Is it this city?

I was trollin' around MySpace today looking at my friends profiles. In reality, I was scanning through for references, photos, or shout-outs about me. I didn't find many. I did however find the page of a woman I used to work with at Paramount.

She kind of looks like a Euro-mutt version of Frida Kahlo, nay, a mousey-Euro-mutt-Kahlo. She was never really interesting. She has some office gig in the businessy side of a studio. And her MySpace photo is a headshot!

What the fuck is she doing with headshots?

Is Los Angeles really that place? You know, the place where everyone -- literally everyone -- secretly pines for fame and fortune, so much so that they'll drop $400 for some too close, black-n-white photos that don't resemble me at all because they'll hide all the fat, zits and wrinkles?

Make Your Own TV

Reality television has hit a new low. Tonight I am watching Gameshow Marathon.

The premise is simple. They recreate every single totally awesome gameshow from the 70s and 80s. Clearly the idea is because there hasn't been a good idea in gameshowing since the Price Is Right added the Mountainclimber game.

They've done Price is Right, Let's Make a Deal, To Tell the Truth. Tonight I'm watching them recreate the Match Game. They use celebrity contestants instead of actuall interesting normal people. Okay. Maybe not celebrities. Tonight was a showdown between Kathy Najimy and Lance Bass. Uh huh. Of course, the celebrities don't win the prizes. The interesting normal people at home do -- we just don't have to look at ugly normal people... just ugly celebrities. (Observation: Both Kathy Najimy and Lance Bass have faces too small for their heads.)

Oh, and despite all the different versions of shows they use the same annoying fucking host -- Rikki Lake!

The sound is bizarre. Rikki is loud as shit and doesn't appear to have ever seen these games before and the production quality is similar to when Damian and I made radio shows in his basement. Heaven help us.

Cowboy Drag

This weekend I ventured into Carson, took a seat on the floor at the Home Depot Center, and enjoyed four hours of awesome, live country music. How butch! I went with my brother and his wife to the Kenny Chesney concert. It was a great show with Kenny, Dierks Bentley, Carrie Underwood and surpise visits from Uncle Cracker and Eddie and Sammy Van Halen.

The highlight of the evening for me was discovering a new breed of heterosexual: cowboy drag. You expect to see your fair share of rednecks, country hats and tight jeans at a country concert. Naturally, the parking lot was full of pick-up trucks and more Confederate flags than have ever been in the mostly black and Latino city of Carson. It's more than likely that the whole state of California was leaning a little more into the ocean with the huge emmigration of white trash from the Valley of the Dirt People.

But I wasn't prepared for the Cowboy Drag. Maybe it's an LA thing, but the cowboy has gone metrosexual.

There were a number of fat men in tank tops, mullets, and real, well-worn cowboy hats. But from our good seats on the floor, we also saw a number of gym-bodies covered in tight denim, loose linen and rich leather boots. The chests were meticulously manscaped, being revealed by a few too many open buttons. Chiseled faces highlighted by perfect, line-less tans all over. These were not the cowboys of South Dakota or West Texas, but rather of the Castro and West Hollywood.

The most popular accessory: a slutty young blonde on the arm! These were straight guys!

The only explanation I can think of is "Cowboy Drag." These guys love their country music. But they love getting "dressed up" even more. As a gay man, I can appreciate that. Any holiday with costumes easily trumps ones with marshmallow peeps or presents under the tree.

I should have brought a camera. Instead, the best I could do was find these photos -- sprinkled throughout -- to demonstrate the gayness of the cowboy that I saw firsthand on Saturday night. The Home Depot Center will never be the same again.

Bloggin' the BOR: Security Smurity

The series has taken a brief hiatus but is back with a vengeance. Today, I bring you the fouth in the Bloggin' the Bill of Rights series, the 4th Amendment.

The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.

Certainly not one of the "glamour amendments," the big fourth has helped create the air of a constitutional right to privacy. That right of privacy has helped establish access to birth control, abortion on demand, and gay sex and buggery! YAY 4th Amendment! Hallowed be thy name.

In addition, the 4th Amendment has helped add significantly to crime television like CSI and Law & Order, as the fuzz has had to hit up the courts to get their warrants prior to a rough search of a suspect's nether regions.

