Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Happy Birthday Lewis Black!



This man is pure genius AND a year older today!

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

They call me "Little Miss Sunshine"

If you read this blog regularly, you know they don't call me "Little Miss Sunshine." This blog is full of all my ugliness, but mostly so that the real me maintains a facade of contentment.

I really am a happy guy. You should see me at 6:30 AM on Saturdays at the start of a new scuba class. You can't hide your real feelings at 6:30 AM on Saturdays, therefore, I must really, actually, be a happy fellow. And I have a lot to be happy about.

I live in a really great house near the beach. I have the coolest hobby in the world. My friends kick total ass. Even in his absence, the gentleman friend is a real rock star. (Although he is keeping me on my emmotional toes.) Oh, and my family would totally kick yours to the curb. My neices and nephews are just about the 6 greatest kids in the world -- amazing sicne they are half my brothers'.

A few months ago I wrote about expectations -- family expectations. That post was probably one of the most real I've ever written. But it all came full circle this weekend when I saw Little Miss Sunshine.

If you haven't seen it yet, don't blame me for spoiling it. The trailer doesn't do this film justice. You can't tell from the trailer that this moderately dark comedy is full of the funniest moments I've ever seen in film, all which deliver just about the most beautiful, heartfelt lesson in what really matters in life.

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"Let Olive be Olive."


This little girl has taught me more about life -- in just under 200 minutes -- than the Church, 12 years of public education and 4 years of an EXPENSIVE private university, 13 years working, and countless "friends" have.

In the end, what's really important? I think whatever makes you smile. No matter how small. Is it that revolting video you found on YouTube that inspire a hate-filled phone call from your brother? Is it the total insanity of your co-workers? Is it finally finding that special someone in a weird time and place?

Whatever it is, just let Olive be Olive. Just be.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Can I ask you something?

Do you have periods?

"Does blood from inside your body go outside of your body through a whole between your legs?"

"Here, let me show you, I'm having my period right now."

And seriously, don't watch it for more than 3 minutes if you don't want to get sick.



Sorry. I had to share this.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Pups. Young Little Pups.

Cruising the blogs today there was an interest piece in a journal called "Inside Higher Ed". See, the year is 2006 and the average college freshman is 18 years old. That means the average college freshman was born in 1988!

In case you are wondering what these college freshman have lived, Higher Ed has compiled a list and I've highlighted some of my favorites:

34. They have always known that “In the criminal justice system the people have been represented by two separate yet equally important groups.”

Hard to believe that when I became obsessed with Law & Order one summer it was 8 years ago! And the show had already been on for 8 years! I don't think I've watched an episode of "Ol' Skool Law & Order" in about 5 years.

67. Disposable contact lenses have always been available.

I remember my mom putting in her "hard lenses" and freaking out! Glass on your eye, mom? Come to learn about a year ago that one of my former friends still wears hard lenses! Damn!

69. Oh, The Places You’ll Go by Dr. Seuss has always been the perfect graduation gift.

I got two copies when I graduated from college 6 years ago.

75. Professional athletes have always competed in the Olympics.

My favorite joke when I left the L.A. Gay & Lesbian Center two years ago was that I was ending my career as a professional gay and "going back to amateur status so I can compete at the Olympics." While not really "laugh out loud", or rather LOL, funny, it pains me to know that today's college freshman may not even get the joke.

Finally, I need some help from my Grammar Warrior friends. (Shout out to Ms. Granfors!). Number 39 is listed below but I am concerned that the "Inside Higher Ed" people might need some grammar help:

39. “So” as in “Sooooo New York,” has always been a drawn-out adjective modifying a proper noun, which in turn modifies something else.

If I am describing something as "Soooo New York" then New York is an adejective, making Soooooo an adverb. Right? Or am I wrong here?

Friday, August 18, 2006

UPDATE: Brian's Big Fake Reality

If you remember, practically 6 months ago I had my first foray into reality television. I did this date-set-up-thinggee with one of the trainers on an upcoming Bravo TV show.

Last month the show premiered. I've watched it out of obligation and have actually started to like it. I really, really like Jackie Warner, the "star" of Work Out. Besides the fact that they don't update the episode guide until after the episode premieres and the creepy Jackie-voiceover, I think its a fun show.

