Dance Like No One's Watching

I had to check the lunar calendar to see if there was a full moon today. It was around 60 degrees or so today and my thin blood was at a mild boil. It felt good to be out in the sun on my way to work.

While I was waiting for the "L" I caught a group of hip-hop dancers having a dance off on the platform across from me. They were really good and I enjoyed watching them dance. One was female and the other male, but they each had their own unique style.

The train was quite crowded as they are working on modernizing the Belmont stop where I was. Since this stop is a transfer hub, there were several CTA workers on the tracks doing lord knows what. This would've been beneficial for me if at least some of them were attractive. I have to say that there were a lot more hot construction types in western New York than here. My Midwest farm boy fantasy has been blown to smithereens. The northbound train came and took the dancers away.

Now I know for a fact that I’ve danced like no one is watching. Although this can be difficult in a crowded club where there are risks of being hit by a random arm attached to a drunken queen who is flailing like an electrocuted robot.

When I caught the train home, there was a kid who was doing his own version of crumping. I don't recall if he was listening to any music except for the kind that might be playing in his head. Still it was cool to observe this. It made me think of that whole phrase "Dance Like No One's Watching"- and that's just what these people were doing.

Inflatable Doll wants Baby

I hopped online this morning to check my email as this is usually part of my morning routine. I need to put a big note on the front of my refrigerator that says "stop checking your email you freak."

In any event, I saw a news story to hard to resist. The headline read "Jessica Simpson plans to adopt children". What?!

Seriously, what is going on here? Celebrities are adopting children like you and I would consider getting a pet. I'd assume that most celebrities who have done this and had failed marriages is due to the fact that their careers come first.

This all reminds me of an ex who was always wanting new things. First it was me, then a cat and a saltwater tank full of exotic fish. I weighed 160 lbs when I first met him and ballooned to 190 lbs during that time frame and I can tell you first hand that food is not love. But, I digress or is it regress into remembering that?

As I sifted through all this rumored "baby talk", I have to remember that most of this entertainment information is tabloid fodder and if it's appearing in US Weekly then forget it. The real news here people is that
it is speculated that Ms. Simpson is thinking of creating an orphanage in Mexico. That I will agree is a noble cause.

It will certainly provide her and her butt chin with several photo ops and soften even the hardest critic who think she looks like an inflatable doll- oh wait, that's me.

As twisted as this may sound, it probably isn't such a bad thing that Papa Joe is her manager as I am sure he understands all too well that celebrity is fleeting and pimping out his girls (i.e. no time for babies), has their calendars filled until the twelfth of never.

How Gay am I?

I chose paper towels with the Brawny Guy on them because I thought he was hot.

To make matters worse, I prefer the solid white kind, because I am freaky like that and I ended up coming home with a roll that is patterned with little flowers.

Trannie Alert

Can we talk for a moment about Sutan from America's Next Top Model for a moment? Was this guy the real-life role model for Felicity Flicka Huffman Huffman to model her Transamerica character after?

I mean wtf, where do they find these people?

I must figure out how to attach pictures, because without the visual it just loses something.

Nasty Word of the Day

I could not resist an entry devoted to quite possibly one of the nastiest words I have ever heard that was presented to me by my good friend Kathy this past weekend.

Now we all know that every mini-culture, i.e. black, hispanic, gay etc. creates slang words like two inbred twins who speak to each other in their very own special way known as idioglossia.

With this in mind I proudly present to you the word "bdussy". Yes folks, that IS the official spelling according to Urban Dictionary dot com.

What does it mean you might ask? Well, let me tell you. It means that someone smells like booty, dick and pussy.

Here is an example below provided by an Urban Dictionary contributor.

"When my girl came home she knew I had someone in the house because she said, why does our bedroom smell like bdussy?"

What's more is Kathy heard them using this in regards to a co-worker who apparently releases this smell when she drops her drawers in the employee restroom. Now that IS truly nasty, don't you think?

Lost Cargo

Cargo magazine, the men's spin-off of Conde Nast's highly successful women's shopping magazine Lucky has announced that May's issue will be its last. After two years of trying and failing to establish itself in the market, it was born at a moment when publishers felt that Queer Eye For the Straight Guy was king and that the world might be going a bit gay.

Now some are signifying this as the death of the metrosexual, but frankly I never felt that Cargo delivered. It was inconsistent and most of the tech toys and gadgets that it featured were so out of the average guys echelon. Do people really pay $390 for a pair of cotton trousers?

I still believe that a publication that highlights up and coming brands and offers accessibility to them is an untapped market, but at the end of the day I suppose this is part of thegeeked out joy I have for surfing the web and discovering something unique.

Fret not subscribers as you will be sent GQ until your subscription runs out, which coincidentally was rated the gayest magazine in a survey featured in Daily News Record (DNR) magazine. I was surprised not to see Details listed at all, but the survey did note that it as well as gay-oriented mags like Out were excluded. Which ultimately in my opinion is the gayest
thing of all. (exclusion that is.) Oh, the irony.

