Monday, October 31, 2005

Happy Halloween

Possibly the funniest line from a Chick Tract ever:

"There's comics in here! They'll show you how to go to heaven."

"Cool! Thanks!"


Sunday, October 30, 2005

Trick Or Treat

Sith Drag 10
Originally uploaded by butch stroll.
Halloween has gone too far.

Look for me tomorrow in the parade.


Screw my thesis, I'm doing NaNoWriMo.

Saturday, October 29, 2005


Don't forget to set your clocks back!

The Boys on the Radio

Last night Jo Jo K and I took to the stroll for 1984, which was having the annual Halloween Madonnathon. Sick and twisted, we gave it to the children. Being on The Butch Stroll requires a certain down-for-whateverness, and Jo Jo is always truly Down For Whatever. You might not think that "all Madonna, all night long" would be very Butch Stroll, but you must remember that The Butch Stroll is wherever you take it. ;)

Since it is the Halloween Season, I figured I would wear something scary, like guns:

Another consideration for these pants, which give a "painted on" look, is that they are the only clean pair I own right now. Considering how many pairs of pants I own, this also speaks to how critical (sad?) the laundry situation has gotten around here.

I am already a tall person, so the six inch platform shoes, which I was forced to wear because I sure as hell wasn't going to wear penny loafers or Kenneth Coles with those pants, made me abnormally tall. My butt was around Jo Jo's breasts to put things into perspective. When we got up in there there is no telling how many toes I crushed under the weight of my thick rubber soles.

But before we were even in a cab headed from A-town to Downtown, a gang of ruffians were yelling at us, some strange mixture of "faggot" and "hey baby" that I love so much. Those poor children, so confused by how tall and slim I was couldn't decide if they love me or hate me, yet they know they love every minute of it. I gave them some poses and a flirty little wave goodbye as we got in the cab, and the leader of that little group blew me a kiss. So I guess that settles that.

There was this one little redbone guy there who I kept referring to as "my boyfriend" though he was a complete stranger, and as is the story of my life, I let him get away like the boys on the radio..."they crash and burn they fold and fade so slow..." We could have had many a night of talking about Madonna and postmodernism and choreographing our lives together, but alas, I had to wave goodbye before my carriage turned into a pumpkin (i.e. cabs stopped being plentiful) so Jo Jo and I ate the most delicious piece of pizza ever and returned to the Compound. What could have been, but what was never meant to be...

I had a couple of mean moments, but only ever am I mean is if someone deserves it. And this girl deserved it, for sheer bad attitude and shade-throwing. She was dressed as Rainbow Bright, one of the only costumes in the joint, and when she got up in my face I told her with excited praise: "You make the best CARE BEAR ever!" Completely shut down.

I am in a really strange mood today. I have to put a stop to this glamorously filthy lifestyle and go wash some clothes now, and I just might wear my Darth Vader helmet to go do it. More later. Holla!

Friday, October 28, 2005

Trick or Treating Deer

The Pennsylvania Game Commission asks anyone who has seen a deer with a pumpkin head to call 1-814-643-1831.

Edited to add: What's really interesting about this article is that, while there is legitimate concern for the deer, the article notes that if the wildlife officials see it "a tranquilizer gun is not an option because it would make it unfit for human consumption for up to thirty days." So while there is an effort to save this deer from the thing on its head, it's still game. I find myself in another conflict akin to the previous post about fishbowls/birdcages. I would, and have, eaten members of that deer's species. True, it wouldn't suffer as much from being shot and cooked as it would from dying of thirst because of a pumpkin on its head, but still. There's something conflicting or contradictory about my feelings for this animal. For a while now I have seen myself on the road to vegetarianism. One day, maybe.

Possibly the Greatest Website Ever Created.

You can do anything at

The CIA Leak Case

Like any good graduate student, I appreciate a good summary of anything long and detailed. So regarding the CIA leak case, I appreciated this: Confused about the CIA leak case? Start here.

Allow me to summarize even further: They are all crooks.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005


People think I am a hypochondriac, but I really do constantly have new ailments and conditions. Anyway, I am certain that I am afflicted with Seasonal Affective Disorder.

When it was Spring, I was bouncing back to life, and then over the Summer I kicked major ass and generally felt good about things like living life and being fabulous. Suddenly though, it's 40 degrees outside, rainy all the time, and it starts getting dark at five and I'm hating it.

