To discuss a Photo Recap of fortunes, me liking girls and Madonna's butterface

I didn't plan on this. But the events of the past two days forced my hand. It's a Photo Recap.

Capricorn and I had Chinese for dinner on Sunday, after I made her pancakes for lunch. Nevermind that the restaurant is called Yummy Yummy, which sounds like what I imagine a four-year-old calls his Play-Doh menu. What really got our attention came after the meal, when we cracked open our fortunes in case the Chinese knew something the Bible didn't already cover. Mine is on top and makes no sense unless I'm poaching for furs. Hers is on bottom.



If I'm reading this correctly (and my elementary school report card proves I am literate), then her lucky SAT answers are ALL OF THEM. Is she supposed to just keep repeating that sequence again and again? Or is she just supposed to pick one of the letters and hope the College Board screwed up this year and forgot to change the order of the answers?
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I got the ad below in the mail yesterday. I know that I've long had many gay-like tendencies- from reading Details to worrying about color coordination... basically everything except for having gay butt sex- but has it come to the point that the magazine companies are trying to get me out of the closet?
Is this subscription offer from "Out" basically saying, "Alright, dude. The gig's up. Our market research team has proven that you're a homosexual. Tell Capricorn it's over, and let's just get you into some slim-fit dress shirts and take you to a Broadway show and call it a day, OK? And while you're at it, read our magazine. Neil Patrick Harris talks about how he likes to stick his Doogie in other guy's Howsers."


Finally, a question. WHAT HAPPENED TO MADONNA'S FACE?!?! You know I'm concerned when I bust out the caps lock. I literally paused my Tivo and sat with my mouth agape (agape!) when I saw her on Britney's MTV documentary (of course I watched it. Don't hate). It looks like she lost a war with a puma, and for penance, agreed to assimilate into the feline species. She's one surgery away from turning into Donatella Versace. I wish the photo did it justice.


Put it this way. Britney Spears, who just a few years ago kissed Madonna on stage like two college co-eds being dared by drunk frat boys, now looks terrified to be around her mentor. Look at this screen shot. I'm no expert on body language-- if I was, I wouldn't have forced conversations in high school with girls scooting away from me. But Britney is visibly leaning back throughout their couch conversation. There's a visible V, and I'm not talking camel toe. Thoughts?

To discuss Pittsburgh and a legendary tale...

I was in Pittsburgh this weekend.
I wanted to tell you sooner, but it was a surprise- my former college roommate's (Jonathan) surprise party to congratulate him on getting his graduate degree and accruing massive debt. I think he was famously successful on both accounts. But, obviously, I couldn't write on here ahead of time where I was going this weekend and spoil the surprise, or his wife might have punched me in the junk.
When he arrived at his house, with friends and family in his living room, he was definitely shocked. I think it might have been better, though, if we all had crammed into his shower, and when he'd go to the bathroom, we'd throw the curtain to the side and scream, causing him to fall off the toilet and possibly soil himself. Maybe next time!
Jonathan and I had some interesting times as roommates, including me taking him to the emergency room because he gashed his forehead on a computer while falling down steps, me driving his drunk, drunk self home while he kept shouting about how there were (nonexistent) deer everywhere, and the two of us buying tights together. Yep, tights... for "A Midsummer Night's Dream." We sat down in the middle of the grocery store aisle, figuring out if we needed control top style and why the sizes were based on random letters. That cashier, I'm convinced, thinks Jonathan and I are a couple.
So at the party on Saturday, I got to see some college friends I hadn't talked to in a long time, and that led to recalling some old tales.
One of those tales has taken on a life of its own to the point that I can't remember what's real and what's been added.
That tale, dear friends, is the Seven Steps Method to Holding A Girl's Hand....
Interested?

To discuss the G in GQ not standing for Gay...