Does that mean my $89 Club Monaco pants are both average and unpopular? Damn it's like adolescence all over again.

Bronze Brit

A co-worker of mine was talking about Britney Spears appearing on Will & Grace this week and happened to mention that an artist had made a monument of sorts honoring a pregnant version of the pop-star,

I couldn't believe this was true, so I did a quick web search and low and behold there it was in all it's freaky glory.

The Capla Kesting Fine Art museum in Brooklyn, NY is featuring artist Daniel Edwards "Monument to Pro-Life: The Birth of Sean Preston."

The sculpture depicts a nude Britney Spears on a bearskin rug giving birth to her firstborn. Marking a 'first' for Pro-Life.

The life-sized statue celebrates the recent birth of Spears’ baby boy, Sean, and symbolically 'applauds' her decision of placing family before career. Natural aspects of Spears’ pregnancy, like lactiferous breasts and protruding naval, compliment a posterior view that depicts widened hips for birthing and reveals the crowning of baby Sean’s head.

I am both intrigued and repulsed at the same time. Now some of my thoughts are abstract, but who thinks of making a statue of Britney having a baby on a bearskin rug?

David Fincher

Walking to the bus this morning and George Michael's "Freedom 90" came on my iShuffle. This reminded me of a couple of things. My past trip to San Francisco- I sang "Faith" at a karaoke bar called Mint and Evan sang Norah Jones "Turn Me On". He originally wanted to sing "Freedom 90", but the dj was trying to squeeze in as many people as possible, so "Freedom" was cut due to song length.

This didn't stop one woman from singing a hideous rendition of an even more hideous song, Clarence Carter's "Strokin"- who knew they could ever use the term "sas-i-fied " in a song?

Anyhow, I was having one of those moments where I was just singing out loud in the alley. I didn't care if anyone heard me.

I can remember seeing this video which was both beautiful and dark.
It featured the original supermodels, Cindy, Christy, Linda and Naomi among others. It was a rather controversial video as Mr. Michael did not appear in it. The only part of him that did was his leather jacket from "Faith" burning in effigy. The destruction of various symbols of George's past.

In my opinion this was a strong indication that David was tired of making pretty glossy pieces like Paula Abdul's "Forever Your Girl" and Madonna's "Express Yourself". "Bad Girl" off of Madonna's "Erotica"
showed a much darker man gearing up for films "Se7en", "The Game" and "Fight Club".

Fincher's first feature film, Alien 3, was a critical and commercial failure. His vision for the sequel was demolished by Twentieth Century Fox executives. The studio was unwilling to gamble on an even darker version of an already depressing film, especially when handing over an unprecedented budget to a first-time director. By the time the film was made and subsequently released Fincher reportedly “swore he would rather have colon cancer than direct another picture.”

Upon doing a search for current projects I found the trailer for the movie "Zodiac". It's tagline is "The most infamous serial killer of our time is still out there."

It would appear that David is turning to the serial killer genre once more.

Based on the Robert Graysmith books about the real life notorious Zodiac, a serial killer who who hunted down victims in San Francisco's streets and public parks with a string of seemingly random murders during the 1960s and 1970s. The Zodiac Killer was never arrested, though a couple of books have named the man most likely responsible for the brutal killings.

Creepy.

See You Later, Alligator

As I consider myself one of the last people hopping on the trend wagon and forking over my paycheck to purchase the latest craze I thought I would let this entry be an homage to Bernard Lacoste. My mother had it right when she used to remove the Alligator on my sister's shirts and sew them on something else, but my sister and I couldn't see it.

In lieu of this, it was announced yesterday that Monsieur Lacoste passed away. Best known for its crocodile-embossed polo shirts, he has been credited with turning the family sportswear business into a major apparel company.

The family has not provided a cause of death, saying only that Lacoste, who stepped down last year as president, had been suffering from a "serious illness" for more than a year.

Not to be disrespectful, but I can't help but wonder if maybe he was spun around in a loom and buried beneath a pile of pique polo's in some sort of accident mirroring the behavior of a real alligator?

The Star Report

Star Jones-Reynolds is recovering from an air leak, um breast-lift procedure performed last week at a Santa Monica hospital, her publicist said Wednesday.

"Star is recovering wonderfully," publicist Brad Zeifman said in a statement to The Associated Press.

The co-host of ABC's daytime talk show "The View" underwent surgery last Friday. That day, husband Al Reynolds slipped at a gym and was taken to the emergency room with two cuts to the head. Was this because he was informed she was doing better? Or was it an accident that happened while he was showering?

7552

That was the number of the bus I took to work today which was packed. I think this has solidified my taking the train to work instead. Although that has its own freakness factor.

There were two elderly women sitting in front of where I was standing and one of them had a cane. As the bus rocked and jerked up Lake Shore drive I had visions of the handle of this cane heading straight for my junk.