By the way, did you hear that there are lesbians in the WNBA? Who knew?

Speaking of lesbians and other homosexuals, the story about the American Family Association's claim that Walgreens is pro-HIV because they support the Gay Games has been making the blog rounds. The American Family Association has put these pictures on their website (the page is named "gaygamesproof1.html") to show the shear and utter debauchery these queers are involved in. "The following photos are shown here for the purpose of educating Walgreens customers to the types of activities their purchases are supporting." I wonder how many of their members are secretly tittilated by boys kissing boys and girls kissing girls? Seriously, these pictures are tame. Give me $100 for drinks and a disposable camera and I can get you some material to work with, people.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Why does the caged bird sing?

Recently I was visiting a friend of mine in the Motherland who happens to have a pet bird. A cocktiel or however you spell it, I think. It doesn't say anything, just chirps and stuff. It has a bell it rings in there. Sometimes it lays eggs (which are actually bigger than you'd expect from such a small bird but I digress.) Much to this friend's chagrin, I told him I thought it was effing cruel that the bird has never left that cage.

For some reason, the news that Rome banned goldfish bowls as cruel reminded me of this transgression. Why do I think that owning goldfish is not cruel but having pet birds is very cruel indeed? Are goldfish really relatively mindless creatures concerned only with the sprinkles of food and circling the fish bowl, while birds are more complexly minded beings that suffer from imprisonment? That I eat both fish and birds further complicates the moral categories I put them each in.

FYI - the Yahoo link to the story Rome bans goldfish bowls as cruel will probably not last forever. :|

RIP Rosa Parks

Even after her famous refusal to give up the seat on that segregated Montgomery bus, Rosa Parks new a lot of controversy. One involved the use of her name in a song title. The other involved a line from the movie Barbershop, where cedric the Entertainer's character says, "Rosa Parks ain't do nuthin' but sit her Black ass down; there was a whole lotta other people that sat down on the bus, and they did it way before Rosa did!"

While that is a tasteless way to put it, there is some truth to it I suppose. There were others who protested by way of not giving up their seats. That doesn't make Rosa Parks any less of a heroic figure. she is one among many who courageously faced the danger of doing so, and by doing so became leaders of the Civil Rights Movement (which is still going on, by the way).

Speaking in 1992, she said history too often maintains "that my feet were hurting and I didn't know why I refused to stand up when they told me. But the real reason of my not standing up was I felt that I had a right to be treated as any other passenger. We had endured that kind of treatment for too long."

Here's to the late Rosa Parks and to the countless others who do not give up their seats on busses, metaphorical and otherwise.

Monday, October 24, 2005


Because I will totally sell it right now.

My blog is worth $5,645.40.
How much is your blog worth?

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Should of Known

Well, Madonna was in fact at both Roxy and Misshapes last night. I did trust my sources and kind of knew it was true, but I did not go to either. :( I'm not too disappointed though because it involved waiting in the rain and being crushed by thousands of queens who don't know how to act like civilized human beings, much less like they have any sense. So I live the experience vicariously, here, here, here and here.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Saturday Song Lyrics

by: Hole

She's the angel on top of the tree.
Sugarheart, here she comes,
She's going to fall on me.

Innocence was our fire.
We told the truth.
I miss the sweet boys
In the summer of their youth.

Tear the petals off of you,
Make you tell the truth.
Tear the petals off of you,
Tear the petals off of you,
Make you tell the truth.
Tear the petals off of you.

They will make you so,
So cynical,
The fire burns the flesh,
destroys the past that made us old.

She's the grace of this world,
She's too pure
For the likes of this world,
This world is a whore!

Tear the petals off of you,
Make you tell the truth.
Tear the petals off of you,
Tear the petals off of you,
Make you tell the truth.
Tear the petals off of you.

I wait till mine and,
Hey, it's all mine!
Hey, it's all mine!
Never knew what I could be!
All the darling buds of May,
They fall with no sound,
They carry you down,
They carry you down,
Ooooooooo, ooooooh

All the lillies bloomed and blossomed,
Wilted and they're shivering.
I can't stop their withering,
Oh, this world is a war.

Tear the petals off of you,
Make you tell the truth.
Tear the petals off of you,
Tear the petals off of you,
Make you tell the truth.
Tear the petals off of you...

