Thursday, December 28, 2006

Showtime at the Apollo

Today at 1:00 PM, James Brown will be hauled by horse-drawn carriage to the Apollo Theater to lie in state. When I passed the Apollo on my way to work this morning, there are already people lined up, and news crews staking out. My boyfriend (that is, some stranger in a hard hat that I fell in love with on the bus) commented on how packed the joint is already. There is no way I'm taking that route home from work, with all the general population not to mention celebrity entourages and security that will abound.

I have GOT to start going to bed at a decent hour.

Damn you, WoW.

In other news, I went to the gym tonight for the first time in months. Much like employment, I had forgotten how much it sucks.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Tuesday, December 26, 2006


I'm back.

Christmas was great at home. I love those people.

As you may or may not be aware, I have in previous posts expressed my obsession with the bedbug epidemic that is sweeping the nation. Before it became headline news, however, many people, myself included, did not even know bedbugs were real. Most of us just thought they were a fiction from the good-night rhyme.

Apparantly this store that I spotted in Ye Olde Hometown chose their unfortunate business name before realizing it is possibly the WORST name for a MATTRESS store one could ever devise:

Something tells me business is not going to be so great.

Speaking of mattresses, I told my aunt, when prompted, that I attend Saint Mattress of the Holy Posturpedic every Sunday. My dad had to explain the joke.

In other news, I'm at Bitch, PhD for a few days, pretending like I know shit. Holler at me over there.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Yeah, hi.

I am overwhelmed at work right now with a scenario that is ugly to say the least. Basically, it’s a falls-to-me mistake that has been in the making all year, and my boss –who is a special breed of boss – is going to be pissed to say the least when she finds out. It’s not the kind of thing where I will just be cupped a little; it’s the kind of thing where she will melt my face off with laser beams from her eyes. It involves non-lie statements that will now be perceived as lies. It involves reassurance and comfort that should have never been provided, given the circumstances. It involves about $15,000.00. If I don’t get fired over it, then I will never hear the end of it. I will be constantly reminded of it for as longs as I work here, and for as long as I work here I can kiss any aforementioned thought of a promotion goodbye.

Damn. If I could go back in time a few months I could save this. I’ve tried everything in my power to resolve it and it looks, now, like there is no hope. All this time I have worked so hard to get the trust and confidence of this woman, it being so important to me for her to know how much I want to be indispensable, and now this. Back to zero with the trust and confidence. I’ve fucked up before but not like this. I have to tell her, so I’m sitting here typing this waiting for the phone to ring. Kevondrala counseled me on how to approach this and I appreciate the advice and comfort. Also grateful for S.D.’s listening ear. But I don’t know how I’ll bring myself to do this, to say the words. I am in hive city right now.

UPDATE: I spoke to her. I still have a face. Everything is going to be okay...I think...kind of. Whatever happens, I feel relieved now. Maybe people will stop asking me why I'm white as a ghost and look like I've packed for Christmas under my eyes.

Meanwhile, Christmas is upon us. I have so much to do in anticipation of my journey home – I have to clean the house so Jo Jo K won’t think I am the most disgusting person she has ever known when she takes care of the cat, I have to pack, I have to finish shopping which I will have to do down there in the Motherland, and I have to brace myself for the multi-person personification of dysfunction that is my family, myself included. Anyway, I leave Friday. So, miss me, okay?

BUT the good news of the season is that, upon my return on December 26, I am honorted to be guest blogging – a first! – at the incomparable Bitch, PhD. I won a contest, see. I’m very excited…a little attention (or a lot, as the case will be on Bitch’s blog) goes a long way for me, an attention-starved self-pitying mess of humanity. She says she's going to slave me on blogging and comment-handling, and I say, I willingly submit!

Now I go into the wild…also known as “file cabinets”. Holla!

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Freezing to Death: Surely a Horrible Way to Go Out

Just before the story of the mountain climbers lost in Oregan started, K-rock gave me the book Into the Wild. It’s an intriguing true story about a young man, Christopher McCandles, who gave his college fund to charity and then set out to be a vagabond. He was from a well-to-do family, a good upbringing, a solid education…but he abandoned it all, took on the name Alexander Supertramp, and headed out on an amazing journey throughout North America, until he finally made his way to Alaska for his “Alaskan Odyssey”. I relate to him in profound ways. Though I’ve yet to do it, I’ve said many times that I’d like to run away and be a hermit. A big difference between me and him, however, is that I’d head to tropical climates – not the frozen tundra.

The author, through conversations with Chris’s family, friends, and people he met along the way, is able to describe Chris aka Alex as someone who was deeply introspective, compassionate, and smart, yet bullheaded and possessing enough hubris that he would eventually starve and freeze to death only to be found as a 65 pound corpse in an abandoned bus in the woods. (It’s ironic that he wanted to live for an extended period of time in the “wilderness” to prove something to himself about “independence”, but by Alaskan standards he would’ve been considered only in the woods…with a number of cabins not too many miles out, and a major highways about 30 miles away.)

An old man to whom he became close said that the two shared a social need that would be trumped by a need for long stretches of solitude. I know that feeling intimately. When the author compares Chris’s story to that of other idealists and romantics, including the story of his own youth, I feel related to them, though not so much into the nature-lover aspect as the desire to be left alone so as to get used to my own loneliness and learn to love that awful feeling, and to understand the paradox of hating the social yet needing it every now and then. Additionally, one major thing keeping me from becoming a hermit is lack of hot-water-on-demand, which I need more than food. I know it’s not a realistic idea, but it is alluring.

Unlike these people, I am not young enough to retain the thought of being immortal. Rather, I am consumed by thoughts of death and mortality. I had this awareness from a young age and I’ve learned to live with it. I’m not afraid of death, I’m afraid of pain. And I’m just narcissistic enough to want not to die if only because, being dead, I wouldn’t get to see who turned out for the funeral, or, for that matter, if anybody made good on my wishes to cremate me.

Second Life and World of Warcraft

A while back at Unfogged I read a post about Second Life, which is an online "virtual reality". In the Second Life world, you can earn and spend money (lindens), which actually translate into real US dollars. In fact, a few people have become real-life millionaires by buying, selling, and building "virtual" real estate and things like clothing. I checked it out and played around with it for a little while, and though I was endlessly fascinated by the concept, I found it kind of boring. It's not really a game -- there is no objective per se -- and I sure as hell ain't going to get rich on building cyber-houses with my lack of interest and lack of computer skills joining forces. Besides, a huge number of people just want to have sex. And if I'm going to seek out some sex, it ain't going to be with a "virtual" penis. More than anything, Second Life seems like a chat room with decorated avatars. Boooring.

Scatty, hearing me talk about this, told me about World of Warcraft, which is similar in concept -- that concept being Massively Multi-Player Online Role Playing Game (MMORPG) -- to Second Life, but a billion times more fun. It's a game, unlike Second Life, and it's played alongside several million other subscribers who you can talk to, team up with, duel, etc. Scatty surprised me with a gift of the World of Warcraft CD's, and I'm here to tell you, at risk of sounding like the biggest geek-nerd-dork in the world, that I am absorbed in it. It's a great gift because it's something that a) I would have never bought for myself and b) I really enjoy. I've had it for two days and have had trouble breaking away. I can see how people become obsessed and commit countless hours to playing this game. I'm still figuring out the ins and outs as it is very complicated...and with all the other people online playing, and all the choices for what kind of creature you can be, and all the "quests" you can choose among, there are a seemingly infinite number of scenarios. All I want for Christmas is my productivity and good posture back.

Friday, December 15, 2006

"Them Pentecostal men is HOT"

A little gratuitous Betty Butterfield for your ass. Happy Friday!

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Bah, Humbug

I am so over Christmas and have been since late October when the madness begins in this day and age. I would boycott present-buying altogether, but I have no choice but to participate in fourth quarter retail salvation because if I don't get anything for the immediate family, my grandmother, and my little 3 year old cousin, I will be accused of Satanism when I go home. Even the going home is kind of mandatory. Can't we just enjoy the Reason for the Season? That being, time off of work and The Sound of Music on network television?

I encourage everyone to boycott Christmas gifts! The War on Christmas starts there. Take up arms with me, ye merry gentlemen (and gentlewomen, and gentle-gender-fluids).

