everyone loves Charlie David.

The show will air on LOGO next month. There were also some fierce ladies there, including the Paradiso Girls, rapper Eve, and Vanessa Williams. These were the good divas. The wicked one? RUPAUL: Who kept everyone waiting awkwardly for a good half an hour. I was sitting at a table with people who run Logo. Despite their power, nobody could pull Ru out of her dressing room and onto the stage. Eventually, they got a text from one of her handlers which read: "She won't come out...says she's having a "slight" problem. We presume it's with the wardrobe."

One queen at the table screeched, "The wardrobe isn't distracting her facial wasting like it used to!"

The executives were like, "What if this was a live show?" Imagine all the money they put into this, at the Hiro Ballroom, for her to refuse to come out of her dressing room for 30 minutes? I said, "Time to announce Logo's next season will be called ONGINA's Drag Race!"

After the 30 minutes, RuPaul finally did appear on stage looking like a crimped red lampshade. We were left to presume her perpetual "slight problem" has mostly to do with professionalism.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Grandma Must Die!

I tried something new for my column in June/July issue of Out magazine. I stopped the snark!

It's always fun to try a new mood, and for this one I went wistful.

Over two years ago, I wrote a column about the young clarinet player who spent the night and wouldn't leave in the morning. I was never outright rude to him, but my thoughts about the experience came across cruel and jaded. They were meant to be contradicted at the very end, when he said to me "I know what this is, but I wish we could have been friends." It was then I understood the allure of youth. I thought it was touching, and some people got that.

The vast majority, however, despised the cynic. I got hate mail saying I was a 1000 year old vampire; an emotional rapist. I was responsible (don't you know?) for drug addiction, prostitution, and suicide! If there's one column people remember the most--it's that one.

A few months back, I got a letter from a reader in England saying they had changed their mind about me---that for years he thought I was that wanker who wrote about that poor clarinetist. So finally I decided to write the antidote to that column, and this is it: "Grandma Must Die".

Yes, I was there too. I was the poor clarinetist dreaming of forever, and Michel of Rotterdam was my unrequited crush. It happens to all of us. It may sting, but a sting is the only way for starry eyes to see.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Geometric Armageddon!

Headed south to Pensacola with friends for the long weekend. Disaster struck!

It''s a big gay weekend down south...but the weather was not cooperating. It stormed, it rained, it blew...oh how it blew! On Pensacola Beach, everyone stakes out a piece of sand and sets up enormous tents for the holiday party weekend...but when they came back after a stormy Friday, all tents were overturned or washed away. Nothing like stepping on tent-poles in the surf!

Tent City Carnage! Pensacola Memorial Weekend 2009
Saturday was still no good. The weather sucked, and still the ever-industrious gays persisted. They kept attempting to set up their tents versus the elements, kept putting up rainbow leis and sticking pink flamingo garden ornaments into the sand, despite the winds. It all seemed futile, and I kept wondering: can't they do like they do on every other beach in the world and settle for just a towel?

The Pensacola gay bar down is called Emerald City...and all the friends of Dorothy have to tromp past frickin' protesters to get in! There was literally a wall of bible maniacs with bullhorns yelling at us. In between the scripture quoting, one of them boomed, "Have you ever read the bible?" and one young whippersnapper piped up (insert southern accent here), "I've read the bible..and it said to suck my dick, bitch!"

These are my sentiments exactly...but for once I didn't say a thing. I just took it all in. It seems so...archaic. It makes me wonder--has there ever been an occasion where someone entering a gay bar heard all that fire and brimstone and said to themselves, "I have heard the word of god! I'm not going into that bar!" Yeah, no. We just keep going into the bars. We just keep putting up the tents in spite of the storm.

Then yesterday, the supreme court of California upheld Prop 8 and said that YES, the people can vote away the rights of a minority. I think of the storm in Pensacola, and the protestors, and the fact we just have to keep on persisting and never settle. Our day will come. As they say, the arc of history is long---but it bends toward justice. Hang on.

The tents eventually did stay set-up, frilly decorations colored the beach, and the sun did shine in Pensacola.

Sunday was gorgeous.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

It's not what you can do for your trick...

but what can your trick do for you?

Cooldan is back! Since quitting his job, he's hit Australia, Paris, Jordan, and his homeland of Lebanon. During this time, his roommates up and moved to San Francisco.

On his return, Dan found he's not completely alone in the apartment.

