Sunday, May 29, 2005

Classy

Back in the day, I belonged to a gay volleyball league. One night between matches, I overheard two teammates talking. Frank, a tall, craggy-faced man with a buzzcut, was telling John, a short, stubby man who was the captain of my team, about a video he had watched the night before.
"John, I rented this movie called Gymnastikos last night. It was an all-nude gymnastics video."
John grinned. "So you're telling me you watched a porno."
"Heavens no!" Frank exclaimed. "It wasn't like that at all. Oh, you should have seen it. Good lighting, beautiful music, gorgeous gymnasts."
Frank leaned in. He dropped his wrist and let his index finger graze the top of John's forearm. His lips pursed momentarily. "Girl, it was classy."
To this day, I can't hear that word without thinking of Frank and John.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Hola, mis amigos! After four days, thirty five hours of driving, one triathlon and a mouthful of stitches later, I'm back. The stitches are not due to the triathlon but instead to this guy, to whom I have given many thousands of dollars over the years.
The triathlon was, on the whole, successful. I placed 54th out of 91 contestants, which is by far my best showing at a multi-sport race. I had strong swim and bike legs, but the run leg nearly killed me. The course description did not make the run look difficult, and at five miles it was well within my range. I assume that the hot (85 degrees), dry (seven percent humidity) and high (6300 feet) conditions were the culprit. Fortunately for me, everybody else dogged on the run as well, so I didn't lose much (if any) ground.
As for Arizona, the state looks fantastic. After a number of drought years, this winter was wet. As a result, green grass and standing water are everywhere.
My home state, God bless it, is a little bit redneck. It's a land of ATVs, no helmet laws, trucks and mustaches. Lord, how Arizonans love mustaches. Granted, I only spent time in rural Arizona, so Phoenix and Tucson may be different, but one out of every three or four guys sported a mustache. Here in SF, I can't remember the last time I saw a guy with a mustache, even ironic and/or cop fetish ones. My roommate tells me that a number of guys at his gym have them, but I don't believe him.

Official Race Results Here

Thursday, May 19, 2005

MSN Is On Crack

Far be it from me to perpetuate the tired meme of reporting on wacky search terms used to find one's site, but PLEASE, MSN is on crack.

I have no idea why one would search MSN for information on "enthusiastic douchers." Google is obviously a much better venue for such a search. What's more, I can't fathom why MSN would return only two hits, one of which was a flippant piece of web trash I wrote (last JUNE) about Bill Gates, who said that he was "enthusiastic about blogging." Until 90 seconds ago, I have never even written the word "doucher." Nigga please, the word is "douchebag."

(sigh)

Amateurs.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

There is another interesting article in the most recent issue of the New Yorker about the rise in HIV infection rates among gay men. While I have issues with the shrill, moralizing overtones of the article (is it really necessary to describe online hookup sites as "numbingly similar," where the ads "couldn't be more explicit?"), the article provides an interesting thesis, which is this: The rise of HIV infection rates is due to the perfect storm of rising amphetamine use and online hookup sites. In other words, HIV is on the rise because users of crystal (which increases libido and decreases inhibitions) can find easy, anonymous hookups online.

While some statistics are simply shocking (the article reports that the number of gay men who use condoms "regularly" is below fifty percent, to which I ask: Who are you people?), the most interesting statistic to me is that the average age of newly-infected men in San Francisco is 40.

Why is that? I would have expected the average age to be lower. If anything, I would have expected that the rates of drug use and use of online hookup sites would be greater for younger men than for older men. Is it that younger men have sex or use drugs less? Is it that younger men tend to have sex with HIV-positive men less than older men (assuming (1) that men hook up with people near their age more often than with men either significantly older or younger than they, and (2) that the incidence of HIV is greater for older men than younger men (as a residual effect of HIV infections in the '80s and '90s))? Is it part of a "gay man's midlife crisis," where older men embrace the fast life of sex and drugs to reclaim their youth? Or is it simply that older men get tired of being good all the time?

Monday, May 16, 2005

No Matter How Much I Game The Answers, San Francisco Never Shows Up

American Cities That Best Fit You:

70% Denver
65% Austin
60% Atlanta
60% Las Vegas
55% Honolulu

Saturday, May 14, 2005

Hey, bitches. It's me again.
Remember a couple of days ago when we had a little talk about courtesy? Seems like that lesson didn't stick. Now I realize that I live at the end of a series of de facto one-lane streets. And I also realize that the average driver has little experience driving on such streets. However, when I do the courteous thing (remember that word, kids!) and pull over to let you through, do not continue to yap distractedly on your cell phone as you drive down the street. Muster the energy to raise your four fingers off the steering wheel and wave them a bit. It's something I like to call "thanking someone." You should try it sometime.

Friday, May 13, 2005

I frippin' LOVE this: I Love The '30s

Thursday, May 12, 2005

OK, bitches. I've had it up to here with you. Stop pulling out in front of me at the last minute. You're not all brain surgeons late for an operation. I am not some dawdling octogenarian whom you'll be stuck behind forever. I'm a typical speeding Bay Area driver, JUST LIKE YOU. You'll get to your booty call in plenty of time, even if you do show some common courtesy and turn AFTER the oncoming traffic has passed. You remember courtesy, don't you? It's that thing your mama never taught you. So step off.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

I wish I had more time to blog, but the Deuces Wild Xterra is coming up quickly, and my free time is spent training.

I got my bike back from the shop yesterday. After years of deferred maintenance, the entire rear wheel was on the verge of collapse: chewed-up spokes, a gummy rear hub, etc. However, after parting with a small sack of ducats, I have a shiny, brand new rear tire. Mavic 317 rim, XT hub, new cassette and chain. Only the tire and inner tube were retained, and both are fairly new themselves. (Note: WTB WeirWolf 2.1s KICK ASS!)

My blog list is hopelessly out of date, and one day (probably the same day I update my 401(k) investment options) I'll update it. Rest assured, all y'all are feeling my blog love.

One last note: In case you're worrying that I'm not getting my gay on enough, don't. Last night my roommate and I listened to Dusty Springfield's Greatest Hits and invented videos for each song. On the sad songs, she was usually walking alone through Central Park during the fall. On the happy songs, she was backed by a horn section in matching powder blue suits. Go-go boots featured prominently in each video.

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On the Jukebox: spoon - the two sides of monsieur valentine; dump - pop life; cordouroy - ponytail; the kinks - rock and roll fantasy; dusty springfield - spooky

Friday, May 06, 2005

What Sexy Isn't



Note to self: Trying to eliminate farmer's tan by wearing sleeveless T-shirt = Not a good idea.

Thursday, May 05, 2005



so i narrowly escaped a vicious mauling by a mangy anklebiter yesterday. the little fucker (bless his heart) lunged at me as i passed. he missed my leg but got a firm grip on my pants. good thing he was being walked by an 80-year-old man or else i would have drop-kicked that sucker into the next county.

i'm not really angry about it, though. i need new pants anyway.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Words I never imagined I'd say: Get off my knife, you fucking piece of butter! (said last night to piece of butter that refused to move from knife to bagel)
I must be the only blogger who hasn't weighed in on the Pope. But that's because I was raised an Episcopalian, and I don't believe in all that popish nonsense.

So, to make up for my Pope-less posts, I give you this:

Big Cock Bible

And who can forget this:

Extreme Bible Stories