That said, if you MUST purchase a gift because of your years of indoctrination into the consumer culture, you can get me an upgrade on my Flickr account (screen name "butch stroll"), or purchase from ye olde Amazon Wishlist.

This can only mean that I am still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model

Here at the World Church of Assimilation, I recieved a call from a man I know in the communications/art department. They are looking for people "with interesting faces" to be photographed on Friday for a poster that will be distributed to all WCA affililates throughout the world to honor the last fifty years of Assimilation. And they chose me! Of course I have to have a "test shot" done today, and I am rather grizzly with my full beard (a symptom of the profound depression I experience from being so damned beautiful is that I stop shaving). So, by Friday I have to shave. If they like my test shot. Which they will. Beacause, to quote Edina Monsoon, I am thin and gorgeous! I will not let Tyra down...I will have passion, I will have hunger in my eyes.

In other news, Paris Hilton is spotted with a coke booger (and I don't mean Brandon Davis, though he was with her), and more celebrities are finding Scientology. What is it about being rich and beautiful that makes people so stupid? How anybody takes Scientology seriously, only the aliens know.

Monday, December 11, 2006

The Other September 11

Allow me to step away from my recent and incessent talk of such things as Britney Spear's cootch and heinous food products to talk about an actual current event of importance.

On 9/11/1973, Augusto Pinochet siezed the government of Chile from democratically elected president Salvador Allende in a military coup, and promptly gathered, tortured, and killed a large chunk of his oponents in, among other places, the national soccer stadium. President Allende, rather than be kidnapped, killed himself with a shot to the head.
Ariel Dorfman
made his ironic escape to the United States--ironic, because as a child his parents had left the United States for Chile to escape the McCarthyism of the time. Pinochet would be dictator into the 1990's. In all, nearly 4,000 people were tortured and killed by Pinochet's regime.

Pinochet has now died, leaving the country with mixed emotions:

To his supporters, General Augusto Pinochet was a national savior who prevented Chile from succumbing to communism.

Other Chileans are expressing conflicting emotions over Pinochet's death: satisfaction that a man they regard as a murderer has perished, yet sadness that a wave of lawsuits brought against him are now moot.

Everyone who knows me knows that I am a diehard lover of this great country, the U.S.A. However, I can criticize it too, as is my right and duty. The reason "the world hates us" as we hear so often, is because of things like Augusto Pinochet's rise to power. (Yes, this "they hate us!" was going on long before George Bush and his "let's do a 'study group' after we fuck up Iraq" approach to foreign policy.) Nutcases like Hugo Chavez don't get all paranoid and start calling our presidents the devil out of the blue.

The CIA, with Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger, actively, directly, and not-even-so-covertly worked to undermine Salvador Allende and his socialist government. This was a government the people there chose for themselves. Elections could have had Allende removed, and probably would have eventually removed socialism from Chile. But rather than wait it out, the U.S. "stop it before it spreads" approach to communism was enacted.

Pinochet came to power and political freedom, including freedom of speech and assembly, ended promptly. A lot of people died, but communism was in fact stopped, and the economy prospered while Chile rose to one of the most prosperous nations in South America at the time. If and when Iraq becomes stable, we'll say all the "collateral damage" was worth it...just like many people say that Chile's prosperity was worth the death of civil liberties and the death of thousands of people.

More on this later, right now I have to look up pictures of anorexics and babies snatched from Africa. Oh, and by the way the dermotologist told me today I have hives. HIVES. WTF? I blame this entirely on stress and hold The World Church of Assmilation fully accountable.
Today, from Page Six, Anna Wintour enters the too-skinny model debate:

December 11, 2006 -- LEADERS of New York's fashion industry will meet soon to figure out how to deal with increasing calls for laws to keep dangerously underfed models off the catwalks.

Vogue Editor-in-Chief Anna Wintour is spearheading the effort to get the session together. "Anna held a symposium on the issue, and she's planning another meeting this week," said one model agency chief. "We would much rather come up with a way of self-policing ourselves than have regulations rammed down our throats."

The head of another modeling agency said, "Everyone should take a look at it, and if there's a problem, let's fix it."

Italy's government and its fashion chiefs said last week they're working on a plan to crack down on ultra-thin models who appear to be suffering from eating disorders.

The move came three months after Spain passed a law requiring that every model have a body-mass index of at least 18 (a measure of body fat). Last month, Brazilian model Ana Carolina Reston died at age 21 from anorexia.

Besides the beauties' health, the fashion honchos fear they'll be blamed for promoting unhealthy body images for generations of teenage girls.

Washington Post fashion writer Robin Givhan says many models today are "pale, almost to the point of translucent, and astonishingly thin. They look positively rickety. Seeing one in a swimsuit can make you shudder. They are not sexy or even particularly pretty. How can they be when they look as though the life has been sucked out of them?"

The skinniest seem to come from Eastern Europe. Givhan names Snejana Onopka, Vlada Roslyakova and Sasha Pivovarova.

"Over a typical runway season, the same models appear so often on different runways that it is easy to become immune to how shockingly thin they are. After a while, it seems normal that a model's thighs are the same circumference as a 12-year-old's upper arm," Givhan wrote.

"If the industry does not think carefully about the current aesthetic," she warned, "what comes next could be truly ghastly."

It's considered a delicacy in China...

I love me some Dim Sum. It is a highlight of my weekends, wherein the Council of Divas Subcommittee on Dim Sum gathers at Evergreen Cafe on the UES to engourge our fat asses on a large variety of food. The girl who pushes the cart sees us coming and starts filling up our table right away. She knows how we roll. Where most people might order a sticky rice for the table, we order a sticky rice for each of us, for example. We eat a lot. When done properly, no further meals are required for the day.

S.D. is not a fan of dim sum. I joke with him about being the pickiest eater to have ever lived (yet he somehow enjoys crazy shit like the jalapeno flavored candy sold at Margaritas, not to mention the dubiously sanitary or tasty pudding cups made in-store). That's fine, you can't help what you like and dislike. S.D. jokes back by telling me to enjoy my "chicken feet" at dim sum.

Now I need you to understand that as a vodoun master and very able conjurer of the darrk tricks, I know of the power of a chicken foot. However, I'm not into eating them.

Yesterday before I left for dim sum, he said just that, and I laughed, and told him that in all my journeys to dim sum I have yet to see an actual chicken's foot. Though we are truly on the the butch stroll in the dim sum situation, I think they still keep certain items hidden low in the cart from the Western eyes that might find them particularly gross. (Once my former boss, who is Korean, took me to a Korean restaurant for lunch and, knowing he was One of Them, they strait up put a dish of crickets on the table. I think he was a little embarassed, because he pretended like he didn't see them. So did I. But I digress.) Having learned how we roll, I think the young lady put them towards the top to tempt us...

Anyway, we're ordering and Jo Jo K spots the chicken feet in the cart and orders them. Kevondrala warned her that they are nasty -- he is the one who knows about all these mysteries of the orient in the first place -- but I somehow missed all this taking place, and went in for one with my chopsticks, thinking they were spare ribs until I realized there were four prongs on the fucker which are in fact toes.

Jo Jo tried to eat one -- sincerely wanting to just "try" them -- but couldn't bring her self to eat much of it. It's mostly fat that you suck off the bone. At any rate, nasty.

So there in front of me for the rest of the meal is a metal bowl of chicken feet. As the staff came around to take dirty dishes away, they repeatedly ignored that one. Kevondrala kept insisting that we're insulting their culture by making fun of the chicken feet, but there was not much we could do. I trid to stack another bowl on top if it but the man came by, removed the top bowl, noticed the bottom bowl was still full (of chicken feet) and left it there again. I was not permitted to request that he remove them. They were with us, and they were going to stay. Like the crickets, the uneaten chicken feet were the elephant in the room.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

How Cocaine is Made

Fascinting, to say the least.

[via Left Behinds]

America's Next Top Travesty of Justice

Melrose was robbed.

We'll see though. I bet she ends up with more work and name recognition than ole what's-her-face.

Monday, December 04, 2006

First they came for the hotels...

Then they came for apartments. Then, my sources have it, they came for the Museum of Natural History (which I havn't seen reported in the news, but is no doubt related to the school-age sleepovers they have there in the summer). Then they came for Ralph Lauren. Then they came for the public schools.

