Meet Gabrielle Reilly

I had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Reilly today. I was on the website for Republican congressional candidate Howard Kaloogian, when I spoted this endorsement on his site:

Gabrielle Reilly, Columnist
International Political Activist & Swimsuit Model

I had to follow the accompanying link and learn more about Ms. Reilly. From her own web site I learned:

"Gabrielle is a Australian/American swimsuit model, political commentator and international celebrity." Mel Gibson, vegamite sandwiches and now Gabrielle Reilly. Screw you, Australia!

"She works as an international diplomat bringing understanding between countries, political parties, governments and the people." No shit! Thank god we have Gabrielle to keep open those delicate backchannels with Australia! Remember the Australian Missle Crisis, when they aimed their nukes right for Seattle? It was Gabrielle who eased tensions and saved Starbucks.

"Gabrielle is interviewed via phone and email by leading newspapers and radiostations throughout the world to explain US policy and ideals to the international pop culture and mainstream." I definately want the world turning to Gabrielle. All those ugly university professor, elected officials, and state department employees hardly show any boobs when explaining our imperialist interest in sub-saharan Africa.

"As a swimsuit model she is greeted in market segments that most Statesmen would not be greeted, giving her the opportunity to address politically sensitive issues in typically hard to penetrate demographics throughout the world." What kind of places might those be? Nudes, Nudes, Nudes down near the airport? And did someone really suggest that she can "penetrate" anything? Horrible choice of words!

Gabby got to interview Howard Kaloogian and she had some wonderful insights. The interview is a great read with lots of hard hitting questions. At the end of it, she shows her boobs. (I'm assuming. I figure she can't go anywhere without showing them off, so she must have given Kaloogian a peek!)

A Missed Opportunity -or- Who will lead the charge?

This weekend we saw the largest demonstrations in Los Angeles history. Probably between 500,000 and 1,000,000 people to the streets of downtown Los Angeles in protest over a bill in Washington which would make felons out of the 11 million undocumented immigrants in this country, as well as the millions of people who work with these immigants to ameliorate the conditions imposed by poverty.

The first shot in this campaign might have been fired by Cardinal Roger Mahony of the Los Angeles Archdiocese, the largest diocese of Roman Catholics in the country (more than 3 million) and likely the home to large undocumented Catholic population as well. Cardinal Mahony opposes the legislation because it restricts people from providing services to undocumented immigrants. He assert that a strict reading of the legislation could make him a felon, simply because he provides the sacraments to thousands of undocumented immigrants every week. Not to mention the millions of dollars the church spends locally on services for the poor, the sick, and the homeless. And then there's the Catholic schools.

What is interesting is that we could be at the start of a critical movement. If 1,000,000 Angelenos can rise up against this legislation, what can happen if we organize and mobilize this force. They'd be unstoppable.

The movement is missing a leader. Saturday's protest was disorganized in the traditional sense. For example, the original permit filed with the city estimated that there would be 7,000 protestors -- only to be amended and increased to 30,000 a few days before the event. When 500,000 + showed up, no one was expecting it.

I was chatting with Damian about this. Who could lead this movement? The next Martin Luther King? The next Che and Fidel? (Okay, a bad example.) The next Lech Walasea? (Damian came up with that one.) Movements fail without leaders. Look at the Civil Rights Movement post MLK. Who do we turn to today? Jesse Jackson? Al Sharpton?

Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa would be a natural choice, but his own personal political ambitions would surely get in the way. He'd rather be Governor of California, running a failed system of ineffective legislators and unbalancable budget then a permanent movement that would reshape and relaign the country and progressive politics.

In this battle, at this time, another obvious choice would be Cardinal Mahony. Unfortunately -- on so many levels -- the credibility of the Catholic Church is spread unbearably thin because of the sex abuse scandal. Perhaps one of the greatest victims of the tainted image of the Princes of the Church in 2006 is that they have been rendered useless because of their own failings. At a time when Cardinal Mahony could speak up and represent millions of immigrants and call for moral and just reforms, he is gagged by his own missteps and the heinous nature of the Church's crimes.

And so the search continues. Hopefully someone will come forward besides International ANSWER and their band of communists.

As Hip as I Wanna Be

Do you ever have one of those moments when you realize how old you are? Yesterday, when I was sitting at home sick, I was watching Real World. It occured to me that I am too old to be on the Real World. I was 13 years old when I first became obsessed with the show. Now, 14 years later, I'm too old to be on it.

