IN THIS CASE, I HOPE HE GETS AWAY

THAT'S WHAT I CALL A GOOD FRIDAY

OK, so I know I just posted a pic of hottie, COLT Man Exclusive Chris Wide... and yes, it was only a few days ago, but if you're in the Nashville area, you're gonna thank me.

Chris will be at the Play Dance Bar this Friday. (If you don't get the title of this post, you're not clever enough to read my blog.) Now, I've never seen one of Chris' meet-n-greet events, but I have plenty oif photos. Actually, now that I think about it, there seems to be a pattern that repeats from venue to venue. In the first couple of pictures, Chris is fully-clothed. Every photo after that, he's got less and less on, and everyone standing around him is grinning from ear-to-ear. (If you wanna get your hands on those sexy chonnies he models, they're available from the COLT Store. Sadly, Chris is not included. Trust me, I checked.)

And if you don't live in the Nashville, TN, area, don't worry. The men of COLT will be popping up in Charlotte, NC, Des Moines, IA, and Sacramento, CA. I saw Evelyn Champagne King at the Sacramento venue, a looong time ago, for NYE. It's a cozy little neighborhood bar with a good bar, and enough room to dance, if you're so inclined. It's called Faces, and they'll be hosting Luke Garrett on the 19th. If you wanna know when and where the other COLT Men will be this month... oh, just go to their site. And even if there isn't going to be a event near you, surf on over to the COLT site, and make sure you check out all the sexy extras they have on the COLT Mobile site. (You have to hear some of the mantones they have. This is NOT safe for work, so go home and do it there, you dirty birdy.)


COLT Man Exclusive Chris Wide
Play Dance Bar
Nashville, TN
April 14th

WHY DO FOOLS FALL IN LOVE?

I'm not asking because I'm in love, or anything. Far from it, in fact.

I'm even a little proud of myself, cuz I recognized the difference between a sexy bad boy, and a sexy boy that will be bad for you. My guard was down when we bumped into each other in front of a friend's apartment. He took my breath away. OK, I never understood that cliché, to be honest. Not because I'm some sourpuss, down-on-life, bitter person. No, what confuses me is why this turn of phrase lasted long enough to become a bad, big-hair power ballad-sized cliché.

Most clichés have some kernel of truth; buried deep beneath the layers of gooey, messy and all-too-often generic emotions we think we'll feel when we meet the one. It doesn't seem to make sense for there to be a "one," if you think about it. What about the one that got away, or the one who made me laugh, but bad in bed? (And such a big doinger, too.) Where do they fit in? It's as though there's a "one" for every kind of romantic lesson / experience under the sun/covers. But, that's a topic for another time, right? Back to the boy in the breezeway.

When I saw him, I was walking up a flight of stairs, and since I didn't fall over and die, I'm assuming my body was consuming oxygen in its normal fashion. I say 'assume' because the moment our eyes met...

Well, that's where the cliché comes in handy. But not really. He didn't take my breath away. Now that I think about, I'm sure he didn't, cuz I managed to mumble some sort of semi-human response to his 'sup nod. A nod which was accompanied by a, "hey" so casual and easy -- so sexy and secure, he could've had his way with me right then and there. Hell, he coulda had me in front of my mama, 'far as I was concerned.

But he was leaving the building, and I was going in. In a city like West Hollywood, gorgeous men are everywhere. They're out, walking the dog (at all hours), or just on their way to the gym... it's like taking the bus to go somewhere: wait long enough, and another one will come along. (See? Now there's a tired, standard turn of phrase you can count on. Cuz its true.)

For the most part, I don't get hung up on / obsess over men I don't know. When you know there's another, equally hot guy, just around the corner, there's no point in putting that much effort into the chase. But every once in a while, I'll see a guy, and something about him gets to me -- the warm, electric charge I get from seeing the guy continues to buzz, long after he's out of sight. And it washes over me in waves, rippling across my skin, taking me by surprise.

As I reached the door to my friend's apartment, I looked back to where I'd parked, hoping to get one more look. No such luck.



What I felt that day, whatever it was… well, it was new to me. The electricity of my desire (to talk to him, or even just see him again) was as strong as it had been in other situations, but lacked the usual childish sense of urgency. Oh, you know what I mean. It’s the current rushing through your body as you flirt like Blanche from The Golden Girls. It's the warm glow washing over every inch of your body as you send a silent, little prayer into the universe, in the hopes that you’ll cross paths again.

I didn’t flirt, and I wasn’t foolish enough to offer up that prayer -- it almost never works. Which is really funny, because our paths did cross again. But I’ll save that for another time.

EVERYDAY IS LIKE XXXMAS!

Cher! Pooh! Rainbows! Unicorns!

