EffableArts Playwright Project - Stage Prep

Last month I posted a little blurb on my blog about writing my first manuscript. In it, I wrote...

"When offered to turn my writing into a NYC play, naturally I was flattered. But I initially turned it down because plays, musicals, and slam poetry just isn't me. I'm snowboards, sportbikes, and Bulldogs. Then after talking with a friend, I started to wonder if I turned down the NYC theater writing gig too early. It's good to do things out of your comfort zone, right? So I decided to do it, like a big cannonball into the water!"

Since then I completed my first draft and promised to keep everyone updated on how the playwright project is coming along. So today I'm happy to not only announce the next step, but to invite YOU along for the ride as well!

THE BLOGGER PLAYS: The Adventure Begins

Effabe Arts has gone out and searched the web to find NINE new and exciting writers to give us NINE new short plays! THE BLOGGER PLAYS will be having it's first (very informal) reading on Wednesday, December 9th. It will be at the official bar of Effable Arts - Bar One And One at 7pm (directions). We will be asking actors and potential directors to come, read, comment, and help our writers in the next steps to getting these bad-ass scripts ready for the stage. Please RSVP and let us know what you're interested in doing. We hope to see you all there!

WHAT: The Blogger Play - First Reading
WHERE: One And One - Nexus Lounge (Basement)
WHEN: Wednesday, December 9th, 7PM

Website: http://www.effiblearts.com/
Twitter: @EffableArts
Facebook: Effable Arts Fan Page

While their manuscripts will be a surprise, their identity is not. I encourage you to follow them on Twitter and check out their blogs. Now let me introduce you to the 9 writers...

David Stehle
Twitter: @davidstehle
Blog: The Rest Is Still Unwritten

Jen Kucsak
Twitter: @jenkucsak
Blog: The Dating Jungle

Stephane Magloire
Twitter: N/A
Blog: Rabbit Hole: Enter Here!

Zachary Wilson
Twitter: @newzac
Blog: And How

Una LaMarche
Twitter: @sassycurmudgeon
Blog: The Sassy Curmudgeon

"K"
Twitter: info removed by request
Blog: info removed by request

Meghan Blalock
Twitter: @megbeebee
Blog: Blackberries to Apples

Polly Syllabick
Twitter: @pollysyllabick
Blog: The Hitch List

Jessie Rosen
Twitter: @20nothings
Blog: 20-Nothings



So if you're in the NYC area around Dec 9th, would love to have you join us!

And The Beat Goes On

Don't have tickets to the Michael Jackson memorial service today? Not at home to watch it on TV and your boss won't let you stream it online at work? Don't worry. I have the next best thing. A way to celebrate Michael Jackson's life and the legacy he left behind. And what better way to do it than with his love and mine - music! I give you the best of Michael Jackson. His top 30 all-time hits, including tracks from his early days in The Jackson 5. I've gathered them all in mp3 format, then zipped them up in one file for you to download for free! Think of this as the essential collection to any music library. Without a doubt, these are MUST HAVE tunes!

Michael Jackson's Top 30 Hits of All-Time
1. Michael Jackson - ABC (2:58)
2. Michael Jackson - Bad (4:10)
3. Michael Jackson - Beat It (4:19)
4. Michael Jackson - Billy Jean (4:54)
5. Michael Jackson - Black Or White (4:15)
6. Michael Jackson - Dirty Diana (4:52)
7. Michael Jackson - Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough (5:53)
8. Michael Jackson - Earth Song (6:46)
9. Michael Jackson - Ease On Down The Road (3:19)
10. Michael Jackson - Heal The World (6:25)
11. Michael Jackson - Human Nature (4:06)
12. Michael Jackson - I Want You Back (2:56)
13. Michael Jackson - I'll Be There (3:56)
14. Michael Jackson - Jam (5:39)
15. Michael Jackson - Man In The Mirror (5:19)
16. Michael Jackson - P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) (3:59)
17. Michael Jackson - Remember The Time (4:01)
18. Michael Jackson - Rock With You (3:40)
19. Michael Jackson - Scream (4:38)
20. Michael Jackson - Shake Your Body (2:36)
21. Michael Jackson - Smooth Criminal (4:17)
22. Michael Jackson - The Girl Is Mine (3:42)
23. Michael Jackson - The Way You Make Me Feel (4:57)
24. Michael Jackson - They Don't Care About Us (4:44)
25. Michael Jackson - Thriller (5:57)
26. Michael Jackson - Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' (6:03)
27. Michael Jackson - We Are The World (7:07)
28. Michael Jackson - Who Is It (6:35)
29. Michael Jackson - Will You Be There (5:52)
30. Michael Jackson - You Are Not Alone (5:45)

Download the mjmusic.zip file here.

Of course I had to remove the link due to the RIAA, Blogger and all the goody-two-shoes who would surely cry and complain that I uploaded the music for free. Sooo...if you really want the file, drop me an e-mail (diamondkt at gmail dot com) requesting it. Within 24 hours, I'll send a group e-mail out to everyone whose request I received. In that e-mail you will find the "secret link" in which you can download mjmusic.zip from. It's as simple as that. Enjoy!

Related post of interest...
06/26/09 Michael Jackson, Our Generation’s Elvis

Michael Jackson, Our Generation’s Elvis

Growing up, I can still recall seeing the Michael Jackson poster on my oldest sister’s bedroom door. It was larger than life, just like him. A full length poster that not only met, but matched, her dusty pink carpet floor. He was clad in a brown leather jacket with that 80s-style soft lighting surrounding him in a heavenly glow. Soulful brown eyes and a set of pearly white teeth to set it off. He parted his lips to form his trademark smile, both shy and sweet. To my sister, he was dreamy. To me, he was a cool dude! I can still recall her Levi's jean jacket covered in "Beat It" and "Thriller" buttons. I can even recall getting a look-a-like Thriller jacket in red pleather one year for Christmas, along with a two-tone colored Nerf football. I put that jacket on and performed my best Heisman trophy pose. I still have the photo of it, which naturally is one my family enjoys ridiculing the most. I believe that was the same year I had to sit thru the dance recital that both my sisters were in. Their jazz performance of...you guessed, Thriller. I would later dress up as Michael Jackson for Halloween, complete with shiny glove. So many memories. So many songs. Like many my age, Michael Jackson was a part of our childhood. He helped define what part of being an 80s kid was. And without him, I don't think my childhood would have been the same.

We didn’t have MTV at our house, so when we ventured to Grandma’s for a visit, my sisters and I would swarm the TV hoping to catch a Michael Jackson video. And his videos weren’t just music videos, they were like mini-movies! No one has ever been able to duplicate his style. The man was truly one of a kind and so incredibly talented! Older folks may argue that he’s no Elvis Presley, but to the younger generation, he was far bigger. In fact, he was the biggest selling artist ever in music history! That’s right, "The King of Pop" Michael Jackson outsold "The King" Elvis Presley! And even though Elvis will forever be known as putting Rock & Roll on the map, Michael Jackson will be forever known as reinventing it and giving the world what has become known as Pop Rock.

The thing about Michael Jackson and his music that I think a lot of people missed or took for granted is that he was sooo ahead of the times. For example, the song "Man In The Mirror". Michael Jackson was preaching for people to make a change 20 years before Barack Obama ever made it his Presidential campaign slogan! Michael Jackson knew back then that if change in the world was to be made, that he had to start with "the man in the mirror" - himself. Of course it wasn’t until Obama took the stage two decades later proclaiming change needed to be made in America that people all decided to chant the word and jump on the bandwagon. But because Michael Jackson was a musician and not a politian, his message didn’t seem to hit home hard enough.

Another thing about Michael Jackson is even if you look back and say that guy grabbed his crotch too much when he danced, he had entirely too much plastic surgery to the point where his nose was nearly falling off, or even those that bring up the pedophile allegations which he was found NOT guilty of...people still can’t deny his God-given talents! The man could dance circles around anyone, not to mention blow the roof off of any sold out venue. His lyrics were always powerful and well written. They touched on every aspect of the human condition, all while doing it in a "cool" way, never overly emotional or cliché.