I had another one of these moments this moring. I was listening to Kevin & Bean on the drive in this morning. Ralph was doing his Showbiz Report which he wraps up with celebrity birthdays -- perhaps the stupidest of all news! He announced the Fergie was 31 years old.

How in God's holy name can Fergie be only 31 years old? I think I was like 10 when Fergie gave birth to Beatrice... which I remember because Beatrice is/was also the name to a food company that ran a commericial right after the news report of Fergie giving birth. My head is full of weird crap.

After announcing Fergie's birthday, they played a moment with Lisa. The lovely Lisa May sharing poetry, a spoken-word reading of the Black-Eyed Peas, "My Humps."

It wasn't for another 30 seconds before I realized that it wasn't Fergie, Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York who is getting older -- in fact she's already quite old, she's 45 -- but rather the dumb blonde from the Black-Eyed Peas, who apparently, we are all supposed to hate.

Brian, 1; Crazy Nut Jobs, 0

No, Damian, you didn't win your war on ID fat photos. I'm not giving up the porker pictures. I just had a great victory today... and when you Google "Fat, victory" that's what you get.

You've may have heard that I don't necessarily love my co-workers.

See:
Fat Girls and Hats
Today's "What the F#%$?" Moment Brought to You By:
Looking to score some pot... luck!
Being a Jack Ass is Hard Work
Entitle-whosit
Christmas Comes But Once a Year...

Rest assured, there is no love lost on me either. These people hate me.

This week, they -- the Evil Empire led by the Pity Queen, our accident girl -- sent one of the unpaid interns around to collect money for Boss Lady's birthday present.

a) I don't believe in office collections. If the company can't pay for it then it shouldn't be done. It's not fair to ask employees -- especially our underpaid staff -- to chip in for things.
b) Everyone at work gets a present, a $25 gift card to Borders. It might be silly, but it's fair.
c) The boss, the one making the most, deserves the least! Remember, I'm a Democrat. Don't tax the poor to provide for the rich.

Clearly, the Pity Queen started this just to kiss up to Boss Lady. It's so much easier to kiss up rather than just do your job, right?

I refused to participate, which was a little awkward for the intern who was used to everyone just throwing in $10 whenever she came around. I gave up the collections a year ago when we collected $150 for the daughter of our accountant who had a baby. We gave this woman who most of us had never met who happened to be related to one of our vendors $150 in cash! I don't think so. I barely like to encourage those I know who spawn, why would I payoff a stranger?

Well, there's been a great victory. I led an uprising and about 3 other people refused to participate. Today, Pity Queen went around refunding everyone else's contribution because not enough people participated.

Hopefully, the collections have ended and I can focus my energy on killing the pot luck.

Super Gay!

Sorry for the blog being pretty gay these days. Sometimes it happens. Like premature ejaculation. Except the Blog is a lot easier to clean up.

So let's talk about something that's not so gay.

I'm thinking of going to the gym tonight... oops, pretty gay.

I was late to work twice this week. Not leaving the house until almost 10:00 AM allowed me to rediscover the Golden Gir... oops, pretty gay. Sorry.

I went out for sushi with one of the roomies last night. That should be a safe topic, I'm not a lesbian after all. We wanted something light for dinner so sushi seemed like a nice idea. We were greeted by a 3,000 woman in the lobby. Nothing kills an appetitie like 3,000 lbs of lady lovin'.

Just because I'm butching this post up, did you think I'd turn my back on the fatties?

Short story long, the sushi was good. I got the Philadelphia roll, which isn't light at all. And the fishy adventure was over.

Fred Phelps: Bigot, of the Ambulance Chasing Variety

I just read this over at AmericaBlog, which I think is taking it from ProgressNow:

Fred Phelps, in case you didn't know, is the religious extremist version of the professional accident victim. He and his children and their demon spawn make a living off of the first amendment lawsuits they file when police departments, city councils, and legislatures cross the line of restricting Phelps's free speech rights. The Phelps klan drive around the country staging "protests" at the funerals of gay people, in front of state houses and city buildings, and, more recently, the funerals of soldiers.

This is very interesting. I'd never heard this side of the Westboro Baptist Church story. I did know that Phelps was an attorney -- a civil rights attorney at that. He has since been disbarred but in the 60s and 70s he made quite a name for himself filing suits on behalf of black Kansans.

I also knew that his entire family were lawyers. I did not know that they supported themselves this way. It'd be interesting to see how much they've won in these suits. It'd also be interesting to find out if the whole "God Hates Fags" thing is just a media ruse designed for them to be able to sue and make $$$.