OK, so it sounds more like a bad acid-trip version of Rainbow Brite, but trust me on this one: the PNSexplosion rocks! Much love to the Shit-ago P-Cast Crew, special thanks to Patrick for the shout-out, and greetings to any Boomtacular fans who stop by.

YOU'RE STILL THE ONE...

My reign of terror at MEN and FRESHMEN magazines may have only lasted a year, but what a year it was!

My favorite issue, is still probably the April issue, with COLT Man Exclusive (or whatever his title actually is), Chris Wide on the cover.

That particular issue was a bitch to put together, but it was probably the best one we did. The photography was all first-rate, and the interviews were all great. (Special thanks to Gabriel and the Men of COLT, esp. Manfred, who kicked some serious ass in that department.)

As you can see, from the photo I ganked off COLT's site, Chris looks better than ever (loving the furry-tummy he's working, but really loving the tighty-whities).

If you get the chance, check out Chris' films, especially BuckleRoos, and Wide Country, both available from the COLT Store.

Have a good weekend!

SOMEWHERE, SOMEONE'S HAVING A GIGGLE OVER THIS ONE

From this morning's top 20 TV shows list, Number 8 "The Unit"

And no, I'm not making this up.

MY TOP TEN SPAM FLAVORS (THIS WEEK)

Yes, these are all real subject lines from my email I’ve collected in the past week, or so. In no particular order, here are my favorites:

Second notification Raymond
Well, at least they tried to trick me into opening it by putting a real person’s name. What are the odds they got that right? On BabyNames-dot-whatever, it said there were over 11,000 registered names… 11,000, and they chose Raymond? Well, everybody does love him, after all.

It doesn`t hurt to check Ferdinand
OK, make that 10,998 names left on the list. At least they tried to mix it up, with an ethnic(ish) name, right?

Fix your situation Edna
Oh, now you’re not even trying! (But make that 10, 997 names left to try!)

Deep penetration into ass of schoolgirl
Hmm. Tempting, but no. (Deep penetration? Why deep? Why not first-time, or ch#rry-popping penetration? I mean, that rolls off the tongue in a much more titillating manner, wouldn’t you say?)

iTunes Music Store New Music Tuesday: Dave Matthews Band, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and more
Oh, wait… that’s a real one. Hold on—OK, there, I changed my spam filter.

Returning customer
Hmm, the vague approach. Not gonna work on me, but I have to give points for trying.

Cute teenie spreading holes in the park
Now, this one, I almost opened, only to find out if they meant teenagers digging holes in their local municipal recreation spots but I know better than that!

Exclusive panty pixs message from Forest Dodge
Who the hell is Forest Dodge? I mean, with a name like Forest, this could be a really slutty girl who can’t keep her panties on, or a (really f*cked-up) newscaster on some NBC affiliate. Tough call, but since its “panty” pixs, and not, “pixs of panties,” I’m gonna have to pass.

Bisecual faackfest acttion adducted heeds
I have NO idea what that means, but it made me giggle, so it makes the list.

And the winner is:
All love enhancers on one portal!
What? I may actually have to check this out, only to see if they mean there are a bunch of dildos and junk, all stuffed into ONE person’s butt/p&ssy. Ha!

Have spam you wanna share? Send me an email. Happy hunting!

M-M-MUSIC!

...brings the people together.



...is the food of love.



...sounds better with you.

I'M UNSUBSCRIBING!!!

OK, not really... but I'm so over the PNSexplosion ignoring all the fun stuff I've sent them in the past. They did, however, post a little political work I did for the Illinois govener's race...

but now that I think about it, I'm unsubscribing!

SO OVER IT...

Well, they've started to show him kissin' on women, and parading him around on shows like "The Next Big Country Western Star" (or whatever), so I guess the anti-gay machine is in full-swing.

But... on that country show, he said something to a male contestant, about, "not feeling" seduced by the song...

Maybe he's not your type, JC. Just keep looking.

SEASON TWO

Get ready, gay babies... he'll be back, soon.

UH, SAY WHAT?

So I went to Pasadena today, to Lush, to buy some stuff. (If you haven't checked out Lush's AMAZING product line, you should—it rocks.) Anyway, I tried to use an American Express gift card my dad gave me...

and it was declined.

Uh, it's a gift, card, you f*ck-tards! How can it be declined.

Well, my inner-Shanehneh took over, and I called Amex, only to find out that you can't redeem the card outside the U.S.


Uh, bigger f*ck-tard says what???

That's right... Lush is based out of Canada, so I couldn't redeem my card at ANY of their stores, no matter where they are. But the funny thing (and this is funny), is how the tard from Amex kept insisting I was trying to use the card outside the U.S., when I was in Pasadena, CA. You know, Pasadena, the home of the f*cking Rose Parade. (Now, granted, nobody watched it this year, but still... everyone knows the parade isn't held in Mexico, or China.) You think, with all the g*#@damn money they make, Amex could hire employees with a basic sense of geography and cultural awareness!

sheesh...