"How are you with dead mice?" he asked me. "Can you...get rid of it for me?"

I don't usually have a problem with that, but then came the kicker. "The mouse crawled inside my electrical outlet and electrocuted itself." His light socket cover had been removed and the mouse managed to crawl into the side and shocked itself to death. Now there is mouse ass and tail hanging rigid outside the socket.

I tell Cooldan he's on his own for that one.

He can call his Landlord. Of course he doesn't, so over the course of the next few days his complaints mount. "I can't sleep at night with...mouse ass sticking out my wall!"

So what are you going to do? "I'm just going to wait until it turns into a skeleton."

But then on Thursday, fate intervened when Cooldan picked up some guy on the bus. They made googly eyes at one another --got off at the same stop-- and when Dan asks him where he's going, he says he's meeting friends at the bar down the street. Cooldan says, "Want to come over to my place first?" And that was that.

They go to Dan's place, fuck, and afterwards Cooldan musters the courage to ask, "Would you help me with something...?"

Oh Yes! The trick offers to help extract dead mouse-ass from the light socket.

First he tries a broom. He whacks at the mouse, but it won't budge. "Do you have anything to pry it out with?" Cooldan suggests plyers! The trick takes plyers, pulls on the mouse and...the mouse breaks in half!!!

So now there is only half a mouse in Cooldan's electrics. This half, he insists, will be left to decompose unmolested "until it turns into a skeleton."

The nameless trick then left to the bar, to meet up with his friends. Can you imagine the first words out of his mouth? "You'll never guess what happened to me..."

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Hosting HX Mixer next week...

After you're done glazing on Memorial weekend---come say hi next Thursday at Ate Ave as I host the HX mixer! I believe my responsibilities as host don't extend much beyond drawing prize winners from the bowl....but if this event is anything like this poster (where I'm portentiously placed at the groin of these two) you & I won't want to miss it!

Living With Bam

What do a relationship and a hockey game have in common? The penalty box!

Bam recently threw his blue jeans outside for the homeless (nyc recycling). They weren't an old pair of jeans so I asked why they were being tossed. "Because they don't give me any ass."

I said, "Don't blame that on the jeans!"

When I realized this was rather rude, I tried to kiss and make up but Bam was having none of it. "You're in the sin bin!" he said.

In the sin-bin, I can't talk to or touch him. "For how long?" "Five minutes"

The difference between us is that Bam Bam actually enjoys being in the sin-bin! Because, he says, he can finally get some work done without me hanging all over him. The next morning, when he was emptying out his bag, I saw a Netflix movie in there all sealed and ready to go.

If you get Netflix, you know it's kind of an unspoken competition: how fast can you watch them, mail them back, and deplete your queue? "You were supposed to mail that days ago!"

"I forgot," he said unapologetic. "That's it....You're going in the sin bin for this."

"How long?" asks Bam. "3 hours? Please?"

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Make an Impact!

I did it. I called my state senator!

I'm a really out-going people-person, but one thing about me? I'm terrified of cold-calling. If you read this blog, you know what happened to me when I went to the phone banks to call people in North Carolina and ask them to vote for Obama. A complete mumbling mess!

So it was great fear that I dialed my state senator today to ask him to vote YES on the marriage equality bill. I was crossing my fingers for a voicemail box, so when then secretary answered and I got so nervous I just blurted out "Please YES, Marriage Equality Bill" She said, "What's your name?" I'd forgotten to give my name!

This is a long-winded way of saying: If I can do it, so can you! Easy directions here.

I went to the Marriage Equality rally in Times Square on Sunday (I did not, as Bam implies, go to bed at 3pm!) and was inspired. It was put together by Broadway Impact (a group of Broadway professionals), as a way to thank our Governor David Paterson for putting forth the Marriage Equality legislation. We have just a few weeks left until they vote on the bill---so the whole event was meant to galvanize each one of us into calling our senators, urging them to vote YES.

The event featured so many incredible speakers. What a line-up of support! On 6th avenue, we gathered to hear supporters like our Governor (he showed!) David Paterson, Mayor Bloomberg, Speaker Quinn, the cast of Broadway's HAIR came marching down the street in hippy gear to sing "Age of Aquarius" and (of course) "Let the Sunshine in"....David Hyde Pearce (and his partner of 25 years) spoke, Cheyenne Jackson sang, Sex and the City's Miranda and Charlotte showed, and Miranda a.k.a. Cynthia Nixon announced her engagement to her girlfriend.

