What In The World Does One Say?

I went to brunch this afternoon at the home of my two friends Vic and Lou (I know, how queer, Sunday brunch). They had put out a fantastic spread as usual. There was enough food there to feed five times the seven people who were there. After a leisurely meal Lou remembered that they hadn't given me my Christmas present yet.

Out comes a meticulously wrapped gift box with a good bit of heft to it. Trying to not look like an over eager five year old I carefully unwrapped the box and gently eased the top off of the box to find. . .

Yup, you guessed it. A giant blue dildo!

What ever does one say in a situation like that. After feeling my face flush crimson I think I managed to stammer out a quick "Uh, thanks guys" or something to that effect, but I really wasn't sure what the proper sex toy giving etiquette was. Is it okay for casual friends to make a gift of dildos to one another (and is there an e on the plural version of dildo?), and if so should the gift be given in private because nobody else got a toy to play with? Do I need to send a thank you note for this? If so is it okay to scribble one on a copy of Torso or Advocate Men?

Oh, if only Emily Post or Miss Manners could help me with this one, unfortunately I think the only who may have the answer would be Dan Savage.

p.s.
Did you know that when you google the term "blue dildo" google returns 4,250 hits for that? Well, you know it now.

Just Pick It!

I was moderately horrified on my into work yesterday. As many of you know I work in an uspscale neighboorhood with some very pretentious people. Sometimes I wonder what the hell they are thinking. As I am walking into work there is a guy sitting on a bench picking his nose. This wasn't some crazy homeless guy, this was an obviously well to do man in his thirties sitting on a bench going to town. . . I mean he had to have been up to his second knuckle his finger was so far up there.

This flashed me back to elementary school and a certain boy named Mickey. Mickey would pick his nose all day long in class and surretitisously eat it.

Oh yes he did!

It isn't like the rest of the world doesn't do it every now and again. Sometimes that is the only way to dislodge that really irritating thing that is making your nose itch, but at least the rest of the world has the decency to A) not eat it and B) go to the damn restroom so we can wash our hands or blow the rest out.

Maybe once one reaches a certain level of comfort in themselves to be able to pick away in public. . .if I ever get there, someone please smack me.

The thing was he wasn't all that circumspect about picking it. He would just stick his finger right on up there and dig away. The only time he would look to see if anyone was watching would be right before he stuck his finger in his mouth to enjoy his gooey treat (how does one spell gooey anyway?).

For You Gumby. . .

Gumby brought up a good point (no pun intended. . . really!) that instead of a little eye candy a lot of eye candy is much better, so here you go bud. . .

Gratuitious Saturday

I am completely brain dead today so I have now declared Saturdays to be gratuitious hot guy day. This way I don't have to think on Saturday (and who doesn't love a little eye candy?)

National Anthem En Espanol. . .

There is a huge controversy over the Spanish language version of the National Anthem. A lot of people are finding that the Natl. Anthem being sung in Spanish, or any other language, is highly offensive. Hmmm, I can think of a few more offensive things. Roseanne Barr (or Arnold or whatever the hell her last name is) sang the Anthem in English and I really don't think that that was something to be overly proud of. Or how about the flag thongs. . .nothing like showing your patriotism by covering your privates in the flag and having it creep up your butt cheeks. Let's see, someone is doing something inclusive, that is offensive. . .having the flag on your underwear, patriotic.

I must be the crazy one!

Life Lessons

Any of you who may know my mother (D. this would mean you) would know that the woman has very firm ideas on the way things should be. I bring this up because one of the life lessons that she had thumped into my head came back at me yesterday.
I needed to call a friend to get some information and to make plans for over the weekend. Okay, no big deal. At least until I looked at the clock and realized that it was 11:30 at night.
I was paralyzed.
On the one hand I knew that my friend would be awake and would appreciate the call, but on the other hand a deep childhood lesson clicked in.

NEVER call anyone after 10:00 p.m.

EVER!