Very interesting.

Fat Girls and Hats

Fat girls shouldn't wear hats. Period. I know they aren't likely to take my advice, but they should. Really, fat girls shouldn't go out in public. But if they do it should be sans champeau.

One of the ladies I work with -- the president of the Let's Hate Adorable Brian club -- is wearing a golfish-style hat. On top of her chubby little head which is poised above her perfectly FAT body. In heels. Maybe the hat is really a helmet. If she were to fall in her heels, the inevitable inertia created by her massive size could violently throw her head into the ground. That's it. It's a helmet.

Still looks dumb.

Red Meat Shuffle

You may have been -- but probably weren't -- as shocked as I was that I could eat red meat last Friday. This was important for me because I was having a little party and making that famous Fox family tradition, corned beef and cabbage. (In case you are wondering who the hell the Fox family is, that's my mom's side of the family. The side with all the drunks. Well, not all the drunks. Just most of the drunks. Although the Davis' are trying hard to keep up.)

Cardinal Roger Mahony, or rather Roger Cardinal Mahony because that's the stupidest title in the world, the Archbishop of Los Angeles granted a dispensation from the Lenten rules of observance. Catholics could eat meat on Friday. Why? Because they were likely to be drunk and served corned beef and since St. Patrick's Day fell on a Friday during Lent, it would make confessions on Saturday that much easier.

Now this is just stupid. What's the point of having rules if you ignore them for such stupid reasons. It's not like our dietary rules are that strict any way. Catholic fasting: two small meals and a sensible dinner with no snacks! Muslims go a whole month without eating in the sunlight and Catholic can barely manage to skip snacks!

I decided that maybe a lot of this Catholic thing is just bullshit. A bunch of made up crap designed to control people. I know what you are thinking, "duh!" How is it that I've gone this long without figuring this out? I need some help here. I'll call my mom. She's a good Catholic, right? She'll fight for one of His flock, right? Nope.

No unending pressure from her. No relentless badgering. I question 2,000 years of faith and religion and mom says, "you're probably right!"

Oh Diane Sawyer, Why Do You Hate Me!

I watch Good Morning America for two reasons:

1) The total and complete lack of Matt Lauer. I loathe this man!
2) The presence of the former America's Junior Miss, the Lady Diane (Sawyer)!

I love Diane Sawyer. I've spent years getting over the fact that she's probably a Republican and definately worked in the Nixon White House. She married a good liberal Hollywood Director, so I know she has a little Democrat in her every now and then!

But today, she earned my wrath. The good folks at GMA reported on a story that came up in the newspapers a few weeks ago: the protests of American GI's funerals by the Westboro Baptist Church.

What GMA's coverage failed to present was that while the families of American soldiers killed in war have been subjected to "Rev." Phelps protests for a few months now, the families of gay men killed in violent crimes or by AIDS have had to endure these assaults for years!

Westboro "parishoners" -- of www.godhatesfags.com fame -- have tortured hundreds of grieving moms like the one in today's story, except no one in this country cared because these were the mom's of gay sons.

GMA producers celebrate the Patriot Guard, an honorable band of bikers and/or Vets who are showing up at these funerals to shield the grieving families with a wall of American flags. This technique might seem familiar, it was employed by the friends of Mathew Shepard at his funeral. They donned giant angels' wings to block the protesters from the media and the family. Of course, no mention of this was made in the story.

Now that soldiers are involved, and not just those pesky homosexuals, several states have worked to block all such protests. A Republican congressman has introduced federal legislation making these demonstrations illegal -- which I imagine will probably fail the 1st Amendment test. Where was the outrage when these protests started years ago?

I must add, that my dear Diane did not report this story. It was presented by Robin Roberts -- which is weird because it wasn't about black people or sports. Typically, Robin only gets to report those stories.

I am holding Diane accountable because she let this sloppy reporting get on her show. Shame on you, Diane.

Momma's Boys

I probably shouldn't put up another Brokeback Mountain post, but I read something today that made me think of Jack Twist's mom. I've blogged about my folks' own reaction to the film -- they loved it -- and how it made me feel. All of this talk about parents makes me realize that when I talk about BBM, I talk about the Jack/Ennis relationship and the Husband/Wives relationship, and the Gays/Society relationship, but I haven't really touched on what means the most to me.

Not really being the marrying type, at least not yet, the love-interest stories are interesting to me but not wholly relatable. However, the exchange between Ennis and Jack's parents near the end of the film is something I can appreciate. (Haven't seen the film yet, have you homophobe? Get to it already!)