So I’m sure you already heard the sad and shocking news, "The King of Pop" Michael Jackson has passed away. Honestly, celebrity deaths never bother me, but this one did. I think the reason is because he helped shape my childhood. Michael Jackson's name was ingrained into what I listened to, how I dressed and even who I admired. I used to moonwalk across my Mom's kitchen floor! I have to admit, I'm still having a hard time believing he's gone. Just last week I called up my sister when I had learned he was making a comeback tour. He hadn’t performed in my hometown for 20 years! So my sister and I made a pact that if he ever came back, we would get tickets, no matter what the cost. These days, whether people see attending a Michael Jackson concert as queer or not, it’s the one concert you must see in your lifetime! Just think of what an incredible performance he must put on. Of course, that concert is never going to take place now. I was far too young to see him back in the 80s and as of yesterday, it’s now too late to ever see him.

The great thing about music is that even when the artist dies, his work lives on. Be prepared to hear Michael Jackson’s music being pumped in every club, out of every car window and on every street corner for years to come. The man may have died, but his music never will.

Thanks for being a part of my childhood, Michael. You will be greatly missed.

The Bitch Slap Heard Around The Blogosphere

You don’t have to be a blogger or a celebrity to know who Perez Hilton is. The man is a fame whore and looks for the limelight every chance he can get, whether the lighting is complimentary or not. To Perez Hilton, any publicity is good publicity. Covering scandals involving celebrities is how he makes his living. And when there isn’t a celebrity scandal to report, he tries his damndest to stir one up by spreading rumors (whether factual or not) and just generally talking shit on people. God only knows why his virtual gossip rag drives in millions a day! Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t find anything he posts to be of interest. Then again, I’m not one to pick up a tabloid magazine or tune into TMZ either. In fact, I couldn’t care less what happens in LA. Hollywood lives bore me. Yeah, I said it. It’s a plastic town that’s predictable, artificial and staged. I fail to see the originality or appeal there. Just a quick glance at PerezHilton.com makes me feel like I’ve opened my Junior High School class yearbook. Pages dripping in insecurity, jealously, petty remarks , a hint of desperation in fitting in among one’s peer group, and of course the less than clever or humorous tags on the photos. Breathe in nice and deep. That’s the smell of forever 7th grade being sucked up your nasal cavities. Personally, I would give PerezHilton.com an entertainment value of zero. Although I know many people would disagree with me because it remains one of the highest traffic rated blogs online.

Couldn’t resist making my own lame graffiti photo, Perez-style.

They say Hollywood is just high school with money. If that is true, then Perez Hilton would be the most loathed kid in class! He would be snapped with a wet gym towel, shoved into a locker, and locked helplessly inside screaming and crying until 5th period. Make no mistake about it, Perez Hilton loves his title of "Hollywoods’s Most Hated Blogger". And even though books are no longer being knocked out of his hands in the hallway, Perez Hilton has really not grown up, even at the age of 31! He’s still that arrogant, pimple-faced prick that continues to talk smack and doesn’t seem to grasp the concept of what goes around comes around. Or at least he wasn’t (literally) smacked with that dose of reality until this past weekend.

As an openly gay blogger, Perez Hilton of all people had the nerve to call Black Eyed Peas rapper Will.I.Am a faggot! Seriously, dude? That’s like the pot calling the kettle black. And when the pot calls the kettle black, the pot gets a black eye.

It all went down in a Toronto nightclub when Perez opened his big, fat mouth and left out a homophobic slur. So Will.I.Am’s manager, Polo Molina, politely replied by punching Perez Hilton in the face! Apparently Perez Hilton was so shook up over the incident that immediately after it happened, he Tweeted about it. Yes, he announced he was assaulted and bleeding and needed someone to send him help via his Twitter page! Just more proof that this guy is starving for attention! He even posted a "statement from the heart" on his blog which read..."I was attacked from behind without warning and repeatedly punched in the head in a cold, disgusting and unnecessarily violent manner." Umm, isn't that basically the same thing he has done to people for years? As I've mentioned earlier, Pereze Hilton has made a living off of repeatedly bashing people. Day in and day out he insults people behind their backs and makes it public for all the world to see. That in itself is cold, disgusting and totally unnecessary.

While he’s whining about filing a police report, he needs to put things into proper perspective. The dude got rich by being a bitch. And now he wants to cry when it comes back to smack him in the face? Hey, if you can dish it out, you better be able to take it...to the face. I know you've heard it before, but it's called karma. Deal with it. Am I encouraging violence? Well, no. But did this guy have it coming to him? YES! Definitely yes! And in all honesty, I’m surprised it took this long before someone wailed on him. As far as I’m concerned, Perez Hilton isn’t much higher up on the food chain than your average paparazzi guy. And we all know they deserve a good beatdown every now and then.

So bravo Polo Molina! The pot called the kettle black and the pot got a black eye courtesy of the Black Eyed Peas.

You Can’t Romanticize A Stripper

There are many things in life that can be romanticized. The way you tell a story, the way you capture a moment in time with photograph, or the way you create life with just a bit of paint and a simple brush. Some would argue that you could even romanticize a tragic suicide. But one thing you can’t romanticize with words - a stripper. But yet somehow, Jason Mraz tried doing just that. While Jason Mraz has a couple really good hit songs, this is not one of them. In fact, I feel this is perhaps the worst song he's ever written! Before I heard it, there was a point where I felt he may be a lyrical genius like John Mayer. Sadly though, he's no baby John Mayer. I think you'll agree as I'll let these lyrics speak for themselves.

Jason Mraz - "Butterfly"
Taking a moment just imagining that I'm dancing with you
I'm your pole and all you're wearing is your shoes
You've got soul, you know what to do to turn me on until I write a song about you
And you have your own engaging style, you've got the knack to vivify
And you make my slacks a little tight, you may unfasten them if you like
That's if you crash and spend the night

Chorus:
But you don't bode, you don't pay, you got everything you need
Except for me, sister you've got it all
You make the call to make my day
In your message say my name
Your talk is all the talk, sister you've got it all

Curl your upper lip up and let me look around
Ride your tongue along your bottom lip and bite down
And bend your back and ask your hips if I can touch
Well they're the perfect jumping up point
Getting closer to your butterfly

You float on by
Oh kiss me with your eyelashes tonight
Or Eskimo your nose real close to mine
And let's mood the lights and finally make it right

Repeat Chorus

Mmm mmm And all I really need to see
You pull your knee socks up
Let me feel you upside down, slide in, slide out
Slide over here, climb into my mouth now

Butterfly
Well you landed on my mind
Actually landed on my ear but you crawled inside
And now I see you perfectly behind closed eyes
I wanna fly with you
But I don't want to lie to you

But I can't recall a better day
Sun coming to shine on the occasion
You're sophisticated, lady, you've got it all
You've got it all to make my day
In your message say my name
Your talk is all the talk, sister you've got it all

You know that fortune favors the brave
But let me get paid while I make you breakfast
The rest is up to you, who makes the call
I never forget a face, 'cept maybe my own
I have my days, let's face the fact here
It's you who's got it all

I can't recall a better day
Sun coming to shine on the occasion
You're an open-minded lady, you've got it all

You've got it all, you've got it all, you've got it all (3x)

Butterfly, baby, you've got it all

Like a lunch buffet at a strip club, this song too is deeply disturbing. Titties and tatter tots don't mix, and neither do strippers and romance. Not to mention this song has entirely too many fucking lyrics to it! There are also some major flaws in the lyrics...or rather "ick factors" as I prefer to call them. Butterfly kisses and Eskimo noses - vomit! And what self-respecting man uses the word "slacks" to describe his pants? Don't even get me started on his line about wanting her to slide over here and climb into his mouth. Jesus dude! I can't think of anything more nauseating than letting my lips come within an inch of some skanky stripper. I would rather gargle with a handful of dirt and motor oil than put my mouth anywhere on a glittery stripper whose been crawling all over the filthy floor and grinding on a greasy pole. Speaking of glitter, what's up with that? Why does my crotch have to look like I rubbed a tacky Christmas card on it after a stripper doused in body glitter gives me a lap dance? It's not sexy. It's annoying. Well just to be clear, the lap dance isn't annoying, just the glittery aftermath is.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not anti-stripper. I mean, who doesn't enjoy a T&A show? It's just that romanticizing a stripper just seems so horribly wrong to me. While the idea of a strip show is supposed to be sexy, romanticizing a stripper is not. Unless of course that stripper is your girlfriend, then it's waaay sexy! If I have to explain why that is, you just wouldn't understand. The same way I don't understand how anyone ever thought that clear stripper shoes would be sexy.