A fun show that will not feature Brian. Turns out I got cut from the show. Something about me being hotter, more interesting and charming, and all around a better "character" than the actual people on the show. Or I'm sure that's the way it went down. Mondo Ricko did the prying for me. Thanks Rick!

So, you know what this means. I'm still available. I did that whole game show audition a week ago. What do you say FOX? Get me while I'm hot and single...

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NOTE: I'm too lazy today to find a new picture and upload it to photobucket, so I figured I'd reuse this one!

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Appropriate Word Choice?

I was driving in to work today listening to "Day to Day" on NPR. The show started off the hour with host Alex Chadwick speaking with Charlie Brennan, of the Rocky Mountain News, about the sudden confession of John Mark Karr in the mysterious murder of 6 year-old beauty queen Jon Benet Ramsey.

During the course of their conversation, the issue of DNA evidence came up. With today's analysis of the "confession" possibly being a hoax, it's very likely that the DNA evidence will be critical in confirming the role John Mark Karr may have played in her murder.

According to Mr. Brennan, where would you find this DNA evidence? On young Miss Ramsey's "panties." (At about 4:15 into the story, Mr. Brennan makes the poor word choice.)

You know what Mr. Brennan, you could have chosen A LOT of words to describe the location of potential DNA evidence:
  • clothing
  • underwear
  • undergarments
  • sleepwear
Your choice of "panties" -- especially since the murder victim is a 6 year-old girl -- is a little salacious and definately inappropriate! Why must our media be so sleazy?

Monday, August 14, 2006

A Leafy Time

Photobucket - Video and Image HostingI get word that the gentleman friend has lost more than 10 pounds of fat and is bulking up in the 24-hour on-board gym. I hit crisis mode. I have 6 weeks to shape up. Last week I did a number of lonely trips to the gym. Now, what about that diet.

I don't believe in "dieting," but learned in my massive weight loss of 2005 to pay close attention to my "diet." That's what I need to do.

Saturday morning I rolled out of bed and hit the pool for scuba class. Teaching scuba is a pretty good work out. Typically, I'm starving by the time I hit the classroom portion. This Saturday, I decided to teach straight through. I wrapped up about 3:00 and need nosh real bad like. Panda Express? In-N-Out?

Gentleman friend's new lean exterior and posterior quickly came to mind. Crap. Something healthy.

For months I've driven past this place, Leaf Cuisine, on Washington Boulevard. They feature, get this, Organic Kosher Vegan Raw Food. This means everything is served is grown naturally, supervised by hippie Jews who haven't learned about fire yet. Sounds like a treat.

Photobucket - Video and Image HostingI had the Bedouin Burrito. Thank god for Star Wars, other wise I would have ordered a "Bed-doon" Burrito rather than the "Bed-oo-win" Burrito that I really wanted. It was some yummy hummusy like substance with some bean, sprouts and tomatoes rolled in big leafy collard greens.

It was good.

No, Amy, seriously, good.

Except for the crowd. How many deordorant-fearful, bra-less hippie chicks can you cram into a Culver City restaurant? Apparently, like 15.

They were the "faux hippie" type of braless though. You know, the ones that live in Silverlake because its cool and "work" in graphic design. Not the trailer trash Whiskey Tango Braless that was once the queen of pop.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Zuma Dogg!

There is little doubt that I love politics. There is also little doubt that I HATE Los Angeles politicians. I have little respect for most of them. The majority of them are either life-long staffers who inherited their seats, former union organizers who have decided there's more money in elected politics, or overly ambitious street thugs who will do whatever it takes for that next office.

It's fun to watch this video of some guy -- Zuma Dogg -- that I know little about. What's fun about it? You get to watch intellectual lightweight Tom LaBonge get bitch slapped by Eric Garcetti and the City Attorney's representative.

Why Madonna?

Because of this. I stumbled on the old Lucky Star video on You Tube. What a fun song!

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Change - UPDATED

Today, while avoiding work -- which is easier today with bosslady having fled the country for 2 1/2 weeks -- I stumbled across this video:



I don't know if it's a new concept, but I like. The woman took her photo every day for more than 3 years.