I have two friends who have two friend each who have documented bedbugs in their living quarters. Can we please bring DDT back and stop these motherfuckers? With all the afflictions that have come upon me lately, I'm bound to be next, and I'm not having that.

Can no one make a sandwich like McDonalds?

If you're looking for a definition of "corporate arrogance", or maybe even "corporate ridiculousness", here you go.

Meow Kitty, Mad Max, and More

I am at the lowest point I’ve been in years. My self-esteem is like at zero and the stresses and mistakes and afflictions of this life ending 2006 on a less than positive note. Hopefully in the New Year I’ll have a rebirth. In the meantime here are some trivial observations and fun facts from The Butch Stroll.

First: Why I Should Not and Will Not Ever Have Children, Example 16,249. Meow Kitty (the demon beast pictured) has taken in the past month to a new behavior, where rather than run back and forth from the kitchen indicating that she is hungry and needs someone to fill her bowl with food, she now HOWLS noises unlike anything I’ve ever heard before, until you acknowledge her and, well, fill the bowl. She’s also taken to demanding MORE food than usual since her Father has been gone, because she has learned that I will giver her more than she usually gets. (The reason we have to feed her regularly, rather than just leaving the bowl full, is because she has only one tooth and therefore cannot eat dry food. We have to scoop her nasty ass wet food as needed. Seriously. One tooth.)

So the noises are irritating as all hell, they are ungodly and start without fail right when I am falling asleep, or right before I have to get up when I’m savoring the last few minutes of sleep I have before a long workday. Today was not a good day for me, however, and I gave her the last of her food I had on hand, so of course a few hours later she starts with the screeching. I try to explain to her that I have not made it out of the house yet to purchase her more food, and that I have to do some things and then take a shower before I will be able to go out, but of course she does not understand this because she is a cat and her brain is the size of a cherry tomato.

I get in the shower, and mistakenly leave my door open. Meow Kitty knows that she is absolutely forbidden from entering my room. But when I come out of the shower, homegirl is in there chillin on my couch with her nasty ass, and I about lost it. I yelled at her, and she ran out, and as she scurried past me I gave her a hard shove with my flip-flop. Then she came back for more, so I turned the vacuum on and in a Penny-gets-burned-with-the-iron moment, I vacummed her tail for a minute and she freaked. She ran into her father’s room and was silent for a long time. I felt so bad about it I even petted her and begged her to forgive me. Good thing she can’t call Child Protective Services. At any rate, I eventually got her some food and she was over it upon my return – back with the noises.

On another note, Scatty and I watched Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome last night, which I have to say is one of my favorite movies of all time. “You think I don’t know the law? Wasn’t it me who wrote it? And I say that this man has broken the law! Right or wrong, we had a deal. And the law says, ‘bust a deal, face the wheel.’” What’s brilliant about that scene is that Aunty Entity is actually the one who has broken the law by setting up Master Blaster for a battle in Thunderdome, but like the true politician she is, she spins is around to make Max the one who has broken the law…a different law even. But I digress.

In light of the recent controversy surrounding Mel Gibson, I couldn’t help but expect him every now and then to blurt out some old-fashioned Jew hating. Like when he is being hired to kill Blaster, instead of saying to Aunty, “Real civilized!”, I think he’s going to say, “Bartertown is run by JEWS!” Or when he finds the children, and the tell him their primitive legends about their origins on the edge of the desert after a plane crash, I expect him to be all, “The JEWS caused the Poxyclipse!” It sucks that Mel had to be exposed as an anti-Semite, because I really love that movie.

More later.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Getting Around Government Internet Restrictions

You may have noticed and/or, which are websites that allow people in India and Pakistan access blocked sites.

The latest in anti-censorship technology is Psiphon which is

a web-based utility [that] lets individuals in a country that censors the internet sign on to a server that gives them secure access to web pages anywhere, bypassing government restrictions.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Sometimes, I'm Kind of Mean: A Play in One Act

Setting: Tee and Dee are talking amongst themselves in Dee's cubicle area

Tee: I never knew that you're taller than me.
Dee: It's because you don't have your heels on.
Tee: Yeah, my heels make me very tall. I look like a drag queen with my heels on.
Stroll Passing by with perfect timing: IT AIN'T THE HEELS, HONEY.

Most Popular Science Myths

I love things like this because I hate false information floating around being widely accepted. However, some of the "myths" in the link are true!

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Monday, November 27, 2006

Study: Humpback Whales Have "Human" Brain Cells

The one pictured in the article is clearly not one of the brighter ones, though.

Sunday, November 26, 2006


There may be some old entries showing up in my feed. In case anyone notices and/or cares, it's happening because I'm slowly going through older entries and giving them the labels now available in Blogger Beta.

Be A Man

A little gratuitious Hole for a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Friday, November 24, 2006

The Irony is Lost...

Bungalo in Astoria's gay night advertises, "Come As You Are":

Of course, "fashionable dress required" lol

Velvet D'Amour in Her Own Words

Here is two parts of an interview with Size 28 model Velvet D'Amour from "Entertainment Tonight".

She seems like a smart lady.

She's right at the end of that second one, that what should matter is health, not weight, though they are of course related. I think that it is only in a civilization with such abundance, like the United States, that we can have such a big problem with people being overweight. Similarly, it is only in a culture with such abundance that eating disorders exist. Whether or not anorexia and bulimia are "diseases", in places where famine is killing people, there aren't anorexics--there are only people who want to eat. They aren't killing themselves like Ana Carolina Reston did in Brazil or like Nataliya Gotsii looks like she's trying to do. As someone who would like to be as slim as possible and who has as many issues with my male body as any woman in the world does with her, I cannot fathom the willpower it would take to literally starve yourself to death.

D-Lux Motel, Oak Lawn, Illinois

I have a longstanding fascination with seedy hotels. Depending on your part of the country, the word may be “seedy”, “shady”, “sketchy” or “skeezy”. But you know the concept, and you know the places. Most likely, your town has one…or a few.

I am not quite sure why I have this fascination. I think it stems from my fascination with all things mysterious. What goes on behind the closed doors of these places of respite – places that have all the makings of short-stay lodging but often have people who live in them, or use them as some kind of base for exploits of the criminal kind, from prostitution to drugs to much, much more nefarious doings.

In Austin, Texas, there are many of them on Lamar Boulevard and Congress Avenues and in Orlando, Florida they line Orange Blossom Trail from one end to the other. In New York City they are scattered far and wide through all five boroughs. In Winston-Salem, North Carolina they are on the outskirts of downtown on Broad Street and the appropriately named Shady Lane that is surrounded by churches. And as I discovered during my recent trip to Chicago, there is even one in the relatively affluent suburb of Oak Lawn, right across the street from the Hilton.

I mentioned to a friend of mine years ago that I was going to create a coffee table book based on the seediest hotels in this country. Each subject would be photographed, profiled, and written up for a nice size book that may not be of general interest, but would be interesting to say the least. He still asks me about it sometimes. Of course I have a million good ideas but ideas don’t make themselves concrete. So I figure I could just turn this idea into some blog entries…when in doubt, put it on the blog, right?

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: The D-Lux Motel. Note the selling point here is “mirrored waterbeds”. I wish I had had time to photograph the A-frame building, the brick-wall-enclosed parking area with the other signage, and that I’d had a better camera than my cell phone with me. Nonetheless, this is number one in what I hope becomes a large collection of intriguing, disgusting, dangerous places to lay your head.

Related: Seedy Theaters

Wednesday, November 22, 2006


I'll be having my traditional non-traditional Thanksgiving tomorrow with my next door neighbor Scatty D. Arbuckle. I'll do my usual call to the family where they pass the phone around, and then have something with absolutely no relation to turkey for dinner.

I hope everyone that reads this has a great Thanksgiving. And I hope that like me, no matter how miserable your life is, you know you have a lot to be happy about. :)


Kylie Minogue Performs "Vogue" by Madonna

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Cereal & Milk

Just cute, sweet and innocent enough for me to...perv on.

Addictive Game: QWERTY Warrior

Type fast...or die!

Sunday, November 19, 2006

The Game

I was led to the game and am now strangely fascinated by it. I give you a link to the instructions so that you, too, may be involved for the rest of your life.