While my father ain't Jack's unemmotional pentecostal grump, I can appreciate Jack's mom, played wonderfully by Roberta Maxwell. What I appreciate most is how much she truly loved her son. It's clear they knew he was gay. It's clear that it's not what they wanted for him. But it's just as clear that it doesn't get in the way of a mother's love.

Everyone talks about BBM for the way it successfully portrays the burden of the closet on a gay man, his sham marriage, his wife and kids. What I don't hear a lot about his how the conflict of a parent's love and their own homophobia destroys them. Mrs. Twist was a devout Christian who was taught to believe that homosexuals were deviants, perverts, sinners against God. But she knew that her son -- a man she birthed, raised and loved -- could be none of those things. How did this homophobia interfere in her relationship with him? After he was taken from her prematurely, she longed for any connection to him.

Maybe this is one of the most poignant elements of the story. I love you Mom and Dad!

NOTE: If you like her performance, you might want to know a little more about Roberta Maxwell. She's quite the accomplished actor, and boy does she love the gays. She's appeared in: Brokeback Mountain, Queer as Folk, What Makes a Family, and Philadelphia.

If this is wrong...

Than I don't want to be right.

Okay, I doubt Failure to Launch really deserves to make any money. And Matthew McConaughey probably plays the sappiest, lamest roles in Hollywood. But as long as he ends up naked, where's the crime in that?

My friends, whom I have never actually met and are thus similar to most of my "friends", at Pen15 Club have gone on the attack. I feel I must defend Matty's virtue only because I once had this really vivid dream in which I took most of Matty's virtue and spilled it all over my chest, the bed, and a little on the floor. Don't get Matty's virtue in the carpet. It gets all stiff and smells on a hot day.

Florida Senator Bill Nelson is the Luckiest Man in the World

Bill Nelson is a Democrat in a red state. One of the last Southern Democrats holding a Senate seat. Unfortunately for him, he's up for re-election. Fortunately for him his only Republican challenger is a nut: Miss Katherine Harris!

No Republican wants Harris in this race. She's crazy! Democrats and Independents hate her! Many Republicans acknowledge that she's a joke.

Her campaign is in trouble because she can't raise any money. And she's nuts. Yesterday, she announced that she was going to make a BIG announcement on Hannity & Colmes. And boy, did she!

Click here to watch video (courtesy of CrooksandLiars.com) of her BIG announcement. She's in this race. And -- dramatic pause -- she's -- dramatic pause -- in it -- dramatic pause -- to win.

What can she do about her abysmal fundraising? She can try to buy her seat with her family fortune! She's going to put in 10 million of her own dollars to compete with the $10 million + that Senator Nelson has raised from thousands of supporters. Seems logical.

Oh, and why is she in this race? Because of the rampant corruption thoroughout Washington. She's a reformer you know. Just ask Tom Delay, Duke Cunningham, Bill Frist, senior Bush aide Claude Allen... should I go on? Oh, there's her own scandal. Seems she took over $50,000 in illegal campaign contributions from Duke Cunningham's benefactor.

And for my seedier readers, have you seen her boob job? (Fun office-time game: Do a Google Image search of Katherine Harris. There is no way to tell me that she's not despised in this country.)

Need Food. Won't Work For It!

I love getting resumes and job inquiries at work. When I was at Paramount, I got to go through intern resumes with boss man. I always wanted to edit the resumes and send them back.

Last year I went to a career fair at UCLA Law School for students interested in Public Interest Work. I saw some great resumes of law students, with typos, made up words and giant holes in their timelines. One guy had about 8 years missing from his life. Another woman, applying for work with social justice organizations, touted her volunteer work with Bush-Cheney 2004, the Arizona Republican Party, and Right to Life. She wasn't really gonna fit in with the socialists I work with.

Today I got this gem:

I'm a political science student with a concentration in American politics. I aspire to become a lawyer in the future and will be preparing to take the LSAT on June 12. I do not have a resume readily available, but I am in the process of preparing one. I will be able to produce one and get it emailed over to you during spring break, March 24-April 2. I apologize for the late response. This is the last week of school before finals and things always get pretty hectic. Although I would like to participate in an internship that would coincide with my future goals, my main concern is assisting the less fortunate. I look forward to contributing to the innercity law organization and helping to make a difference in local communiities.

It took him more than a week to write back and tell me I'd have to wait another week for something he should have had ready before emailing in the first place.