In short, T-Pain's "I'm In Love With A Stripper" was a much better song! In fact, it was kind of a catchy-ass tune. He kept it real. Sorry Jason, but there's nothing romantic about a girl who grinds for a dollar. And if you disagree, then perhaps you need to step away from the titty bar for awhile. Go check out the sunlight. Or better yet, watch a sunrise or sunset - that's romantic.

Man Candy

Does this tie make my butt look fat? Or does it just make me look a 6'1 peppermint candy cane? I guess there are worst things in life than looking like Man Candy. I’ll admit, it does look a little "candy striper-ish". From what I’ve learned, it’s not the suit, it’s the combo. It’s just too much together. It’s not the best cell phone photo, but the tie actually has some light gray in it if you look close. I even had a gay dude help me out in picking the combo. I was afraid he might steer me queer, but instead he apparently just failed me all together. When I came home and laid the suit out on my bed, I became nervous when the realization hit me - I’m going to look like a dork! So I posted this photo on my Facebook page looking for a little fashion help. I’m normally a snappy dresser and I’m not just saying that to make myself feel better, it’s true. Those who know me can vouch for that. But like any straight man, I too have moments of despair. I too sometimes need dressed like a Ken doll, minus the plastic blonde wave of course.

I grew up with my own live-in personal stylist, but when my sister moved to California, I lost my fashion guru. So now I’m like a lost puppy. Thankfully though, someone has stepped up and has agreed to take me under her wing. It has been suggested that I could just wear the tie, but wouldn’t that be obscene? JUST the tie...and nothing else? I don’t know about that! I think that may get me arrested.

I originally bought the suit for a meeting with a bunch of old and crusty government guys in DC. I always have to be mindful of what I wear around them because they don’t exactly appreciate the young/trendy look. They stick to the formal basics. Black. Black. White. And maybe if they are feeling crazy, they add navy blue or gray into the mix. So even though red is my favorite, I hate to throw such a bold color at them. Most are old enough to be my father, or rather older than my father, so I wouldn’t want their ticker to stop! They aren’t prepared to handle the splash of red, which really is fine because I’ve seemed to have accumulated a lot of black clothes to fit their taste. Besides, black is classic, you can’t go wrong with it.

So what’s the verdict? Well I kept the suit and ditched the tie. Actually I still have the tie, but I plan on returning it. For my meeting with the boys in Washington, I went with the suit that never fails to bring me good luck and receives a politian’s nod of approval, the black pinstripe three-piece Armani. And it’s a good thing it makes me feel confident because those guys do their best to rattle me and mentally drain me. The sad part, it works. Seriously, the pressure placed upon me is ridiculous and it’s beyond exhausting! I find myself sweating like a whore in church.

I don’t want to dress like pimp or anything. I’m not into the fur hat and diamond encrusted cane assemble. And I’m not into wearing snake and crocodile skin loafers. I don’t feel the need for my wardrobe to look like it’s the product of a massive San Diego Zoo slaying. Most days I’m Pumas and jeans for work, but when I have a meeting, I need to clean up nicely. I don’t mind dressing up. In fact, I sort of enjoyed my last suit fitting. I walked in thinking I need that cute sales girl’s help. I need her to dress me. Although I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to her UNdressing me either! She obliged my request by helping me get fitted. "Take your pants off", she ordered. God, I thought she would never ask! And she didn’t need to tell me twice! I obeyed. She didn’t say it in a sexy/flirty way though. It was more matter of fact, very business-like. That’s fine though. For all I know, she could be jailbait, but I’m guessing she’s in her early 20s. Regardless, I think her grandfather (the little old man who runs the store) would want to kick my ass if I made a move. Although, he is only 5 feet tall and 100lbs soaking wet. So I think I could take him.

Now if I can just figure out how to stop the little old Italian tailor from tossing around my junk when measuring my inseam. I understand you have to "adjust" to get a proper measurement, but does he really need to manhandle my privates that much? It seems a bit excessive and it makes me more than a little uncomfortable. I wouldn’t mind his granddaughter pitching in to help though. Speaking of needing help, I could also use a hand in unraveling the mystery as to why one of my cufflinks always goes M.I.A. when I’m running late in the morning. I hate that! It will go down as one of life’s greatest mysteries, just like the dryer sock disappearance. Whoever solves the mystery as to why dryers eat a single sock during every wash load will surely be awarded the Nobel Prize!

The Cult Of Oprah

When I say names like Britney or Madonna, you know who I’m talking about. These celebrities are so big that they are known by their first name alone. But what about Oprah? Wasn’t it enough that she was identified by one name alone? Obviously not because she had to take it a step further and narrow it down to just a single letter – O. I mean comeon. Everyone knows what "The Big O" has always been in reference to and now you are going to try and steal that? Have you no shame, woman? If there are two things I know in life, it’s that women love orgasms and Oprah. Ok, well some women love Oprah. Actually some women take their love of Oprah to a whole new level and have a big "O" over her. Hey Oprah is big, but she shouldn’t be that big! And no, I’m not referring to her fluctuations in weight. I’m referring to the fact that Oprah has somehow managed to brainwash millions of women into hanging on her every word and following her every step. If you ask me, she’s constructed nothing short of a cult! It honestly disgusts me! They bow down to her like she is some God! If Oprah took a big shit on her stage, I am willing to bet some crazy woman would run up there and snag a nugget for herself. Anything to be close to the big "O".

I get that people often find someone in life they look up to. And often that person is someone famous. I used to look up to Michael Jordan. I loved the dude, but I certainly didn’t cry over him like these women do with Oprah! Besides, I was 13-years-old. I was a kid! It’s perfectly normal and rather acceptable for a kid to look up to someone. But these women that are in the cult of Oprah are grown ass women! It is NOT normal and it should NOT be acceptable behavior. Admire the woman if you must, but don’t drop to your knees and weep like God himself just walked out in a pair of Manolo Blahniks. I’m not even exaggerating when I say these women are literally fainting as they scream hysterically and streams of salty tears pour down their face. It’s sooo ridiculous!

I’m extremly thankful that I have a full-time job so I don’t have to endure the nauseism that is daytime TV. However, some days I work from home and I leave the TV on as background noise. So of course the one particular day I happen to be home with the TV on, Oprah appears. I groan in distaste and look for the remote. Before I have time to flip the channel, I hear her proclaim that on today’s show she is going to unveil her most favorite tech gadget of all-time. What, the electric mixer? Oprah is in her mid 50s. What does she know about cutting edge technology? I immediately roll my eyes knowing that whatever little gadget she pulls out of her sleeve will most likely be stupid and has probably been on the market for months, if not years! It’s sort of like the old folks on "60 Minutes" when they talked about this new technology that is taking the music industry by storm – mp3s. Um, ok fine, if that aired in 1999 when Napster hit the scene. But these old farts ran the segment nearly a decade later! Can you say old news, ancient history, get with the times? Despite what my instincts were telling me (turn the channel), I decided to see what this tech gadget of hers was.