This type of law is also responsible for my favorite legal concept -- learned from my Law & Order addiction of 1998 -- which is the "fruit from the poisonous tree." When evidence is collected without a warrant, and that evidence leads to the discover of even better evidence -- that quite likley was collected with a warrant -- it can still be thrown out of court. I know this because it's have at least 3 or 4 thousand times to Jack McCoy in the run of 15 years.

Now, in recent administrations... cough... Bush sucks... cough cough... this amendment may not be getting as much attention in the courts as say Anna Nicole Smith. The Bushies are running rough shod all over it with illegal wiretapping all in the name of the War on Terra.

This is a good amendment though. A keeper of sorts. Fight hard for it.



Previously in the series:
1st Amendment: Right for my religion to squash yours, you infidel!
2nd Amendment: Right to blow your infidel ass of the planet!
3rd Amendment: Right to be picky with whatever soldier shares your bed.

Crazy As Bat Shit Pops Up Again

I was hanging out this morning -- yeah, Tuesday morning on a school day, you figure it out -- with a gentleman friend who works at the Evil Empire of the scuba world. He was asking me about the Human Rights Campaign logo and the ubiquitous "equal sign" stickers that pop-up everywhere.

Why did this come up? "Because someone came in to the store with one on his tank." Too classic.

"Was his name, (crazy as batshit)," I asked.

"Yeah, how did you know that?" It seems my stalker is getting his scuba needs met elsewhere, but by someone who is meeting my needs. You gotta love the irony, right?

NOTE: The photo is not of "my stalker" but of someone with the same name.

NEWSFLASH: Fun New Game!

The esteemed Jen Mac just noticed that blogger has made a fun little addition to their "word verification program." If you want to leave a comment, you have to type in some non-sensical mix of letters and numbers so that I know that you are real live breathing person and not some slut trying to pimp out your web cam.

Jen noticed that there now appears a little "Handicappable" symbol next to the word verification box. (Not to be confused with "Handifat" or "Geri-Jewell". -- Thanks Rick!) Click on the symbol. It'll amuse you for hours!

Thanks Mom & Dad

My last post blamed my parents for my current funk. While that probably isn't their fault, keeping me away from great gay cinema is -- probably part of their up-until-now secret attempt to jam me back in to the closet.

Every year, the fam goes on vacation. We go to Aruba. I essentially get a Big Lots vacation -- I just pay my airfare and sleep on the sofa for 2 weeks.

I just noticed that every year, our trip seems to coincide with Outfest, Los Angeles' Gay & Lesbian film festival. This year, I'll miss the West Side Story sing-a-long. So, while I may feel pretty, o' so pretty, I certainly won't get to feel gay!

The Meaning of Life

I hate my job. The people I work with are fucking pricks. There, I said it. They are stupid, lazy, incompetent, obese, ignorant and naive. They champion Che, radical immigrant activism, and anti-American rhetoric while shoveling Winchells donuts down their gullets. They hate the global capitalist state, but drive hot new Acuras and Hondas and Lexuses. Half of them still live at home with their parents while smoking, snorting or drinking the majority of their paycheck. All of the younger ones -- everyone under 30 -- have dreams of completing law school and working to ameliorate the conditions of the poor, but will likely end up whoring out for the corporate capitalist establishment they despise. And I endure this for 40 hours a week so that I can go diving on weekends and travel with my family. This is my fucking life. Why?

I love my parents but I think they screwed me over. I think the parents of a lot of people screw them over, especially parents of gay kids. Our parents spend our entire lives building us up for a future we will likely never see. In all likliness, I won't spawn. I'll never have little runts keeping me up at night and pissing on me at the most inopportune times. So why do I think I need to build up this big career?

I used to make fun of my old roommate because he was 40+ years old and sharing a low-rent apartment with me. He was making about $60,000 a year and had few assets. Oh, he took at least one nice vacation a year. And had, how should I say, some hobbies. Some white, powdery hobbies. And a curiousity for sex clubs.

He grew up poor. His mom likely wasn't beating into his head the idea that he needed to work hard, make lots of money, buy a great house in a good neighborhood for his kids. Hell, she sent him to the grocery store to shoplift pancake syrup.

And, for the most part, I think he's happy.