Oh, and if he thinks things are hectic as a student, wait until he has a real job. Not that mine is hectic, but I hear sometimes other people's are.

OldSpace: A Place to Gross Brian Out

MySpace is a frustrating phenomenon. For the voyeur's out there like me, it's a hoot. I get to pry into the lives of total strangers and remind myself how much better of a person I am than they are. At the same time, I become frustrated with how horrible of a world really is.

I submit the following examples of how MySpace -- and not gay marriage, thank you very much -- is destroying society.

Exhibit A: Posting nude or near nude photos of oneself online. Leave it to the professionals people. You will, one day, regret showing your nipple ring or tighty-whitie-covered package to the likes of pedophiles, bored secretaries, your boss's teenage daughter, and your Catholic priest (one of these things is a lot like the other).

Exhibit B: My favorite part is clearly the photos. I love seeing where people have been and what they've done while there and what they thought was derserving of the Interwebs. But, when you travel the world, and decide the only thing worth posing on your profile is your picture in some tragic old world gay disco, you needn't label it, "Me. Milan 2005" Save the super-cool locations for when you are doing something unique to that region. You can go to a gay bar in Riverside. I wouldn't, but theoretically, you could.

Exhibit C: I feel a little old using MySpace. I am 27 after all. I know, I know, I barely look a day over 23. But if I am too old at 27, this guy is clearly too old at 63. And he's way to old to use a MySpace name such as "liketokiss." And he's way too old to have the friends that he has. Seriously, check them out.

People, he's wearing sunglasses on a string! If you wear sunglasses on a string, you should not, I repeat, should not have a MySpace profile. Unless you are a Catholic priest. (Is that really my second priestly pedophile reference in one post?) In a 250 mile radius of my house, I found 88 men between the ages of 60 and 65 on OldSpace. (I had to stop at 65 because I am sure there are tons of "fakes" saying they are 69, thus screwing with the scientific nature of my research.)

This is my thesis: We are nasty, nasty people. God was probably on the right track with that whole flood thing. But MySpace isn't the actual problem -- like gay marriage -- but rather, it's a reflection of what a horrible, vapid, and senseless people we are!

If 63 year-old "likestokiss" can get a bunch of nakedy ladies to call him a "friend" then maybe there's no point to save society. What do you think?

What did you do today?

I'm 27 years old. I've wasted nearly every day recently trying to figure out what I want out of life. My job bores the shit out of me. I have litte confidence in the work we do. I am barely proud of it.

And then I read crap like this. Did you know that the woman who argue Roe v. Wade before the United States Supreme Court was only 27 years old? Do you know how she ended up with the case? She was a woman lawyer in Texas in the late 60s. No firm would hire her. So she went to work doing some work with the poor and disadvantaged. When Norma McCorvey (more popularly known as Jane Roe) was prosecuted criminally for seeking an abortion, Sarah took on her case against all odds.

She challenged the Dallas DA, Henry Wade. She fought and fought and took the case all the way to the US Supreme Court. And she won. She was the first person to ever beat Henry Wade in court. She was the youngest lawyer ever to win a case before the Supreme Court. And, boy, look at the case she won! Probably the most famous Supreme Court case of the modern era, if not ever.

And she was 27. And no one would hire her. I guess there's hope for me.

Oh, and what happened to McCorvey? The bitch stabbed Sarah in the back and is now a crusader against abortion! Never trust a Texan.

Politics Sucks Says Gov. McGreevey!

I don't blog nearly as much about politics as I think people would expect me to. I still care about a lot of things, but have been so turned off by how ugly politics in Los Angeles has gotten. I blame people like Gray Davis. He ran some of the ugliest campaigns in history and these campaigns set the tone for some many of the political geeks junkies running around seconding motions and calling for points of order at club meetings.

I supported Antonio Villaraigosa last year simply because 4 years earlies, Mayor Hahn ran an ugly campaign in which he insulted progressive Democrats. I can support people who may fall on the wrong side of the issues almost entirely because they are good people. Fortunately, there are so few good people in politics, I rarely have to make that choice.

My friend Damian is the president of the San Fernando Valley Young Democrats. He's one of the most stand-up people you'll ever meet. Nice as can be. And funny as shit. Not that shit is all that funny, but sometimes, if you are really drunk or stoned, you might fight one of shit's jokes pretty funny. Unfortunately, he typically resorts to the kind potty-humor you enjoyed in 3rd grade. But I digress.

