Drinking Patterns of Animals

You are at a bar. You are thirsty. You want a nice buzz, and wouldn't mind preventing urinary tract infections as well. What do you order?

Something tangy. Red. Made with vodka for a smoother hangover. Maybe a lime wedge. You can picture the drink. What do you order?

Do you order a "cranberry (juice) and vodka" or a "Cape Cod"?

This one, simple question is as accurate a way to determine one's sexuality as attaching electrodes to your genitals and watching a variety of porn.

Last night was my birthday. I like big birthdays, but being the control freak that I am, I also insist on coordinating it myself. I just don't trust my flakey friends. It was a "mixed" crowd, except the gay contingent was actually quite small in comparison. The vast majority of the party goers were straight. So to mix it up we end the evening with cocktails at a gay bar.

Boy are drinking patterns among gays and straights different!

1) Gays call their drinks cocktails. None of my straight friends did. They call them drinks. Bah!
2) Gays drink light beers out of bottles. Straights drink bold beers out of glasses.
3) Straights drink Jagermeister. I didn't even know this bar served Jager until last night.
4) Gays use the fruit that comes in their cocktails. Straights ignore the fruit in their drinks.
5) Gays mix with clear mixers (tonic, soda) or light mixers (cranberry juice). Straights like dark mixers like Coke.

Oh, and I definately would order a Cape Cod. Except I gave them up a few years back when I switched to a crisp vodka tonic.

Brian's No Good Very Bad Day

I am in a bad mood this morning like you've never seen. That bitch Hurricane Katrina has nothing on me today. So, word to the world, "Don't fuck with me or I'll mess you up, bitch!"

Being that, so far, you've been cool, let's dish on some other douchebag: a Mister Tony Tripoli. This fag is appearing as some fag in the mother of all fag shows, no doubt brilliantly written by the hilarious, handsome, and (I need another H-word) horny Rick Andreoli -- who I am sure already knows his last name bares a remarkable similarity to "areola". Mister Self-Important Nobody, not Rick but Tony, has an interview in the icon of journalistic integrity, the Paper of Record of sorts, if that record is what you use to beat off too and then simultaneously use to clean up the resulting mess. Miss Trip is interviewed in Frontiers Newsmagazine. (As if the "news" part was an afterthought.)

Clearly the Divine Miss Slut was interviewed because of the press machine behind Fashion House -- which I am sure is the greatest show on television. (Unfortunately, the cable people won't let channel 13, or rather, My13, come on in High Def and I just can't tolerate the pixelated "old stuff" on the roommies rediculous television.) But for some reason this bitch spends the majority of the interview, or what the writer chose to write, talking about Kathy Griffin.

Apparently, he was one of KG's "best gays" and was even featured on her reality show, which, honestly, I've never seen. After a decade of being in her shadow, I mean, of being her friend, KG and TT split -- along with his roommate and friend Dennis Hensley. TT and DH haven't spoken to KG in over a year. It's all her fault. How do I know? TonyT tells me. Even though, he doesn't want to...

You see, all Big Fat Tony wants is "to live in a world that has a little more kindness." He actually said that! The bitter fag actually said he wants to live in a world with a little more kindness. Do you know what else he said?

Kathy is the sun in her world and everyone else is planets revolving around her.

One friendship that has endured is the one between Tripoli and Hensley. Their chemistry was apparent the first time they met at a party, among a group of people watching a Vanessa Williams biography on the television. Both were annoyed by her speaking voice, which they decided was just a bit too self-important... “I made a rude remark, he agreed, and we just knew in that moment we were best friends who hadn’t met yet,” Tripoli says.

But before they began working, Tripoli was a little concerned about working with the actress, who is a staunch Republican.

Once the show airs, I’m hoping I can walk in here with a little bit more of an attitude. I can’t wait to have an entourage. That’s my plan for 2007, to be totally insufferable.

Mother-fucking-Teresa! Call Pope Benny, make this bitch a saint, today!

Assaulting a "former" friend and her ego. Political bigotry. Self-importantly ridiculing the self-important. And he wraps it up with a little auto-fellatio. Baiscally, he's the UN and Miss America all rolled up in one. He's flowers, and dew drops and puppies! I bet he cums Wendy's Frosties and keep fresh fries bedside for you when you're done. He's all kindness.