I was relieved when they exited at the first stop on Michigan Avenue and that my premonition did not materialize.

Dirty Little Secret

No not mine. Although I probably have a few of them.

Yesterday afternoon when I went to the gym I saw one of the trainers at my gym, well I should say "previous trainers" as he has made a career change. They have a wall of staff members with 8x10 glossy images right before you enter the mens locker room. Suffice to say this has changed more times than a reality show has chosen those they'd like to continue dating.

I wouldn't have really even noticed him, but due to the fact that I briefly dated one of his friends and had been introduced, well I remember a face at the very least. So that said, his disappearance from the wall should have been no real surprise.

I don't remember when it was that I re-discovered him, although this time it was online. No longer using his real name he has emerged as a bona fide porn star. I was heading to the locker room and he looked back, I looked at him and I knew he knew that. His sister is working the front desk I'm finding it difficult not to ask where her brother is these days.

Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi

One of the funny things about surfing the web or having a conversation with someone is those little things that make you chuckle as they bring up a past memory.

Now yesterday evening my roommate and I drove out to visit our suburban friends. This is a group of varying size depending on who can make it or not. Last night was a small group and we watched a program our friend Rob had recorded called "Wisecrack". Ironically living in the gay hood does not mean you get Logo, but if you live in the suburbs you do. Hmm. Curious.

The one comedienne spoke to the point that they had seen a show that discussed why people are born gay. The theory was that a child was predisposed to a certain amount of gayness dependent upon how much stress their mother was under while gestating. For example, if a mother was really stressed out, the child was more effeminate and if the mother was less stressed more what we call butch.

I found this humorous and interesting at the same time. I also saw a picture of a Princess Leia action figure in its original packaging and thought of a conversation I had with my mother this morning. The gist of it was that I was grateful that they allowed me to be generally as creative as I wanted to be. Remember that my mother did purchase the fuchsia polka dot fabric which I wrote about previously and wore in the swimming pool?

My dad also was working for Max Factor and Rivera during my childhood years, but I never had the desire to put any makeup on. I did admire the sample cases of Rivera hair clips and sunglasses. They seemed so exotic to me. But that is beside the point. I do remember seeing the original Star Wars and wanting to re-create that in our garage.

There was an overweight girl who lived near us. My first fag hag I'm guessing now. I checked out a library book on costumes and asked her to make me a tunic like princess Leia's. I also took my pajama bottoms and put them on my head because the elastic band fit snugly on my head and allowed me to roll the legs up and tuck them in, mimicking the futuristic Swiss Miss Carrie Fisher look.

I mean WTF?! How gay is that?

I must be stopped

I got back from the grocery store and although my list called for Oatmeal, I ended up purchasing "Flahavan's Progress Oats". The package's tagline states that it "Sets you up for life". I mean for $6 for a 1 kg package, that seems like a literal bargain now doesn't it? I mean who doesn't want to start everyday on the right foot?

Plus you can get gift items from them such as a beloved Ladybird Book?, a bedside alarm clock, garden secateurs? or playing cards. That is if you live in Ireland. Hopefully I'll be able to decipher the instructions on this package now so I can actually eat them...

A Sure Sign of Spring

Although it is 30 outside, but feels like 17 I did see a big fat robin hopping around as I walked to the grocery store this afternoon.

Kissing a Fool

I have always been a firm believer that a true test of physical compatibility is through a kiss. It's called first base for a reason and gives you a preview of what's to come or at least that's what I like to believe now. I suppose at one time or another I thought this contained various forms of expression and because I had no literal frame of reference I wasn't able to define it. Now I can safely say that kisses have their own language and moment.

A conversation I had with "actor" boy last weekend said that kissing was far more intimate to him than having sex. Flash forward to awkward party moment number one. It was a St. Patrick's Day party at my friend Adam's place for our friend Ian who was in town for the weekend from NYC. It was early on at the party and I was having a similar conversation with a couple of guys. Apparently one of the guys I was talking to took this literally as an invitation. I consider myself a fairly perceptive person, but had no idea this was coming.

I will admit for the most part when it comes to things like this I'm oblivious, I must have been born without it and given a freakish savant penchant for details instead.

Because I am not a cruel person, I will not name anyone lest they have their feelings hurt. I certainly would be calling the kettle black if I didn't say that I have not transformed into Tara Reid from time to time under the influence of alcohol. This was not one of those moments for me.

After said conversation, this guy told me he wanted to show me a picture he had taken with Oprah. (We'll call him Green Goblin) I figured that was what he was going to show me, we just met and I didn't get the vibe that were cosmic lovers separated at birth.

The picture was in my friend Adam's bedroom. One minute I was looking at the picture and the next minute Green Goblin was trying to shove his tongue down my throat. I declined and exited as gracefully as I could. I wasn't interested and when someone is making advances under the precursor of alcohol and you are in a different mental space, well it just doesn't fit.