TIGA presents MY MARCH MUSIC

I know March is almost over, but here are my picks for music (some of them are even available on iTunes, so spend the 99 cents and just buy one of 'em.) I thought I'd do something a little different this month, and made a quickie photo-collage during my lunch after-glow.

This is a photo of Tiga, who's debut album is SO hot, I just had to use him in as the basis for the image. His song, (Far From) Home, at least the reprise version, is awesome. I mean, who even has reprise tracks on an ablum anymore? Not-to-be-missed, quality jams... that's what I'm servin' up. Hungry? (No? Filled up on skrimps, I guess!)

If you're a big fan of electro, but have a soft-spot (or hard-spot) for hip-hop, check out his cover of Nelly's Hot N Herr, from the DJ Kicks! series. It's on the iTunes store, and is a must-have for music lovers.

If you've got a tune you think I should hear, or heard a song / remix you want to know more about, just hollah at meez.

Happy hunting!

WHOAH, BABES

OK, so I'm not a big Cher fan. In fact, I can't stand the bitch. She's a decent actor—and yes, I mean actor, just read between the lines, babes—but I can't stand her music.

Funny thing about Cher: I don't think I've gone a day, for the past decade, without hearing her music... not by choice, you understand. I hear it at the gym, on the radio, on TV adverts and well...

one of my favorite podcasts.

Yes, the PNSexplosion regulary features Cher's music. They also have a great running-bit with... well that's a little harder to explain. (Check the show out if you wanna know, but trust me, it's side-splittingly funny.) Over the weekend, the PNS boys posted a video (made by Chaz, for Mommy, using her Mario Paint program) that had me in hysterics. These screenshots are from that video.

The v-cast was so good, I actually went an bought the song. (OK, it was on a cheap, legally-questionable website, but I paid for it, OK?) It was so good, I'm actually thinking about digging up my old Nintendo games and sending it to the PNS boys. Wanna know what I mean? Check out the PNS-podcast, or their hi-larious blog, boomtacular.

Oh, just check it out, babes...

more later...

AND NOW, FOR SOMETHING, UH...

something.

I stumbled across this photo of Kris Weston (Oh, just search my blog for his name, I'm too tired to put the links in the body of this post for you), and Troy Punk, who I used to have a little crush on when I was in the biz. OK, that just sounds lame... he's still cute. I just kinda got over my crush when another magazine (same company) got a better photo set, and interview than I got.

When I saw this photo, and that whole world came rushing back to me...

A year ago, around this time, I was just out of the hospital (pnuemonia), and back at work. I don't really miss the stress, being treated like crap, or the lame-ass, long days. I don't think I had been in bed before 1 in the morning for three whole months, prior to my hospital stay... there was a time in my life where that statement would have meant I was out, having a good time. As I've grown older, I find I have fewer nights of restful sleep. But those months leading up to the start of the end, work consumed me. And not in a good way. Funny thing is, looking back on it now, it wasn't worth it.

I loved the work I did. I loved the challenges, loved the feeling that rushed over my body each time I held a new issue in my hands, and even loved some of the people I worked with. But I was treated like shit. Even worse, I ended up dishing it right back—a personal low, and something I've struggled to put behind me. I don't think they ever really appreciated me, or how hard I was working. They cut me off, tossed me out on my ass in the blink of an eye... and then sold the company for a tidy profit. The only thing keeping me from being truly bitter, and filled with hate is knowing that I walked away from it with the only thing that mattered to me: my life.

Sure, I miss the money. And the endless parade of naked dudes... but I almost died a year ago, and even if I add everything I loved about the job, and ignored the crappy bits it wasn't worth it. I look at this photo, and remember the amazing people I met; remember how they were good people, people I could respect for the talent and their kindness... it just helps keep it all in perspective, y'know?

NOT TO BE MISSED

skrimps
Originally uploaded by MrPunkLJPics.

Alright, so I ganked this photo from Mister Too-Punk-For-You's flickr account, and I have no idea what the hell is going on in this picture, but I laughed my ass off anyway.

This kid had a great blog--his entries run the full spectrum of emotions, academics and just plain ol' funny. I visit his site regularly, but I'm a d!ck-less, silent fan. I don't ever post a response to his entries, but I've forwarded his URL to plenty of people, so I guess it just balances out.

From time to time, I feel a little sad, thinking about how few people read my blog, and how even fewer comment. And then I remember what fat, lazy bastard I am, for not showing Mr. Punk-n-Circumstance any love, and I think...

Hey, what's on TV?

C'MON DOWN TO SOUTH PARK…

I stumbled on this link this morning, while browsing the blogosphere… and just had to share it with anyone, and everyone. I’m a huge South Park fan (not so much the movie, as the TV show), so getting to make my own character (in my likeness, natch) was a hoot. The show—along with The Simpsons and a handfull of other programs—has managed to stay fresh, and funny as the years have gone by.

