TRICK AND/OR TREAT!

Well, Hello There, Ladies!
Originally uploaded by Wanda Wisdom.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, everybody! Check out Wanda Wisdom's get-up! This just proves that you're never too old to enjoy the holidays.

I'm going trick-or-treating with my cousins' kid tonight... He's two years old, and even though he picked out his little bear costume on his own, for some reason, he's been telling people he's going to be a giraffe... (And yes, he understands the difference-he's an animal enthusiast). Hey, I'm not gonna argue with him.

IT DRIVES ME CRAZY

Now, I'm not going to pretend my car is my prize possession, pride and joy, or anything more than what it is: my car. Living in SoCal, as I do, having a car is important. Expensive at times, but important.

My car isn't a status symbol, like an S.U.V., classic car or luxury automobile. And it isn't a social statement, like those hybrid things.

I like my ride just fine, but I'm not obsessed with it -- a little ding in the door after my trip to the mall? No sweat.

I wash it regularly, change the oil every 3 months and make sure to fill 'er up with gas before I hit the 1/4 tank level. I even carry window cleaner and paper towels in the trunk, so I'll always have a clear view of the road (safety first, after all).

But I never realized how attached I was until last week... when some jerk-offs tried to steal it. The police say it was one of five cars in my area that were broken into. They tried to jack my stereo, but only ended up breaking it. My heart sank, as I looked at my poor, violated dashboard. And then, something caught my eye: the ignition core was missing. Gone.

I won't launch into how much this sucks, or how lame my insurance provider is acting. I won't complain about how long it is taking to fix, or how much it is going to cost. (Cause I just have all this extra cash to go out and get me a new car, y'know!) I'm not going to bitch the luck I've been having this year, and you won't see me feeling sorry for myself, not even for a minute.

"See, the luck I've had, can make a good man turn bad..."

But I have to write about something...

PULL UP TO THE BUMPER, BABY...

If you've never seen former Falcon exclusive Brad Patton in action, then you're really missing out. It means you haven't seen his amazing, tanned and toned body glisten, getting wetter with each pump of his solid, tree-trunk-sized cock... and it means you haven't seen the pair of perfectly sculpted legs leading up to an ass that defies description. If I could sit down with God and have him design me the perfect ass, this would be it.

Check out his site, or catch him in his next flick, Beyond Perfect, from BuckshotDVD

Are you, like, totally gay? Want more hot, funny porno goodness? See also:

FAINT, FOND & FUNNY ECHOES

BOYS & THEIR TOYS

HOLA SENORITA COSA

Miss Ronnie Returns
Originally uploaded by feastoffools.

Raw, real and anything but ordinary,
Miss Ronnie recently joined the crew over at my favorite podcast, the Feast of Fools. The first time she was a guest on the show, her natural heat and flava had me laughing out loud, and talkin' back, like I was watchin' Soul Food at the Magic Johnson Theatres... I was clappin' and stompin' -- hootin' and hollerin' with each and every bit of wit/wisdom explodin' out of her big, luscious mouth.

She isn't afraid of speakin' her mind (and what a mind, at that), but don't let the snark 'n' sass scare you away: at the heart of each rant/sermon/serving is real love.

If you haven't already joined the FEAST OF FOOLS podcast:
1. Go to the Feast of Fools site.
2. Subscribe/sample the show, via the iTunes Music Store.
3. Subscribe/sample the show via Yahoo! and get in on the good stuff!

see also:

I KNOW A DRAG QUEEN NAMED WANDA…

PATRICK & NOAH EXPLAIN IT ALL…

BUCKLE UP, MY DEAR...

It's been a bumpy ride, so far...

OK, so I know its only October (and early October at that), but I heard something the other night that got me thinking about the past year. It was on the finale for, "The Sureal Life," on VH1. Although I gave up watching the show after Janice's second break-down (within the same episode), I found myself watching the last show. P!nk's boyfriend--whatever the hell his name is--sounds like he had a year much like mine: the kind that almost (literally) kills you.

A while back, I had started thinking, 'If that which doesn't kill me makes me stronger, can I just die now? I don't want to get any stronger.'

I know, I know... some pretty stinkin' thinkin' on my part.

I'm not gonna lie, sugar-coat or complain about the events of 2005. They are what they are, and I just can't... no, make that won't spend/waste any more of my time thinking about it. I've gone over every event, each day, in the hopes of finding-well, anything.

Wisdom. Maturity. Hope. A lesson. A laugh. A direction. A reason to go on... I looked for the wisdom and wonder in every aspect of my life, and found nothing. And no, I'm not being a drama queen, I really didn't get ANYTHING I can take with me into next year.