Part of the way this little "lesson" was enforced was that while we were in school my brother and I weren't allowed to answer the phone after 10 p.m. Even more than that, we had to hang up whatever phone call we had been on at 10 p.m. According to my mother to do otherwise would throw the universe entirely off kilter and then we would need Superman to fly counter clockwise around the Earth really, really fast to counter the effects of said phone call.

It was then that I remembered "Hey, I can just send and email!" There is nothing like modern technology to solve a childhood isssue.

p.s.
As of yet I have no idea if it is okay to send an email past 10 p.m. according to her. . .

Getting Stoned With Savages

Okay, I'll admit that I am freaking stoked about this. J. Maarten Troost has a new book coming out on June 13. Who is J. Maarten Troost? You heretic! He is the man who started my love affair of creative non-fiction with his book The Sex Lives of Cannibals. If you haven't read it then run out and get it before June 13 so you can totally enjoy his new book. Read the book blurb here then get excited, it is coming soon!

Cartoon Hottie

As my friend D. mentioned on her blog she has a huge crush on cartoon Batman. Okay, I can see it, but I have to say that I think that the new Batman in Batman Beyond is so much hotter. What can I say? I guess I have a fixation for the whole bad boy thing. . .

So anyway this the cartoon hottie that I would totally do if I got sucked into cartoon land!

Commander in Chief

I just felt like I needed to share this little video of our fearless leader. And this man was "elected" twice?



Hmm, do you have the feeling that that is his sentiment towards the rest of us poor schleps in America?

You know you are a geek when. . .

You score 90% on this test! I think maybe I need to get out more on a Saturday night.

Full Wizard Fineto! You scored 90%!

Wow! Impressive. "We can expect great things from you." You must have read the books several times or are just really good at remembering which spell does what. I myself didn't know all the spells until I started writing this test. haha... In any case, if you wanna talk "Harry Potter" with someone, message me. I love meeting other Harry Potter enthusiasts!

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 60% on spells

Link: The Harry Potter Spells Test written by rg0217 on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Mandy & Thom

I have nothing more important or pithy to write about today besides adding another person to my future ex-husband list and also a "I'd switch for her" post.

Let's start with the I'd switch. . . I'll admit it, I love Mandy Moore. Maybe not Mandy Moore the singer, but Mandy Moore the actress. Hello, have you seen saved. She absolutely made the movie with her bitchy-holier-than-thou-rich-brat persona. A very similiar persona as the one in the Princess Diaries where she torments Anne Hathaway. I can't wait to see her in American Dreams! The clincher though was in an interview where she said that she was always being lumped musically in with Jessica Simpson, Christina Aguilera, and (pre-total white trash) Britney Spears and she said that she was probably the worst of the bunch. Gotta love her spunk and self deprecating humor because who could possibly be worse than Britney?

As for my future ex-husband I'm still in love with Thom Filicia from Queer Eye. I'm sorry, but he is just absolutely adorable! I know the show is, like totally way passe, but I don't care, I still love him! My God that man makes me laugh, and really what is more important than that?

The Gas Pump

I had to stop at the gas station today to fill er up. I am not going to write about how it took $26 to fill up the tank on my sub compact car. No, I am going to share another one of my many neurosis with ya'll that not even D. knows about yet.

Every time I go to get gas I have to pay with a credit card.

So what? You may be saying that to yourself right now. Well it isn't because I don't carry cash on me, or that I don't like gas station attendants. I have to pay for my gas with a credit card to have an alibi.

An alibi for what?

Well, you really never know when you might need one. Who knows when I might be framed for a vicious murder or something insane like that and the only thing keeping me from becoming cell mates with a very large man named Bubba is a credit card receipt.

Hey, it could happen. . .

Competitive Yoga?

I have been doing yoga now off and on for about two years. I'm not really all that good at it and I thing I have figured out why.

There is nobody to compete against.