Cynthia also gave a very moving speech about equality---telling our detractors that our marriage rights have as much to do with "you" as integration had to do with whites; as the female vote had to do with men.

Everyone on stage urged the thousands on the street to tell everyone they know in NY, from Nyack to Niagra, to call their senators and urge them to vote YES on marriage equality. The time is now. If I did it, so can you....find out who is your senator, and how to call them...right here!

Monday, May 18, 2009

Forty Years Together

Down in Argentina, my friends Hugo and Luis celebrate 40 years together. Today. It's really unbelievable to me, 40 years! And how many role models do we get like that in the gay world? And how often do we dismiss and overlook the older generation. We're incorrigible ageists!

Let's talk about that!

I met Luis in the English class I was teaching in Buenos Aires, back in 2000. It was at a gay institute, and the class was made up of older men. I taught them the most important stuff, of course. They learned "Sugar Daddy" "Twinkie" and "Pearl Necklace" and we had great fun. I wrote a bit about them in my book, You Can Run.

Luis, January 2009

This January, I met up with Luis again. It was great to see him. He's in his 70's but still spry and energetic and I asked him what had become of the class I used to teach. It quickly disbanded. "After you, the teacher was an Australian girl," said Luis. She wasn't gay, nobody understood her accent, and she didn't even know the gay lingo. Apparently, she didn't even know what "Glory Hole" meant!! The whole class made him (Luis) explain that to her.

When I lived in Buenos Aires I spent plenty of time with Luis and Hugo (and Walter) having parillas at their cottage in Tigre, in the Delta. They've always been great. So what's their secret to 40 years? "Maintaining our own independence!"

And when did they come out? "Always and Never."

In the 1950's, Luis traveled around South America as I did in the 2000's. Imagine how much more difficult it would be to be gay back then!---and live to share 40 years with another man!

Politics made it all the more difficult, especially in the 1970's--and the "Dirty War" in Argentina. I touched on this also in my book, but you know that the CIA's "Plan Condor" to eliminate Communism fed the regimes in Chile and Argentina and assisted the military take-over that would eventually round up all the subversives (what we may call progressives!) and made them "Disappear". There were 30,000 disappeared from that era. They were of course, covertly killed. Many dropped from helicopters high above the Rio de la Plata.

They targeted homosexuals, too. And this makes me never want to write another word of comedy because I get choked up....but my friends Hugo and Luis were anonymously reported because of their cohabitation and sexuality. One day, the military came to their door to take them away, like all the other disappeared. But you know what happened? Their neighbors, all their neighbors, risked their own safety and came down to their apartment to intervene. They came down to support Hugo and Luis and to issue statements and defend them en masse.

In the end, the military intruders left...taking all their photos, and later wiretapping their phone for years (like Bush is doing now to us). But they left Hugo and Luis and I asked him in January, "Would you be alive today if it weren't for the intervention of your neighbors?"

Luis doesn't blink before answering, "No."

When I think of scenarios like this, I know they happen today in other parts of the world. I know they can happen here again, too. So when I hear Obama in his acceptance speech say that "We reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals" I hope he means it, and by our I hope he means all humanity. By ideals - I hope they are the loftiest. May we all take this sentiment to heart, and never forget stories like the one above.

Luis and Hugo are in their 70's now. They have so much to teach us and yet, like so many older gays, they are shunned by their own community. Luis related a story about a man in his 20's who they invited to dinner. He didn't come and they soon found out that he didn't show because he thought they were going to try and get him into bed. A typical story.

Nobody gay I know has lived to their 70's. Why wouldn't we want to learn from them? I hope that we are able to get beyond our ageism; to open up, speak with, and honor our elders.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Living With Jesse #10

Sunday 3:06pm. Day 5 of Beyonce's Maple-Syrup-and-Lemonade-Only diet. Jesse retires early to bed for the day after an exhausting and strenuous two hours on Facebook.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

If you seek Amy, sign-style!

If you're deaf, how are you going to listen to Britney Spears? Um, like this!

Great to see that a population so often overlooked, does get to hear pop music!

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Casting, it's nothing personal!

Just finished the first day of casting my illustrious upcoming film! It was a very, very full day and you always wish for the next person to walk through the door to be totally PERFECT for the role.