I'm Going To Tell You A Secret

Last night Madonna's tour documentary I'm Going To Tell You A Secret premiered on MTV. I absolutely loved it. I noticed how similar it is to Truth Or Dare, and how many things that happened echoed what happened in Truth Or Dare. She is so much older now and different, though, so it was at the same time very different. Everything changes but everything stays the same, I guess.

It was a little heavy on the Kaballah mumbo-jumbo, I have to say, and it dragged in places, but I still love her crazy Kaballah involved ass. (You can say, "Kaballah is not a religion" a million times and it doesn't make that statement any more true than saying a rose is not a rose. But I don't think anything negative really comes from it so more power to her.)

One of my favorite parts was seeing her family. I absolutely loved the kids, especially when Lourdes was talking--sounding so much like her mother--about the deep meaning and issues behind Madge's children's book The English Roses, and little Rocco screams, "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

I also loved seeing her father, who seems like a really nice human being who happened to raise an international superstar, perhaps the most famous woman in the world. When he said, "For me, there's nothing in Kaballah that's not in the scripture" I gave him a psychic high-five. Why do people give up one religion and then immediately take on another? It's like breaking up and having to get right back into a shitty relationship.

At the end, when there was "Royal Movement" making them change her flight plans, Madonna said, "I guess there's not enough room in that country for two Queens" or something to that effect. That's my girl.

She also said, the true "star of my show is my assistant." I'm sure my boss feels the same way about me. ;)

More later.

Friday, October 21, 2005

Money Changes Everything

Some CEO from St. Louis put $241,000 on his American Express card at Scores, a titty bar, on basically bottles of champagne and lap dances for the group that was with him. Now American Express is sueing him for the money, he's crying fraud but the evidence of his knowing-what-he-was-doing is on the side of Scores.

To quote Blurty Thompson, "All that money and he didn't even get any pussy?"

Lady Bunny Harriet Miers

I havn't posted anything about ole Harriet, so I give you this from the immortal Lady Bunny:

A team of 20 has been hired to re-launch Bush's Supreme Court nominee Harriet Miers to make her more acceptable to the public. I guess they didn't consider aligning her abortion policies with the 21st century or getting her to tell the truth about the business interests she omitted in her questionnaire, but as a measure of goodwill towards the troubled republican party, I thought I'd offer a couple of helpful hints based purely on her looks.

Hung Up

If you know me, you know my feelings about Madonna, and the energy I have put into seeing her at various things from stadium concerts to small, private showings to promote new cd's or what not. Well, word on the street is that she will be performing at Roxy in an unannounced promotion. This causes me great stress on a number of levels. Firstly, I feel like I have to be there, and being there will likely involve a sixteen million person line. So getting through the line involves getting there mad early. Further, Roxy is always kind of crowded and claustrophobic, even if it is gynormous, so I'm sure that all these queens turning out to see Madonna will be even more raucous and me, being polite little Stroll, will end up in the back. But that would be fine. I'm tall so I could still see. And I'd still be there. So I'm torn.

There's another rumor that following Roxy, she will be spinning records at Misshapes.

I don't know if I'm going to put the energy into it, and I'd likely have to go by myself because I'm sure my nearest and dearest won't be feeling it. I'm also so fucking tired from this week that waiting on Madonna to show up (if she even does) until like three, four, or later in the morning, would be irritating. Maybe I'll save my energy for the concert tickets that will be coming out soon. Or maybe I'll go. Maybe she won't though. Hm. Tomorrow is so far away anyway. I don't have to decide right now. ;)


The best part of the previous post, which is not in the previous post because I forgot it, is this.

After all of the amatuers at the Apollo perform, there is usally some big-name professional who performs. This professional is clearly not a part of "amatuer night". Well, one night the professional comedian was booed off the stage at the Apollo. I just remember Steve Harvey saying, "Damn, he's the professional, ya'll!" Still, no free pass just because he's a "pro".

One day cock of the walk, next a feather duster...

I am reminded tonight of Showtime at the Apollo. As you know, Showtime at the Apollo is amatuer night, in which amatuer performers compete. The thing is, if you get up there and suck, the audience will boo you. And if you get booed long enough and loud enough--if you can't get them to enjoy what you're doing--the tap-dance man comes out and drags you off stage with a big hook. (Actually, I think they've done away with the man with the hook, and now they have the tap-dancer who taps your ass off the stage.)