[via apostropher]

In other news, I'm back from Chicago, and soon will post all that went on their, in cryptic code language of course, because, it was top secret work of The World Church of Assimilation I was doing.

Also, an update coming soon about ROBBERY 2006. Though it's quite embarrassing and infuriorating, I think I may be ready to talk about it. Somebody get me Barbara Walters.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I'm knee deep in blogging!

Click to watch Phil deal with a busy day of blogging.


Bon Voyage

I'm going to Chicago tomorrow morning through Sunday night. Please stop crying!

If you know anything about Oak Lawn I should know before I arrive, leave me a comment or email me.

Peace to the m. east!

Monday, November 13, 2006

More Cocodorm Scandal!

Remember the Cocodorm scandal involving HIV/AIDS/STD allegations and all the commentary that ensued?

Then there was a lawsuit about how being in Cocodorm pornography has hurt his "mainstream" acting career?

And then there were additional allegations of rape [the post on this at has apparantly been removed for some reason], different from the one I mentioned in my first post on the "Dorm"?

Well now there is a strait up fight complete with frying pans and hammers in the mix, on YouTube no less, noted as simply, "gay fight":

Oh Cocodorm...shit like this was bound to happen...? I just want to take them all in. Of course I would never be able to handle all that horny young gay male agression. Oh who am I kidding, of course I would.

You Are Going To Be Alright

You Are Going To Be Alright
Originally uploaded by hawaii.
Let's all hope this is true.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Richard Dawkins on C-SPAN

Richard Dawkins is on C-SPAN cupping people left and right. It's in Lynchburg, Virginia, home of Liberty University, so a lot of those students are in the audience and, with the confidence and self-assuradness that only a college student can muster, they keep approaching the mic thinking they're going to "stump" him with what they've thought about casually in the shadow of their parents' religions versus what he has devoted his entire professional career to studying, writing about, and advancing. One lady asked, simply, "What if you're wrong?" That was her question for Richard Dawkins. He gave her the verbal cupping of her life, ending by noting that she should consider, in fact, what if she is wrong about Poseidon at the bottom of the sea.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Sitemeter Reveals My Favorite Search Ever


"Darth Vader Being Sassy", I love it.

They were no doubt searching for this:

Sith Drag 8

Friday, November 10, 2006

Frat Boys Sue Borat

Following the news that Pam Anderson was in on the joke, which seemed obvious given that no crazy-looking mutha like Borat would be allowed to get near her at a book signing especially given she likely has thousands of stalkers, the frat boys from the Borat film are suing, claiming they were drunk when they signed their releases and didn't know what was really going on. This brings us back to Murky's Thoughts on why Borat may be bad. It's funny though, because I saw the frat boy scene and the frat boys as the most seemingly informed. They seemed like they were acting, even if they were drunk. They also seemed like jackasses, but don't all frat boys? I know, I know...unfair.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

I don't know those people.

This morning Meow Kitty was freaking out, so I was up at the crack of dawn. I was headed into the shower when I heard banging, but I was uncertain as to whether it was at my door. So I took my buck-naked ass to the peep hole and the strait-up VICE SQUAD is knocking on the neighbors' adjacent to my apartment. Finally they answered the door, the vice went in, and, almost as quickly as they had came, they left, with the lady of the house standing at the door watching them go. File under WTF.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Oldie But a Goodie: Rock the Vote


Vote today!

Monday, November 06, 2006

Vaginal Farts are Fun

This is probably not safe for work, but it has me laughing so hard:

Yes, I am like 12 years old.

NY Marathon, Borat, Dim Sum, and Bloomingdales

Yesterday I had my usual Sunday dim sum with Jo Jo and Kevondrala, after which we saw Borat. When Jo Jo and I arrived to the area on the Upper East Side (the location of our new dim sum place), we realized that the New York Marathon was happening. It was just a trickle of people at the head of the race coming through, so the cop let us cross the street, but urged that we hurry. When we got across the street, Jo Jo proclaimed that we had run the marathon, so we high-fived, and then gourged ourselves on the tasty little mysterious treats of China.

Borat was hilarious. I had never caught much of the Ali G Show, but I understood the concept and knew K-rock and others are big fans. There is talk of how it is mean or offensive, or what have you, but all I have to say for it for now is that it makes a pretty funny statement about, if nothing else, people's true feelings. For example, at the rodeo, when Borat tells the man that in his country they string gays up, and the man replies that "we're trying to get that done here too" it's funny because there are a million people like that man, which is not funny. It's hard to make sense out of. At any rate, it's not "funny" in the very racist Jesus is Magic sense.

I has insisted that we see the one o'clock show so I could get back home at a decent time, as they had insisted that we beat the dim sum rush by arriving at 11:30. It all worked out fine even with having to walk around the entire NY Marathon to cross the street, but on the way back to the train station I had to urinate, at which point I pondered on how Starbucks's are everywhere until you really have to pee. There the only place in the City that are pretty free with their bathrooms (i.e., you don't have to make a purchase to use the bathroom and/or sit down for a minute. For this reason alone I wholeheartedly support the Starbucksification of NYC.). So I went into Bloomingdales, pissed, and then found myself looking at ties in the Men's Store which cost like my week's salary.

In other news, my boss sent me a text message this morning, which was a first. I think my co-worker taught her how.

More later. Lots of work to do!

"As you age, you'll find yourself wrong on some things, right on other things, but please, in the process, don't be arrogant." --Ted to Rich

I had never really seen or heard of Ted Haggard before his sex-and-meth scandal, but if I would have I could've told you he's a big ole queen. Look at him getting all sassy with Richard Dawkins:

[via Unfogged]

Saturday, November 04, 2006

My new BFF Parker Posey

Usually the names are changed to protect the innocent (and the guilty) on this here blog, but today allow me to drop a name. Parker Posey! Last night S.D.A. invited me to go with him to a friend's 70's themed birthday party, so I put on my new pants and we went down the shindig. As I will always be there to drink for free, I became increasingly drunk, which leads to increased working of nerves, and after a while I was no longer self-conscious in my kind of highwater pants but rather feeling it a little too much, in people's faces and dancing to Ring My Bell, etc.

S.D. returned to me reporting that Parker Posey was there and upon entering she had announced to him that "it smells like donuts in here". I told him and Jaykwan that it was going to take a lot for me not to be a gushing fan boy and just be a cool whats-up kind of guy. Honestly though, I don't really get starstruck, but...I really do love Parker Posey. We were joking about the most obnoxious routes we could take in embracing her, like for example asking her if we could do lines of toot off her tits and lick her cooch. Because people were really like that. She was ambushed in the kitchen by the starstruck, and I was not going to be like that even if it meant I didn't get to speak to her at all. But I digress.

So we were playing it cool of course, and wanted to interact with her "organically" as S.D. said. I went outside to smoke a cigarette as the party was ending and people were going to move along to Therapy. Later I would learn that during this time alone, S.D. was in the kitchen with PP who offered him a drink from her cup and then took it back and continued to drink from it herself.

Then, here comes PP outside with her friends. S.D. rolled up from behind, and PP made some comment about having quit smoking for a week. I can't remember what was said, but I high fived PP a good one with some definate smack to it. Everyone was just shooting the breeze, she was talking about her dog so of course I mentioned Nina the pitbull, and I was impressed with how collected I was in the face of celebrity, and the next thing I know I'm telling her, "I don't want to be a slobbering fanboy, but I am a big fan." AND SHE HUGGED ME, TIGHT, FOR LIKE TWO MINUTES. The song "Time Stood Still" started playing in my head. She said to me, "Aw, I'm a fan too." She may have said she loves me but I can't be sure at this hung-over point. Then she and her group were off, and she asked my name and told me if I ever see her to come on up to her. Lord knows she may regret that when I see her in Starbucks and act like we've been BFF's for a hundred years. She really seems nice and down to earth.

Then everybody went to Therapy and Posh and I drank too much, made a fool of myself, grabbed some guys ass who was not happy about it (have a problem with that), and gave my number to some dude with bad teeth.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Lord knows how easy it is

for a good Christian man to fall prey to the accusations of a male prostitute, and inadvertantly buy methamphetamines from him, and have an innnocent massage with a repeated happy ending.


Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Madonna on Dateline

Recently Madonna was on Oprah, and just now I finished watching her on Dateline. She's in the city and is having a whirlwind media tour, talking about her adoption, her upcoming concert on NBC minus the crucifixtion scene, and her newest children's book. As critical as I have been of her over the past few days, that's still my girl. How about Dateline went strait to Malawi to interview Baby David's father. There are so many mixed messages about what he knew, what he didn't know...supposedly Madonna offered him money to raise David and he declined. To Dateline, he supposedly said he knew the deal. I do have to say that Merideth Viera kind of phrased her question and commentary as David's father "didn't want anything to do with him" like he's a dead-beat dad rather than an impoverished substinence farmer who had no possible way to take care of his kid other than to put him in an orphanage. But I digress.

I still love her. I think her heart--though I have reports that she's pretty icy to the little people--is in the right place. And I think David has lucked out beyond what he could have ever imagined in a million years from his thirteen months of life.


In other news I have been experiencing profound sinking feelings and overwhelming pangs of self-hatred. I had the super up here today to fix the broken window in the other room and unclog the bathtub, not to mention look at the floor collapsing away from the wall and the falling-out moulding of the window in the living room.

All he did was make the bathroom dirtier.

This is a metaphor for all the interpersonal interactions of my life.

Halloween: The Day After

Last night Scatty Arbuckle and I went with his friends Jaykwan and Betstwana to the Villge Halloween Parade. It was so fun. I reprised my role as Darth Vadra (aka Drag Vader) which truly does baffle people. In platform shoes I towered over everyone. Scatty, Betstwan, and Jaykwan were the true stars of the show, however, as an Elf Wizard, Elf Archer, and Assassin respectively. These were no el-cheapo buy-in-a-plastic-bag costumes either, they are outright extras from Lord of the Rings, or "ward of da wings" as the Japanese, who worshipped them, would say. In fact they are on the Japanese news saying Happy Halloween. I'm not even kidding you.

As for Darth Vadra, kids apparantly loove Darth Vader. Which made me feel a little awkward, considering that I was Darth Vader in a full body latex fetish suit, dick just bulging, and a belly dancer shimmery top thing.

One man offered me his "light saber". Eeew. Yet kind of exciting.

This group of girls who could have been the cast of Flavor of Love wanted some action from me as well. I was all about them. One of them said, "It's Darth Vader goes belly dancing!" I was going more for "Darth Vader goes to Vegas" but oh well.

A group of boys screamed "Darth Gayder!" from the sidelines. I replied, "EXACTLY."

At one point we were stopped in the parade for traffic to cross, and in the middle of everything someone took the liberty to feel me up. Then this jackass on a bicycle tried to cut me off and in a move to stay with my group, I grapped the basket on the back of his bike and moved him out of the way. When we got out of the thick crowd, he punched me in the chest. Did he not know that I could crush his trachea with my mind?

Also, please note that "sexy occupation" costumes are sooo played out. If I saw one more slut in a shiny police hat and coochie cutters I thought I might scream.

And yes, I did get a laugh behind the killed-by-a-sting-ray spoofs.

Pictures forthcoming if I can find any.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Ketih Olbermann on the death of Habeus Corpus

You Tell Me...

Old Timey Electric Heater

My building is notoriously stingy with the heat, and getting some heat in the depths of winter has proven over the years to be an endless battle. Many meetings of the tenants, many calls to 311, many memos to the management CC'd to Mayor Bloomberg, etc start feeling futile after a while. I hear some people have succeeded in having their rents reduced because they documented their complaints enough and have waged enough war, but personally I barely have the energy to get them up here to unclog the bathtub much less to stop lying about the boiler being broken or stop harassing us about our rent stabalization. A couple years ago they insisted on putting these "energy efficient" windows in everyone's apartment which was all fine and well except that the building is so old that it doesn't do much good, the draft continues, and its no excuse to turn the heat on just enough to get the radiator hot but not enough to actually give it time to radiate.

So already this year I've been lounging around realizing that my feet are slowly turning blue and my skin is chapping within the walls of the apartment, and its not even as cold as it's going to get. I resorted to using Lito's old timey electric heater, which takes me back to those days of kerosene heaters in my grandma's house which put out some good heat but left you with the constant fear that the house could burn down at any moment.

This thing is old and dusty and hasn't been plugged-in in probably years, so it really makes me nervous, but desperate chilliness calls for desperate measures.

Meanwhile, Meow Kitty is absolutely fascinated by it. For a cat that has been through so much and has had such a struggle for survival in this cold cruel world, she sometimes amazes me with how smart she is. Other times not so much. She's an idiot savant. When old 'lectric is on, she approaches it with caution, right up to the chicken wire screen, puts her face right in the middle, realizes it is hot, and then runs away from it. Ten seconds later, she returns and gives it another try. And again and again.

Finally she has figured out that she can just chill in front of it a few steps back, and it will warm her without scorching her highly flamable and endlessly shedding-in-clumps hair.

You can barely see her in the light of the heat:

Electric Heater

By the way, there's already Christmas decorations up in Astoria:

Christmas Decorations Up Before the end of October

Here's an unrelated picture of a big ass dog chewing on a big ass stick on the Upper West Side the other day. No owner in site, and no easy explanation for where a stick that size came from.

Dog Chewing Stick

It's a good thing I was at a bar last night

or I might not have known to set the clock back.

Friday, October 27, 2006

So simple, yet so useful.

I am a huge listmaker. Everything that's going to get done in my life has to be on some kind of list. Recently I discovered Ta Da Lists, which is a free service that you can of course access via the internet, so your lists are always with you. You can add items to multiple lists, and reorder the items however you want after you've entered them. (That's the best part, because when you handwrite lists, you inevitably end up with a higher-priority item lower on the list--part of being a list-person is liking your lists organized.) When you check an item off the list, it's moved to the bottom of the list, but still saved so you can see what you've accomplished (another thing listmakers like is seeing everything they've crossed off).

Also from the same developers is Backpack, which is cool too, and includes pretty much the same list-making function, and a lot more like "writeboards" and a calendar (though it's for paying customers only).

Thursday, October 26, 2006

A New Breed...Ferocious and Wild

There’s this woman who lives on the Upper East Side, let’s call her “Judy”. Judy is a middle aged white lady with blonde hair, a thick yankee accent, a throaty smoker’s voice, and the status of fixture in the neighborhood. Indeed, she is the co-chair (“should be president”) of a certain block’s neighborhood association, and I am all to familiar with her not only from her residence and position as co-op manager in a dear friend’s building, but also from the endless sea of flyers she posts around the ‘hood about everything from the upcoming Halloween festival to her opposition to the plans to build a 7-11 right on her corner. Her flyers are written in such precise and perfect handwriting that it almost looks like a font, and they usually begin along the lines of “In case you did not know or have not yet been made aware of the fact that …”

I can't do her justice -- I may have to create a video of my impression of her which has become canonical among those who know this lady in order to really convey the voice, the annoyance, the gestures, the underhanded nature of compliments and the bitter outlook on those who do not understand where she's coming from, which would be me, you, and all of humanity. She's a character, to say the least.

For the 7-11 effort, she made it into the local news media, having appearances on the news and quotes in newspapers. She spearheaded the anti-7-11 movement in the neighborhood, basing her opposition on the 24-hour convenience store on the idea that such a venue would bring the riff-raff out of the woodwork at all hours of the night to terrorize the community and leave a sea of beer cans and syringes lining the street among other litter. She had a huge case against the 7-11, but eventually the 7-11 won out and ther is now, in fact, a 7-11 on the corner of the block for which she's the co-chair of the neighborhood association (though she "should be president of the whole damn show").

Taking her lead, but also out of solidarity with the other two convenience stores across the street that do not have the backing of a huge franchise brand-name, we've avoided the 7-11, but have recently started popping in after the other stores have closed, and even when they're still open, always looking out for Judy in hopes that she won't see us going in or coming out. There is an allure to the 7-11, a seduction. It is new, shiny, well-lit, and has a huge selection of merchandise from food to personal hygiene items to magazines. The stores across the street have faded signs, dirty floors, and a whole lot of nothing that crowds the aisles. The 7-11 is, like, better.

Anyway. The other day my homeboy saw the 7-11. In her defense she was not buying anything, just handing out flyers for one of the neighborhood association events, maybe trying to get one posted in the window. But I hear the look on her face at being seen in there was priceless. She knows what people must think.