Oh sure, there are the people on the dvd's, but they do the same thing day in day out over and over. . .no variation. Besides it is hard to feel competitive with someone only about twelve inches high on a tv screen.

Yoga classes are no good either. Everyone there is all hippie dippy "Flow with your body," or "it is where you are at, not where anyone else is at".

Bull crap. The only way to get better is by having someone to compete against so when you win you can show them up. It isn't any fun either if they won't compete with you. That is why I propose competitive yoga.

The Sloganizer

I have found a new website to waste more time at. . .it is The Sloganizer. Go ahead and put your name in it to get your own personal slogan.
Mine came out as:

See the face you love light up with Vincent.

Makes no sense at all, but does any slogan really?

What?

I just took one of those Internet personality tests. . .this entitled Am I Gay?
Here are my results

The Straight Stand up and be heard! You're 37% gay!

You're straight! You can choose whether or not you should be proud of that. You have just enough gay in you to not look like a liar, but too little to be really gay. You're suprised, aren't you?

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 4% on homopoints

Link: The Am I Gay? Test written by alone2gether on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

What? Call me crazy but I thought the only thing that mattered was that one little fact that trumps all others. . .I like penises!

Farts ARE Funny

My brother just sent me a link to a site all about burps and farts. Kinda gross you might think, but for whatever reason I still think farts are funny and evidently so does my brother. This reminds of when we were kids and my brother had a mayonaise jar that he "stored" farts in. He was seven years older than me (well, he still is seven years older) so he recruited me to help in "save" farts. Why I thought this was fun I have no idea beyond the fact that I was five and my brother was cool. For a week everytime I had to fart I would run to his mayonaise jar and hurry to unscrew the cap, fart, and get the top back on before the fart could escape. After awhile I wanted my own jar of farts. My thinking was why should my brother have one that had his farts and mine too. I finally managed to find a pickle jar in the garbage that I cleaned out really well (wouldn't want my farts to get dirty now would I?) and I began "saving" my farts for myself. Another week went by and my mother caught me "saving" a fart. At this point I was a little upset because my jar wasn't saving the farts like my brothers and I figured maybe my mom would know why. After laughing herself to tears she finally explained how the "farts" my brother had saved was just rotten mayonaise in a jar.

Oh well, at least I provided weeks of amusement for my brother and his friends every time I would run off to try to save that fart. . .

In honor of that here is a little fart video from Youtube.com. . .just because farts are STILL funny!

This morning I picked up the local paper and right there was a huge "story" about Myspace. It seems that some local police are using it as a tool to figure out where and what illegal activities are happening. . .and the kids aren't happy about it. One mental giant said something to the effect of myspace shouldn't be used like that because it is private?

Private!?!

When you are posting it on the Internet? HELLO! These idiots are posting pictures and comments of themselves getting drunk/ stoned/ whatevered and/ or making hit lists and/ or making plans/ rehashing plans about drinking/ drug/ sex parties on the INTERNET!

Newsflash: The Internet is not private!

Back in the day we would think someone was stupid if they took pictures on a camera at a party and got busted by their parents when the film got developed (back in the days before digital, remember those?). Now all parents need to do is log on to Myspace to see what their kids are doing. I think that if a kid is stupid enough to post all that crap where ANYONE can see it then they deserve to be caught for being so damn stupid.

On another scarier note, the same could be said for keeping yourself/ your kids safe. Remember back in the day of "don't talk to strangers", well that is what kids are doing. I don't think many of them realize when they post their personal info (address, phone number, school, whatnot) on Myspace that they might as well be standing in the middle of Central Park passing out fliers with that information on it. Where are the parents to monitor and teach these kids about appropriate safety? It really isn't that different than "don't talk to strangers". It is about common sense which I'm afraid is in short stock anymore.

Get A Load Of This

Heh, he said Penis!