I got thinking this week about boarding a cruise ship and teaching scuba diving to overweight midwesterners. Could I do it? No. It wouldn't pay very well. (An inside source says somewhere around $1,500 to $1,700 a month plus all living expenses.) $20,000 a year to service my debt with no "career building"? Impossible.

Except, what do I -- a single, gay 27 year-old -- need to build a career for? I'm not worried about my longtime girlfriend Mary Sue accidentally getting knocked up. Timmy and Jenny, my spawn, don't need a Blue Ribbon public school or high-end private education. Shit, my Mercedes doesn't even need refinancing. Why? Because I don't have any of that shit and probably won't.

Why can't I just get it into my thick head that I can just live life. I can call up NCL America, send them my resume and board a ship for 6 months.

My Name In Lights

The above image has been swiped from my dear, dear friend Jen Mac's blog. (Her name is Jen MacNeil but honestly, she been Jen Mac to me for years. Like this girl in college, Jennifer Miller. For the first few weeks of our friendship I never knew her last name. She had a distinctive face -- not ugly really, just distinctive -- and so for some reason I started calling her Jen Weedlebaum. I convinced myself that "Weedlebaum" was her actually last name and would be in shock whenever she was referred to as Jen Miller by anyone else. But I digress.)

Jen Mac is funny as shit and a writer, comedienne, actress and improvist. She lives and works in super hip Manhattan and I had the pleasure of seeing her back in December. I'll be making another visit this year and expect to stay with her. But don't tell her yet, because I haven't asked.

She uses her blog for writing projects. The first one was ingenius! She responded to people who signed her High School Yearbook. Now, she's scrolling through the blogroll and introducing her friends with blogs. Go read the wonderful things she has to say about me... and my penis!

And maybe even leave a comment!

A Rose by Any Other Last Name is Likely to be Whacked!

My name is Brian Davis. My parents names are Harry and Mary Davis. (My brother are Harry and Ted Davis.) The President's name is George W. Bush. His parents are George H.W. and Barbara Bush. My best friend is Suzanne Maness. Her parents are Charlie and Susan Maness. Are you noticing a trend here?

Most people have the same name as their parents. Of course, marriage and divorce sometimes break the trend. But for the most part names are pretty consistent. Except when weird shit happens in the news:

The mother of a Plattsburgh man who is accused of hitting her in the head with a bottle opener during a discussion about "American Idol" is upset with the media coverage the case is receiving.

"They are making it out to be a circus," said Jan Chagnon, whose 24-year-old son, Cory K. Favreau, was charged May 24 with striking her on the head when she told him she thought "American Idol" contestant Katharine McPhee would receive a record contract despite losing to winner Taylor Hicks.

This is hardly the first time I've noticed this.

The most obvious pair over the past year is missing Alabaman Natallee Holloway and her mother Beth Conway Twitty (Two names that aren't the same as her teenage daughter. ) There are others. Maybe I'll post them.

The moral: If you want you and your spawn showing up on A Current Affair or Geraldo: At Large, make up some weirdass last name. As long as its different than yours.

Burgermeister Meisterburger Opposes Gay Marriage!

Who is the sole Democrat standing with George Bush and the Hate Amendment? Why, the Bugermeister Meisterburder, of course!

While reading this article on how the GOP's bigotry-in-Constitutional-clothing measure will fail quickly in the United States Senate, I was shocked to see the uncaptioned photo below! When did we elect a Rankin/Bass Christmas icon to the U.S. Senate?

Rest assured, the Burgermeister Meisterburger was not sent to Washington, DC by the good people of Nebraska. That is actually conservative Democratic Senator Ben Nelson. He is the only Democrat who has not come out against the second assault on gays to occure on June 5. (Today just so happens to be the 25th anniversary of the first AIDS diagnosis, then known as Gay Related Immune Deficiency or GRID. Nice timing, White House!)

Fortunately, we don't need Senator Meisterburger's vote because the Senate will come nowhere near the two-thirds needed to pass the Federal Marriage Amendment. It's unlikely the House will too. Therefore, it's dead. And the White House and the GOP know this. That's why they'll push the effort -- to win conservative voters back without going down in history for wiping their asses with the U.S. Constitution.

The real question is where does the Heat Miser stand on the Federal Marriage Amendment? And is it possible that the Heat Miser is just an out-of-work Burgermeister/US Senator trying make the time pass?