Of course, I'm not. But then again I've never longed "to live in a world that has a little more kindness." I like my world edgy and hostile. It makes me look like a fucking prince.

It's funny because at the end, he says that he aspries to be the Gay Oprah. Hey, bitch, we already got one and her name is Kathy Griffin.

That Bitch, Amber!

How did this little girl ruin last night's episode of weeds? Let's find out...



Meet Amber. Amber is a hateful little bitch who has a personal vendetta against quality television. That's the only explanation as to why her "alert" would interupt the greatest show on television, Weeds.

I was sitting in the living room with the roomies last night, including the new one for the first time, after a lovely family dinner. We turned on the television -- which is quite massive, as Ron brought back the big one! -- and prepared for a lovely evening of Weeds.

As the new roomie hasn't watched the show before, we had her sit through previous episodes while Ron cooked. We were all caught up and ready to watch...

About 5 minutes into the show, the screen goes black. It was about 10:05. We've been having some issues with the cable box and we all immediately panicked. We thought the night was ruined. Then we heard the ominous tone and a scrolling message came across the screen. It was an Amber Alert, an Amber Alert that would last for about 3 minutes and interupt part of our show.

A young girl was abducted in Palmdale at about 1:15 in the afternoon. Clearly, the public interest is served by having a bunch of twenty-somethings sitting in their living room in Playa del Rey on the lookout for the kidnapper. Almost nine hours after the abduction!

Dear CHP,

I really support any effort to return abducted children... so long as these efforts don't interfere with episodes of Weeds. Last night's Amber Alert was completely inappropriate.

First, if I were to abduct a child in Palmdale, I can promise you that you wouldn't find me in Los Angeles 9 hours later. In 9 hours I could practically be in Utah! Second, that last place I would go is into the quiet beach community of Playa del Rey. Perhaps the Amber Alert System could be localized to skip over our cable system. Finally, do you really thing people sitting at home watching Weeds are gonna jump right into action and find the missing girl? Unless the abducter is also a pizza delivery person, it's a safe bet that you could skip over television programming like Weeds as well.

I appreciate your immediate attention to this matter!

Sincerely,

Bri

Seriously, stop reading my blog!

Dearest readers! I love having you coming to my blog. I love the comments and the emails about what I wrote. I even love the nagging from Chris to post more often so he has something to do at work. But what I love more than anything is going to the statecounter and guessing where people are coming from.

This is a cool little tool. Like for example, since I set it up a couple of months ago, I've had just over 650 unique visitors and over 400 returning visitors. Monday I had the most page loads, but only 5 unique visitors. That was funny. Oh, and I can tell who's providing the Internet service. I have friends at CBS, Paramount, MTA, UCLA, USC... all who I know. There's one other company where I know one of my readers...

Except she hates me. Why the f*ck do you keep reading my blog? You sent me a hatefilled email that said horrible, hurtful things -- and yet you still come back to the blog a few times a week to see what going on in my life?

If you really are curious, call me. We can talk. I'm not upset about why we don't speak anymore. It was, from my perspective, a decision made entirely on your part.

If you want my witty reporting on my life, you know my phone number -- you can get it straight from the horse's mouth.

If you don't want to be my friend, and truly meant all those vicious things you said in that email, will you please stop reading my blog!?

How do you know? UPDATED

I've always wondered about this but haven't gotten the balls to ask my folks yet: Do parents know when their kids are gay? And if so, how could they tell?



Newsflash to Mr. & Mrs. Allen: Young Mister Zachary is as gay as the day is long! Love him. Cherish him. Buy him something sparkely!

I wonder if my mom and dad knew, and if so, when? Did they hide it? Fear it? Ignore it?

I know my sister-in-law had some idea. I think Ted and her were the first to ask. I lied of course. Really, though, do you know who the first to ask was? Eric Goldberg. I am pretty sure we were in 9th grade. We used to talk on the phone a lot. After that day, not so much. I was a little scared. Time to move on.

Eric and Jerilyn would be to straights with a lot of insight. Eric lived with Chris for years and he's as gay, as well, Zachary Allen in the above film. (Just kidding, Chris!) And Jerilyn has dated more gay men then I have!

I imagine that it would have been easier if those in the know had just told me. Said, "Hey, it's cool. Be gay. Here's something sparkely." I guess I had to bring them around.

UPDATE: Oh, and this guy... GAY GAY GAY