He proceeded to follow me around during the night, feigning jealousy when I spoke to other guys at the party. I believe at one point I said "Ian's my guy", in jest and his response was "I thought I was your guy". Trust me, in most cases this will send me running for the hills. I may act nice on the outside but my internal flight mechanism has been switched on.

However, the aside is, according to Ian that I made out with half the people at the party, which is NOT true. I only kissed three guys, Ian being one of them. Is that wrong? ha! ha! I am such a hypocrite. But that's not the point of my story.

As the party wore on, I think Green Goblin was beginning to get the picture as his niceness turned south. His final words to me were "Oh by the way, you have a receding hairline." What a narsty little bitch!

I want candy

Something in the air reminded me of cotton candy today, which made me think of a rather large woman who was on the train last night chatting away on her cell phone and pulling clumps of smurf blue cotton candy out of a bag and stuffing them into her pie hole.

Oh public transportation. I've been switching it up lately as the train seems to be a bit more reliable as far as getting home. Keep in mind that I live in one of the most heavily populated areas of Chicago and yet there always seem to be a lack of the express bus I take to get to and from work.

This made me think of the bus ride into work this morning and a friend who had said that the drivers on the weekend are all female. I haven't quite put this theory to the test, but the driver this morning was. She had a lead foot and an attitude. There was this poor guy trying to get on after the doors closed. He knocked on the bus doors and she just ignored him and drove on. Then there was an elderly woman getting off at the stop prior to the one I was getting off at.

Now these buses have a lift that lowers and raises for elderly and handicapped passengers. This poor frail wisp of a woman was exiting and she just stood there waiting for the driver to lower this. For a moment I thought the driver was just going to drop kick her out the door. After a brief pause she lowered this lift maybe a two or three inches, no lie, and the poor thing slowly made it to the curb. Now that's just cold.

Why not?

I am standing on the second floor of the store when an Airport Shuttle van passes by with an advert for the now defunct show "Emily's Reasons Why Not". Canceled after one episode because the premise of a beautiful woman like Heather Graham who is unable to find success in romance was even too far fetched for the remotest parts of America. I mean come on now, she was Rollergirl in "Boogie Nights"

Despite heavy promotion by both Sony and ABC, the show was pulled after the first episode. Production was stopped after filming six episodes and it is unknown if they will air at a later date. ABC was said to have spent millions on promotion, including airtime, billboards and radio ads.

It has been reported that ABC committed to the show and its promotion before seeing a script. After viewing it, ABC's entertainment president suggested that they considered the show a dud and unlikely to improve. Insert dying Pac-Man sound here.

Primary thoughts

Today was a perfect day to be at work. It was gray and the sun was reduced to looking like a bright cotton ball in an otherwise gray sky. This was further emphasized by the contrast of the sky against the lake on the bus ride into work today. It looked more like a Hollywood soundstage as opposed to being real. It might be cloudy out but wait a bit and it will change.

With the opening of "V for Vendetta" this weekend, I couldn't help but wonder if art was imitating life. This timely political thriller is bound to capture an allegiance of fans as well as critics. Would it be worth it to simply see Natalie Portman go all GI Jane?

This is the latest offering from the brothers Wachowski. The same boys responsible for the now overly cribbed and parodied Matrix Trilogy. I can't criticize them, I only saw the first one and was one of the few who didn't have a life change after seeing it. What can I say? I look at things differently so don't hate.

Vendetta is set against the futuristic landscape of totalitarian Britain, where a young woman named Evey (Portman) is rescued from a life threatening situation by a masked vigilante known only as "V." Skilled in the art of combat and deception, "V" urges his fellow citizens to rise up against tyranny and oppression.

Mind you this is the stuff of high-minded movies with a political message and the premise is as old as one of my favorite films "Metropolis", which in my opinion was a pioneer in this genre. I have read that the underground Shadow Gallery in "V" was shot on the same soundstage where Fritz Lang filmed in 1927. I'll have to wait and see as I am waiting for the movie "Brick" to come out, but I do have to say I like the teaser posters I've seen for "V" around Chicago.

In other news, the primary elections are on Tuesday the 21st and it looks as if Cook County Board President John Stroger won't be out of the hospital in time for next week's primary election. Although this doesn't seem to be a threat to his position. He was taken to the hospital Tuesday morning after suffering a stroke. What is it with this country allowing candidates of poor health to be in office and make decisions for us?

I'll think I'll vote for Richard Remus for Cook County Sheriff as I always liked that Disney film "Song of the South" with Uncle Remus and Brer Rabbit.

Asstastic

I never got hooked on the whole Laguna Beach craze that was taking over my friends brains and replacing them with teenage girl versions of themselves. After watching the first episode of 8th & Ocean I'll admit I'm hooked. I really must stop watching all this nonsense, but if you are at all familiar with the current format of MTV these days you'll soon realize it's like the Vanity Fair of television networks, mostly advertisements and little content. Who does their programming? TiVo never seems able to record their programs in its entirety. Do you have any idea how many episodes of Date My Mom have left me hanging?