Or so I thought.

When things were at their worst for P!nk's boyfriend, he adopted this simple outlook: If I wake up, first of next year, and I still have a pulse, I have something to live for--so I'm gonna take control of my life...

Funny thing about him... his career of choice is off-road motorbike racing. His path is (literally) bumpy, from start to finish.

THE ROOF, THE ROOF, THE ROOF IS ON FIRE...

OK, so I've been getting email asking to see a photo of the fire, full-force... that I didn't take of the wire. But I don't have an personal photos from this last firestorm, only the one that rolled through last time.

This was taken up the block from where I live, and has NOT been messed with in Photoshop, or anything tricky-like.

CITY ON FIRE! Part 1

This should give you an idea of how close the fire was, when it started. What you can't see in this picture, is the "Biggest Loser" house, at the foothills... somehow, every inch of land around it was destroyed, but that ONE patch made it through. That's OK, though. (I'll explain why some other time.)

Oh, and YES... I'm fine.

CITY ON FIRE! Part 2

You know, it seems like this same exact fire happens, in the same spot, every year... you'd think we'd be able to do something about that! These fires have become so frequent, that this last time, only two people called to see if I was OK. The rest, it seems, all assumed a big ol' flamer like me would make it through.

On a more serious note, my heartfelt thanks go out to all the fire departments helping to battle this blaze.

CITY ON FIRE! Part 3

Sorry I haven't been posting much in the past few days... but the hills all around where I live are on fire.

THE MANHUNT MACHINE

THE MANHUNT MACHINE
By BoYnBrIeFsOrLeSs

The Manhunt Machine,
O The Manhunt Machine,
The most sexed up contraption that's ever been seen.
Just put in yer stats
and pay the fee,
Click the search button
and hot boys you'll see.
You can search 4 hot boys who are nice n not dumb,
But by adding this in,
they'll only be
as hung as yer thumb.
My thumb? That's dumb, Though it's not perfect -
On second thought, I'll just jack myself numb.

DIFFERENT STROKES 4 DIFFERENT FOLKS

When Kris Weston first gave me a peek at Chris Wide’s photos from Muscle Up, I knew he had to go on the cover of MEN magazine. We’d spent months re-working every page of the magazine (hey, after 20 years, it needed it), and Chris was everything we’d been after in a cover-man: a big, sexy man, who hadn’t plucked, tweezed or shaved every inch of his body. But (as always), there were a few complications:

First off, Chris lives in Germany, and doesn’t speak much English. I lucked out, in that Chris was in San Francisco around the time we went into production on the issue, and Manfred Speer (a former COLT Man himself) offered to translate. I wrote a first draft of the interview, and my managing editor, L.A. Wexton, and I spent several hours trying to present the text in a manner that would make for easy translating (i.e. getting rid of colloquialisms, checking sentence structure and whatnot).

The other problem was that the editor of Unzipped Magazine had already ‘claimed’ him as a cover-model. I’d clashed with this guy—over cover models, content and just about everything else—in the past, and had managed to hold my ground a number of times. My boss told me he’d handle it, and to his credit, he did. (I think we ran the cover a month too soon—a sentiment the publisher agreed with—but I was happy to have my cover guy without any of the drama, so I kept my trap shut.)

Now, the Unzipped dude was pissed, and I mean PISSED. (Not that this was anything new.) The office was often a buzz over his daily, high-decibel, expletive-filled tantrum, so I guess I didn’t catch the fit he had over this change in covers. Allegedly, or from what I can gather, he, “went outside, swung a dead cat,” and found a last-minute replacement that was, “even hotter.” Both covers hit around the same time, and (this I got from the horse’s mouth) his, “hot guy standing by the pool in a Speedo,” was hotter than mine. Even his own art director agreed (well out of earshot), that there was no comparison: Chris was, and still is the hotter of the two.

To my surprise and satisfaction, Chris turned out to be a GREAT interview—smart, sexy and funny: When asked if he was approached by other porn companies, in his native Germany, he said yes. When asked why he picked COLT, he said it was because of the prestige and history surrounding COLT. In his own words: “Why settle for a Volkswagen when you could have a Mercedes?”

The issue was rounded out with an incredible layout/interview with Falcon exclusive Dean Monroe, new models from Body Image and Satori Studios, as well as a hot, semi-nude shot of ‘Amazing Race” winner, Reichen (I’ll post THAT story some other time) and closed with an amazing personal essay by Falcon exclusive Josh Weston. Looking back, I’d have to say that was the hottest issue of MEN I put together during my time as editor. I’m very proud of it.

