A connecting principle, linked to the invisible

Freakgirl's post yesterday about how all her friends seem to intertwine got me thinking. I know that's not technically synchronicity. Still, despite my scientific and basically atheistic bent, I used to stop and ponder when events like that took place. Despite my better judgment, I used to take those kind of things as signs that I was on the right path. Cosmic reassurance. A hug from the omnipotent. I never REALLY believed it. I tell myself that anyway. I don't think there IS any path, of course. Hello? Free will, yo! Still, this morning when I had to start a new box of oatmeal, a new jar of honey, a new tube of shaving cream (oooh...this stuff is divine! remind me to tell you about it) and a new bottle of Listerine, all before 6AM, I paused again. If I believed in the Fates, they were hitting me on the head with an anvil. Time for new beginnings, bro!
PS Mythic god-wise, I always did prefer the Furies over the Fates. They're just so mischievous!

The legacy I leave behind be the seed

I was so frothy over Brokeback Mountain that I almost forgot to give props to Munich. Heh. Like y'all are just BAITED over my lil' recommendations, right? I have to say, though, that I think Munich is the best thing Steven Speilberg has done in forever. And timely? Sure the horrific slaughter of Israeli athletes was during the '72 Olympics in Munich, but consider that the folks responsible were said to be Hamas. Ring a bell? Only like the guys who have taken a majority control in Palestine's recent elections. Munich is not so much about the massacre, but the aftermath. What was Israel's response? Was that response a seed that is bearing fruit even today, 30 years later? What price do people and even countries pay for taking revenge? Both Jewish and Palestinian groups are angry about their portrayal in Munich. I think that's a testament to the film. It raises a lot of questions and doesn't give pat answers. There are a few scenes of almost unbearable suspense and I won't lie, it does get long in spots, but I think that was intentional. They make you taste the burden and futility of revenge. Great stuff and apparently the Academy agrees.

Did you think I was going to do a whole post with no mention of HOTT guys? Eric Bana makes me sweat all over. Also, I was underwhelmed when I heard they'd chosen Daniel Craig as the new Bond. Still pictures don't do him justice. He is teh sex onscreen. You know me, so please don't be offended that I was ogling dudes during a serious movie.

That's what I call ballin' the jack

If you hang around here you must be down with the gays so I know you'll appreciate the photo story that Brian (aka Faggoty-Ass Faggot)(tagline: his loafers are light, his tongue is acid) has posted over at his joint. I've always crushed on him a little (he's hilarious) and now that I know he's so cute and has such a tight little ass, well, ummmm, well, I don't know. ::gulps:: Just go check him out.

Call me Big Daddy when you back that ass up

I have a question for those of you more computer savvy than I (read: all y'all). After iTunes has repeatedly cautioned me to back up my music, I'm finally getting a little concerned. Confession time. I don't back up shit. Nothing. I understand that if my computer would crash, music I've downloaded might be unrecoverable. So, what is the best way to back up a considerable amount of music? Should I buy one of those external hard drives things or is that not even what those are for? Right now I'm just concerned with backing up the music. I stream my porn, so that's not an issue. I have about 12 GB of tuneage and counting. Three feet high and rising....anyone?
PS Could I restore music from my iPod onto a new machine?

We are family

One of the best things about blogs (and this is no revelation) is that they can make you feel like an 'us' instead of a 'them'. We don't feel so strange because invariably there is someone out there who feels the same way. Like just now when eating congealed leftover hot and sour soup straight outta the fridge for lunch sent me into paroxysms of joy. I'm sure I'm not the only one. I'm not. Right?

Yes I ask you very confidentially: Ain't she sweet?

The day goes on and on when you go to bed around 11P on Saturday night and get up at 2:30A on Sunday morning. So I read a little, ate into my TiVo backlog, and then caught the Australian Open men's final. Federer is a great guy and all and a near living legend, but I was rooting hard for the upstart Cypriot, Marcos Baghdatis. My unseeded and unheralded brother went up a set and a break and was within one point of two breaks in the second set, when the wheels fell off. Federer grabbed the set and then rolled through the next two for his seventh Grand Slam title. All that and it was barely 6:00 A EST, kids.