The first episode is narrated by Suzy, a booking agent for the elite Miami-based Irene Marie Agency. After setting up the premise, Suzy introduces us to our first model Britt, a Midwestern Lolita waiting to reveal her inner freak. We know this because she explains how she was home-schooled, has never been to a club and does not know how to dance.

Since the premiere episode was titled "Sibling Rivalry", it's time to meet the twins, Sabrina and Kelly. We first meet them at a casting call for a spread in Ocean Drive magazine. Kelly comes in first and shows her book to the casting agents. She proceeds to strip down to her bikini for a couple of shots and then is sent on her way. All this occurs while the casting agents tongues are wagging and eating out of her hand.

Her twin sister Sabrina is next. However, something's amiss with Sabrina. (We must establish plot points early here people.) The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop, In fact to reinforce this I think they dubbed in the sound of crickets. The agents don't even ask her to take anything off. Sabrina leaves and the casting agents ask Suzy which twin she thinks would be better for their shoot. Suzy says Kelly will "give it to them more" right now than Sabrina. Sabrina's test shots have been coming back "dead in the eyes" she says.

Following this there's small talk between Britt and the other girls at the models' apartment most of which I tuned out because I was waiting for them to introduce the boys.

They are: Teddy, Adrian, Sean and Vinci. We see them doing things that boys do... eating pizza and making plans for the evening. They have an inane exchange about scoring booty and the theory of going to a club with girls attracts girls, so they're going to get the girls? Adrian promises to call Sean once he's reached the mythical land of Bootopia.

This prompts Teddy to ask Adrian if he's so into the booty, why was he home last night when the other guys were out? Adrian blames this on Sean, saying he doesn't know how to use a phone. Since Sean's a model, I'm inclined to believe this is not so far from the truth.

Cut to Sabrina and Kelly fighting about the clothes they're going to wear to the club. Kelly doesn't like Sabrina's shirt. Sabrina doesn't like Kelly's bandanna etc. Britt decides to stay home, which will probably be happening a lot this season.

The next morning, Sabrina is called into Irene Marie's office. Irene Marie is one scary looking lady. Words cannot describe lest to say the knife has not been good to her. I thought for a moment she might be the lead singer of "Dead or Alive" slumming in Miami. Hey this is my blog, so in my mind it could happpen. She tells Sabrina her book is a mess. Her pictures have no life. She looks dead in the eyes. Sabrina tells Irene that she's used to being given direction from the photographer and that he took better pictures of her sister.

"Let's get one thing straight," Irene Marie counters. "When you're getting paid to be a model, you're the one who's supposed to know what to do." This makes Sabrina cry, so Irene Marie takes pity and sets up another test shoot up for her to see if she can put this advice to good use.

There's more booty talk amongst the boys. The girls convince Britt to go to the club with them. It's all just too "Footloose" for words.

The following morning, Irene Marie makes a call to a photographer named Navid regarding Sabrina. She tells him "if there's anyone who can bring a girl out, it's you, Navid," From the looks of Navid, I highly doubt this. He's one fat sweaty man. One thing is certain, you'd never see him taking snapshots of the girls on "America's Next Top Model".

Sabrina models with Adrian. Navid tells them the more they trust in what he tells them to do, the better the shoot will look. To prove it, he tells Adrian to "cup the booty." Sabrina looks miserable, and keeps moving her head, despite Navid's plea for her not to move her head. This prompts him to yell "I lost the hair again!" over and over.

Later, Sabrina tells Kelly about the shoot, how cold it was and how she got to do a shower scene with Adrian. Sabrina seems really pleased with the results. This makes it the perfect time for Kelly to burst her bubble by announcing that she landed the spread in Ocean Drive magazine. Much sulking ensues.

Irene Marie meets with Sabrina to discuss her new set of photographs. Sabrina has a very strong contact with the camera in these shots, but Irene Marie feels Sabrina could've had a better connection with Adrian. Maybe had she moved her hands through his hair or cupped his booty?

Sabrina plays the blame game again and tells Irene Marie this failure is Navid's fault. Irene Marie says she's trying to teach Sabrina how to interact with the photographer. She guarantees that had Sabrina suggested something to him, he'd have been blown away.

The show ends with Irene Marie stating that if Sabrina doesn't emerge out her shell and start showing the camera a little bit of something, she's not going to go anywhere in this business.

Color me smitten. Thank you TiVo.

My Inner Child

I feel like a a geek this morning as I empty out the paper shredder and think how it is both practical and cathartic. Sitting here drinking my breakfast smoothie and pondering what tasks I would like to accomplish today.