Having gone to auditions before, it's really odd to be on the other side and see---it's nothing personal! We saw a ton of great people today, and we'll call back a lot. A lot more we won't see again and it's not that they didn't read great. So much of it is the look, and so much more is any other variable you can think of. Not the right age, not the right race, face, weight. You name it.

I'd say it's 90% all those external factors. More or less you know the minute they walk into the room whether or not it's gonna work out for said role. So to all those talented hopefuls out there, don't ever take it personal. Keep on putting yourself out there, it's kind of like dating. Honestly.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Kit Kat Klub

Last time in Berlin, I met this incredible tranny at the Kit Kat Klub named Flo. Flo was in her fifties or so, and she was wearing this wild outfit using measuring cups for tits. I'm like, "Nice tits!" and she looks down at them, thoroughly amused, and tells me, "I invented them!" She went on to say, "In life, I believe you should make one invention per day."

There you have it, wisdom for the ages!

Of course it was like noon on a Sunday day, and I'd been there since 5 am when I left the best club in the world, Berghain. Well, I thought perhaps I'd be visiting Berlin again really soon, like this month. That's not happening. But anyway, I had written Flo to see if she was around and to check if we could meet and catch up. She wrote back, just the other day, that she's been looking for me each weekend at the Kit Kat, adding: The divan on which David Bowie had sex with Romy Haag here is waiting for its second visitor.

Go Flo! I wonder what will be invented on that?

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Got the Greenlight!

The Fruit Fly Film is on the march! We've begun location scouting and casting in NYC, and are tentatively scheduling a late-June shoot! If you haven't seen, there's a poll on the right upper hand of this blog you can take to help us with my script's title.

I'm so appreciative of all your support, both financial and moral, through this whole process. We've raised enough money to cover production, but are still looking for the final investors to bring it through post. Check out our business plan and proposal here.

If you have a location (we need bedrooms, photo studios, restaurants! Etc...) we can use to film, want to design clothing, are interested in being an extra (please send a photo), or have a labradoodle puppy we can use (Ha!)....please write us:

Looking forward to getting this show on the road!


Saturday, May 09, 2009

Dinner with the Duke...

...And Queen Celebrity Apprentice. If Trump knows what's good for him!

Room 702 reunited last night at dinner with poker champ Annie Duke. Yay! I decided we should go up to Hell's Kitchen to the restaurant "Room Service" because, you know, that's how we met her on the show. Sadly, nobody got the irony except for her boyfriend Joe!

Tomorrow she'll go in for the finale vs. Joan Rivers to see who's the next Celebrity Apprentice. Being a professional gay, I know why people love Joan. The woman is hysterical, but Annie has played the game better and she never stooped to disparage anyone. As Annie puts it, "I went into the show thinking: I'm here to play the game and I challenge you all to beat me." Nobody has!

We also got some delicious dish on Melissa Rivers, Joan's spoil-sport daughter who, when she lost, had a tantrum and ran out screaming "Whore-pit Vipers!" Behind the scenes, in the episode in which we all appear---at the hotel---the celebrities were forced to clean the rooms before the guests arrived and Melissa had to clean the toilet. This demeaning chore infuriated her so much that she freaked out at the producers. Annie told us she whined, "I'm calling my agent!" and did! After, Melissa screeched to the producers, "My WILLIAM MORRIS...says that he's never sending another of his clients to your show if you don't treat us better!!!"

First off, who cares that your agent is from William Morris and second---you entitled bitch---it's not a violation of your 8th amendment rights. the rest of the world has all had to clean a toilet at one point in our lives. But I suppose that's why we love Celebrity Apprentice, right? We get to watch famous people endure the cruel and unusual punishment of living like proletariats.

Can't wait to watch Annie tomorrow night. She claims Trump loves Joan, but we shall see what we shall see....tomorrow night (live)! Oh, by the way, Annie's boyfriend Joe is a hilarious actor. After dinner they headed to catch STAR TREK, but Room 702 carried on. And on and on...

Getting creative. Joe and Annie...and in the middle it's me & Matt.
Wayne and Becky
Room Service! Becky, Jesse, Annie Duke, Matt, Joe Reitman, Wayne
Jesse & Wayne, pensive
Of COURSE we hit up Marie's Crisis to belt out (off-key) showtunes!
Please note the big set of lipstick lips on my cheek. Thanks, Big Red!
A beautiful lesbian wants to play. The Boiler Room---which has shockingly raised their prices from $3 to $3.50 cocktails. Hey, Boiler Room, these recessionistas aren't afraid to find better bargains in the form of a flask!