Ah The Joy of Work

Yesterday was such a not fun day to be at work. I normally don't work on Sunday just because it is an all around sucky kind of day. A holiday Sunday is even worse. You just know that every person who walks through the door is going to be irritating. For example, for the entire first hour we were open every single person said something to the effect of "It is such a shame you have to work today." Hmmmm, let me think. Yes it is a shame that I had to work on a holiday. Not just me, but everyone who had to work. And why did we all have to work? Because people insist on patronizing businesses that are open on holidays, and then rubbing it in our faces that we have to work and they don't.

Newsflash

They found the body

Easter is cancelled

My iPod. . .

Recently my friend D. decided to do her Tuesday top ten. She puts her iPod on shuffle and then lists the first ten songs that come up. . .no editing allowed. She has challenged me to do this. I think I must refuse, and here is why:

My iPod embarrasses me.

Or I should say, to be completely accurate, my taste in music embarrasses me. Why is that you may be asking yourself. I'll tell you why. My iPod looks like it was loaded by a schizophrenic fourteen year old girl. I have such musical geniuses on there as Ricky Martin, The Click Five, The Trammps, or how about Christina Aguilera.

Do you see now why I won't rise to her challenge?

Predictability

Oh my, my obsession with #11 is now becoming noticeable. What is the #11 you may ask. It is what D. calls my prediliction for ordering the same thing no matter where I go. This all started at the Mexican restaurant in our tiny burg. Three times in a row I ordered the #11 (I'm still not sure what exactly it is, but it sure is yummy). Then she noticed that at Panera I always get the chicken ceaser salad and broccoli cheddar soup. The list goes on and on and on. I blame being a capricorn. According to The Only Astrology Book You'll Ever Need capricorns are notorious for this. Why is this a worry to me then? Well, other people besides D. have noticed this. Just now the really cute guy at the coffee shop saw me coming up to the counter and had my large raspberry iced tea all set for me. That was when I realized that my second drink is always the large tea. Hmmm, either that or he has a crush on me.

Where is the Anger

So, big surprise, our esteemed Mr. President has lied to us yet again. This time it was about trailers making WMDs. How many lies is this now? And what is his excuse?
This reminds me of when I was a child and I would lie to my mother. Inevetibaly I would get caught because either A)my Mom is a witch who could read in her tea leaves exactly what I was doing B)I was a horrible liar C)my brother would rat me out or D)all of the above. If I used the excuse "I didn't know," or some bullshit like that she would tell me "You're a smart kid, I don't believe that crap" and she was right. I usually did know better than to do whatever it was I did then lie about it. Now how is it that a child of ten can know this, yet the President of the United States keeps getting away with lying, and then claiming he had no idea about WMDs not being there, Katrina, the CIA spy leak etc, etc, etc. . .
Why does it seem like no one is angry about this

The least that should happen is Barbara puts him over her knee and spanks the crap out of him for being such a stupid liar.

I Hate Tests

I have never been a good test taker. I always managed to get myself all worked up that I studied the wrong parts or that I completely blew it. Then the drama would ensue waiting for the teacher or professor to grade the tests and the whole time I would get my stomach in knots convinced that I had completely bombed the test. Invariably I would end up with and A or once in a blue moon a B (except for pre-calculus, we'll leave that particular bit of torture out of this. . .I mean after all who the hell actually needs to graph parabolas in daily life?).
I'm still the same way. Today was the day for my bi-annual HIV test. I hate these two times of the year. Again I get myself all worked up and practically give myself an ulcer. Waiting the five days between testing and results was always horrendus. I would go over and over in my head the reasons why and why not that I could possibly be positive or negative. I swear by the time I actually got in to get my results I needed a couple dozen valium to bring me down to human.

This is why I love the new testing. My local Planned Parenthood has the twenty minute oral testing. Now not only do I only have twenty minutes to make deals with God and myself and give myself a mini ulcer, but no more needles. How fabulous is this. Plus it is FREE. . .those are four magic words to my cheap Polish ass. This has made the biannual trip, not pleasant, but tolerable.

By the way, still Neg!