So you've got to be at least pretty good if you want any respect at the Apollo. I think this is how showbiz should be. No free passes. Even if you're pretty, or know people, or have had success in the past -- when you start sucking, you get booed off the stage (be it television, the movie screen, or Madison Square Garden).

But this is not the case, and I have trouble understanding it. There are singers who can't sing, comedians who are not funny, movie stars who are about as bright as a shattered 40 watt. But some big machine keeps churning them out and we keep gobbling them up.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

The Tank Stroll

Tonight I went to see SDA do his little stand up performance at The Tank. He was very good, and I was so proud of how well he held his own after some tough acts to follow (i.e., people who do that kind of thing for a living). Today The Tank, tomorrow the world!

I took a half day off work today, and I plan to take tomorrow off entirely.

My thesis remains relatively untouched. Tomorrow, perhaps I will begin. I mean, really begin.

But now the night is young and calling to me to come check her out. The night is young, the City is an old, dirty slut, and I am itching to get into some trouble. Pouvez vous me porter à la butch stroll?

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

So anyway...

So anyway, I totally stalked showed my support for Madonna at TRL yesterday. I managed to get a clump of hair, unfortunately there was no scalp attached. Maybe next time.

While I was there though, I met these two beautiful young, seemingly gay black boys, children really, couldn't have been older than sixteen, probably closer to fourteen or fifteen each. Just beautiful, gorgeous kids. I say this of course in a completely non-sexual way. They were just so youthful and radiant, so innocent. They were talking about where the celebs come out of the building, and their experiences with TRL both on the inside and the outside of the studio. They were so excited. They asked if I'd ever been to 106 & Park (BET's version of TRL). They told me about their fake ids they used to get into TRL (I guess you have to be 18 for some legal reason) and how at BET they are "black, so they know what a fake ID looks like".

Seeing them, I lamented the loss of my youth. One day you are just "in there". You're not a kid any more. You are old and you have responsibilities. You've had your turn around the block, you show the wear and tear of all those years of partying, and you feel the ache of the years as they creep in. I felt about 10,000 years old around all those kids, as if I had made a special emergence from the crypt for TRL. I wanted to tell them, be careful how you live your life from here on out because shit catches up with you and you are not young and gorgeous forever, make it last as long as you can. I wanted them to understand that time is the fire in which we burn.

Later, as I was walking to the subway, my cell rang, so I stopped to answer and smoke a cig. This young thug was freestyle rapping right there on the corner, which made me also lament the loss of any fascination with Times Square. He saw me looking at him and the rap turned into something about me looking at him, so I just gave a smile and my street nod, and then...the freestyle lyrics suggested that I "step up to the mic" and compete. I politely declined.

In other news, my boss is out sick for an indefinate amount of time because she has SHINGLES of all things. I am worried about her -- it is an extremely painful affliction. Anyway, since I've had my promotion she has been in the office all of two days, and I saw not much of her at all at the Big Event. So I'm just doing the things I think I'm supposed to be doing, and hopefully...I am keeping up with all that goes on in this place.

Now I clock out and go hunt my costume for All Hallow's Eve.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Madonna on TRL

Madonna on TRL
Originally uploaded by butch stroll.
Yes, I was on the sidewalk with the screaming kids, many of whom were about half my age.

Sunday, October 16, 2005


I'm a blogging machine today! I'm also very gay today. I am in fact very gay, but I'm not really gay-forward. But gay things keep coming up so here's some gay stuff for your asses.

I am a sore thumb in my workplace. I am caucasian for one thing, for another I am a bit "fashion forward" and a limit-tester of the dress code, and for another I am easily percieved as gay though for most people the fact is not confirmed. That's how I do it, a "don't ask don't tell" policy, if you will, until it comes up and then of course I wouldn't deny it. It would be like denying I speak English.

Anyway, there is a certain way that people try to encode their messages to me about knowing that I'm a big ole fruit.

Example one is from a woman, let's call her L. L, who is black, says to me, several times per week of a black male friend of hers, "I have a friend who reminds me so much of you! He looks just like you!" This of course means that her friend and I are ENTIRELY different, look NOTHING like one another, but both happen to be fags.