Friday, May 08, 2009

There and Back Again

I'm afraid to post an entry after that last one. Whatever follows that post will inevitably be trite.

So I'll stick to some recent, random observations:

Business is bad! I went running today and saw the Psychic on Avenue D is offering to tell your future for $3! Why do I see in my crystal ball....her imminent eviction notice?

My friends Ian and Remy leave today for San Francisco. They are, wait, they were Cooldan's roommates and they were here when I got here and for the entire time I've been here they've been part of my foundation. It was a sad breakfast today when I said goodbye for the last time.

Have you heard the latest Pet Shop Boys? Yes! There's a sampler here. It's amazing---a lot of the album has a sort of 60's pop feel, which I guess makes sense now that HAIR is back on Broadway. There's also one track, "The Way It Used to Be" which is beautifully ethereal and haunting and vaguely reminiscent of another PSB great, "Being Boring."

A girlfriend recently told me she jerked off a Hare Krishna monk in Union broad daylight! I said I thought monks couldn't get jerked off, and she said "Yeah, the other monks told him it's time for him to go get married." I didn't know monks got married, either.

In other religious news, I ran past a parked Church van that had a scripture emblazoned upon it. It was from the bible, from Proverbs, and it read "Trust with your whole heart upon the Lord, and do not look to thine own understanding." Again, religion is anti-human. Honestly, where religion ends...God begins.

I realized recently that I'm a professional gay. I know what you're thinking: he just figured it out? But it was kind of a revelation. Being a professional gay is getting boring. It's kind of sad to see that your life is just one big reaction. It makes me wonder what I would've done or been if society did not/does still try to tell me what I could not be and who I could not be attracted to.

Maybe I should figure that out and do it.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

All Jokes Are Off

Don is one of my regular readers. He often leaves blog comments, and we've emailed back and forth often. He's in his 60's and lives in Pennsylvania, and...he recently came out!! He often tells me how he wishes he came out when he was younger, to be able to enjoy the gay life as a young man. But if he did that, he wouldn't have his two wonderful kids. It's all a trade-off, right?

His wife ran out on him and his two kids 30 years ago and he raised them as a single father, which was no easy task because he said people judged single fathers and thought there must be something terribly wrong with him. They wouldn't let their children play with his kids at their house, for example. This of course only made the bond he had with his children stronger.

Don has been losing weight and getting fit and feeling really good and his children are super supportive of their father's new life. Over a week ago, his son Donnie (who is my age) went shopping with his dad to buy him some new shorts and then he went fishing with some friends and never returned home. This was very unlike him, and friends and relatives quickly gathered to find him. Donnie is still missing.

This story only gets stranger. They found Donnie's truck in the woods, burned out, but no Donnie. It also appears the police have made arrests, but Don can't say because of the ongoing investigation. I've been following this story closely on Don's Facebook page since it happened, offering support and hoping that I would soon see that his son and friend has been found alive and well. That now seems unlikely, and Don is right now living a parent's worst nightmare.

I can't pretend to understand what he's going through, but I imagine that seeing people going about their daily business as if the world has not stopped must seem the height of insult. So I just want to write here and ask everyone who reads this to please stop your world for a second and wish some peace upon this man, and to send vibes and energy that his son will be found. Don, my heart goes out to you.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

This is Why You're Fat!

Here's a cone of bacon (the "Bacone") filled with country gravy, scrambled eggs, and a biscuit! American's are known for their inventiveness, and when it comes to inventive cuisine....oh, Sheila!
I just fell in love with the site This Is Why You're Fat "Where Dreams Become Heart Attacks."

Take a gander---which one of you could resist the "Circus Waffle" (topped with vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, and Capn' Crunch!), or how about some action with the "Cornhole!" -- A Corn on the cob wrapped in bacon, hot dogs, cheese sticks and ground beef!

It boggles the mind, shocks the digestive tract, and inspires the imagination. It's all there, all-American.

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

Mondays in New York---

I feel compelled to explain what can happen in the course of one new york night. One New York MONDAY night. I headed up to Birdland around 7pm where my friend Jim Caruso hosts a fabulous weekly party where the best of Broadway comes to perform. This week it was Tony award winning actress Christine Ebersole (Grey Gardens). She was fantastic.