While I enjoy newbies, like Family Guy and Drawn Together, they rely too much on over-the-top, sell-it-to-the-balcony antics (mostly potty humor). South Park caused quite a stir when it first launched, if memory serves. But season after season, the creators managed to layer in subtle (well, subtle-esque if that's even a word), topical humor, broadening the appeal... it's one of the few shows I actually watch from start to finish (other than Battlestar Galactica, which we'll cover later in the week). I try not to jump around to other channels during the commercial breaks, as I'm afraid of missing anything. (All you TiVo users out there are pussies, as far as I'm concerned.)
So c’mon down to South Park, and meet some friends of mine…



[Aside to Marz: your blogger identity doesn't click-thru to anything? Son las bloggers, no?]

DEEP IN THE 'HUNDRED-ACRE WOODS...

Well, here it is... four months after the fact, I finally figured out where I stashed this picture. I posted an entry about this little bear's second Halloween adventure this past October, but had to settle for a photo of a drag queen to accompany the text because... well, that's a long (not-that-interesting) story, so we'll just skip over all the mind-numbing details.

I hesitated before posting this picture -- so much time elapsed between the original mood inspiring the post, and the (re)discovering of this photo's location. Posting in March seemed a little silly, to be honest. But it's such an adorable little picture, how could I not share it?

When I first got my grubby little hands on this photo, it wasn't anything more than a visual marker—a snapshot of my favorite little bruin to join the stacks of other memorable-but-not-always-meaningful moments. Don't get me wrong -- seeing him take his first steps, hearing his first words and the look on his face when he realized all those balloons, and presents and cake were for him, on his first birthday are all warm, fuzzy memories I'll treasure for the rest of my life.

But if you've spent any large chunk of time around children under the age of five, then you know... well, you know. They change (and grow) so quickly, it almost seems like they're an entirely different person from week to week. Yet somehow, the changes they go through -- right before your very eyes -- seems less like a transformation, and more like a metamorphosis.

As quickly and radically as a little kid develops into a little person (person-to-be, perhaps?), there's something comforting, and soothingly natural about the way their personality takes shape. With James, it's almost as if every little, new piece of the puzzle revealed makes sense; somehow it all just adds up... while still managing to surprise.


Back when I originally intended to post this picture, it was just a marker on my life's timeline. But now, it represents so much more: I remember, with amazing clarity, trying to imagine what my life would be like when I turned 30. I mean, it wasn't like I had it all worked out--far from, it actually. On numerous occasions over the past six or seven years, I tried to imagine how the path I was on would play out, and if I could "see myself" in that job.

Or living in the same city, dating the same guy, blah, blah, blah. I never decided that one outcome was better than another, or fooled myself into thinking there was one path I had to take to be happy. I mentally / emotionally / spiritually sorted through a number of equally different, equally enjoyable scenarios... but not a single one included bedtime stories, trips to the park, booster shots, or spending an afternoon on the couch, looking at books about animals. I never imagined so much of my life would center around the joys/challenges of early childhood--that on average, I'd spend more of my week talking to a little boy in a bear suit, than at gay bar/club/party... which sometimes also involves bears, but that's a whole 'nother mess.


Now, this photo represents the unexpected, yet wonderful, twist my life has taken. It isn't how I imagined it, but I wouldn't want it any other way.

WE RUN THIS...

OK, so my list of songs I love--for February--never went up, cuz I have a MAJOR beef with on of them.

Now, lemme back this thang up, and say I LOVE me some Missy Elliott, Misdameana or not.

Having said that, I'm sick and tired of shelling out money for her album, only to have her re-lyric every song (and not always for the better) when the video comes out.

"We Run This", the newest single from THE COOKBOOK, rocks... it samples one of my favorite ol skool songs (anyone who drops a tune by The Amazing Bongo Band is pretty cool in my book), has a great hook (which is rare for a hip-hop / rap song) and has—make that HAD—great lyrics.

I mean, watching the video (where these photos came from), all I could think was, What was she thinking? It was such a hot track, and now... well, it just doesn't make sense. Missy: Get back to work. We're all proud of you for keeping the lbs off, but you make better tunes when you're chubby, and now that you're thin enough to dance around, there' NO excuse for lip-syncing a performance (like on the BET awards)... have a snack, regain focus and WIORK IT!

AND NOW, FOR A TREAT...

My little sister brought me this treat a few weeks ago, and we had a good giggle about the box. What was interesting about this treat, is my father thought they were Mexican candy (pronounced 'aye aye'), but the words on the individual wrapper appeared to be Middle-Eastern. I don't think I've ever enjoyed such a geographically mysterious snack.

For a peek at another funny snack my sister brung me, click here.