COLT Man Exclusive Chris Wide’s new movie, Wide Strokes is available from the COLT web site.

For a couple of bonus pictures of Chris (semi-safe for work), click here.

THIS CONCLUDES THE COUNTDOWN

OK, so today marks the end of my little experiment
with the counter (and other stats). I'm surprised at the amount of traffic (more than I though, given the lack of comments), but then, a little sad that I don't have MORE traffic.

There's just no pleasing some people, huh?

GIVE YOU SOME OF THIS ON A BUN…

Music plays a significant role in my day-to-day life—from the song playing while I’m in the shower, to the one blasting from my car stereo as I make that last turn on to the street where I live—it’s almost as if my life has a soundtrack. If I were to compile the Official Soundtrack for the month of August, 2005, it would include the following:

Bad, Bad Man - John Cena feat Bumby Knuckles

Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Green Day

Flashdance Against the Music [White Label] Deep Dish vs Britney Spears feat Madonna

I Think It’s Gonna Rain Today - Mama Cass Elliott

Love On My Mind [Main Club Mix] The Freemasons

Oh [Bimbo Jones Vocal Club Mix] Ciara feat Ludacris

One Eye Shut [Robbie Rivera Vocal Club Mix] 68 Beats

One Night In Bangkok [Extended Version] from ‘Chess’

Panic - The Smiths

Saint of Me [Deep Dish White Label Mix] The Rolling Stones

Since U Been Gone [Jason Nevins Reprise] Kelly Clarkson

Somebody Told Me [Album Version / Josh Harris Mix] The Killers

Touch Me - The Doors

Turn The Party Out - Biz Markie

THAT'S ONE... ONE PHOTO!

OK, so... just for fun, over the past three weeks, I put a one of those little counter-things on my sorry little blog. And I was kind of surprised to see the number approaching 300.

Surprised because if 100 people or so read this thing every week, why isn't ANYONE leaving comments? Oh, sure... I've had a couple of them, here and there. And there was that ONE evil comment. (And YES, I know who you are. I'm gonna be the grown-up here, and leave you alone. This time.)

Most of the feedback I get is sent, by friends, to my personal email. Kris said it was, "very funny stuff." Corey called me 'creative' and linked me on his site. (Links for Kris and Corey are located just below my profile.) And of course, there's my favorite comment, from my older sister: "It has a lot of words."
So stay a while--read an older post from the archives, link to me, post a comment, or just send me an email with dirty jokes or pictures.

JUST DON'T BE A STRANGER ANY MORE.

FAINT, FOND AND FUNNY ECHOES

A writer I used to work with (for both MEN and FRESHMEN) sent this to me recently, and I thought I’d share it. On the back page of FRESHMEN, is a monthly list – kind of like Letterman’s list, but dirtier and much gayer. OK, just dirtier.
It was a pain in the butt, coming up with the list each month, but this writer often had the last-minute ideas that saved the day, and inspired the art guys to come up with a great, final page.
I guess this would be my last, last page…

The Top Ten Wishes of Every Gay Man
10 Liza wouldn’ lisp!
9 Matthew Rush isn't bloated.
8 That aging, white sugar daddy you've got in Miami is really a hot, gorgeous Latin Papi out in West Hollywood.
7 After a more careful examination of your birth certificate, you discover you're actually as young as you’ve been telling people you are.
6 Every guy you meet on Manhunt actually looks like his photos, and really IS packing all eight inches advertised in his profile.
5 You've discovered—and exclusively own—the gene to endlessly, madlessly clone TV reality hottie Reichen!
4 You are employed full-time as Jude law's live-in, round-the-clock Nanny, mkaaay?
3 The Indian in the Village People looks just as hot as he did in 1979, not as he really looks in 2005...
2 The last two Presidential elections were just really, really bad dreams. (Or really great jokes.)
1 Juan Garcia was still editor of MEN and FRESHMEN magazines.

IF YOU DON'T STAND FOR SOMETHING...

You'll fall for anything, including another war
we don't need to be fighting.

If you haven't already posted this link on your site/blog/podcast -- first, call you mother (God willing) and thank her for the gift of life. Tell her you love her.