Thank You, Please!

I have noticed a growing trend among a certain demographic. It is the definite lack of please and thank yous. For instance. . . "Give me," Or "I want," have replaced "May I please have." Suprisingly it is not the teenage crowd who is guilty of this. In fact most of the teens that I deal with are exceedingly polite (maybe it was drilled into them by the same insane nuns who drilled it into me). No, the main culprits are the dread 45-55 year old women. It seems that women who are fall into this demographic have something to prove by not being polite. I'm not saying that a woman needs to go back to walking a few steps behind a man and agreeing with whatever he says. Far from it. Is it too much to expect a simple thank you instead of a look of vast superiority?

Harry and the Potters **LIVE**

Harry and the Potters rocked it wizard style yo at Parmatown mall today. I stand in awe of the imagination that these two kids have in writing their short songs based on the Harry Potter books. I was happy to see a large turnout of people (okay, there was about 50 or so people, pretty big for a show in a mall) that seemed to be truly enjoying themselves. I will admit that that creepy guy in his late twenties who needed a bigger tee shirt to cover his protuding gut and knew all the words to every song bothered me a bit but it was great to see a bunch of kids dancing along and having a good time. What made the show even more enjoyable was that the two Harry's were so into it. You just knew they were having a great time. Damn, makes me wish I had applied myself more in high school like my mom told me to. Maybe I could have had groupies at a mall show too.

A Public Service Announcement

This public service announcement is brought to you by the 50's McCarthy regime. . .It is kinda scary actually as well as funny.


Thanks D for forwarding this to me.

Josh Kilmer-Purcell Doesn't Love Me Anymore. . .

Big sigh! My buddy the gay/vegan/glass blowing/republican went to my future ex husbands book signing last night. Ah, the fickle finger of fate! My future ex-husband proceeded to tell my buddy how he could just eat him up with a spoon. I'm heart broken! OH well, on the upside I got a signed copy of I Am Not Myself These Days (thanks boo!) so that is probably better than any of the palimony I would have gotten anyway.

Big Sigh!

Vandals 4 Jesus

I was out and about today running errands on my day off (had to get stuff for my nieces' Easter baskets. . .man those girls are hauling it in!) and I passed by one of the many abandoned storefronts in my little burg. I happened to look over and spray painted in bright neon purple lettering was this phrase

Parma Luvs Jesus.

Wow, several things popped into my mind at that point. Who was this person who decided to speak up for all the rest of us? Did he/she go around and interview every person in Parma? I know we have a large Indian population here in Parma and while I am pretty sure none of them hate Jesus I think they might just like him as, like, you know, just friends or sumthin'.

Another thing that came to mind was WWJD? Well I don't think he would go around spray painting "I Luv Myself" all over other people's property. I have a feeling he might have a few words for this person. So since Jesus did preach the whole do unto others as you would have them do unto you thing then can I go spray paint "I Luv Shiva" or "Muhammad Rocks" all over the vandal's home windows? I am pretty sure there are people in Parma who agree with both those statements so it would just be evening things out a bit. . .don't you think?

Just Another Day

Another day in the life of me. A very well dressed businessman comes up to the counter and orders two coffees. One large coffee and one small coffee. Okay, not a problem. I ring him up, give him his change and pour his coffees. I set them in front of him and politely, and even some what perkily, say "Here's your coffees, have a great morning!" At this point he looks at me like I am completely retarded. I began to wonder if my zipper was down (It actually was by the way, but I had an apron on so he didn't know that). Finally in his most condescending voice he asks me "So which one is the small one?"


Oh how I had to bite my tongue on that one!


This story is more than based on actual events, it is an actual event.

Geek Special

Okay, another delightful little clip from my favorite site YouTube. Who doesn't love a little Star Trek Karoke. . .and check out Kirk and Uhura.

International HUH?