What speaks to me is how there is a lot of change, but a lot of consistency. No matter what she goes through, the core of herself is the same. The hair may be longer, the glasses different but it's the same woman. A little parable for us all.

Screw Jesus, we go You Tube!

UPDATE: Apparently, my Asian lady friend (ALF), while more attractive than Noah, is a thief. My friend Ben posted Noah's film on MySpace -- Noad did 6 years versus 3 years for ALF.

I wanted to send Ben a link to ALF's video, but it was pulled off YouTube -- for copyright violations. Smack! So, want you to still get the point, here is the same video with a slightly uglier, most likely Jewish boy instead of my harmless Asian lady friend who is prone to thievery.

National Underwear Day UPDATE

I just got word that apparently women wear underwear, too. Who would've known? So, to all the ladies and friends of ladies out there, Happy National Underwear Day to you, too!

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Our Most Loyal Friend

In case the National Underwear Day post got you too excited, this horse-bitch is likely to cool down the fire below.

This is some great footage from the CBC. Unlike here in America, Canadian journalists aren't afraid to call an vile, horse-face lying bitch a liar. (I'm sure they'll call her a vile, horse-faced bitchy liar, but not on the telly, because frankly they are Canadians and they have some decency.)



I really think this nutcase is the best friend of liberals. How can you not hate her and side with us?

National Underwear Day

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I was debating whether or not to do a post about this today. It's seems a little scandalous for my friendly little blog, but since the politics have been light recently, I might as well go with some flesh.

Also, I'm a little giddy over the spanking handed to Joe Lieberman yesterday. I wish the little twit would just slink away and cry, but it'll be fun to beat him twice.

Finally, apparently there are some who seem to think my blog reaks of the stench of depression lately. Clearly the sis-in-law didn't read this before ratting me out to mom. If near-nakedness in man-panties says anything, it's not depression.

According to Freshpair today is National Underwear Day. Clearly one of your more important national holiday. I can't quite figure out how I'm supposed to celebrate but I figured these pictures were a nice start.

Ironically, I was paying much closer attention to my own underwear today. When getting dressed I noticed that I appeared to be out of boxer briefs again. I swear I used to be able to go three weeks without running out. These days, I can barely can go a week. I'm too busy to do laundry all that often, but fortunately I've lost some weight these days and some briefs I've had are a little more comfortable than they used to be. Really, though, I need some new underwear. Maybe I'll check out Freshpair.

On another tangent, word from the gentleman friend is that he's slimming down and toning up on his adventure, putting pressure on me to finally do something about the flab. Damn, this going to the gym and actually working out thing sucks!

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PS: This last photo, it's funny, right? You're laughing, too?

Monday, August 07, 2006

No Rain on My Parade

(Some photos. Click for larger versions. Especially the Black Pearl... read on...)

Do you ever have one of those days that just keeps getting better and better? That was my Sunday.

I was teaching a class of 8 on a smaller dive boat out of San Pedro. I got up early and was at the boat by 6:00 AM. How would the day go? How would the students do? I knew they were good, and had caught on well in the 2 weekends I worked with them, but there's always the nagging anxiety.

Photobucket - Video and Image HostingI probably could have fortold how the day would go by the first thing we saw leaving the harbor. It seems they were doing some filming recently and left a prop floating next to the dock. We got to see the Black Pearlfrom one of my current favorite movies up close. Pirates 2 really helped make me happy last month. The power of the Black Pearl is just as enchanting. This was super cool! And a good omen if there ever was one.

The diving was great. The water was a warm 72 - 74 degrees. The visibility was about 30 to 45 feet at all the dive sites. And my students were amazing! All three dives went off without a hitch. I even got in a very relaxing 51 minute dive at the end of the day. I wish every class was like these guys! (Well, guys and girls because it was 5 women and 3 men. It's a rarity that women outnumber the men. Maybe that's a good sign, too!)