So after some well rehearsed hoopla, Oprah works her worshipping cult members (AKA viewers) into a fit of hysteria and busts out her favorite tech gadget of all-time. Get ready for it...it’s the Amazon Kindle. Ha. Hold your laughter. It gets worse. If you don’t know what the Amazon Kindle is, it’s an e-book reader. An embedded system for reading electronic books (e-books). Did I mention it’s one of the biggest flops in tech gadget history? When it was originally introduced to the public about a year ago, it fell on its face. It seemed like a clever idea and a handy gadget in theory, but for many reasons it just didn’t go over well when it came to actually selling it to consumers. In fact sales were so poor that there was talk of production on it being stopped. That was until "O" came along and breathed new life into it like the God she is. After working her cult into a fit of hysteria, like any good cult leader, she then pushed them over the edge by announcing that everyone in her audience was taking home a Kindle with them for free! Needless to say these mindless women, who come in droves to tapings of the Oprah show like a bunch of zombies, began screaming and crying! They were so full of emotion over one of the worst tech gadgets of all-time that they could barely speak the words..."Thank you Oprah. Thank you my God. You have given my life meaning and a reason to keep on living." I stood infront of my television completely shocked over their insanely crazy reaction. Was this for real? Surely they can’t be serious!

The Amazon Kindle costs $385. Not exactly cheap, but not all that expensive either. Regardless of what the price tag is on an item that Oprah gives away, these women act like she just gave them her first born child! I’ve seen Oprah give cars away and I’m not surprised people get excited over that. So a little "Price Is Right" jumping up and down on that one is fine. But even when Oprah hands out some washed-up artist’s CD or some unknown author’s book, her audience becomes just as thrilled! These are items under $20. Are you telling me these kept housewives and stay-at-home Moms can’t afford to slap down an Andrew Jackson on one of those items themselves? Just because the "O" says the Kindle rocks, you believe her? That is what I’m referring to when I call it cult mentality. Oprah can pretty much say dog poo tastes like chocolate and I can guarantee you these women would be wanting to snack on it too.

What really tops it all off is that because she is "endorsing" (read that as being paid to advertise) the Kindle, Amazon founder and chief executive, Jeff Bezos, is now her BFF. He even went on her show to help promote it. If you think about it, it was more of a paid infomercial than a talk show that day. Of course you can’t tell her cult that! They wouldn’t believe that! And more importantly, do they even care? They can’t comprehend the fact that many celebrities are paid to endorse products that they may or may not love. And sorry to break it to all these women, but Oprah is no different! Oprah makes $385 million a year, which is roughly $385 million more than I make. But that’s not why I’m hating on her. And the fact that she is one, if not THE most powerful woman in the world is also not why I’m hating on her. Afterall, I am not threatened by a successful woman. Actually, I find successful independent women very sexy, with the exception of Oprah.

So why do I hate Oprah? Well I hate her for the simple fact that I hate women who have nothing better to do with their lives than watch re-runs of Dr. Phil and Oprah on a Tuesday afternoon. I suppose in a way it is sort of amazing they are able to squeeze in an hour or two of tube time in-between their busy schedule of palates and stopping at Starbucks on the way to getting their nails done. Get a life. Get a job. Get a mind of your own and stop following Oprah like she is preaching the gospel. Breakaway from her cult. Please, I beg of you!

***NOTE***
Just another reason why I hate the Kindle is because often tech gadgets are anonymous, anodyne, soulless. I'm a tactile person and part of the enjoyment one gets from reading is the actual feel of the book in your hands. And as much as I love tech gadgets, you can't replace or duplicate that sensation. I have a small love affair with paper and ink. Read the post below and you'll see.
9/12/08 - The Handwritten Letter Is A Dying Art

If There Was No Net, Would You Stop Me From Jumping?

It is an iconic structure. An engineering masterpiece. A triumph of human ingenuity and muscle over the elements. A symbol of San Francisco. The West. Freedom. And something more. Something almost spiritual, but impossible to describe. It’s the Golden Gate Bridge and it’s where more people choose to end their lives than anywhere else in the world. The sheer number of deaths there is shocking, but perhaps not altogether surprising. If one wants to commit suicide, there is an eerie logic in selecting a means that is almost always fatal and a place that is magically, mysteriously beautiful. Almost two dozen people a year are reported to end their lives by jumping off the bridge which spans the San Francisco bay. Although official figures aren’t published, in order to not encourage potential jumpers, it’s estimated that roughly 1,300 unfortunate people plummeted to their deaths 200 feet below the bridge. Want another startling fact? Every day, 89 people commit suicide in the United States. This tragic act is the 11th leading cause of death in America. And studies show that more than half of American college students have considered suicide at some point in their lives. As life, or rather death, would have it...the magnificent Golden Gate Bridge, for all its beauty, or maybe because of it, has always attracted those poor souls who saw no point in going on and decided they might as well make their exit spectacular.

Inspired by a 2003 article from New York Magazine entitled "Jumpers", written by Tad Friend, there is a documentary that was made a few years back that you may or may not be aware of. It’s titled "The Bridge" and it has been surrounded by controversy since it was released. The New York Times calls it "One of the most moving and brutally honest films about suicide ever made...remarkably free of religious cant and of cozy New Age bromides. Eerie and indelible." I have the film, but I have yet to watch it. One of these days I will, but for now, it’s a topic that hits too close to home. I hope I’m not the norm in having a family member and a best friend who committed suicide. And I hope I’m not the norm in knowing countless other people who have either attempted suicide or considered it. Even I have battled bouts of severe depression since age 11, which led to "things" – let’s just leave it at that.

I’ve seen suicide from both the outside and the inside. It’s hard to put into words because the pain is indescribable. However, it needs to be put into words. Perhaps we needed "The Bridge" to paint us the visual for when these words escape us. This grim and very taboo topic is something I’m all too familiar with, but a topic that I really think people should talk about. People need not to just talk about it. They need to see it to really feel it, because God forbid they have to experience it firsthand. If people refuse to open a dialog up and shed some light on the subject, then in the dark is where it will remain. It shouldn’t be a dirty, little secret we hide and refuse to acknowledge, but that is exactly what it is.

People suffer largely unnoticed while the rest of the world goes about its business. "The Bridge" is a documentary exploration of the mythic beauty of the Golden Gate Bridge, the most popular suicide destination in the world, and those drawn by its call. Director Eric Steel and his crew filmed the bridge during daylight hours from two separate locations for all of 2004, recording most of the two dozen deaths in that year (and preventing several others). In addition, the director captured nearly 100 hours of incredibly frank, deeply personal, often heart-wrenching interviews with the families, friends and witnesses of these suicides. The film raises questions about suicide, mental illness and civic responsibility as well as the filmmaker's relationship to his fraught and complicated material. It offers glimpses into the darkest and possibly most impenetrable corners of the human mind. The fates of the 24 people who died at the Golden Gate Bridge in 2004 are linked together by a 4 second fall, but their lives had been moving on parallel tracks and similar arcs all along. "The Bridge" is a visual and visceral journey into one of life’s gravest taboos.

Suicide doesn’t discriminate. It affects men and women of all walks of life, both young and old, and of all races and religion. And after decades of debate, the Golden Gate Bridge board of directors has decided to install safety netting (AKA, a suicide net) 20 feet below the bridge’s deck. The net, made of metal wiring coated with plastic, will catch any jumpers and allow rescue teams to easily untangle them due to its design. It is made to partially collapse around anyone who jumps into it, thus preventing the person from re-jumping and completing their mission. The 3.4 miles of netting will cost between $40-50 million dollars, so the project isn’t expected to be completed for several years. Sometimes all suicidal people need is a certain amount of time to stop and reflect in order to change their mind. San Francisco is hoping this net will do just that.

I have mixed feelings on the suicide net. And of course this raises a very real religious, legal and moral debate. If someone is about to kill themselves, should you, would you, could you stop them? Trust me, you do not want to have the "shoulda/coulda/woulda" argument with yourself after the fact. By then it’s too late and you can’t bring them back. There is no mulligan. No second chance. No do-over. It’s a done deal and you are left with the "what if" questions that will haunt you until the day YOU die. But that is YOU. What about them? What about what they want? If there was no net, would you stop me from jumping? (This is a hypothetical question.)

Designer Shoes In Glass Cases? Carrie Bradshaw Would Be Proud!