I spent a good part of the day with my sister and her girls. My sister was in a rather serious car accident this week, hit by a dude who ran a red light and smashed her into a UPS truck. She's relatively fine, but her car isn't. So it was minivan shopping, yo. I'll venture it's something I'll never do for myself, so I was game. After all, I hold the belts from both federations when it comes to negotiating....you see where I'm going here...that's right....I'm Marvin Haggler....so she was happy to have me along. She'll be picking up her new mommy-mobile next week.

Then it was back into my own sportier whip for some shopping: shower products, then textiles, then clothes, then food. Doesn't that sound like a slice of heaven, y'all? I'm just home now. Having some hot and sour soup and laundering my new sheets. Mmmmmm.....I know some of you are sticklers for insanely high thread counts, but you can have the slick, I like the friction. These are something like 300,plenty for me, and there is a curious weave that is divine. Love some texture. When I was opening them up, a little note fell out. I couldn't get my camera to capture the text, so I'll copy it here:

Sometimes, I feel as if I'm always cleaning up a mess. If I'm not picking it up, then I'm putting it away. But, when everything is in its place, I feel like I'm finally in mine. I hope that when you find the perfect place for this, it helps you find yours. Live well, Nate.

Isn't he just the sweetest thing?

The shareef don't like it

I am always vowing to cut back on television. I know, I know. Heresy! Still, the words have barely passed my lips when the fates or TiVo or fourfour conspire to shove them back down my throat. This time it's fourfour's fault. Project Runway is just about the tastiest morsel that I've been made to swallow in years. Is there anything not to love about this show? From the large with child Heidi Klum and her peculiar Bavarian bon mots to Haughty McHottie Tim Gunn who's all bang!bang! with the head-voiced critiques, it's a joy. If you watch it and haven't been reading fourfour's recaps, drop everything and get your gay/gay-friendly ass over there and check it out. Specifically, this week Santino did a SPOT ON impression of Tim Gunn which I've listened to a dozen times now, thanks to Rich.

Also, Max gave me the heads up on Tim Gunn's PRICELESS podcast recaps.

Added: OK, one more. Here's Santino doing T Gunn doing "Closer" by NIN over on the Bravo. (while the adorable/lickable Daniel V loses his shit over it)

Oh I can see Daniel waving goodbye

Some Christian groups were up in arms over NBC's new show The Book of Daniel, so naturally I checked it out. It's only been on three weeks, but it was shaping up to be a good series. It had a dash of Six Feet Under, a smidgen of Joan of Arcadia, with great actors and snappy writing. A good start. Jesus came off really well and the humans came off as, well, human so obviously the Christians hated it, sight unseen. OK, so the show stars Aidan Quinn as a Vicodin addicted priest with a gay son that he loves unconditionally. Isn't that whole unconditional love thing pretty Jesus-y? Anyway, machts nicht, because the show is cancelled. I think it had much less to do with any Christian boycott and much more to do with NBC burying it midseason on a very dead night. As my token of esteem for the show, I'm honoring Aidan Quinn on MEAT FRIDAY. Yeah, I'm definitely skewing/skewering older with my last few kabobs, but this man has had my attention since I saw his ass in Desperately Seeking Susan and then was transfixed by his his soulful eyes and soft voice as he played gay in An Early Frost (twenty years before today's actors are considered so brave for taking queer roles).
Oh, and if you're one of the tens of fans who was enjoying this show, they are airing the final episode, web only, tonight at 8 EST. Not sure how that's going to work.
Finally, in that second shot AQ is not at his best, but I loved the overly optimistic t-shirt so.

Do you believe in magic?