Example two is from a fellow Super Mega Assistant with whom I got well acquainted while working together at the Big Event recently. Let's call her Cee. Her husband is a Baptist minister. Cee is older than me, and has a son only a few years younger than me. While we were talking about something else, she asked me, randomly, if I like "Buffy". I told her that I never really got into it. She proceeds to tell me about her twenty-four year old son's obsession with Buffy and his HUGE collection of memorabilia and merchandise. He has been to the conventions and has photographs with the cast etc etc. I imagine this was her way of saying, "It's okay, see, I have a gay son who is obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer and collecting toys. So it is okay that you are a freak because I have one that grew up living in the parish with my husband and me!" Not that being a Buffy fan makes one gay (for example, father of two Rob Helpy Chalk), but there is a certain kind of obsession with the Buffster and her merchandise that does kind of signal homo-sex-u-al-ity, maybe.


I saw Julie Gold in concert tonight. Fabulous.

I'm going to go play a very gay Play Station 2 game next door for a while now. Holla.

Halloween is the Gay Christmas

Halloween is my favorite holiday because its proper celebration requires a costume. I love a good costume, and while I did take last year off from actually wearing one, this year I am bound and determined to have a costume. I have yet to surpass the year I went as a fairy complete with little sewn-in wings into a dress, fabulous wig, and makeup, that had even strait boys telling my drag-queen ass: "You win!" I was also a pretty good devil the year before last.

I always get down to the wire though, so I need to get started. This year I have some ideas. Let's hope one of these comes to successful fruition.

Baby Jane Hudson. (I would of course carry a doll version of myself, and preferably would have a partner as Joan Crawford in a wheelchair with a silver platter on her lap complete with dead rat.)

Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford as Mommie Dearest. (Cold creme covered face, severe eyebrows, hair pulled up in a towel-wrap, in bathrobe, carrying wire hanger. Preferably with a partner as Christina, in blond wig, pajamas, with Ajax powder thrown all over her and covered in hanger-whelps.)

Sexy/Drag Darth Vader. (Darth Vader mask (in pink would be awesome but impossible to find/difficult to create) with tight-ass spandex painted-on body suit, or, bikini, weather permitting.)

Pregnant Hooker. (Easy.)

Pregnant Nun who smokes. (Easier.)


The riots and subsequent arrests made in Toledo yesterday disturbs me on soo many levels, especially since this comes on the heals of the strandings in New Orleans after the hurricane, which was widely (and rightly) percieved as a racial issue. The biggest thing I worry about for this country is the racial tension which is disturbing and destructive. I wish it were a simple matter of people just being "color blind". It is often taken as a punch line, but the question that Rodney King asked during the L.A. riots -- "Can't we all just get along?" -- is profound in that the answer seems to be no, at least not for the time being.

I have to say that I have sympathy for the rioters, even if many of them were gang members, though the Nazi's got the response they wanted. Their whole function was meant to illicit that kind of response, thereby making the "angry black people" the bad guys and themselves the champions of both white people and free speech. Free speech a double edged sword -- a blessing and a bitch. As a firm believer in a broad interpretation of the First Ammendment, I have to accept that those hate filled Nazi's had the right to walk in Toledo. And the protesters of course had the right to protest their presence. Sadly, it does, as many people have said, seem inevitable that violence would erupt given that the Nazi's were allowed to march. (Again, they knew that too.)

More later.

"7 years" Meme (late, as usual)

Tagged by Brad

7 Things I plan to do

1) Finish my thesis.
2) Put together a costume for Halloween.
3) Move somewhere tropical, eventually.
4) Start volunteering
5) Write a novel
6) Quit smoking
7) Start back with yoga

7 Things I can do
1) Administratively assist.
2) School.
3) Make French toast.
4) Grow a beard in two days.
5) The two-person dance known as "the Kid 'n' Play" (it's okay to be jealous).
6) Drink you under the table.
7) Tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tounge.

7 Things I can’t do
1) Tie a tie.
2) Drive stick.
3) Function like a normal human being before 10:00 a.m.
4) Be mean.
5) Finish reading "Can You Forgive Her".
6) Resist a little debauchery here and there.
7) Relax.

7 Things that scare me
1) The future of this country.
2) The future of the world.
3) The impending oil crash.
4) People in those plush costumes.
5) Rodents.
6) Bugs.
7) My growing Tourrette's syndrome.

7 Random facts about me
1) Aries (not that I put any stock in that)
2) 6'3''
3) Favorite color is pink.
4) Registered Republican (gasp).
5) Never voted for a Republican presidential candidate.
6) Have a permanent retainer glued to the back of my bottom row of teeth.
7) Have my nose pierced.