As you may or may not be aware, it’s Fashion Week in NYC, Bryant Park to be exact. If you don’t know what Fashion Week is, then I can’t even speak to you! (Read that in my huffy, gay sounding voice.) Seriously though, it’s sort of the "be all end all" of clothes, shoes, accessories and all that other junk my sister is so obsessed with. It’s the world’s premier fashion event and if you aren’t there, you’re a loser! Ok, that’s a bit harsh. You’re just not as cool and as stylish as some? Anyway, the point of this post is to share this photo I stole from a friend who attended a show today. This would make Carrie Bradshaw sooo proud! I can see her weeping now, tears of joy that is. Granted, some designer shoes cost more than diamond and platinum jewelry, but are we really showcasing shoes in glass cases now? It seems a bit much to me.

I’ll admit it. I’m a straight man who can not only recognize Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo shoes on a woman, but I can sometimes (emphasize on "sometimes") tell them apart. I know, shocking and scary. And while I’m being honest/borderline gay, how gay is it for me to say that I love my Prada shoes? That’s right, I have some Prada shoes...and a jacket...and a... I think I’ll stop there. But hey, if I dressed like a slob, my sister would surely disown me. Hmm, would that necessarily be a bad thing though? I’m kidding. I love my sister, sometimes. It was inevitable that all her fashion crap was bound to wear off on me sometime. She’s been hung up on it since age 3 and I grew up in the same house with her for the first 18 years of my life.

Still, all I’m really interested in is the super hot models! But if you want to check out what’s going on at Fashion Week, then you can try to weasel your way into a show too. Although it’s highly unlikely you’ll succeed unless you are somehow tied to the fashion industry. Don’t cry though. There is an easier route that allows you to get a glimpse of the action. Visit on the web, Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week 2008.

This concludes perhaps the gayest post I’ve ever written! I hope my female readers are happy now. I think my next post should be extremely manly in content, to overcompensate for all my girly talk lately. I’m thinking I’ll post about raw cuts of meat, ball sweat and big titties. Yeah, that sounds manly enough.

Have The Carpet Match The Drapes

Bottled blondes take note because the gig is up! You may have your girlfriends fooled by telling them you are a natural blonde, but we guys know the truth. And just how do we discover that truth? Well I shouldn’t need to explain that, but sooner or later, we will find out whether the carpet matches the drapes. Of course if you have a silky, smooth, hair-free playing field (mmm), I’ll just have to take your word for it that it matches, not that I really care if it matches or not. I’m too focused on "other activities" to be concerned if you are a few shades off. Now for those of you who have 70s bush, I’m not even speaking to you because you should be ashamed. Cleanup the hedge. Buzz it down. Wax it up. Install a landing strip. Anything. Just go groom! I’m a guy and I even manscape. I know, I know. TMI.

I thought I had seen it all, until I saw an ad for pubic hair dye on a NYC subway. (You just gotta love NYC for endless blogging material.) "Betty Beauty" is the name of the company manufacturing the pubic hair dye. They claim they are "color for the hair down there" and they are boldly going where no color has ever gone before. Apparently it’s been around for 2 years, but this is the first time I ever heard of it. Then again, I no longer subscribe to Pubic Hair Weekly magazine – hottest trends in little curly hair fashion.

Intimate grooming products are not normally advertised on the subway, but the ads make only oblique references to pubic hair. The ad shows boxes (no pun intended) of the product in the five available colors - black, blond, auburn, brown and "fun"...AKA hot pink. So if you are a redhead and you are tired of the verbal abuse of being called a "fire crotch", you don’t have to take it anymore. You can choose to be any color you like from jet black to platinum blonde! No matter what color you choose, each box (again, no pun intended) has a sketched torso with a wispy, carefully placed triangle in the relevant color. The ad campaign reflects the balance between noting the growing attention to grooming a particularly private area of the body and the desire to avoid the use of any language that could be interpreted as crude or misogynistic. (I know, I just used a big word, but go look it up if you don't know what it means.)

"We knew we wanted a catchy tag line that wasn’t going to be too risqué, but would make it acceptable," said Nancy Jarecki, the founder of the company. Ms. Jarecki said she was inspired to create Betty Beauty in 2006, after seeing the small sample bags of coloring given out at salons in Rome so women could make their hair "match" in the privacy of their homes. Perhaps this is how the question "does the carpet match the drapes" came about?

As for the other question on some of your minds, the company says it doesn't come off if you engage in any sort of physical activity. And yes, Betty is edible. Good to know!

Hey, is anyone else thinking I should have a blog label/category titled Va-Jay-Jay? I seem to be posting about a woman's naughty place an awful lot lately. Sorry, I can't help it. It's my favorite place to visit and stay awhile so I tend to write about things I love. I say this as I'm devouring a fresh ripened peach whose juice just hit my laptop keyboard. Coincidence? I think not.

You Know You’re Fat When You Can’t Find Your Penis

You have probably already heard about the World’s Fattest Kitty-Kat, nicknamed "Princess Chunk". The media has been swarming this pussy with photographs and interviews. Yes, interviews. Now I don’t know exactly how you interview a cat, but apparently it’s being done. The thing is, "Princess Chunk" isn’t really a princess at all. You see, he is actually a she. So it should be "Prince Chunk". Everyone just thought the 44 pound cat, whose real name is "Powder, was a she because they couldn’t find a penis. Apparently this cat is so morbidly obese that his wiener actually disappeared under his giant belly and fat rolls! Now that’s just embarrassing, but in the cat’s defense, it’s not really his fault. He wasn’t the one prying open can after can of Fancy Feast. Is overindulging your pet a case of animal cruelty? Some would say yes. I would say yes, depending on how fat we are talking. Keep in mind a normal, healthy cat should weigh 10-12 lbs. This cat tips the scales at 4x that size! He sports a FUPA like no other feline and it has earned him a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records.

This Jersey kitty was recently given up, due to the fact that the owner could no longer afford to feed him - no joke. The shelter in which "Powder" was given to received over 400 applications from people looking to adopt the chubby lil’ guy. I’m happy to report that he now has a new Mommy and Daddy, as well as a new home. Rumor has it that he may suffer from a thyroid problem which has led to him being so overweight. Or it could just be the fact that he eats too freaking much and sleeps 22 hours a day. Think that has anything to do with it? Now before anyone sends me hate mail and thinks I’m picking on fat cats, let me make it clear that I too have a soft spot in my heart for fat cats.

You see, when I was a teenager, I rescued a newborn kitten out of the jaws of our family dog and nursed it. Everyone told me it was going to die since it was so young and desperately needed its mother. However, I wasn’t hearing that. All of his littermates were murdered and the mother of the stray kittens was nowhere to be found. So it was up to me to play "mother cat". I began feeding him via an eye-dropper and eventually moved up to a baby bottle. Around the clock I cared for him, including all hours of the night. I’m more of a dog lover than a cat lover, but it was hard not to fall in love just a little bit. When he turned 8-weeks-old, I convinced my sister he would make the perfect pet for her. Today he is 22lbs! We are convinced it was all that extra TLC he was given early in life, all the extra nutrients that got him to his fighting weight.

Most cats aren’t known for having huge schlongs, so I suppose we shouldn’t really poke fun at a fat cat’s penis being virtually non-existent. However, doctors say that for every 35lbs you lose, you gain an inch to your penis! Ok, that rule probably only applies to men and not cats, but still. An inch for every 35lbs you drop? Something tells me that is more of an optical illusion than actual growth. Think about it. Cut back on your FUPA and tell me what you find. And seriously, if you are looking down and you can’t see your own penis, you’ve got major problems! Put the Twinkie down!

I think I’m going to send "Powder" my ab workout. Then not only will he be able to see his penis, but before he knows it, he too will be tucking his cock in his sock. That’s just how a fat cat should roll and soon he will have two tails to sway. Powder, fat or small, you're a badass cat and don't let anyone tell you different.

10 Great Uses For Vodka, Other Than Drinking It

Open up my freezer and there you shall find her, vodka, chilled for your pleasure. (Right next to the frozen push-up pops. And yes, I’m a giant child.) If you know me, then you know my favorite drink of choice is vodka. Vodka on the rocks. Vodka in a mix. Vodka anything will do, but not the cheap stuff, that will make your head pound like a drummer boy marching across your skull in the morning! Grey Goose and Sky are about as cheap of vodka that I will touch. When it comes to vodka, the smoother the better I say. But did you know that vodka has so many more useful purposes than turning the butterface at the end of the bar into a 10? Vodka also has a long history of use as medicine, having been sold by druggists to cure everything from infertility to colic and the plague! While some of those historic promoters were half-cocked, it's true that vodka has a wide range of potential uses beyond serving as a relaxer and social lubricant. Why would you want to do anything else with vodka but drink it? It is widely available, effective and less toxic than many of the chemical alternatives you might use for these tasks.