It was loungy-jazzy- masterful and if there's one thing in the world these shows make me wish it's that I had a voice. A big voice. A big lyrical voice. One that could hold a note and make the room swoon. This she did, and she also did this amazing thing where she made this harmonica out of her fingers and, well, I guess you have to see her live!

Then I went to Anita Private's place for some cocktails. She was already drinking with our friend Paul who just got back from Mexico. He looks radiant, even as he approaches 50, and he told me that while he was sunning himself in Mexico, the swine flu arrived and all the tourists fled in one gigantic stampede. This left him almost alone to enjoy the splendors of Cancun, where he kept muttering to anyone who would listen, "I survived the AIDS plague, what do I care about a little PIG FLU?!"

Anita chimed in that, YES, at least he was exposed to just swine flu and not HER last week --- because (as she so humbly puts it) "If you think YOUR LIFE is bad....just call me!!!" Yes, Anita was "rolled" (read: robbed) again last week. She was out in Chelsea, where some guy played amorous and took her all around in taxis (that Anita paid for) and buying drinks (that Anita paid for) and ultimately zig-zagging across the city leading Anita to believe she'd get sex with him....
eventually. That didn't happen. But by the time she said, "HEY! I've paid for all the taxis and all the drinks and you haven't even put out!" he decided to give her some money from the ATM.

She was satisfied. "We were even."

But that was before..of course....Anita realized that this money----that he gave her.....was money he obtained from her own ATM card!!! But that she didn't figure out until 3 days and $3000 later. Leave it to Anita to get robbed and not even realize it. Paul says he would feel sorry for her, except that every time Anita says, "I've been rolled!" she punctuates it with, "Again."

We're trying to figure out how to erase the target from Anita's face. Then again, who else but Anita can bring urban myths to life?

17 soothing cocktails later, we headed to Vlada where Casper Andreas was celebrating the DVD release party of his latest film "Between Love & Goodbye", which everyone should buy! It was also his boyfriend Ryan's 29th birthday party....and after that we went BACK to Birdland with a gaggle of friends. Christine Ebersole was long gone, but several Broadway Babies were singing at Jim Caruso's "Cast Party"open mic.

We caught....Cheyenne Jackson and Ricki Lake singing a duet. Which was really, super coincidental because we've considered casting both of those actors in our new film. Hello, fate??!
Ricki Lake & Cheyenne Jackson
I also met a Broadway hottie named Brent Barrett (?) who has a great face and even greater voice and who my friend Chad said starred with Cyd Charisse in Grand Hotel on Broadway back a long time ago. And because I'm a huge fan, I ask the man, "Tell me about Cyd Charisse...just, please, distill her essence for me." And he says, "Well I was at a benefit with her last week..." and I say, "Interesting---did they re-animate her or something because Cyd Charisse died last June!"

He's like, "Well who's the one who played opposite Gene Kelly in American in Paris?" And I say, "Leslie Caron?" "Yes, Leslie Caron." Um, okay, someone needs their gay-card revoked because every good gay knows Cyd Charisse, and there's really no comparison between her and Leslie Caron especially now one of them is dead. So turns out this hot Brent Barrett did star in Grand Hotel, but with another actress who was neither Cyd Charisse or Leslie Caron. No word on whether that lady is alive or dead.

Following that folly, I headed to the subway back to the East Village and there was this really greasy looking guy sitting in front of me. He was bigger than me, and tougher--to be sure. And he kept flexing, while muttering to himself the whole way downtown "I slammed his face into the floor" and "I slit his throat" and "I kill fuckin'...FAGGOTS!!!" I knew he was talking about/to me, trying to intimidate me, and I kept thinking I wished I took Karate as a kid.

I decided I wasn't going to move to another car and prove his macho man talk scared me. But I also thought about the daily things I read on blogs about gay guys who get killed and I decided I wouldn't go without a fight. So I reach into my pocket and there's a pen and I grip it very tight and while he's threatening my life without looking me in the eye, I'm preparing to plunge it very deep into his motherfucking eye socket. He doesn't test me.

I get out at 14th street and change to the L train where I see my friend Jeff, the photographer from HX magazine and he's going to the "Nowhere" bar for the Latino/Black-Hooker night. I don't think that's what the night is called, but that's what it was. At one point, my hand brushed the ass of one of the wandering nearly naked "dancers" and I said, "Sorry!" and he responded, "You'll be sorry if you do that again because I'll break your face!"