Anyone have a book recommendation for me? I have a stack of unread things (including a couple leftovers from last Christmas), but if you have something that I'll LOVE, well then I'll just have to use that 20% off coupon at Borders this weekend. Here are the last few things I've read:

My Friend Leonard
It's the follow-up to the now notorious A Million Little Pieces. It's a good story, now lessened for me with the revelations about Frey playing fast and loosey with the truthy. I don't mind feeling a memoir has been enhanced for my reading pleasure, but I don't want it manufactured whole cloth. Then it's fiction and Frey's stuff worked because it was supposedly a stark truth. As fiction it's only fair to middling. Truth or fiction aside, loved the gay twist. I search out the queer in media so often, it gives me a little thrill when the queer catches me unaware. Oprah, who at first rushed to his defense, will apparently have more to say about Mr. Frey on her show today. Sadly, this is starting to affect other memoirs. Apparently all Augusten Burrough's work will now appear with a disclaimer. Just please don't tell me Augusten's partner isn't as fucking hairy and tight and hot as I've pictured him after reading Magical Thinking.

Son of a Witch
This is the long awaited sequel the Gregory Maguire's Wicked. I read Wicked when it first came out eight or nine years ago and as I've mentioned previously, it spread through my circle of friends like Heppie B. Well, like Heppie B would if my circle of friends were regularly exchanging bodily fluids. Wonderful book and this sequel is just about as good. Now unhindered by the constrictions of adhering to the familiar Oz story and characters from the movie, Maguire takes us on a wild broom ride with Liir, the young and striking spawn of the WWotW. Some of the characters we love are still hanging around. We see the Scarecrow and the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion for a bit. Glinda is in the hizzay, tiaras and upswept 'do in place. Oh and here again, when I least expected it, there may or may not have been a gay twist. Yay! But dudes, you do NOT have to be friend of Dorothy to love this book. Admittedly, it don't hurt. Honestly, I didn't really anticipate this book for 8 years because I didn't smell a sequel. There has to be a trilogy now, though, cuz brotha Gregory left all kinds of loose ends untied. Not Liir's though. His be tight.

What a difference a day makes

The folks over at Too Much Free Time have been kind enough and lacking in judgment to a sufficient degree that they've agreed to let me recap and ramble about the exploits of my favorite badass, Jack Bauer, on the new season of 24. Cool, huh? If you love that show, head over and chime in. It'll be a recap, but we'll probably talk about hot guys and balls and stuff, too.

When you wake up the world may have changed

You knew I was gonna have to post about Brokeback Mountain eventually, right? In deference to those who haven't caught it yet, I'm not going into any spoilery detail. I feel compelled to share my impressions, though, mostly because this movie is haunting me. I've seen it twice. I downloaded the soundtrack. I've lingered at the website, reading the production notes from all the major players. I've read the short story. Everyone knows the story by now-- cowboys in love. You've seen all the spoofs and heard all the jokes. For me, this movie transcends all that. ::cliche alert:: It's a love story for the ages. It's an oft-told tale of star-crossed lovers (Romeo and Romeo, I suppose) with special resonance for anyone who regrets not taking a chance. It's about missed opportunities. It's about the consequence of not being true to yourself. It's about the weight of self-loathing. It's about the toll all this takes on not only you, but the people around you. Sure it's gay cowboys and there's no question that was a big part of the appeal for me. If that's the part keeping you from seeing it, get over it. There's not a lot of man on man action and nothing graphic. If you can't handle seeing men kiss, you'll only have to watch between your fingers for like 30 seconds. Yeah, this is a breakthrough movie for the queer nation, but it's really about love. You know, like the tagline aptly states, love is a force of nature. Heath Ledger and Jake Gylenhaal and Michelle Williams give phenomenal performances. Ang Lee is a genius. There is so much packed into every frame. This film moves slowly/quietly but never lags. The music is perfect. There are quiet, plaintive mostly guitar bits that just rip me apart even now. Listen to 'The Wings' which plays over the final scene for an idea of what I'm talking about. This movie is haunting and fucking beautiful, people. I'd love to hear what y'all thought about it.

Added: I just read that they have taped Brokeback Oprah with both Heath and Jake on the show. If any of you bitches hears when this is airing, gimme the heads up! Also, if you haven't gone to the movie's website, you should check it out for the entries made by folks relating how the movie affected them. Some are incredibly moving. Finally, there's a good interview by one of the producers over at towleroad.