Oh how I love vodka, let me count the ways...

1. Defeat Poison Ivy
For many, one of the hazards of enjoying the great outdoors is an encounter with poison ivy, oak or sumac. It can lead to a nasty, long-lasting rash. Unfortunately, thanks to global warming, the plants are spreading. Many people have reported that if they immediately pour vodka over an area that has contacted poison ivy, the alcohol will wash away the culprit urushiol oil and they won't experience an uncomfortable reaction. Some have said that the vodka needs to be at least 100 proof to work. Others have argued that straight rubbing alcohol works better, but I’m guessing you may not have that as handy at your average drunken backyard BBQ.

2. Freshen Laundry
Keep your clothes smelling fresher with vodka! Simply spritz your duds with the stuff, then hang to dry in a well-ventilated area. (Do a spot-test first to be safe.) Vodka kills odor-causing bacteria, but doesn't leave a scent when dry. Tada!

3. Get Your Shine On
It's easy to get your chrome, glass and porcelain fixtures shining like the top of the Chrysler Building. Guess what does the trick? Ah, vodka, duh. Moisten a soft, clean cloth with vodka, then apply a little elbow grease. Bling, bling, bitch!

4. Preserve Flowers
If vodka can help you find love, then it can also help you preserve it...or at least the symbols of it. Add a few drops of vodka and a teaspoon of sugar to the water in your flower vase. It should help keep your flowers fresh longer. Change out the mixture with fresh ingredients daily.

5. Do Battle with Insects
Unless you are intent on proving how "hardcore" you are, or have a bizarre fetish, you probably don't enjoy getting feasted on by insects. Most of us are pretty sure we don't want to take the risk of spraying ourselves in the face with poisonous bug killers. So who knew that vodka can kill pesky insects, as well as nagging doubts at the bar? Pour a little of the saucy spirit in a spray bottle and squirt on the little buggers, or yourself as a repellent. Of course, DO NOT attempt this at a bar because dousing yourself in vodka will only cause the alcoholic sitting adjacent to lick you! Remember, we are looking for a pest repellent, not an attractant.

6. Soothe Jellyfish Stings
Jellyfish are fascinating, beautiful sea creatures. But their stingers can pack a powerful, painful punch. For vegetarians and others who don't travel with meat tenderizer (or who don't feel comfortable asking friends to, um, relieve the pain) take heart. Vodka can also disinfect and alleviate some of the bite of a jellyfish sting.

7. Get Great, Shiny Hair
Vodka doesn't just make you think people look prettier. It actually can make people prettier. Try this remedy for healthier, lush hair: Add a jigger of vodka to a 12-ounce bottle of shampoo. Lather, rinse and repeat if needed.

8. Clean Away Mold
Got mold? The stuff spreads easily and can severely diminish indoor air quality. But instead of harsh chemical sprays, try filling a recycled spray bottle with some bottom-shelf vodka. Spritz on, then let sit for 15 minutes. Scrub away with an old toothbrush (your significant other’s should work just fine).

9. Make a Soothing Tincture
Do you find the scent of lavender soothing? Did you know that herbalists have used it for generations to ease aches and pains? Here's a fun DIY tip: Fill a clean glass jar with fresh lavender flowers, then top off with pilsner vodka. Seal the lid tightly and place in the sun for 3 days (same idea as making sun tea). Strain the resulting liquid through a coffee filter and poof! You have a homemade tincture to rub into aches and pains. You can pour into smaller bottles, decorate them and give them as unique gifts. How Martha Stewart-ish!

10. Ease a Toothache
Got a toothache? Your first priority should be to see a dentist. But sometimes you can't get an appointment right away or you’re told it will just have to heal on its own. In that case, try swishing a shot of vodka over the affected area. It can help disinfect and should numb some of the pain in your gums. Now if you can resist swallowing the shot of vodka, you’re a better man than me. (And before anyone cracks a "spit or swallow joke", let me just say I do neither, but I do prefer a girl who swallows. I know, TMI. TMI.)

I just want to make it clear to everyone that no vodka was hurt while compiling the tips for this post. Personally, I have never used vodka for anything other than drinking purposes. And as useful as all these tips are, I probably still won’t ever use vodka for anything other than achieving a good buzz or a complete blackout. I have simply too much respect for alcohol, especially top-shelf vodka, and I just can’t bring myself to pouring it over a jellyfish sting. Besides, that’s what piss is for. Don’t waste vodka for a job that urine can easily tackle.

Throwing Yourself At Men, Literally

Ahh, the single life. The art of being a bachelor or bachelorette. It’s all about meeting someone. Flirting. Dating. Hooking up. Breaking up. And maybe, just maybe, somewhere in there you will find yourself in a real relationship and possibly fall in love. I’ve been on both ends, approaching a woman and having a woman approach me. I can’t say I prefer one way over another, but I can say that I do enjoy a woman making the first move. It’s refreshing. It takes the pressure off. Quite simply, it’s very flattering. Who wouldn’t enjoy that? But there is a line that needs drawn. There is a difference between hitting on someone and being a super freak! Perfect example, "naked photo girl", that is what my friends and I refer to her as.

Notice the hands stuffed firmly in his pockets. This dude clearly isn’t interested in catching her.
Be cautious when throwing yourself at men. A warm reception is never guaranteed.

She’s the girl who a few years ago made very innocent, nondescript conversation with me in a club. Our chit-chat only lasted a couple minutes, but as I went to leave, she ran her hand down my arm and said it was nice meeting me. Perfectly normal behavior, right? Well next thing I know she stuffs something into the front pocket of my jeans and without a word, she turns around and walks away. At first I think it’s probably her number, but the paper feels pokey (insert your own pokey pants joke here). Then I think it’s a condom, but that seems odd because why would she give me that while departing? I decide to reach in my pocket and see what it is. I find myself pulling out a naked photo of her in a very graphic and suggestive position. On the back of the photo, written with a Sharpie, is her name and number. I feel somewhat turned on, but at the same time grossed out. Think about it. I’m sure I’m not the first guy she’s done this to. Most people don’t carry around naked photos of themselves and hand them out at will, unless maybe you are a hooker or an aspiring hooker? Or maybe she was an undercover cop throwing out the bait and waiting for a bite. Whatever the case may be, her method of coming on to me was just a tad over forward. I never called her, but I did keep the photo.

So how far would you go to get the attention of a certain guy? Would you be subtle and just make eye contact while shooting him a sexy smile across a crowded room? Or would you show no restraint and no shame and literally throw yourself at him? Throw yourself at him so strongly that he has no other choice than to open his arms and accept your advances...or be pummeled to the floor.

Meet Lilly McElroy, an artist who takes photographs of herself throwing herself at men. She takes things literally and can't help being clumsy. As a performative photographer, McElroy seems to have a lot of fun making refreshingly spontaneous pictures. The work she produces is a cross between physical comedy and earnest confessional. She throws her whole body into it and often leads with her chest. There are videos of her hugging strangers without asking their permission and photographs of her literally throwing herself at men. The gestures that Lilly performs for the camera are simultaneously loving and cruel. They are an attempt to discuss the desire and difficulty involved in making a connection. When asked to explain the procedure behind her photographs, this is what she said...

"I started the project by placing an ad on Craigslist looking for men who would meet me at bars blind date style and let me literally throw myself at them. This worked fairly well, but limited the number of photos I could take. Now, I go to bars with a friend/photographer and approach men who are physically larger than I am. I ask them if I can literally throw myself at them. If they say yes, I have myself photographed doing it and buy them a drink afterwards. If it seems like they want to hang out, I'll have a drink as well. Sometimes we talk about the project and sometimes we just chat. I don't have a specific set up for the photos. I just want them to look as much like snap shots or party pics as possible."