Damian's club -- not his fan club of which by the nature of this post it would seem I was the president, but SFVYD -- endorsed this lady running for Senate in the Valley. She's running in the primary against this guy. (Do the names really matter? I don't think so.) It just so happens, the guy was kind of one of the founders of SFVYD. Some folks in the geek... I mean political... media seem to like the negative spin of the guy not even being endorsed by a club he founded. It's ironic, but really, it's not a slight. It's not like his time in office was spent spurning a club that hates him so much now that they'd endorse Angelyne over him. It's just that in a race with two decent, progressive Democrats running, SFVYD felt the chick was the better candidate. It's not that's he'd bad, just that she's better.

But that's not acceptable in California politics. So this nasty piece runs in the news. And Damian, being the stand up guy he is responds. And now he's being attacked in the "blogosphere" -- first time using that word, hopefully the last -- as if he were the spawn of satan. Which he insists he's not. Though, let's be honest, who names their kid "Damian" after the movie The Omen came out? Hmm... (in best Churchlady voice, now) ...Satan?

I feel bad. Damian's a rock star. So is the endorsed candidate. And California politics sucks. And in case you don't read the news enough to decipher the headline, it doesn't suck in the good way. You know, like a blow job.

The Homo-less

I got picked up for lunch today, twice! Once when my friend Chris came by work so we could devour some Subway Jared-style. Again, by a homeless person as we walked from his car. I think the homeless guy was looking for some ass.

Have you ever been outed by a homeless person? It's surreal. You immediately ask yourself, "How gay am I today?" I actually think quite gay. I even thought it when I got in Chris' car. We were both wearing nice, moderately tight sweaters. We had our gay hair in full glory. I even was wearing my moderately oversized sunglasses. The thought, later to be confirmed by the bum, was, "Wow, we look a little gay today."

Frederikk (the very gay name I'm giving him) approached us on the sidewalk. Expecting the usual "Spare change?," I was amused when he offered us a quick tour of Skid Row. A tour given to his "Favorite men in Little Tokyo." That's what he called us.

No worries, boys. Frederikk is "very gay friendly, because I'm gay myself." I'm willing to say that's as gay friendly as I ever want to get with a homeless man.

He offered a serenade of Mavin Gaye, Judy Garland, etc. etc. We very politely, and gayly, declined, gave him some change and went in for a sandwich.

NOTE: If you are wondering about the picture, try to figure it out. I searched for a photo of a easily identified gay homeless person. No luck on Google. Deciding to stick with my theme, I tried "fat homeless" and came up with this. It's a photo of "Fat Man," the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima ending the war with Japan.

Today's "What the F#%$?" Moment Brought to You By:

The Spork!

I like to accuse my boss of being an out-of-touch, Westside liberal. I think she'd embrace it. As a matter of fact, last week I referred to Sandra Tsing Loh, my least favorite public radio personality, as "the typical Westside liberal mom-as-career**". Boss lady quickly chimed in with, "She's from the Valley." Note the disdain? There is nothing the Westside liberal hates more than the Valley liberal.

Boss lady brings in leftovers from parties -- parties she'd never invite the staff to -- and offers it up to the starving, huddled masses of the office. And in her emails announcing her great contribution of 2 day-old sandwiches with wilted lettus and stale cookies, she has to throw in, "help yourself to leftovers from my catered party the other night." As a friend noted once, "Thank god. I only eat nasty leftovers from a catered event."

Today, she walked into my office, eating utensil in hand and looked confused. Holding the molded form of plastic to the light she asked, "What is this?"

It's a spork you elitist idiot. In her 50+ years on the planet she's never seen a spork... until today. Clearly she's never ordered Kentucky Fried Chicken. She -- or her spawn -- has never eaten in a school cafeteria. (Spawn goes to a $20,000/year ELEMENTARY SCHOOL!) She's never been to a picnic that wasn't catered by Wolfgang Puck. Her only outdoor dining experiences are likley limited to a box at the Hollywood Bowl or on the sand at Shutters in Santa Monica.

How can you not know what a spork is? When I told her, she still didn't believe me. I went online and showed her www.spork.org. I think she'll forever be in disbelief.

**NOTE: "Mom-as-career" is in no way an assault on stay-at-home moms. They are two completely different breeds of moms. A stay-at-home mom is a mom that makes significant sacrifice in what she perceives as the best interest of her children. She gives up her career, her social circle and her high fashion to raise her children. The "Mom-as-Career" mom would print business cards if she could. She adds children to the mix the way some people seek promotions. Motherhood for her is not about family, or continuation of the species, but about her own personal "do-goodness". "Look at how wonderful I am, with my 2 perfect home-schooled children." Oh, and the Mom-as-Career monster is most recognizable but her army of nannies and caretakers.