7 Things I say the most
2) "I know that's right."
3) "The Butch Stroll."
4) "I have seen it all."
5) "What kind of life is this?"
6) "Are you kidding me?"
7) "Anyway."

Seven people to tag

All seven of you who read this!

Friday, October 14, 2005

The Printer

My first day back and I broke the printer at work today. Well, I didn't break it, it just broke. A label was stuck on one of the roller-thingies (technical term) which I managed to remove, however it keeps jamming now and I'm not sure I got all the Lego parts back in right. The thing is people far and wide in that place come to me to fix the equipment when it fails them, rather than the ENTIRE DEPARTMENT we have for that kind of thing. So I felt like I was upholding a fine tradition, and my own reputation, as I neglected the one jillion other things I needed to do to spend the better part of two hours trying to fix it. Finally I had to abandon it, leaving it to crumple paper into a fan-like shape all weekend. Monday I have to get that booger fixed. Printing is the heart of the office after all.

Speaking of printing, I have never seen so much Xeroxing go down in my life as at the Big Event. I kept saying, "HOW MANY TREES HAVE TO DIE FOR THE WORLD CHURCH OF ASSIMILATION TO HAVE A DANG MEETING?" No one really saw the humor in it, but I wasn't really joking any way.

Tonight Kevondrala and I are pulling a Kate Moss (I, of course, will be Kate, and he will be Naomi Campbell as he is 1/8th black) and heading out to Jo Jo K & Co.'s Libra Birthday Fest downtown. Good times to be had by all.

In other news, ole Madge Ritchie is fixing to blow up on your asses. The new CD is coming and so is the maelstrom of publicity and promotion. Call 888-2-CONFESS now and leave your confessions.

Drop it like it's hot.

Well, Mary Kate Olsen is dropping out of college. I hope she realizes that this means she is destined for a life of minimum wage, dead-end jobs.

Back in the Hizzy

I'm back at work today, after being at The Big Event since Monday. It was a good experience. We actually came back to NY for part of the meeting which took place downtown. I took a tour of the United Nations which was very informative, and our lovely tour guide made it very enjoyable. I have a new appreciation for the UN after our tour. My organization's interest is in the Millenium Goals of the UN, which are all worthy goals that the world's leaders can take care of if they just do it.

Also of particular interest to me from the whole shebang was a discussion of female genital mutilation, sometimes called "clitorectomy", which raised a lot of questions from the people present from countries where it is a cultural tradition that still takes place. I will write more about this later, as it will come up in my thesis as it relates to autonomy and liberty in medicine. It is a tricky moral issue. It's not the kind of thing that should be forced on women, but many young women want it because of their traditions and what it means for them in terms of their identities within their culture and the way they self-identify.

Ok, back to work. The thing about being out of the office for a few days is that when you return you have a few days to catch up on. Duh!

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Riding that train, high on cocaine...

I am a big fan of the immortal Boy George, even though he is constantly mean to my #1 homegirl ole Madge Ritchie. I liked him in the 80's, I liked him in the 90's, and I like him now as DJ/Broadway star. Anyway, Boy George is the latest
cocaine convict

Boy George called police early on Friday to report a burglary. But when police arrived a little after 3 a.m. the officers found the door open and were greeted by the singer who asked them, "What's up?"

Police spokesman Det. Eric Crisafi said Boy George then staggered about his apartment apparently in "a drugged stupor" and police found a small amount of cocaine next to his computer.

The singer was arrested and held at a New York police station before being transferred to Manhattan Criminal Court for arraignment on drug possession charges as well as for falsely reporting a burglary.

It was unclear what prison term, if any, he faces since police said they had yet to determine with precision what quantity of drugs may have been in his apartment.

"What's up?" indeed, George.

Friday, October 07, 2005

Kate Moss Snorting Coke: The Video

Just when you think all the links you follow to Kate Moss's coke-snorting video are giving you "cease and desist" messages instead of the goods, The Butch Stroll comes through with the footage, baby. [via Stuntcook]

In other news, why has no one made the Kate Moss + Versace connection yet? Donatella's out of rehab, Kate's in rehab, all the fashion houses have dropped her on her powdered nose costing her jillions of dollars -- so maybe Versace can hook ole girl up? I mean, with Donatella knowing how it is and all.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

This is my 200th post.