I am happy to say that it has been sunny and clear on both of my days off and there are no clouds in the sky this morning- it's just all blue making me think of Johnny Nash singing "I Can See Clearly Now" on my parent's stereo when I was a little boy. I think I'll grab my camera and take some snaps today. Once I figure out how to integrate them onto this blog I will, but the photo hosting companion to this site prefers the Windows environment.

I find myself still ogling children's picture books when purchasing them for my nephews. I'm looking at the artwork and story. I picked up a great children's book at the De Young in San Francisco called "The Other Side" by Istvan Banyai. I consider this book to be a visual experience that questions the obvious, the top, the bottom, the flip side of what our eyes perceive. Everything on one page corresponds to what happens on the next by showing the "other side". It's a bunch of quirky illustrations that appealed to my sensibilities, so I kept it for myself.

Speaking of children, I found myself Googling man-child actor Kevin Zegers, who plays the son of Felicity Huffman's transgendered parent in "Transamerica". I saw this movie Sunday evening with my roommate and found myself more than a bit distracted when he was on screen.

My Google search led me to numerous fan sites which mostly document his of pre-teen acting days, which made me feel gross because frankly, I wasn't looking for screen caps of a shirtless twelve year old. That's just not it ok, nor does that do anything for me. I was relieved to find out that the Kevin Zegers that piqued my interest is 21, which is still a stretch I know, but not pedophilia. Phew!

To be continued

Which was last night's closure for The Amazing Race. I have to say I haven't really gotten into this season as much as I have in the past. Nothing will ever top Charla. I mean if she had a talk show, I would watch it. She was mesmerizing and I was rooting for her and hoping her Phil obsessed cousin Mirna would disappear.

It's painful to watch the eldest couple Fran and Barry as they blunder through. I commend Fran on her recovery from cancer, but seeing her husband's hairy arms and back when he did the diving challenge made me ponder whether or not hygiene and grooming just goes out the window at some point.

Jeremy and Eric, the two frat guys from Florida annoy the shit out of me because they are malecature's (male caricature's). They "want to be millionaires, but don't want to work for it". Because lack of work ethic really helps you in anything. Boys this only happens in movies like "Cocktail". Hell that movie had a video with John Stamos playing bongos with the Beach Boys. Sweet inspiration.

I do have to admit I enjoyed last weeks episode where these boys were in a cab in Sao Paolo stopped at a red light and noticed prostitutes. Although they refrain from stopping here to go have sex with them, Eric yells "nice ass" before realizing that said posterior belongs to a man. Oops. I think a ratings coup would be for these two boys to get in on with each other, but I digress...

All Is Full of Love

Tuesday morning and I went to bed last night and didn't have to set the alarm. That is a wonderful feeling. Not that my internal clock doesn't usually kick in a around six am or so every day, but just the same its a good feeling.

Is is bright and crisp outside with a few wisps of clouds. If I remember correctly from my junior high years these would be called "cirrus" clouds. Wow, something from my unreal life experiences did stick. Other than remembering how my penis had a mind of it's own during this time too and would be at attention while the teacher was identifying an element of the periodic table.

This entry was born off of a couple of wonderful emails I received this morning from friends whom I haven't seen or spoken to in awhile. I have to say that friends are the fabric that keep us connected. We don't always recognize that they are there to protect us if that makes any sense. I'll have to ponder that esoteric thought and see if I cannot describe it more clearly at a later time.

It's not always easy to admit, but I feel I've come to a good place in my life and I've learned that the handful of good friends in my life have helped to bring me where I am. This is not to say that I don't have my moments and that I don't push the limits of what many would classify as happiness. It's all too human to have those moments where we just want to screw the place we find ourselves at which is true boredom. It's the internal mechanism that provides you with a wake up call.

It's that youthful attribute that tells you to keep pushing allowing you to look at past photos of yourself and chuckle at how you were so into one thing or another. Other places, bad haircuts, good ones, jobs, loves.

So if I may leave a message for the day, it would be to remember that you have a vision. There may be times when it is clearer than others, but it will manifest and provide you with strength if you let it. Control is something that simply cannot be and all is full of love. Well, most everything. I don't want to get too philosophical this early in the morning. You all will wonder what kind of coffee I was drinking.

Monday, Monday

A new week and the sun is shining outside. I feel re invigorated as
this is the day before my day off and it seems to be moving by at a good pace.

Did I happen to mention that Mother Nature is having hot flashes?

Saturday was humid and sixty degrees which put me in a rare mood to go out. That must be what they mean by "Spring Fever". I ended up chatting with this guy who I once was interested in. He was surrounded by his beautiful people friends. One of which was on and off his cell phone continuously. My friends kept fawning over this guy. I just kept visualizing him as the type of person who would accept a call while someone else is performing fellatio on him. That is totally unattractive to me.

I imagine that is why I'm different and that the Midwest doesn't always fit with me. I'm at some other place mentally looking for people who get me. My venture out was entertaining at the very least and I did catch the eye of a 23 year old. He's doing an advertising gig in Andersonville and I found myself carrying a completely useless conversation.