I recieved yet another copy of Internation Male today. I think I maybe ordered a pair of shoes from them ten years ago (okay, so it was really underwear four years ago, quit being so picky) and the catalog has faithfully shown up in my mailbox ever since. The main question I had was does anyone wear most of that stuff in the catalog? I wonder since I live in suburban Cleveland and would be amazed to see someone walking around in one of those get ups. . .especially some of those suits they have in there. Can anyone say "gay gangster"? So what I would like to know is does anyone wear this stuff or do we all flip through it to look at the hot guys?

In Honor Of Brokeback Mountain

Okay, I admit I am getting a bit addicted to YouTube but you can find such great stuff like this on there


Damn, who knew ice skating cowboys could be so damn sexy!

Props to Hunter James at Notthatboy for finding this!

Potty Mouth

The other day I was mildly horrified when my boss announced that he had to go "launch a sea pickle." I had to wonder what is it that makes us need to announce that we are going to the restroom and why do we feel the need to share just what we will be doing in there. That train of thought led to me thinking of all the euphemisms I know for "doin the deed". I still don't know why I know all of these, but does it really make more sense to say one of these than to say "I must now go defecate?

Facilitaing a Meeting
Seeing a man about a horse
Dropping the kids off at the pool
Saying Hi to James (this came about because there is a poster of James Joyce above the entrance to the restrooms where I work)
Making number 2 (props to Mrs. Archangel and her second grade class for that one)

And my personal favorite: Taking the Browns to the Superbowl

But just remember that no matter what you call it just give them my name and you'll always get a good seat.

Whatever. . .

Exerpts from an actual conversation last night at work.
customer: "Coffee!"
notice the lack of verbs there
me: "Sure, do you want the large one?" (notice the suck uppiness trying to make a few extra bucks for the company).
customer: "Is that the small one?" (yes, that was asked in all seriousness)
me: "Um, no. That is the large one."
customer: "No, I don't want that size,"
At this point an uncomfortable silence befell us. I tried to ponder where in the world someone would go that they would be sold the cheapest thing. Does anyone go out to the movies and the girl says "You can save a quarter if you get the small one instead of the giant heaping tub of popcorn." Not to my knowledge. I then realized that a few moments had gone by and the customer still hadn't told me what size he wanted. Finally I asked "What size would you like?"
"Regular." And this is where we run into problems. If I gave a small I'd here "that's it?" or if I gave a medium I'd here "that's too much."
"We have medium or small then," I replied holding up the medium and small cups, hoping to be helpful.
"I don't care, whichever," was the reply.
Okay, so you're getting the medium then I thought to myself.

Guess what, that was the wrong choice.

Obviously "I don't care, whatever" translates into small.

All this over one cup of coffee. Is it really hard to walk up to a counter and say "May I have a small coffee please?" How much time would that have saved both us? Not to mention aggravation on both our parts. I guess that would have just been too darn easy.

At The Bike Shop. . . Baby!

Ah, spring has finally arrived in Northeast Ohio. That means the first bike rides of the season are here. It was a great day to get out and enjoy the (well relatively) fresh air and take my bike along the bike trail. Besides, I do have some winter weight I have to get rid of. Before I took my bike ride though I had to get my rear tire fixed. I put it off all winter but finally got it fixed (which took all of five minutes and fifteen dollars). I'm glad I finally went because I found out where the place to be is. . .

At the bike store baby!

Oh my God, it was better than going to Homo Depot on Memorial Day weekend. Is there a law or something that says bike guys have to be hot. Oh my! I'll tell you what, I'm gonna have to make a point of going there every week to buy another something or other because HOT DAMN them boys are hot. Especially the little cutie working the counter. Hello, he can talk me into buying any damn thing in that store (why do I have a feeling I'll have a new bike by the end of the summer?).

Okay, granted most of the guys are probably straight or so consumed with biking that they have no room for anything else but let's face it. It isn't like I have made the best dating choices (and no stories D. You know way too much about my bad choices!) so it is just kinda nice to go and check out the merchandise so to speak.