And I'm thinking----already pretty amped from the subway---why am I getting this shit at a gay bar? A gay bar!!!! I know that 95 % of the "performers" here tonight are gay-for-pay, but really. Either I give you a dollar or you break my face? Honestly. Some days I wonder how any of us make it home alive at night.

Jeff and I left soon after and hit the ARTICHOKE pizza place to split one of their signature waistline-be-gone, soup-on-a-crust slices. I walked back home from there and it's 3:30 am and I'm thinking tonight was pretty darn representative of a NYC night out. Talent. Friends. Danger. It all happens here.

Especially on a Monday.

Monday, May 04, 2009

Her Foot Thought it was a Thumb

Remember last year, when the stain on my comforter won the Kentucky Derby? I got a goose egg, too. That was quite a doozy of a blog entry. This year, my friend Becky was gracious enough to invite me back to her spectacular southern comfort-inspired annual Derby party! Thanks, Big Red!
Our fabulous host Becky, poses with a pitcher of her famous Juleps
Fuck it! Wayne says yes to haberdashery garnished with a sweatshirt.

Derby spectating is hard work. Fortunes are on the line!
She's cool as a cucumber, in a world of cottonfields
This dashing gent arrived in full fox-hunting regalia!

A tip of the hat!
In the south, a pinky finger must never touch the julep.

Mine the bird?
Matt gets a front row seat to the action.

My friend Coppelia, who I met in Namibia (while she was in the Peace Corps) was visiting NYC, so she came along to the Derby Part and in an effort to be close to the beer supply, she spent the better part of the day sitting in the splits.

Always good times with Coppelia. The last time we saw one another was on a Booze Cruise on the Zambezi River where instead of looking at the wildlife (you would be really grossed out by the hippos---it's like 116 orifices twitching underwater---I'm just sayin') we actually became the wildlife. It was "all-u-can-drink" so we like to dub that little adventure Bankruptin' the Booze Cruise.

It ended like this:
Align CenterThe Zambezi River, Zambia, through my glass darkly.

But back to the Kentucky Derby! I've got an excellent footnote.

I complimented this pretty belle on her shoes, noting that they were an excellent marriage of both Aladdin and Anna Pavlova. "It's ballet meets Beirut," I went on, and she noted that not only were they all THAT, but they were comfortable and she knows comfortable shoes because she had foot surgery. "What kind of surgery?" I asked.
"I had a Chevron wire (I'm sure she said this, Chevron, like the service station) put in between two bones in my foot."
"So why the wires, did you break your bone or something?"
"The bone was missing to begin with," she went on.
Noting the look of mint-julep infused confusion all over my face, she added.
"My foot thought it was a thumb." Ok!!!

Who said feet can't have dreams?

Saturday, May 02, 2009

A Gay in the Life. Gawd.

Pro-Marijuana march going up First Avenue right now and that's just where the random-ness begins. Last night I was out to all hours all over the east village and ended up somehow at D-Tox where porn star Ben Andrews was having a DVD release party and giving out dildos molded in the shape of his very own cock....and his mother was there, too. I know! I wish my mom was that supportive!

Anyway...I was drunk and watching his new porn on the tv's at D-Tox and there's one scene where someone is getting fingered, and I decide to do one of my favorite things at the bar which is to take a verbal poll. So I walk around to strangers and ask "I'm not sure about fingers in asses, what's your opinion?" to get a concensus.

I was stymied when one of my respondents started being very difficult. "I don't want to answer that," he said and he's staring at the porn on tv with intent, trying to ignore me, so I press him for a simple yes or no. "Fingers or no fingers for you?" and he gets huffy, "I told you, I don't feel comfortable answering that question. I don't even know you!" I'm like, are you running for office or something? As if I was gonna blog about his answer the next day.

So I wake up today and my hangover is competing with yesterdays hangover for hangover of the year...and I'm lonely because Bam Bam is in Australia and my best friend is in Beirut and my two friends are moving to San Francisco and in addition to the lonely and the hangover I'm in a dazy haze somewhere between the marijuana march and the Kentucky Derby...when I get this email offer in my inbox from a complete stranger:

I am an interesting and active gay man looking for an attractive man to have some great fun. I will make him comfy! Are you interested in having some fun with me? I can do good blowjobs, suck his cock hard and jerk him off as he likes. I live in Flushing main street area in NY. So, let's have some fun together. By the way, are you a gay man?

What? Madness!!! Today is complete fucking madness.

Friday, May 01, 2009