My Brokeback Heart

What's a fag to do? In a post-scuba haze, you are lying on the sofa half-staring at the TV, half-wishing you could sit up to change the channel, and then the worst happens. Jack Nicholson, that creepy son-of-a-bitch, shatters everything you know and love. And the Oscar goes to... "Crash"!

What the fuck? Have I been a sleep for the past three months. Much like Jon Stewarts opening montage, was it all just a dream. Everyone loves Brokeback, even my folks. Ever hetero at work that's seen it has come to my office to announce how much they loved the film, as if the closing credits as straights to report their viewing to a homosexual immediately. Didn't the academy get the memo?

Okay, I'll be honest with you. I didn't see Crash. How good could any movie with Matt Dillon really be any good? Did you see In & Out? (Maybe, if Dillon could just get on stage, he could up the gay factor at the Oscars by outing a former teacher. But could you really "up" the gay factor on an Oscars telecast in which gay cowboys, Truman Capote, a mannish tranny, Dolly Parton, and a bunch of Japanese hookers are all nominated? How much public anal sex would be required to up that gay factor?)

The gays really do fall in love with things hard. Must be the latent lesbianism in us all. Once infatuated, it's all downhill. I really needed Brokeback Mountain to win. I had invested so much into it. I mean, I saw it twice. That's nearly $20 of my own money on the line. Plus, I used to stay up and secretly watch Jerry Springer just to see a 'mo on TV. This film was gonna change the lives of countless faggy twelve year-olds.

Clearly, I was coming at this from a wholly rational position. I knew early on that Brokeback Mountain was the best film of the year. That's why I didn't even see any of the other nominees.

In hindsight, perhaps my dedication to the film was a little silly. Coming off my Brokeback high, I think I was a little too in to it. A little fanatical. But I also realized it's not a gay trait. The lesbians are off the hook for this one.

Look at professional sports. Millions of American's root for their teams with unrelenting devotion, even dressing up like the athletes. I'll have you know that I managed to go the entire Oscar season without dressing up like a cowboy once! Sports fans paint their faces, line up for hours in the numbing cold, and scream and dance and cry with every victory and defeat. It's like a Madonna concert for the breeders.

So my devotion to Jack and Ennis is simply all part of the human experience. The force to identify with and celebrate something for which I have no earthly bond is unstoppable. I should embrace it. And take out Don Cheadle in a hail of gunfire. Watch out, Cheadle. I'm coming for you!

Evite, will you marry me?

I love evite. Being an early adopter, I've been eviting people parties for years. The site is a lot more fancy but let me list all the things I love about evite:

1) If I forget to invite someone, I can just add them later and they'll never know they weren't on the original list.

2) The competition for best snarky RSVP comment is intense, often better than the Olympics.

3) As a guest, you can pre-judge the party potential and see if any frienemies will be in attendance.

4) A little geeky, but you can easily save all your parties into Outlook, which then easily sync to the PDA. This is important if you have the Hollywood A-Lister party schedule that I do.

5) I can constantly try to leave the most f-ed up invite text ever, perhaps one day being invited to draft the text for a Presidential Innaugaration invitation. Judge for yourself my most recent evite text, written for my St. Patrick's Day Party:

In the 5th Century, a Welschman was sold into slavery and sent to Ireland. Once there, he quickly established an Internet porn site that's traffic quickly exceeded that of the greatest porn sites throughout all of Christian Europe. Young Patrick, now at the healm of a media empire, was confined to a wheel chair after a would-be assasin's bullet ripped through his spinal cord. Not to be deterred, Patrick rose up against his enemies -- painting half his face blue -- and invaded Germany. While there, he created a factory system to protect Jewish workers from the terror of the Nazi power, saving thousands of lives.

To honor this noble man, the Irish men and women of the world place wooden shoes outside their doors at night so magical woodland creatures can come in the night and fill them with beer. If you can chug your entire shoe without stumbling, you'll have seven years good luck. If not, you must carve a pumpkin with Patrick's image, dress up as a bunny and hide the pumpkin for children to find in the morning.

Since our wooden shoes are still at the cobbler, we needed to celebrate "Playa" style. So swing by the pad and prepare to make idol sacrfices before the St. Patrick's Day bikini models. Light snacks will be around, but don't come hungry for anything more than barley and hops.