More later.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Celebrity Siting

Saw Rapper T.I. today in Chelsea on 23rd Street. There were all these trailers lined up for some kind of shoot, maybe a video. He came out of one of the trailers with two men, hugged a girl who was waiting with her friend who was not particularly movie-starish but cute. He's much shorter and skinnier in in person.


Jump over to Pyramid tonight for our annual Halloween Madonnathon! Get hung up on the dance floor --- it’s ALL MADONNA, ALL NIGHT, from 10 PM-4 AM with no repeats! Catch rare Madge videos all night in the basement. Free admission if you’re dressed as Madonna... (Note...we have the final say on whether any "borderline" Madonnas get in free.)

Woman, 23, Has Breasts Removed to Prevent Cancer

I really can't believe this.

The story is that a young woman of 23 is so terrified of getting the cancer--and what seems more important to her is how that would keep her from having children--that her mother had that she gets tested for the "breast cancer gene", which comes back positive. I'm not sure how accurate the article is on this but it says that when that gene shows up it means you have an 80% chance of developing cancer. (Is there really a test that can tell you how likely you are to get b.c.?) I'm not an expert on breast cancer, so correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty certain that if you catch breast cancer early the survival rate is very high.

Her doctor says,
"I didn't push her into it," he said. "The decision has to be 100 percent driven by the patient. It's an option a doctor shouldn't sell, but shouldn't withhold."

I entirely disagree. It seems to me that this woman's problem is psychological. I can't believe that a doctor would actually provide her with a double mastectomy at such a young age and with no tumors. Then she recieves breast implants which are not without their own potential (though less likely than commonly believed) problems, moreso I'd imagine in a woman with no breast tissue.

As a medical professional, a doctor should have given her comfort and encouragement along with the knowledge of how to check yourself for cancer and the ways to live a healthy life without amputating something from her body as a preventative measure. And then referred her to a mental health professional to at least allow her time to consider the option she is choosing more deeply with a little guidance. It's so...extreme. I believe in patient autonomy, but I believe in the autonomy of doctors too. Judging what's in a patient's best interests can be a difficult task, but seems obvious to me.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Malawi: This Used To Be My Playground

Madonna's going on Oprah to talk about her controversial adoption.

But no one saw this coming? The father of Madonna's adopted child is now saying, as others had previously suggested, that he didn't fully understand "adoption". He thought that Madonna was going to raise his son in a life of extreme luxury and privelege, who would then return to his Malawi village to fight off mosquitos and hope there's enough dirt pie for the whole family to eat.

Liz Smith, who has nothing but undying praise for Madonna, wraps it up in her column. She starts off by saying Madonna hadn't even considered what kind of publicity this would bring (hmm...she is the mother of publicity stunts, so I'm sure it was at least a passing thought, though in fairness to her probably not the motivating factor), but then she hits the nail on the head.

I think Madonna would have been better off attempting to adopt a parentless child, not a 1-year-old with a living (and probably soon to be demanding) father. And she'd have been far better off never bringing up the word "kabbalah" in connection with any of her announced good works for children left without families because of AIDS. I'm not much for charity with any proselytizing religion mixed in on top of it.

EXACTLY. Also, Angelina and Brad apparantly talked her out of adopting an American baby to take the third-world route. Angelina Jolie is exactly who I would turn to on these kind of things, seeing as she is a known homewrecker-with-a-heart-of-gold, who probably feels a bit of relief from man-snatching with her world-saving UN-spokepersoning measures.

Also, I'm surprised the issues of a white couple raising a black child hasn't really come up in the criticisms of this. This is like an intercontinental Losing Isaiah waiting to happen.

I honestly do wish the best for both Madonna and the baby, David.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

YouTube Sunday: Black Diva Edition

Gentelmen, I give you....Katrina.

Also, maybe the greatest thing ever:

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Female Figures With Heads of Flowers

Knowing that I am obsessed with Dali's untitled painting known as Female Figure with Head of Flowers (it hangs above my bed), Scatty Arbuckle sent me this picture from Alexander McQueen's Spring 2007 collection asking if I thought it was perhaps inspired by Dali.

Perhaps! But I think Leigh Bowery gave a more accurate depiction of the female figure with head of flowers:

Personally I'm a fan of this concealed-head look from Viktor & Rolf:

It inspired my Halloween 2005 look.

Though this year I think I may go less Darth Vader and more Imperial Guard.

Men on Film

I was watching this thing on CNN about porn addiction, which was pretty useless and gratuitous in that it provided no insite into porn addiction other than "porn addiction is bad" which, by virtue of being an addiction, is a given. But what stood out to me was a brief comment on how men (heterosexual) who view a lot of porn (like three hours worth a day) begin to be aroused by all women on the street, and less so by there partners. I would bet they begin to be interested in sex acts they may have thought abnormal or nasty and less in traditional, missionary style fucking too.

The little report was about heterosexual porn in particular, but it got me thinking about gay men and our porn. As gay men, every one of our publications--be they news journals or entertainment websites--have ads for porn. "Gay" is a social construct, and I don't think that's necessarily bad. I've read that it was around the end of World War II that gay people started to think of themselves as members of a group. And that group is defined by who we are interested in having sex with. Yeah yeah, romance too...but it boils down to this: we are gay men because our sexual desires are for other men. So it's not baffling that the "economy" of our "culture" relies heavily on selling us sex. With men.

Is this why the long-term gay male relationship is harder to find than the promiscuous gay man? If porn leads strait men to objectify women, and if the media gives women unrealistic standards for beauty, then does the gay media--which is tightly tied to gay porn--both lead us to have ridiculous expectations of our own bodies and the bodies of other men, as well as make us see each other as objects?

Thursday, October 19, 2006



Historical Ironies That Go Unnoticed

Historical Irony Goes Unnoticed, #1:
Two Winston-Salem, NC hospitals are banning smoking.
…the new policy will also apply to parking lots and parking decks and other outdoor areas.

Winston-Salem is (was once?) the tobacco manufacturing capital of the world…and millions of dollars were donated by RJ Reynolds Tobacco Company to those two hospitals.

Historical Irony Goes Unnoticed, #2:
Rice Promises Japan Full Range Defense Against North Korea nuclear weapons. The tables have turned. (Right or wrong,) the only nuclear weapon ever used against a nation was by the United States…on Japan.

Historical Irony Goes Unnoticed, #3
A Texas inmate slit his own throat with a makeshift knife fifteen hours before his execution by the state. They rushed him to the hospital in an apparent effort to save his life...before his scheduled execution later that day.

Historical Irony Goes Unnoticed, #4:
This isn’t really ironic, just intriguing on a number of levels.

Bush concedes that Iraq “could be” compared to Vietnam’s Tet offensive.
"My gut tells me that they have all along been trying to inflict enough damage that we'd leave," [Bush] told American ABC television.

You need your gut to tell you that?

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Project Runway: Finale

It was clearly between Uli and Jeffrey, as Laura's collection was tired (well-crafted or not, it was old, old lady all the way) and Michael's was a little loose. I'm sad for Michael, but I think, in the end, Jeffrey deserved it. Though Uli really did come out of nowhere with teh fabulous.

But I've Made Up My Mind, Iiii'm Keepin' My Baby...

As is all over the news, Madonna has indeed adopted a baby named David from Malawi. There were groups who were trying to stop this, and a lot of criticism and ridicule flung at her for what seems like the purchase of a designer baby. Even the NY Post today had a large, meant-to-be-humorous article about the adoption in its fashion section, which heavily quoted VH1’s Best Week Ever show. A personal favorite from Michael Colton: “Madonna loves everything British. And that includes imperialism.”

As I’ve said before, there is really nothing bad that can be said about giving millions of dollars to a country to help feed its starving children, nor is their anything intrinsically bad about saving a single child from a life of poverty. What bothers me about her donation of money to the “Raising Malawi” project is that the project is heavily boarded by Kabala bigwigs and a lot of that money is going to go to instill Kabala teachings in these children. Imagine if she were giving all this money, and a condition of it was that Bibles will be handed out and taught from. It’s the same thing. As someone who makes a living working for missionaries, I know first hand all the good they do. I also know first hand that there is a fine line between being a religious person doing good deeds in the name of your beliefs, and being a good person who does good deeds under the condition that your beliefs be accepted. These kids don’t give a fuck about kabala. They want to eat. It is deeply offensive to me that “Kaballah”—a trademarked religious/cult brand that claims it is not a religion/cult—is in any way a part of this effort. However, I can’t get away from the fact that…it’s better than no effort at all.