The photographs she produces while trying to interact, acknowledge the possibility of failure – that someone might not catch her, that a connection might not be made. It is that possibility that keeps things interesting. In the end, Lilly wants to make the viewer laugh, but she wants them to understand there is more at stake, that everyone is implicated including her.

Apart from all the heavy gender-socio-dynamo analysis these images inspire, they're also just fun to look at. See for yourself at www.LillyMcElroy.com

I’m An Angry Little Boy

I’m an angry little boy. I feel like spitting off a bridge, punching a pillow and kicking a puppy! Ok, kicking a puppy is going a little too far, especially considering my puppy is the best part of my every day. Although, I am angry. I literally stomped my foot, crossed my arms in defiance and began immediately pouting. I’ll admit it, sometimes I can be a bit of a child. I don’t like it when things break, especially when it’s not my fault. I did absolutely nothing to cause it to happen, but it happened. My barely 3 month old $500 PS3 system broke! Dead. Fried. Ca-put. (Is that even a word? I think my Mother made it up.)

To add further insult to injury and aggravate me even more, Sony's pissy attitude about the whole thing is simply unacceptable. This same thing has happened to literally thousands of other people and NOTHING has been done to prevent the problem, nor has ANY type of apology been given. As someone who runs his own company, this is just unbelievable to me. The #1 rule in any business is that you bend over backwards to please the customer. Obviously Sony doesn’t get that and is guilty of some very poor, poor business practices.

Seriously, I’m really fucking pissed off! Excuse my language. I’ve discovered even though I’ve lost my temper like a little boy, I have been cursing like a grown man. After buying several games, an extra wireless controller and most recently a bluetooth headset for online gaming...I now have over a grand of worthless PS3 crap sitting in my living room entertainment center collecting dust. If that’s not bad enough, in the last week or so I’ve become addicted, yes addicted, to Call Of Duty 4. If you don’t know what that is, then you simply won’t be able to understand how emotionally distraught I am at the moment. I must have my fix!

Really though, the worst part is that when the hard drive crashed in my PS3, it took ALL the data with it! All the hours I spent playing, correction, the hours of my life I wasted playing. All the stats, demos, downloads, career saves, all of it gone! Unrecoverable and lost forever! This is the point that I would begin crying if I was a girl, but I’m not. I’m an angry little boy so I will begin pouting like one instead.

To make a long and painful story short, Best Buy basically said F-U when I tried to return my PS3. They told me it was Sony’s problem and they would have to deal with it. So after 2 phone calls to Sony, where I sat on hold for a good 30 minutes each time, I’m informed that I will have to ship it back to them. Once they receive it, they won't even attempt to recover the data I lost. They just toss it in the trash with a "oh well, too bad, so sad" attitude. I felt like reaching thru the phone and beating the shit out of the tech support woman, beating her with my dead PS3.

Now granted, I am a tech savvy guy and I could go out and buy a new hard drive, open up the system and see if there is anything else that needs repaired, but why should I? I shouldn't have to put another dime out! This is Sony's fault so it should be their doing to correct the problem in a timely manner. They will send me out a new PS3 system, which is good, but it will take up to a month to receive it! A month? A month! I’m going to go clinically insane on every cold and rainy lazy Sunday afternoon. What is a boy to do? On second thought, I think I will turn into a girl, curl up in the fetal position and cry the hours away.

Someone please comfort me, because if these wireless controllers actually had cords, I would be forced to end my life with one right now.

Sex And The City, The Movie Is Here At Last!

Hello, Lovers! Grab yourself a Flirtini, call your girlfriends and press play to find out what Carrie & Co. have been up to all these months while they weren't busy clogging up the sidewalks and becoming New York's biggest tourist attraction. The crew has wrapped up shooting for the movie and in May of 2008, you can see it all play out on the big screen, finally! Its official, the first Sex And The City Movie trailer is here.

www.SexAndTheCityMovie.com

Turns out we'll be seeing a lot of the same 'ol shenanigans in theaters as on TV. Clothes, shoes, shopping, talking, drinking, dating...and of course sex. Personally, I’m hoping there will be plenty of sex. According to the 39 second teaser, "friendship never goes out of style"…and neither has my love for the Sex And The City girls.

I know it’s not very manly to admit, but I love, love, LOVED that HBO show! Don’t believe me, then just keep in mind that I eat at The City Bakery just because it is the home of The Big Brownie – Carrie Bradshaw’s favorite sinful treat. Truth be told, I’m as excited as any girl would be that the movie is coming out. Is that gay? It probably is, but I don’t care. So what if I’m the only straight dude in a theater full of chicks. I’m comfortable with my meterosexual status. And I just may be the first “girl” in line for the premier in 5 months.

Related posts of interest…

• 11/28/06 – The City Bakery, In Search Of The BIG Brownie
• 2/8/06 - Thinking With The Right Head

Condom Fashion Faux Pas

China's manufacturing industry has been repeatedly tarnished this year by a slew of scandals involving shoddy or dangerous goods made for both domestic and foreign markets. So what I’m about to say shouldn’t come as shock, or maybe it will. In the latest example of potentially harmful Chinese-made products, used condoms are being recycled into hair bands. The rubber hair bands have been found in local markets and beauty salons in southern China. Usually recycling anything is considered a good thing, but not in this case. Basically, what was once worn on Lu’s wang, is now used to pull back your bangs!

Let’s state the obvious, besides this being completely disgusting, it’s also highly dangerous as it threatens to spread sexually-transmittable diseases that condoms were originally meant to prevent. Despite being recycled, the hair bands could still contain bacteria and viruses. Therefore people could be infected with AIDS, genital warts or other diseases if they hold the rubber bands in their mouths while styling their hair. (And I just lost my appetite.)

Surprisingly, consumers don’t seem to care if their health is threatened or if the Chinese government states that recycling condoms is illegal. In fact, sales are up! These cheap and colorful rubber bands and hair ties continue to sell well. A bag of 10 of the recycled bands sells for just 25 fen (3 cents), much cheaper than others on the market, which accounts for their popularity.

This may be the first time we have seen used condoms integrated into the fashion world. However, it wasn’t long ago that designers were creating entire clothing lines out of new condoms...and we will leave that story and photo gallery for a future blog post.

iArt

Ever wonder what an exploded iPod would look like incased in a giant block of ice? Probably not, but now you don’t have to wonder anymore (even if you never wondered in the first place). The iPod has become the Kleenex of the mp3 players and despite its rather subtle cosmetic facelifts thru the years, the iPod has never looked this cool!

This rather refreshing view was created by dissecting an iPod and dumping resin all over it. I refer to it as “iArt”. And this isn’t just for pretty, it’s fully functional too. The internals of the dock are embedded on the bottom. This allows you to control it, charge it and of course listen to it. The Legos attached to the bottom act as support legs for the standing cube.

The little bubbles you see actually occurred by accident. Originally the artist intended for the piece to be smooth and flawless like glass. However, the air pockets found their way in during a mistake pour of resin. Personally, I like the serendipitous addition.

See more of this artist’s work at BillyChasen.com

Crocs Breed With Uggs = Cruggs?

Ok, so I’m not a fashion expert, that’s my sister’s field. However, I do know when a woman is well dressed. And trust me, she’s never wearing Uggs, Crocs or Cruggs. A few years ago the term “fugly” was coined. Fugly is the product of combining f*cking and ugly. When something is f*cking ugly, it’s “fugly”, which is the best word I know to describe this…

The only thing in the world I hate more than Crocs are Uggs. Uggs, quite simply, are ugly. It’s how I feel they got the name Uggs, short for ugly. They are so hideous that I would be forced to breakup with a girl if I discovered she owned a pair. If you don’t know what Uggs are after all these years, then you will need to ask someone because frankly, I can’t stomach describing them. Yes, they are that bad. I think I threw up a little in my mouth just mentioning them. Honestly, I don’t understand why the fashion police haven’t taken the necessary measures to arrest all those who have bought Uggs and stop all those who may THINK of buying Uggs. If you ask me, the illegal substances (Uggs boots) should be banned worldwide.