I think if I met someone who had that kind of spark I would fall over. But, I have been fortunate enough to have a wonderful group of friends who do embody those attributes, so not all is lost.

Sunday was much cooler with rain. There is fog rolling in and it's once again somewhat humid. They're calling for snow later this evening. Who needs to travel anywhere when you can have at least three out of

Social Dumbass

OMG. I feel like a social dumbass. I received an evite to a party for my friend Ian and thought geez, I can't believe he waited until today to send this out. I sent him a reply and told him of course I'd be there. He's coming from NYC and all...

I rummaged through my closet and put on my best pair of jeans, tszujed my hair, brushed my teeth, looked in the mirror and was on my way.

Shortly thereafter I rang my friend Adam's doorbell, where said party is taking place and thought how strange it was that nobody answered. I began to feel like I was too early, was being set up like Sissy Spacek in "Carrie", who knows what, it already had been a kooky day so this was quite fitting.

I walked home and opened my e-mail to double check the date of the party. Which is...next Friday.

I'm going to bed now.

Goodnight!

Failure to Launch

Failure to sell a ticket. I'd only see this movie to see McConaughey's half naked body.

Sorry Sarah Jessica , just like la Aniston you'll always be remembered for your small screen persona more.

Finale Fatale

Oh my poor little dears, watching the season finale of "Project Runway" just gone and worn me out. All that faux bitchery and Debra Messy, I mean Messing. The camera must make you look bigger coz girlfriend still looked a bit full from giving birth.

I felt bad for Santino as he had basically neutered himself. He actually listened to Nina Garcia and Michael Kors. What was that Goth Snow White thing? Can you say one of these things is not like the other? How cruel of them to say that once you take away the shreds you have ill-fittting womens wear.

Let's talk about Daniel...and his model tripping on that fishtail or whatever it was...Runway Roadkill. Props to Nick as the one dress they really adored was his...less is more. I knew there was a reason I loved him.

Oh and Chloe picking Diana...all I could think was Chloe outsourcing her production overseas with a factory full of bewildered Diana's and Chloe screaming "make it work!" I wanted to see her ride out on a mechanized elevation device speaking in her native tongue. Diva indeed.

I think the real highlights were seeing Loopy with her head wrap. Ms. Austin Scarlet and Michael Kors wearing sunglasses in the tent. Honey, you ain't no Karl Lagerfeld.

Crystal Light

The residents of Crystal Lake Illinois have got their proverbial panties in a bunch over this summer's Gay Games.

The Crystal Lake Park District Board reversed last week's vote that would have barred the 2006 Gay Games rowing competition from taking place in the conservative Chicago suburb. Board President Jerry Sullivan was absent from the town's first vote, (he was in Mexico and according to Brokeback Mountain we all know what goes on in Mexico). The vote was held again, angering many of the residents who showed up at a contentious Park Board meeting to speak their mind.

Approval by the Park District board would be the first hurdle cleared for McHenry County to host the rowing competition. The stage then would be set for the Crystal Lake City Council and the Lakewood Village Board to consider the request. Both communities, which border the spring-fed lake, must approve the event.

Maybe they're afraid that the participants will turn the water into Kool Aid and anyone who drinks from it will become fabulous.

What's in a name?

I saw an ad on the back of some magazine with Felicity Hufman's face and the Dove Soap moniker beneath it. Naturally the curiosity got the best of me to find out if I was hallucinating or really seeing this. So of course I Googled it and sure enough, it would appear that Dove has introduced a new brand called "Dove Calming Night", because we all know how we're suckers for brand strategy. You can see these spots if you go to the Dove Night web site. Regardless, I'm going to pull out that Oprah card again, but please bear with me.

She too was on the Oscar episode and of course she was glammed out. You know how agents position their stars once they've done a controversial role. See Hillary Swank. It's tits out- hey I'm a woman. Heath Ledger, Casanova...you get the picture.

Anyhow, she was talking about how her mother changed her birth name as it was not considered a good christian name. Originally it was Flicka. All I could think was what the Fucka kind of name is Flicka?! And what the hell is in Dove Calming Night cream that makes you sleep better?

Taradise lost

If it's one thing that a Libra does not like is unbalance. This is usually occurs when they have found themselves under the influence dissolving into a state of incoherent babble becoming a blithering idiot and finally collapsing. This happened at some point Sunday evening to yours truly. Tara Reid and me became best friends with the exclusion of a nippple falling out.

Lord only knows where I get my dramatic element from. I wasn't what I would typically describe as a dramatic child, unless you count asking my mother to purchase me a yard of fuscia polka dot polyester which I cut a hole in and swam around the pool in. Dear god.