Teach your children well

My little eight y.o. niece (second grade) had her first 'sleepover' last weekend. I was asking her about it over the phone. She had a great time.

ME: Were all your friends there?
SHE: All of them except one girl from the dance team, but I don't think we wanted her there anyway. We think she's gay.
ME: Really? Do you know what that means?
SHE: Not really. Just that she's weird and she might wanna kiss me.

She doesn't know what gay is, but she already thinks it's a bad thing. Per my sister's wishes, she doesn't know her uncle is gay. The uncle she calls a few times a week is gay. The uncle she reads her poems to is gay. The uncle who takes her to the movies is gay. The uncle she tried to trade her sister for so he could be her godfather is gay.

When is a kid old enough to know? Wonder what she'll think about 'gay' by the time she finds out?

PS I'm not judging my sister. Far from it. Just today someone at work tried to fix me up with her daughter and I took her number, so I'm not in a position to judge.

But this time you know I'm the only love for you that's coming through

Janet Parshall, conservative radio talk show host, was on Larry King Live earlier this month during a discussion of the motion picture Brokeback Mountain (sublime, btw. I'm posting about it later even though everything to be said has already been said...don't care....it haunts me....I loved it....). Anyway, here's an excerpt from gaywired.com of what she had to say about gays adopting and gay marriage. There are so many things wrong with practically every word, where do you even start?

Opining on gay marriage, Parshall called it a "pretend family," arguing that "God himself" defined marriage as a union between one man and one woman, and that "everything else is a fraudulent misrepresentation." She then asserted that
allowing a gay couple to adopt constituted "state-sanctioned child abuse because you've purposely taken away either a momma or a daddy, and mom and dad are both necessary in a child's life."

OK, let's play a variant on that game where you have to find all the things wrong in a picture. You know, where the wagon wheel is actually an apple pie? I'll start. Are the gays adopting kids OUT of two parent families or are they trying to provide a home for infants with no parents at all?

link via towleroad

When I kiss your mouth I wanna taste it

Lately, my teeth have tasted salty. Should I be concerned? Is a stroke? A tumor?

What are we waiting for?

Beloved and oft-hyperlinked Andrew tagged me for one of those meme things some time back. I'm finally gonna try to toss it off. You might wanna back up a little.

FOUR JOBS YOU'VE HAD IN YOUR LIFE:
Lifeguard at a municipal swimming pool
All purpose handyman/boy at a funeral home
Assembly line worker at a yogurt plant
Microbiology lab instructor

FOUR MOVIES YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER:
White Christmas
Raising Arizona
Waiting for Guffman
Donnie Darko

FOUR PLACES YOU'VE LIVED:
Dayton
Cincinnati
Detroit
Chicago

FOUR TV SHOWS YOU LOVE TO WATCH:
The Amazing Race
Project Runway
24
House

FOUR PLACES YOU'VE BEEN ON HOLIDAY:
Colorado, Utah, Wyoming and British Columbia for skiing
England
Spain
Italy

FOUR WEBSITES YOU VISIT DAILY:
Freakgirl
Lots of Co.
The Other Andrew
D-Listed

FOUR OF YOUR FAVORITE FOODS:
Honey Crisp apples
French Onion Soup
Rare or raw meat-- a rare salmon steak, sashimi, anagi (OK, that's cooked) or raw kibbee
Gorgonzola cheese or 'Gorgonzal' if you're Whitney (Holla, girl!)

FOUR PLACES YOU'D RATHER BE:
New York
Venice
Sydney
Vancouver/Whistler, BC

FOURPLAY: (feel free to ignore, or maybe respond in my comments if you don't wanna blog it)
J Go
freakgirl
wingedman
Bodhi

Come to my window, crawl inside, wait by the light of the moon

I noticed Brotha Andrew (I know, AGAIN with the Andy, but he's really smurfy) had posted a picture of his work desktop after he'd noticed some other folks, fabulous as he, had done it. I was always up for a rousing game of "I'll Show You Mine If..." as a child, usually going first, and not always being all that invested in whether Carolyn or Regina reciprocated. Tom and Kevin and Jon came later, but by then the game was "Circle Jerk". Where was I? Oh yeah, here's my desktop. Kind of unrevealing, eh? It's my home machine which I only use for music and moseying around the internets. I derive comfort from this bloom, though long since spent, from my springtime garden.