Secondly—and who knows what the whole truth of the matter is—it is reported that from twelve kids, ole Madge Ritchie “hand picked” her baby, who is, by the way, not an orphan. His father is alive and well (and reportedly gives his full blessing to Madonna and Guy Ritchie). In fact, of all the kids in that country he is one, as J-Boogie put it, who probably had a fighting chance. And to quote a woman quoted in Andrea Peyser’s column, it’s like when you go to the pound—you pick the cutest one. Is it likely that Madonna did just that, rather than picking one who was infected with HIV and wasn’t really adorable?

Every ten years or so, Africa comes back around as a trendy cause. It’s not bad that Africa becomes a cause that gets a lot of attention, because it needs a lot of attention, and a lot of help from the rich West. The newest trend seems to be adopting African babies. Did Madonna bypass laws? Did she purchase an impoverished baby? Who cares. Now I’m sure little David will have a fabulous life. I’m not quite sure why, but I’m a little squeamish about it.

More later.

But only one that matters!
LogoThere are:
people with my name
in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

Sunday, October 15, 2006

The Summer's Out of Reach

The Big Meeting happens twice a year, and for the first one of the year they call it the “semi annual meeting” and for the second one, they call it the “annual meeting”. I mentioned to the lady that puts the whole thing together that this bothers me, because if one of them is the “semi annual meeting” then wouldn’t the other one be “semi annual” too? I don’t think she understood my concern because she just reiterated the fact that the first one is called “semi annual” and the second one is called “annual”. But I stand behind my conviction that this is stupid.

You’d be surprised how many trees have to die for these meetings to happen. Seriously, the amount of copies is ridiculous. And you know it all ends up in the trash once the thing ends.

While I was there running around, working fourteen-hour days for these people, the summer suddenly disappeared and it became cold. I am not ready for this.

Yesterday while buying cat food, CLR Drain Opener caught my eye. It was something new as my drain is immune to Draino and similar products, so I made the ten-dollar impulse purchase because our drain is perpetually clogged in the tub, despite numerous attempts to have it “snaked” by the super. Basically this thing is a device that you press down over the drain with the tub filled with water, and it gives a blast of chemicals through the pipe and opens the drain.

Well I’m here to tell you that this shit should not be on sale to the general public. If anyone has ever been advised that Draino is damaging to pipes, they should be advised twice as hard about this shit. I pushed the thing down and the entire bathroom filled with a white cloud, and pure-tee black shit shot out of the “waste” pipe that sticks out of the floor. And the sink, which I now realize is somehow tied into the tub, now leaks underneath. At one point I thought the entire building might collapse. I’m betting North Korea was looking into a bulk purchase of this shit before they got the Bomb.

This apartment is an endless sea of problems. It is on the verge of structural collapse.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

I just saw a tiny little spider crawling up my wall.

I remained loyal to ye olde Blogger all this time, and it paid off with the new Blogger Beta, which includes “labels”, which is just their word for “tags”, which is what I’ve been waiting for them to do. So now I have tags! I mean, labels! Which is cool, but I didn’t realize that in the fine print, by switching to Beta, I no longer have the ability to comment on non-Beta Blogger blogs. Unless they allow anonymous comments, which no one does, except me. But what sucks is that now I think my "feed" is all messed can I fix that? And what if people are subscribed to the wrong feed? (At press time offers five feeds for yet none of them are current...please advise.)

All that to say, that I really wanted to comment on this post about a family that has taken to entering via their back door so as not to disturb a six inch long golden silk spider that somehow hitchhiked it’s way from South Carolina to Ohio.

In the comments there, people are talking about why spiders give us the heeby jeebies, and there are a few comments referring to the fact that spiders eat other bugs, which is a good thing. Which reminded me of a story.

Our building, and my apartment specifically, has more than the occasional spider make an appearance. I’m very sensitive about certain things—like roaches, for example, send me into fits of screaming and sheer panic—but not really spiders. Once S.D.A., who lives next door, killed a spider hiding in his washcloth and was very disturbed by this finding. I said, “But Scatty, they eat the bad things.” He replied, “They are the bad things.”

Admittedly I’ve not seen a six inch long spider in my house, which would likely make me shit my pants. Though some in my parents’ North Carolina garage have rivaled that size.

Anorexia Is Usually Obvious.

I'm back! Before I get into all that went down in the 'Cut, there are a few issues I'd like to address.

First, that a plane hit the Belaire on the Upper East Side is troubling on a number of levels. In the United States, particularly the City, images of a burning hole in the side of a building and newscasts throwing out a plethora of unconfirmed information about an aircraft flying into a building brings back a lot of bad memories and panic. Most imporantly two people were killed, which is very sad, especially considering there are widows and children left behind. Also, the people who live in the building are no doubt traumatized, and about three people lost multi-million dollar apartments altogether. How in the hell is it that this plane was not required to be in communication with the FFA? I do not understand how a plane, flown by a baseball player, can just be flying around New York City all willy nilly. There should be rules about this kind of thing, right?

On a lighter subject (ha ha, get it?), take a look at this skinny model, in contrast to Gaultier's plus-plus-sized model Velvet D'amour:

That is Ukrainian model Nataliya Gotsii of the Ford Modeling Agency, as she walked in the Guy Laroche show. She is clearly anorexic, and if not, then she clearly has some kind of disorder. Being that "thin" is not natural or healthy. She is skeletal and her internal organs are no doubt desperate for some kind of even shows on her face. From the article:

But GEORGES BULLY, Communications Manager for Guy Laroche, tells ET that Nataliya, 22, is far from having an eating disorder.

"I had breakfast with [the models] before the show and I assure you, Nataliya is not anorexic," he said.

Even if that's the truth (which I stand behind my belief that it is not), it's gross, grosser than being too fat. Somebody give that girl a cheeseburger and a milkshake post haste!

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Don't You Forget About Me

I have to go the 'Cut tomorrow for a little bizness trip, but please do not cry. I will return on Friday, possibly Thursday. Last time I was there a building next door burned to the ground. Hopefully something equally exciting will happen this time among the hours and hours of physically abusive and mentally exahausting labor.

In the meantime, here is the MySpace page for WOP (Without Pimps) sent to me by Jo Jo K. It features the sure to be hits from their album "Everything I Touch Turns to Mine", including my personal favorite "My Otha Ride (Is Your Man)".

Friday, October 06, 2006

Kaballa for Malawi

What'd I tell ya? Madonna & Co.'s efforts in Malawi, Africa, according to the Raising Malawi website, includes among its solutions "creating a sense of self empowerment" by teaching them "universal life skills" based on the "Spirituality for Kids program". In other words, teach them some Kaballah.

From Page Six today:

NOT only is Madonna planning to spend $3 million helping orphans in Malawi - she's going to turn the African children onto Kaballah, the mystical Jewish sect that boasts its own brand of spiritual water. Madonna wants some of her money to go for drilling wells so the orphans will have clean water and no longer suffer from dysentery and waterborne parasites. "Water is the purest expression of God's sharing essence," our spy said. "The water will be Kaballah water." The pop queen went to an orphanage yesterday in Malawi's commercial capital. Her publicist, Liz Rosenberg, said she's "involved in the building of an orphanage/child care center," but reiterated that Madonna was just window-shopping when she checked out the orphans there yesterday: "She has not adopted a baby boy as has been previously and incorrectly reported."

I guess if it's keeping children from getting diseases, it doesn't matter if it's Poland Springs or Kaballah water (clean water is clean water)...

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Fall Fashion

A valiant effort to remain standing after the first fall:

It Took Ya Momma Nine Months To Make It...

A lot going on in this world that I will post about soon.

However, right now, I’d like to give props to Velvet d'Amour, aka Fatty Boombalatti:

They say models often smoke cigarettes to curb their appetites, but this one here ain’t smokin’ nothing but hams!