Photobucket - Video and Image HostingThe boat ride back was a lot of fun. We did the requisite paperwork, had a little graduation ceremony and cracked open the beer! I love when we carpool and I don't have to drive home! Diving is such an amazing sport because you get to meet people that you would never encounter on a regular basis. Including one with intimate access to MySpace. My own personal "Tom." The students were super generous with tipping the crew and their instructor, which is very rare (but always appreciated). Good dive kharma is always a sound investment! (EDITOR'S NOTE: Yes, Brian is looking much hotter these days. A work in progress. A healthy distraction.)

The drive home was a little rough. Roomie was sad and so we talked and shared. I think it was good. I had a couple calls come in but like most dive days my mobile's battery was dying so I opted to let them slip into voicemail land. At 7:29 PM I got a call from 786-976-0002 that I really should have taken. Oops.

It's been 39 days since I last saw the gentleman friend. (38 days since I last heard his voice.) We've communicated through the most impersonal of communications, email, regularly since he left but email is hard. How do you communicate emotion in an emotionless medium? Getting through the next 144 days is gonna suck!

But what worse is, how do I know that he feels the same way? His emails are always sweet and fun. I can see his beautiful smile as he types them. I can hear his new friends -- I know he has plenty because who wouldn't want to be around him -- egging him on to hurry up and get to the lounge. I want him to be happy, but I want to know that I play a role in that new happiness. Somewhere, I'm there, in the back of his head.

Of course, my friends have told me I'm an idiot. Of course he's thinking of me. Of course he misses me. It so obvious. But what kind of fag would I be if I wasn't horribly insecure?

Thus the phone call at 7:29 that I should have taken. Roomie and I hopped back into her truck and headed home. "Oh. Voicemail. Where is area code 786?" (Did it ever dawn on you that techonology, with its mobile phones and caller ID, is making us freakishly impatient? Why couldn't I just wait for the message?)

The phone number was probably a pay phone. It was the gentleman friend -- not sounding too happy. Shit. Fuck. The call. Met someone great. Really happy. Hope you are too. Bye.

Ah! But you remember, this post is about the perfect day. So you know where I'm going with this one.

He misses me. Really. Okay, so those in the know have been saying it for 39 days. But the first time I heard his voice in that long, it was to reach out to me. I don't want him to be sad. That hurt -- and honestly, made roomie and I cry a little -- but the emotion was strangely refreshing and real. It was nice to have emotion again. The sterile environs of email has been shattered. 144 days. I can get through it.

Especially since I am going to bankrupt myself this month on a trip to Seattle to spend 3 hours with him. Emotions are expensive!

And I think this photo best sums up how great a "scuba day" can be and my overall sense of contentment.
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(That's not me by the way. One of the super students passed out with beer in hand. That's a good scuba day!)

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Marriage Day

Before I begin, please watch this video. I think it's really important.



Today's is my parents' 36th wedding anniversary. On this day, 36 years ago, two relatively devout Catholic officially began practicing for an important feat, which would culminate around New Years in 1978.

I am proud of my parents. Watching them for nearly three decades, I've seen first hand that marriage isn't alway easy. Occasionally you get sick of each other. Occasionally your sons put a massive whole in the wall the day the house goes on the market. Occasionally your youngest son is a homosexual. Did I mention that my brothers basically broke the house?

Maybe one day I can try to live up to the beautiful model my parents created for me. I hope that I will one day be as good as husband as my father has been. One day, maybe I'll be able to as supportive of a spouse -- although admittedly less naggy -- as my mother.

I promise to work hard on my end to find the right guy. What I need from you dear reader, is to make sure the government doesn't fuck it up for me. Now I know not all of you are the most liberal people on the block. (Well, okay Shelley, I've seen your block. You probably are the most liberal there.) But think about all this crap about same-sex marriage and think of how stupid it is that this is even an issue. Constituional bans. Defense of Marriage Acts. STUPID!

You know why it's stupid. This is why. When I called my folks to wish them a happy 36th, I couldn't speak with my mom. She was out buying a baby gift for a family friend. A year ago, this friend had left her husband, a raging conservative from a "good Chrisitian" home. It seems that he was a little abusive with her and had a drug problem -- hooked on Hillbilly Heroin after an injury. I got to hear all about how difficult this was for her. Especially since it was her second husband. A year later, she's spawning again with the same husband.

If she can make decisions this stupid, I should be able to as well, right?