I find myself constantly defending my subscriptions to my magazines of choice: GQ, Details, and Esquire.
"Aren't those, like, for gay people?"
As a professional writer, I'm always looking for other good writing (including the links on the right side of this page of other blogs- check 'em out), and these magazines often have great, long-form journalism, intriguing looks into campaigns and war, and fascinating human interest stories...
Take a look at some of the latest articles, photos and headlines gleaned from these awesome publications, and tell me if you still think I like boys:

• "Would you marry a porn star? Meet guys who did."
• Advertisement with two men dressed in cowboys hats looking into each others eyes
• "The World's Biggest Beauty Pageant- for Men"... article begins, "It's Manhunt, to which models from across the globe come every year, armed with swimsuits and baby oil and hoping to take home the sash."
• A Versace ad with McDreamy from Grey's Anatomy.
• A shopping guide to let men know where to get the fashionable clothes in the magazine
• Advice on wearing flip-flops: "A pedicure is mandatory...As for polish, some places may offer you a clear coat, but a buffing will make them shine just as much."
• "The Gay Baby Boom"
• Sexy photos of Gisele! A-ha....(two pages later) Story advising men to wear cardigans (own them) skinny black jeans (own them) and leather dress boots (own t...shoot)
• "Let God Love Gene Robinson" (an openly gay Christian bishop)
• Advice on wearing white shoes between Memorial Day and Labor Day.

Well, crap. Did I mention Gisele?

To discuss what happens in H-Vegas...

I spent last night in Harrisburg, which I've since learned goes by H-town, H-Vegas and the 'Burg, among others. From what I saw, it shall heretofore be called Ho-ville.
I met up with my quasi-cousin (called that because she and I only found out we had an aunt-in-law in common a month ago, so we're not sure if we're related or not) to go bar hopping. I've never been much of a bar hopper, probably because I'm not much of a drinker, and even more, I'm not much of a spender. I am, however, a single, young male, so I've been told this is what I should be doing.

Things I learned since last night:

1. Trendiness is relative. When I go to Wal-mart at 3 a.m., I feel relatively trendy, due in part to the straightness of my teeth, the color coordination of my clothes and the lack of an urge to buy huge t-shirts with animal prints. When I go to Ho-ville, there are scores of 20-somethings wearing trendy clothes that they likely can't afford, drinking $8 mixed concoctions and talking about trendy things, like global warming, Darfur, pollu....oh, who am I kidding, they're talking about boobs. But, still, in a trendy way. I have yet to figure out how to be that kind of trendy. From what I can tell, for the girls it involves wearing very, very low cut shirts that will wardrobe malfunction enough to make the FCC have a heart attack, and tanning a lot. For the guys, it involves gelling your hair enough to make it a weapon, pouring on cologne and pointing at "bitches."
   
2. A guy who looks like George Costanza, down to the tie, khakis, glasses and eagerness to be accepted, should not sing "Pour Some Sugar on Me" for karaoke. No panties will be thrown. None.
3. I had better come to grips that I'm working in a niche market. I talked with Quasi and her friend about interior design, drank a Smirnoff Ice, and sang "New York, New York," (to rave reviews and raucous applause, mind you). There is no amount of football talking, weight lifting or stubble growing that will make me seem less gay. So, as a straight guy, my market continues to be, "Hey, have you always wanted to date a guy with all the qualities of a gay guy, but without the love of other guys' crotches?"
4. All bars use the same iPod mix. AC/DC. Bon Jovi. Poison. Journey. Which makes me wonder- if you went to a bar in, say, 1975, what did they play? Was Sinatra's "Come Fly With Me" considered the "Don't Stop Believing" song that everyone starts singing together as soon as it starts? I don't even really like Journey, but damn if I don't sing that song every time it comes on. It has like 3 key changes to it. It's like the guy's trying to reach God by the final note.
5. Ramen noodles could, arguably, end world hunger. For the first time in years, I had a package, with Quasi, and I forgot how much I love that salty goodness. And it costs, what, 10 cents? I can't even think of anything else that costs 10 cents anymore. When the guys who created Ramen were brainstorming, what was the thought process? "Let's create the cheapest food product possible that will lure people in with its powerful taste... that way, we'll make almost no profit AND falsely lead people to believe they are eating dinner when in fact they are eating salt water." Mission accomplished, gents.