Now there is good news and bad news. First the good news. To my knowledge, Uggs sales are down. They are no longer in Vogue. Although to many, they were never fashionable to begin with. I hardly ever see them on the streets anymore and that definitely makes me happy. My eyes can finally stop bleeding. However, just as I was cheering the death of Uggs, along comes the Crocs, those rubbery looking gardening shoes. Apparently they are very comfy, but when has any girl choosen comfort over fashion? Think about it. Stilettos were made for a reason. They can’t be comfortable, but they sure are sexy as hell and attract men like magnets! Whereas Crocs are comfy, but have men screaming and running in the opposite direction. I ask you, which scenario would you rather have occur?

Let me paint a clearer picture for you, ladies. Think back to college when you sat down in class, looked over to your left and realized the cutest guy was seated right next to you. How excited you were! You smile, he smiles back. You let your eyes wonder, dropping over his body where they eventually bulge out of your skull and hit the floor when you see what’s happening south of his ankles. That’s right, he is wearing the official lesbian footwear – the original Birkenstock sandals with the thick gray wool hiking socks. Nothing says fashion plate like sandals and wool socks, right? And if I’m not mistaken, isn’t the point of wearing sandals to let your feet breathe? And isn’t the point of wearing wool sock to keep air from reaching your toes? When you combine sandals and wool socks, you’re only confusing the hell out of your feet! I recall a few dudes who decided to mix it up a bit and pair their black Adidas sandals with their white gym socks. Always a real “girl getter” look as well. I suppose in college everyone gets a “sloppy card” – sloopy dresser, sloppy drunk, sloppy kisser, sloppy seconds. Maybe back then your game was good enough that you could pass with the sloppy card, but your college days are over. Welcome to the real world. In the real world, sloppy doesn’t get you laid.

It seems there is a cold hard reality that we must all face, the birth of Cruggs. Crocs and Uggs have been bred together to bring us Cruggs. Fulgy indeed. It was only a matter of time before the two met, fucked fugly style and spawned this vile demon bastard footwear. Cruggs were recently spotted in a Houston store window where I’m sure they set off a chain reaction of uncontrollable vomiting among window shoppers. I don't know how much Cruggs are selling for, but I do know that owning a single pair will cost you your dignity. They will also leave you feeling sexually frustrated because it’s certain you won’t be getting any as long as you strutting your stuff in Cruggs.

I’m actually looking forward to Fall, when all the cute girls will be stepping out in sexy knee-high leather boots with the thin little heals. Mmm, my favorite! But for now while the weather is still warm, I say if you want comfort, go with flip flops. After all, what goes best with flip flops? A bikini. And remember for a bikini, less is best. Bless you string bikini and flip flop ensemble. Bless you.

***NOTE***
This post has been sponsored by the “Just Say No To Cruggs” campaign. Remember, Hugs Not Cruggs.

You’re Hotter When You Don’t Talk

Let’s face it, we can’t always have it all. A girl with great looks AND brains? Truth is, those girls are few and far between…and usually taken. I’ve dated girls before that were great to look at, but had little to offer in terms of stimulating dinner conversation. Usually I would discover this midway thru appetizers. I quickly realized that there really was nothing below the surface. The type of girl you would be proud to show-off to your guy buddies, but embarrassed to introduce to your female friends. Some say beauty is only skin deep and over time that beauty fades, but dumb is forever. That’s probably true, but at 18, Miss Teen South Carolina has many years before her beauty betrays her. Besides, she’s in a BEATUTY pageant, not a Spelling Bee. Who really cares if she can’t respond to a simple question with just the smallest amount of intelligence, right? Well apparently the entire world cares or at least the entire web is getting a good belly laugh out of this.

WARNING!
Watching this may hurt your brain.
(We already know hers has been suffering for nearly 2 decades now.)

Q: Recent polls have shown that a fifth of Americans cannot locate the U.S. on a world map. Why do you think this is?

A: I can’t repeat her answer as it would actually make me stupider for uttering such scatterbrained nonsense. Therefore I leave you the video clip of her response, in its entirety, unfortunately.

I have a question, can anyone tell me where "Such As" is locatetd on a map? Is it part of the Asian countries? I'm confused now too. This is one of those times when “Saved By The Bell boy” Mario Lopez should of stepped aside and let me host because I would of said…"Thanks Miss Teen South Carolina. And without a doubt I can say, thanks to you we are all now dumber for listening to that." However, I give props to Mario for not busting out and laughing in her face. I would have had a hard time composing myself. I love how the "time is up bell" saves her from her own pain...and ours. Maybe she’s just one of those girls we should admire like we do small children. Onlookers could pass by and ask “does she talk?” My response would be “not if I can help it, I actually prefer she didn’t.” Just like children, maybe some pretty girls should just be seen and not heard?

Remarkably, Miss Teen South Carolina is ready for college. Rumor has it that she’s choosing to be a Graphic Design major. Whew, I’m glad she doesn’t want to major in geography. Actually, on second thought, it might not be bad for her to brush up maps. Ok, who are we kidding? She could probably brush up on every subject! Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for improving upon one's weaknesses. But there comes a point when you have to take a good long hard look at yourself in the mirror and come to grips with reality. The reality is this – she’s hot, she’s not smart. She needs to just focus on her hotness, embrace it and stop trying to play the “I have looks AND brains” card. It’s not working for you, sweetheart. You’re more like a Jessica Simpson, much cuter when you don’t speak. Stick to that rule and it will be smooth sailing for you in life. Trust me on this. After all, you did place 3rd in the Miss Teen USA pagent, despite not being able to form a single sentence that made any sense. Proof that Americans don't give a shit if a pretty girl is dumb.

SIDE NOTE: I do realize the girl is young and it was her first time on national television. That would make anyone nervous. So if all that gibberish was just nerves talking, than I suppose I can understand that. In fact, I even forgive her for speaking moron. After all, she’s hot so we all know society will never hold anything against a hot chick. And by the way Miss Teen South Carolina, if you need to cry right now, I’m offering up my shoulder for condolences…as I’m sure every other heterosexual man in America is too.

McDonald’s McCardiac

From the pages of "That’s Just Fucking Disgusting!" comes the Monster Mac. It's a monster-sized McDonald's hamburger named "The Double Pounder" or as I refer to it "Heart Attack On A Plate". Now brace yourself when I say this, it is stuffed with up to 8 meat patties and 9 slices of cheese! (My stomach is starting to turn, for the worse.) As if Americans weren’t fat enough already…but wait, this burger isn’t being offered in the States. It’s being offered to Aussies! Hmm. Australia, are you trying to take away America’s coveted Fattest Country title belt? I’ll have you know we will put up a good fight! We will come out swinging with the heavy hitters. And believe me, there are enough morbidly obese fighters here than you care to know about. We take pride in the fact that some Americans allow themselves to get so chubby that they actually need a wheelchair to cart their immobile ass into McDonald’s. Sad, but true.

This month is the 40th anniversary of the Big Mac and what a better way for McDonald’s to celebrate than introducing a new artery clogging masterpiece. Just to give you an idea, the Double Pounder is the equivalent of more than 3 days' worth of fat for a grown man! It contains over 100 grams of fat and over 2,100 calories. That’s about the equivalent of 5 Pizza Hut deep-pan Hawaiian pizzas. Nutritionists are describing the double pounder as "obscene" and "a heart attack waiting to happen".

At about $18, it is not listed on the menu, nor under the nutritional information. However, that hasn’t stopped this burger from getting attention. In fact, it has developed a cult following. It’s become a challenge for teenagers after a video was posted online of a 17-year-old boy ploughing his way through the burger at a McDonald's restaurant. (I’ll spare you the video clip. Just trust me, it’s nauseating to even watch, let alone actually attempt to eat.)

McDonald’s is the kind of place that you can almost HEAR yourself getting fatter when they take your order. Now thanks to the Double Pounder, you can almost hear the Grim Reaper creeping in as your heart comes to an abrupt halt when you say "I’ll take a Double Pounder combo meal…and go ahead and Super-Size that."

• Related post of interest 5/11/05 Super Size Me

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