Then, go put this image on your site an link to:
http://www.meetwithcindy.org/

And if you're in support of the war, know this:

1. I support our troops -- so much so, that I oppose putting them in harm's way for NO GOOD REASON.
2. There is NO CONNECTION between Iraq and the horrible events of September 11th.
3. No, protesting the war DOES NOT help terrorists “win” in any way. We’re not over there fighting ‘terror’ by any stretch of the imagination.
4. If we’re so interested in spreading democracy (small letter ‘d’ on this one, W), why haven’t we imposed regime change on Cuba, China, North Korea or right here in America? (Think you’re living in a democracy? Look it up: one vote equals one vote in a democracy, and setting all the baloney from the last two elections aside, at best, we live in a republic. It’s in the damn pledge, people… “and to the republic, for which it stands…” Think about it.)

and finally…

5. If it was YOUR brother, cousin, sister, son, daughter, boyfriend, whatever… you might see things in a different way.

God bless (and guide) our country in this, its greatest time of need.

I STAND WITH YOU, CINDY. GIVE 'EM HELL!

I KNOW A DRAG QUEEN NAMED WANDA...

Love Is All Around!
Originally uploaded by Wanda Wisdom.

If you haven't checked out this whole podcast phenomenon (on the internets and the iTunes store), then get yer @ss over to Lucky Bitch Radio, and give a listen to my favorite Drag Queen, Wanda (sorry Mr. Dan and Mama, it's been a while since we've hung out).

No matter what's going on in my day-to-day life (although the last seven months have been a miserable @#$%* of a time), Wanda and her fabulous podcast always make me feel better. Whether she's delving deep into philosophy, metaphysics (yes, from a drag queen), or just being a big ol' retard and making me laugh, I'm a luckier bitch with Wanda Wisdom in my life.

So go on over to http://www.luckybitchradio.com or lookup Lucky Bitch Radio on the iTunes store -- you'll be glad you did!

S'ALL GOOD

I just opened a letter from BofA saying they've decided my temporary credit is now a permanent one... meaning they've found in my favor.

Funny thing, though... the @sshole(s) who stole from my account didn't use BofA ATMs, so I was charged a fee for every time they stole from me -- fees BofA has yet to credit my account for.

It's always SOMETHING, isn't it?

HIGHER STANDERS, FROM (OBVIOUSLY) HIGH EMPLOYESS

OK, so I’m not looking to bitch...

And I should know better, with Mercury in retrograde, but...

About a month ago, I sat down (as I often do) to pay my bills using my bank’s online bill-pay service. While I was going over my account activity, I noticed a number of ATM fees charged to the account. Odd, to say the least, but I don’t always notice things like this until the end of the month anyway, so I moved on. It wasn’t until I looked at my checking account balance that I noticed something was wrong—very wrong.
Over the course of the previous 48 hours, $1,100 vanished from my account. Looking the statement over, I found out someone had used an ATM card to make withdrawals at several ATM machines throughout the Los Angeles area.
In a panic, I called my bank.
Now, maybe you’ve seen the commercials on TV for my bank; the ones where they go on and on about protecting their customers from fraud, and whatnot. And maybe you haven’t. Let’s just say the response I got left me feeling a little less than enthusiastic my bank-a bank I’ve been using for the past 21 years, mind you!
I was eventually transferred to the customer fraud department (after several disconnects, and a transfer to the automated self-help line), where a representative explained what I had to do to clear the matter up. (Which is a good thing, considering I had a number of bills due.) Now, I’m not faulting this particular bank employee for doing their job in the manner they see fit, but you thing the first THREE times we had this little exchange would have been enough:

BofA “Are you in possession of the card now?”
ME “Yes.”
BofA “Are there any other cards on this account?
ME “No.”
BofA “Have you given anyone your card to use, or your PIN to use?”
ME “No, never.”
BofA “No one else knows your PIN or has had access to this card other than you?”
ME “That’s correct.”

She informed me that I must be mistaken, because according to the computer, someone had taken the cash out using my PIN, and was I sure I wasn’t the one who had taken the money out, and had just forgotten about it?
She then proceeded to explain they had seen a number of cases where a thief waiting until after a customer had used an ATM or point-of-purchase terminal (like the ones at gas stations), and then used a special device to swipe the station, obtaining card information and PINs. We reviewed the transaction on my card for the previous two weeks, and found only ONE possible case where this could have happened. But where I used the card, and where the fraud had taken place were a good 50 miles (and seven days) apart. That’s a long time for a criminal to wait, only to steal a chunk of change right before I had to pay my bills. How did they know it was bill-time, anyway? It wasn’t the end of the month (I was trying to get an early jump) and it was such a long way to drive, following me from one county to the next.
While I was waiting for the bank representative to begin processing my claim, I remembered my father mentioning an article in the paper mentioning a lap top computer stolen from my bank, containing sensitive customer information. I mentioned this, in passing, to the lady on the phone.
“Sir, that didn’t have anything to do with this, I assure you. That didn’t even happen in California.”