ABC News reports that Police Investigate New York Subway Terror Threat. Of course we hear from everyone to remain calm -- there's no indication that it's "credible". Meanwhile they are "sparing no expense" in police presence, bomb sniffing dogs, etc. It's scary.

Meanwhile, those other terrorists, mice, have infiltrated the Upper West Side. Reports have been made of sitings in my office building, which is on the UWS. Of course, there are always stories about rats and mice and rodents in general problems in this city. It's time to wage war on these critters, I say. Who let the dogs out? No, let the cats out already!

In other news, scientists have recreated the 1918 bird flu, to, you know, study it and shit. I agree that we need to ask some questions about who's keeping tabs on this kind of thing, what with the recent escapee lab rats that had the black plague.

Shandi has not added me on It's kind of painful -- I've been an adamant supporter from day one, for so long. I loved her when she was the underdog. Well she ain't the underdog no more, bitches!

I met with my advisor tonight, and we talked about the bird flu as well as physician assisted suicide among other things. She gave me her to-be published paper to read. I feel better about writing my thesis, but it is still a daunting task. I have a lot to think about.

I'm exhausted. I've been feeling sick and diahrea-ish lately. Bad time for this, since I have to go out of town next week for Big Event #2.

More later.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Only the good die young

Just a wierd homage to a dead fetus, but who am I to judge? The pictures tell the story of Joshua Michael, complete with photos of homemade shoebox casket and kids digging his grave. [via Uncool Central]

Sunday, October 02, 2005

From Walgreen's To Piano's

My favorite America's Next Top Model contestant ever, Shandi Sullivan, now has a recurring Monday night gig at Piano's. Jo Jo K and I are going to stop in tomorrow night. God help me too, cause I'm don't have the going out on weeknights in me like I used to.

If you know my number, order me a lesbian phone call please.

Why this service hasn't been available for years, I don't know. But I do know that I'd like my Lesbian Phone Call from the most militant and dykish as possible, please. Holla!

[via Bitch Phd via Uffish]

Vote for Summer, and It'll be Summer All Year Long

I didn't really care for the movie Napoleon Dynamite. Some people think this makes me a horrible person, because that movie is so "beloved". As someone else said, and I can't recall where, Napoleon is supposed to be a loveable, genius goof -- only he is neither loveable or a genius. The only thing that really made me laugh out loud was Tina Majorino's side ponytail.

Well the movie has spawned the popularity of "Vote for Pedro" t-shirts.

Last night I saw no less than seventeen thousand people wearing their damn "Vote for Pedro" tees.

So I have decided that I am going to create "Vote for Summer Wheatly" tees just to be defiant. On the back, they'll say, "For Summer All Year Long".

Saturday, October 01, 2005


Update: Worst fears confirmed. Rodentia has infilltrated. Meow Kitty (aka "The Slayer") is pulling double duty. She killed two (TWO!) yesterday. She has only one tooth, so she has to catch them and break their necks. She is a very smart cat, but I wonder if it's instinct to just know how to do that. Anyway, I have been freaking out since she started her stint as minutecat of our apartment's borders.

Last night I went to see S.D.A. perform in Mortified in Chelsea. He was great; I was very proud of him. Afterwards S.D.A., me, and his friend went out for a drink before S.D.A. and I returned home. I am absolutely in love with his friend. Sadly, as is the story of my life, I am pretty sure I'm not his highest ideal.

In other news, tonight I'm going to eat Thai food and then hit the shadiest of shady bars in Jackson Heights, Queens, to celebrate Jo Jo K's birthday. (The last time I took a tour of the Heights I got into an actual physical fight that could have quickly turned into a broken-bottle-sliced-face disruption, had my large-and-in-charge friend R., with whom I am also in love for entirely different reasons, intervened. And that was uneventful by J.H. standards.) The Heights is The Butch Stroll indeed.

I'm tired, and feeling a little sick lately, but a gallon of coffee and little blue pills courtesy of Lito are pulling me through. So much for a nap, Jo Jo just texted to meet her at 7:30. So I'd better start washing myself.

Joke from Popbitch

Donald Rumsfeld is briefing the President, "Yesterday, three Brazilian soldiers were killed. "OH NO!" cries the President, "...but how many is a brazillion?"