And no, we won't be serving green beer because it creeps us out! Bring your own and drink it in shame, alone, in the bathroom. You'll likely end up there anyway!

Best. News. Of. The. Day. Period.

Clay Aiken. The Gayken. Man he makes me happy.

Not that I'm into him at all. I hate music. He looks like Xandir from Drawn Together. And he oozes his "Christianity" all over everyone like we're former military hustlers. He's a frickin' hypocrite and so I'm loving all his "press."

First, there was the Green Beret who came out with details of a physical relationship with the Gayken. Then he gets sued by his fans for being a 'mo. And now, the Enquirer publishes web cam photos of him doing a faggy, saggy nippled striptease.

1) Just come out already. No one will care that you are gay. Entertainment figures need to get over their irrational fear of themselves. Honestly, 98% of America really doesn't think about you all that much any way.

2) If you want to stay in the closet, fine, but being in the closet doesn't mean you have to "be straight." Stop the masquerade. You don't have to constantly affirm your heterosexuality, because, frankly, no one is buyin' it.

3) If you are going to be in the closet and and insist on the straight charade, then stop cruisin' the 'net for gay sex. You'll only get burned. The type of people who are on the Internet looking for sex, aren't the type of people you can trust with your secret. That's what Scientology is for!

I would say that Clay is mentally challenged, engaging in this activity, but based on his Internet chat with his most recent trick, he's clearly 100% aware of reality:

Anonymous Homo: I like beeing "cool"
The Gayken: youre obviously a little disturbed because you think i am attractive!
Anonymous Homo: welllllllll
The Gayken: but.. we can work through that
Anonymous Homo: my glamourized hollywood image of you.....
The Gayken: oh.. so now that youve seen the real me...not as attractive anymore?
Anonymous Homo: you're cute

See, he knows you'd have to be "a little disturbed" to find the Gayken attractive.

Clay, get over yourself. Come out or go into the priesthood, but give up this manhunt. Honestly, I'm sick of hearing about you when we could be hearing more "Patrick Dempsey is gay" rumors.

A Modern Anti-Reformation

My friend Damian shared this little gem with me. (So, I get my religion updates from a man named Damian, do you want to fight about it?)

From our Gmail Talk conversation (you haven't tried it yet?):

Damian: Slate had an interesting article on Protestants celebrating lent. They steal all the fun.
Me: They celebrate lent? When worshiping the devil? That seems strange to me.

I probably shouldn't care what the pagans do in their "churches", but stealing the dirt off our foreheads seems a step too far! They didn't fight the crusades! They didn't lead the inquisition! They didn't ignore the Holocaust! They didn't piddle all those little boys!

We stole our traditions from the Jews fair and square. If the "reformers" want to get in on our action, let's see their ministers go "celibate"! I didn't think so.

This reminds me of a conversation with an evangelical co-worker several years ago.

Defender of the Faith: Lance Bass is sooooo gay!
Crazy Nut Evangelical: He's not gay, Brian. He can't be. He's a good Christian. I read about it at church.
Defender of the Faith: They ain't mutually exclusive. I'm a gay. And Chrisitan.
Crazy Nut Evangelical: Well, you're Catholic. He can't be gay.

So, you guys can own the Christian title. (Catholic is more prestigious, what with all the gowns, and jewelry and fabulous art.) And we keep the fishsticks. Deal?

Pink State America... or... Homos in the Heartland?

We've all seen Brokeback Mountain by now. We can all appreciate the heartache of a woman destroyed by her lover's lies. Gay men who are forced by society into relationships with women can forever cripple a woman's ability to love, to be vulnerable, to wear a great blonde flip.

Yet, the ladies keep forcing their men into sodomy, training them like monkeys to take the banana. Today's news comes from Kansas State University. It may be the home to Dorothy, but Kansas is also the base of operations for the Intelligent Design (YAY!) movement, former Presidential nominee Bob Dole, and the mighty Rev. Fred Phelps. So what explains the 5th Annual Moore Hall Drag Queen Contest at Kansas State?



If you read the article, clearly its the ladies' fault. They are pushing their frat boys into fishnets and high heels. And it's not a pretty sight!

Jessica Creel, sophomore in pre-professional business administration, and Maggie Fisher, freshman in journalism and mass communications, helped Harriss with his hair, make-up and dress. They said they pushed Harris to perform in the drag queen contest.

And for what did these men reduce themselves to Heroin-chic hookers? Only the holy grail among drag queens: a $50 shopping spree to Wal-Mart!

I so don't get Red State America.