You'd be so nice to come home to, you'd be so nice by the fire

It's not Friday, but who's in the mood for some meat? I'm always up for some, never more so than the last few weeks. OK, the last few months. Fine. Yes. The last six months. There. You happy? I'll just go ahead and say it, guys. Chris Meloni makes me touch my baloney. Vous?

Ring a bell and I'll salivate

He sings, he dances, and he acts. Also, he's a big ol' mo who got married recently according to the fellas over at Queerty. He's John Barrowman and he's the MEAT. Not baring as much flesh as is usually required for this coveted spot, but have I mentioned he's a musical theater star? Check out his eyes, bitches. The only way this guy could be more perfect is if he'd also do some porn (like my perennial and unrivaled fave, Tom Judson).
Well, I'm off for a haircut and some mild shopping and then heading to the Disney. Yeah, I know. It's actually some fun! Honest. I'm still terribly congested and I'm flying in the morning. Anyone have any pharmaceutical suggestions as to what is best to make this travel tenable? Also, while we're talking drugs, if a haircut and some Mickey doesn't cheer me up, whose got the fo fo on the best shit to bring me 'round? I promise to stop whining now (or then, I guess, if it comes to medication).

I'll be your number one with a bullet, a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it

Boy, two whole posts since Christmas. I think we've gone way past the holiday blues. I'm magenta muthafuckas. What's that? Are you seriously gonna try to school me on the fucking color wheel at a time like this? Fucking homos. On top of the mood, and in spite of the infernal neti pot, I got hit with a nasty URTI. Night sweats, copious discharges, the whole gamilla. But like the kids in Crazy For You*, things are looking up for me finally. Tomorrow I head to The Happiest Place On Earth (tm). If Aveda products and Alan with his ass so tight can't make everything OK, what can? I'm aksing. I'm actually heading to the trademarked happiest place on Saturday and to live up to its name, it needs to offer me up a tender piece of manly cast member for my personal consumption. I don't ask for much, Mickey. {{cue Mickey laugh}}

*obligatory reference to musical theater

Give me the taste, give me the joy of summer wine

Well, amidst the tumbleweeds, springs vitality. Meat Friday, y'all. Mr. Diggs (what a name!) has been popping up a lot for me lately, most recently in Rent and then last night on Will and Grace. I gotta say that when he was flirting with Will, I felt weak in the knees and funny in the tummy. Killer looks and a kilowatt smile. Brotha is eff-triple oh-ine. FOOOine.
OK, I'm off to scout out a house that's been on my mind this week. And to get a neti pot. Nasal douching is all the rage, yo.

Is the water warm enough? Yes, Lisa. Shall we begin? Yes, Lisa.

So, where was I? Bit of an unscheduled break there. You knew it had to happen eventually. It's been like six months almost. I finally found a lil' bitch who services my every desire, fast and nasty. Hell, he takes care of needs I wasn't even aware of. So sue me for not hanging around here with youse bitches. I can't believe my luck, but when I'm done with him, he sits unobstrusively in the den, with nary a peep out of him, only the faint glow of his red and green lights let you know he's even around. He's all I've ever dreamed of, and more. That's right, kiddies. Santa brought me TiVo. And TiVo knows me like no one else has before. It was only days into our relationship and he was offering me up a cornucopia of queer on a platter. At some point the bloom may be off the rose, but for now, it's a tight little perfect red bud that makes me ache just thinking about it.

Truth be told, I was AWOL because I'm prone to bouts of mild depression. Have I mentioned that? Nothing clinical mind you, but it's a fairly low swing and I get all hibernate-y like a bear then, for good reason. You don't wanna tangle with me. Now that I'm back up, though, if you're into tall and hairy and being swatted by one of my big paws, then bring it, Boo Boo.