Uh, OK.

The bank representative ordered me a new ATM card, put the old one on hold and sent out an affadafit for me to sign. She mentioned that my account would be credited in a few days, and that I might want to file a police report.
Now, if you subscribe to the bank’s theory, the crime took place in Ventura County, where I purchased the gas, and the card information was stolen. If you look at the situation with a slightly more skeptic set of eyes, you’d see the crime as taking place in Los Angeles County, where the money was withdrawn. So, I asked her where to file.
“Los Angeles County, no doubt about it.”

That weekend, I noticed MORE fraudulent activity. It seems the person with my information had deposited money, and then made a large withdrawal.
“It’s called ‘washing the account’ and it’s quite common in cases like yours,” the bank employee on the phone assured me.
It has a name? The practice is so common, that it actually HAS A NAME? Forgive me if my confidence in my bank is a little less-than sky-high.
Like a total moron, I also pointed out an additional deposit the thieves made, before the account had (finally) been shut off. It wasn’t my money, and at that point, I figured I didn’t need the bad karma.
The lady on the phone told me that a new affidavit would arrive, and that I should sign it, and send it back right away. I asked her which county I should file in, mentioning the previous representative’s answer. (Los Angeles.)
“Oh, no sir,” she dryly remarked, “that information is absolutely incorrect, you should file in the county you live in, since that’s the address on the checks.”
Hmm.

The following Monday, I went back online, expecting to use my credit to pay my bills. But the web site said it didn’t have any record of my account.
So... I called the customer help line. The informed me I shouldn’t have been sent a new card, and that the first thing I was supposed to do was go to my home branch and change my PIN.
So... I went to my local bank branch, where I was informed that a new hold had been placed on my account. And that I should have asked for a new card, and set a new PIN on the phone prior to coming into the branch. (Uh, what?) The branch manager authorized a new card number (which she read to me, loud enough for every customer in the bank lobby to hear), changed my PIN and got my online account back up and running again.
Problem solved, right?


OK, so this story has been dragging on long enough, so I’ll just sum it up by saying that on seven separate occasions, my (new) ATM card has been declined or rejected by machines, for now apparent reason.
When I called into customer support (when they were open, thanks for the “round the clock support,” guys), each time they told me they couldn’t see a reason why the card was blocked, and suggested I try it again. And each time, the card was rejected, until one representative was nice enough to stay on the phone with me, while I tried to use the ATM, checking things on her end, each step of the way. (Which was nice, considering it was 11:45 pm; I was over 50 miles from home, with a quarter-tank of gas and $4 in my pocket.) I couldn’t take money out in the amount I wanted, but had to break it up, into smaller denominations in order to use my new card.
Oh, and that little incident put ANOTHER hold on the card. . .

YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS! Part 2

Josiah “Jay” Fisher and I have been friends for the past 6 years or so. No, not just friends - there’s something special between us. (And no, not THAT, dirt bag.) We have plenty of cute ’n’ sassy sayings, like, “my sister from another mister,” or more down to earth expressions, like, “kindred spirits.” But nothing has really every accurately summed up our friendship.

We met when my side of the "family" starting dating his then boyfriend’s side of the family. For a number of reasons (most not worth mentioning) he received a rather cold reception, from both social groups, no matter how many times he came out with us.

Remembering how hard it was the first time I stepped out with this particular faggle (a large group of gay men), I made it a point to talk to him and make him feel welcome. The relationship with his boyfriend (and the snotty friends) went down in flames, uh, I mean... ended.

With time, the faggle went its separate ways. Josiah moved back to San Diego, where he grew up, and moved on with his life. But somehow, we remained tight. And grew closer over time.

We’ve never had a single fight. (No, seriously.)

We’ve never had to say, “I’m sorry.” (But only because we’ve gotten in the habit of calling each other on our sh!t, before it gets to that point.)

No matter how much time passes, I can always count on him. We, “know what time it is” with each other, no matter what. Just looking in each other’s eyes is an exercise in honesty. When asked why he thinks we’re so close, he points to the 20-plus hours we spent driving from Los Angeles to Park City, Utah (and back) together, shortly after meeting. That drive back was the make-or-break moment for us. And even then, we didn’t have to discuss it. We both just. . . knew.

For bonus pictures of Josiah, click here.

Previously:
You Gotta Have Friends, Part 1 (click here)