Clearly not your average model with the below average mass. Jean Paul Gualtier put her in his show as, the NY Post article claims, a protest against the recent banishment of super-skinny (read: anorexic) models in its fashion shows. I for one hope the statement he’s trying to make is not so much “see what will happen if you banish skinny girls?” and more “look at this queen of largesse and kiss my skinny French ass”. I’ve always supported the plight of the Fat People of the world, and I give my seal of approval to d’Amour and Gualtier.

Old Jokes Home

From Popbitch:

Bono is at a U2 concert in Glasgow when he asks the audience for some quiet. Then in the silence, he starts to slowly clap his hands. He says into the microphone..."Every time I clap my hands, a child in Africa dies."

A voice from near the front pierces the silence..."Well, stop fucking clapping then."

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Cocaine Redux

I'd like to thank the nice folks at Redux Beverage Company for making one of their "News Clips of the Week" on the Cocaine Energy Drink website. This blog has never seen so much traffic! Thanks to them and best of luck with their product. I'm totally going to ask their advice when I launch my Heroin™ Brand Acetometaphine.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Canned Outrage

There is nothing like a good bit of manufactured outrage from lawmakers to give a much needed publicity boost to a relatively harmless product with a scandalous! name.

Cocaine, the beverage, is just your run of the mill "energy drink" from a company that now has to spend $0 on marketing because the lawmakers of NYC have thrust knowledge of its existence into the public consciousness by vehemently opposing it.

Councilwoman Letitia James of Brooklyn called the beverage “a legal precursor to an illegal product,” while Councilman Larry B. Seabrook of the Bronx likened it to “imitation cigarettes, which caused generations upon generations to become smokers.”

Let me be the first to tell you, from experience with these kinds of things, that kids who want to experiment with cocaine are not getting the idea from a highly caffeinated soda, and kids who want to smoke do not get the idea from candy cigarettes.

Also, let it be known that while I have yet to see this product in any store, I could have cocaine (and any illegal substance, really) delivered to my front door in under two hours with a simple phone call. I dare say kids have more access to the coke you snort than to the cocaine you drink, and they are much more savvy these days than to be inspired to take real drugs because of the presence of fake drugs.

This is my 600th post, and it is about Cocaine.

Tasteless Joke

Q: Why doesn't Mark Foley use bookmarks?
A: Because he'd rather bend over the pages!

The truly tasteless joke is Mark Foley himself. It's evidence that life is stranger than fiction that he made a name for himself with all his advocacy for children, and has now resigned for the at-least-attempted exploitation of children. It's also hilarious that his camp is now spinning this as having anything to do with alcoholism. I mean I've done drunken things on the internet before, but give me a break.

Monday, October 02, 2006

"DDT" is also the name of a move from professional wrestling.

With all the bedbug posting on this here blog, I'd like to preface this post by saying The Butch Stroll dot com is not a blog about bedbugs. Not exclusively, at least.

Anyway, posts about the CDC's recent announcement of its support of DDT in indoor spraying to reduce the spread of malaria in Africa. The post notes that it was the use of DDT that helped eradicate malaria in the 40's and 50's in developed nations, and it is now developed nations that oppose the use of DDT in poor African countries that are hit hard by malaria. For the record, the editors of are in support of the use of DDT to stem the spread of malaria, and, like the CDC figure any health or environmental damage would be miniscule compared to the number of lives it would save. I didn't read the full link regarding the CDC's announcement, but the post suggests that the evidence for anything really really bad coming from the use of DDT is not strong.

The article caught my attention because DDT is also credited with eradicating bedbugs from American life in those same decades (and as evidenced by this blog's subject matter lately, I am obsessed with bedbugs and increasingly afraid that the prophecy will self-fulfill). DDT's banishment for environmental and health reasons, and the increase in international travel (those damn foreigners! j/k) has led to this decade's upsurge in bedbug cases.

Bedbugs are hardly comparable to malaria. Malaria kills millions of people every year, while bedbugs merely annoy the heck out of (hundreds of?) thousands. But I imagine that if, in the United States, bedbugs became widespread (in the sense that they began turning up in nearly every home), Americans would be all for a return of DDT use inside the home. The environment and birth defects be damned!

On another note, check out that picture of the old timey DDT can. "Banishes bugs, lice, fleas, ants and other pests that crawl." I have to say I love anything that iS anti-creepy-crawlies.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Blogger's being all wierd.

Won't post and won't republish. :(

The Internet Surfs Back...

The other day I visited the website for Lane Bryant (the plus size woman's store, I have a perfectly reasonable explanation and no, it wasn't for anything I planned on wearing). Now several sites throughout the internet are showing me Lane Bryant ads...a lot of Lane Bryant ads. Freaky.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Re: America's Next Top Model Elimination

Her momma died keeping her warm on a crashed plane and now this.

This world is so unkind.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Bedbug Update: Ralph Lauren

In my continuing effort to bring you information on bedbugs and their ilk, I turn you to the NY Post's report that fashion house Ralph Lauren is infested with bed bugs! (Remember, they're not just for beds anymore.) The article does spread some disinformation, though. Bedbugs are not invisible, Page Six, they are just small and hard to find/see. As they do not tend to come out in the daylight (unless it's a really bad infestation), it is unusual that the staff are having bites. If that's the case, the sad part of this story is not that they have to exterminate the offices, but that the staff probably all have them in their homes now. They're known for hitchiking. Cheers, RL.

I mean, it wouldn't stop me from shopping at Ralph Lauren (not that I would anyway). But this might stop me from shopping at Marc Jacobs.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Scene: Boss Lady is Away at Big Event.

1:15 PM: Speak to hotel regarding difficulties and confusion regarding rooming list for Big Event, and, as directed every five minutes via telephone from Boss Lady, am in contact with the events coordinator there who has the voice of a twelve year old girl. At end of conversation she mentions how nice Boss Lady is and what a pleasure she is to work with.

4:30 PM: Recieve reports that events coordinator has been reduced to tears by Boss Lady.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

50's Gay Scare in Greensboro, NC

This article from the Greensboro News & Record is a fascinating look at the lives of gay people in Greensboro, NC in the 1950's. Greensboro is no gigantic city today, but in the 50's it was much smaller, I'm sure, and light years away from the relatively "nice" area that it is today even though it was still then the third largest city in NC.

Greensboro is also famous for the sit-in movement--the original Woolworth's is now a civil rights museum.

From the article:

In 1957, Greensboro was, as now, the third-largest city in North Carolina. The difference was, instead of 238,000 residents, it had less than a third of that population.

It was just a town, a town poised, like the rest of the country, on the brink of a social sea change — civil rights, women's rights, sexual revolution. And as if braced for the floodwaters, the 1950s were the most rigidly conformist decade of the century.

In the society pages, women continued to be identified by their husbands' names — "Mrs. John Smith" — and any story mentioning a black person took care to specify race — "a Negro."

At a time when newspapers had only recently ventured to publish the word "rape," and when the discovery of a moonshine operation could still lead the local news, the word "homosexual" never appeared. It wasn't merely taboo. It was practically unheard of.

"People talked about 'sissies' and 'queers.' But we had no idea what they did," recalled Eleanor Dare Kennedy, who in the mid-1950s was a college student and a police reporter for the Greensboro Daily News.

On her morning rounds to gather items for the police blotter in the years before the '57 trials, Kennedy one day happened upon a report of a "crime against nature" and asked the shift commander what that meant.

"I honestly thought someone had done something to a tree," Kennedy said, recalling the commander snatching the report out of her hands. "He said, 'You can't write a story about that. Send a man over here.' "

Not that homosexuality was unknown on the national scene. The massive mobilization of World War II created what many historians conclude was the first awareness by gays that they were part of a group.

File under Fascinating WTF

I really want everyone I have ever known and will ever meet to see this, because it has changed my life forever, and I'm not sure why.

"Little Superstar" is, I hear, an Indian sensation, the Shirley Temple of Bollywood. The full grown man is Rajnikanth, a star of Tamil (not Bollywood) movies. Also please note in the back, the darkest skinned of the bunch (the one with a mullet). A "little person" too, I believe, and jammin his damn self.

PS, if you listen closely, it's "Holiday" to which he's dancing. Not sure who is rapping over top...please fill in any and all blanks for me on this bizzare, amazing piece of footage.

He kills me with the slow-motion, the snake, and that big ass grin.