I just returned this morning on the Red Eye from San Francisco to Chicago. San Francisco is an amazing and beautiful city. On a clear night you are under this canopy of stars with the city twinkling below you. I went out to visit my friend Evan. I think we about giggled ourselves silly most of the time. I'm still kicking myself that I didn't take pictures of those crazy pieces of weave that were strewn along the street.

Wishing you were here

You've got to love the airport if only for the people watching alone. I saw a woman in a pink camouflage puffy jacket with pink sweatpants and Ugg boots- is she planning on hiding in the Barbie DreamHouse? This house boasts all the amenities and features an American icon deserves, from a clawfoot bathtub to a four-poster bed. Other features include bay windows, a fully equipped kitchen, and a front balcony. This pink-and-lavender Victorian-style house is complete with a flower bed, surface embellishment, a working elevator, and a doorbell. It even folds up for storage or travel. Barbie is not included. Bingo!

Again I'm wishing I had brought my digital voice recorder as handwriting can be a challenge given that I see things and want to capture them as that's the beauty of a thought- it's not entirely polished in the literary sense.

I ate a Mc-something for lunch and this goes completely against my eating regime which has consisted of nuts and berries. I have been following the Men's Health diet program and if I were to go head to head with farm raised cattle, I would be on par. I am sure once my body realizes what I just ate it will come as a toxic red flag.

I call this easy in and easy out food. Maybe this is why it's called fast food, although I used to think just the opposite when I regularly ate mcbreakfast's during my mall retail days as it would sit there for a good four hours.

Big Pimpin?

I always have an epiphany while working out at the gym. They were playing a clip of the already over-exposed Eva Longoria at her current beau's basketball game on one of the many suspended television sets and I thought, why does she annoy me so much?

Could it be her multiple product endorsements for everything from Hanes to L'Oreal? Then a light bulb went off in my head and I thought it's the Rachael Ray association combined with Oprah Winfrey. Ms. Ray is the Food Network's tiny titan who can cook you a meal in 30 minutes and laugh away while she travels the world on $40 a day.

It's something that seems so innocuous, but so sickening and sweet that you've got to make room for lunch because you're about to loose your breakfast after seeing one of them.

I also saw a clip from the Oprah Oscar episode with Terrance Howard where she asked him how he did his research for "Hustle & Flow". He said he met several pimps and cribbed from their life experiences. Oprah replied that she didn't know any pimps. Hell, she's one of the biggest pimps I know. See the following examples below in regards to Longoria and Ray.

Eva was on Oprah because she bought a house for her parents, and asked Nate Berkus to fix it up. She purchased outdooor furniture for them and her parents put it inside their house. Her mother said that she always dreamed of having a leather couch, while her father seems to prefer deer heads.

When Rachael was on Oprah and sharing some of her kitchen tips, she said, "you must have two cutting boards...the big one will last a life time...one for meat...etc.) , to which Oprah replied, "really, huh, two cutting boards?". I love it when Oprah pretends to be interested. C'mon now doesn't she have her own private chefs? If I could speculate at what was really going on in Oprah's mind it would be something like this. "Hear me now cattle, I am backing her financially, please find her fascinating, so I can make mo' money."

Now Ms. Ray has a lifestyle magazine called "Every Day with Rachael Ray". I saw a copy of it while walking through the magazine racks at Borders Books. At first I mistook it as another spin-off of the Conde-Nast lifestyle tree. (EDWRR is a Reader's Digest Association publication.) I went home and Googled it. I found the web site for this publication and found you can purchase such items as the Ladies' YUM-O! T-shirt and men's "Got EVOO?" t-shirt. "YUM-O!" is Rachael's way of describing food that's so good saying "yum" just isn't enough! What the fuck?!

Project Runway

(To be read in the voice of Tim Gunn)

I know this is totally random, but who knew that Santino's friend Tony was none other than Madonna's ex, Tony Ward. Hmm, Santino's got the Madonna connection. I am a sucker for a back story and I have to say that my heart did soften for Santino after hearing where he came from. I mean, I don't know about you, but I could totally relate.

I have to say too, that I was originally impressed with Daniel's collection, but when I saw it on his model, all I could think was "Renaissance Faire". And those purses...what the @#*$- Pappagallo on crack! That haircut too, there is a fine line between hipster and housewife when it comes to hair.

I think Santino may come from left field, as I wasn't really into Chloe's big fuchsia poof with gold- it was too "Hello Boca Raton", just make sure to pair it with some Foster Grants Chloe. She's too tame for my tastes and I have to agree with Santino's commentary about her being a pattern maker. That is certainly a talent, but not sketching out her designs is the kiss of death to me.

I am totally for the organic process, but it has to stem from somewhere and have a flow to it, which we will see or not see next week. I can hardly wait to hear all the bitching. Bring it on Kors and Garcia. What up with Debra Messing as a guest judge?! Where the hell is Parker Posey? Wait- Parker Posey is Loony Lupe! I thought she looked familiar...you go girl!

Oooh, I feel much better now, don't you?