Screenshots from the new XBox are absolutely stunning. But for me, they’re not $300 stunning.
A woman that works on the other side of the floor got let go today – well – she’s a consultant. She’d been asked to go full-time but she wanted to wait until she and her husband moved into a new home. They let her go. Yikes.
Home working today. Seriously. I have a laptop now and had to test my remote connection. I love it. I can answer emails and take care of crises with the sun shining in the front room. Heaven. Woke up early and went to the gym for arms day then came home and started running errands. I’m about all of the way through them. Going to go to Kinko’s to make some copies for my agent mailing. Current weight is 157 – I’m gaining! Gotta go buy some more Isopure today. I’m taking three of those bad boys a day – that’s a lot of protein… yikes. Did some gym shopping this morning – not going to pay $75 for Crunch now that my 2 year deal is over. Looked at two gyms up by me… might look at World Gym on Montrose – that’d be on the way to work.
Was thinking more about my sissy-rant yesterday… I think what drives me nuts is I can’t stand people that play weak-victim. Or those that fulfill their stereotype… I can hardly stand demure-ness in women much less demure men. Argh.
I just cracked myself up. I tried to match the screeching volume of the staff at Panda Express. I laughed because I thought of Cho’s routine about Tam’ Video Store in San Francisco: WHAT IS YOUR MEMBUHSHIP NUMBAH??
During our weekend shopping binge, Ron and I were looking for a place to sit down whilst the women shopped – I’m always amazed at how much longer it takes girls to shop. I’m more of a search and destroy shopper. Find it. Color? Size? Price? Buy! And you’re done. I have childhood memories of sighing loudly and frequently and obnoxiously as Mom and Heather took me into Hour Three or Saturday morning shopping. So anyway, Ron and I sit in the husband chairs at the Maidenform store while Brigitte rifles through the various tables of panties… a Navy boy comes up and is loitering – his buddy and his girlfriend are shopping in the store. The Navy guy remarks about women and lingerie and fabric and I say, ‘It doesn’t matter – it still gonna take a half hour to take off.’ He mentions that he just finished boot camp and is training to be a Field Medic – the mall was full of Navy men and women – they graduated this weekend. Suddenly the war became very real. These kids are 18. They all look so young to me. It’s crazy. He said that they now train the medics in firearms. He then looked at us and asked, ‘you guys look like you might have been in the service.’ I said, ‘no, we’re boyfriends.’ Okay, I really didn’t say that – but I wanted to. I just said, ‘nope’ and he and his friends were on their way. It’s important to me to be ‘straight acting-appearing’ as they say – I don’t want to call attention… I think it’s a midwest thing. I’m still a small town boy that wants to have all the small town things regardless of my eventual spouse. I detest the screeching fag stereotype – especially when it appears in the wild. Part of me thinks – well, of course you’re calling attention to yourself if you are going to act like that. Sort of like The Onion’s headline a few months ago Gay Pride Parade Sets Mainstream Acceptance of Gays Back 50 Years. And I wince when the heavy-swishers come in to the coffee shop. I guess I just question whether they’re acting sincere and like their real selves or if it is all just a facade – an act… a stage-queen persona? I resist being normal yet I crave being normal. I think I need to get the book Sissyphobia
I downloaded Alien Ant Farm’s cover of Jacko’s ‘Smooth Criminal’ and I can’t stop listening. If I could just sample the first 8 measures and repeat them constantly in my head I’d be fine dut-duh! duh-dut-duh-duh duh-da-duh-duh da-da-da-duh duh!
Major shopping extravaganza this weekend… Karen, Brigitte, Ron and Roy (works with Karen & Brig)… we started with a carbo load at Ann Sather and then went to Gurney Mills mega-mall. It was a day of consumption. We traversed the enourmous mall – a purchase at the Gap but we all scored at the Banana Republic factory outlet. Dropped the wad on some new clothes for work. We intended to be home at a reasonable hour but the hour long trip home took two and half hours for no apparent reason – naps ensued. Roy and Ron wimped out on dinner so the girls and I went to Andes to eat. And did we eat. As we rolled our asses home Brigitte remarked, ‘Most people our age stumble home drunk. We stumble home fat. I shouldn’t have pushed it with the spicy chicken kabobs. Ah, hubris… but my evening was not done. I had to go to Anthony’s birthday party still and then dancing with Ron. Fell asleep and then woke up to go to Anthony’s Come As You Aren’t Party (I wore my satanic mechanic costume from H’ween) and then went to Ron’s and we both decided not to go out dancing and I ended up falling asleep there. The next morning we got coffee/tea before he went off to work and met his friend Gilbert – I remarked to Gilbert that when I first me him he called me Mr. September and now it seems I’ve lasted through November… ‘You’re Mr. Autumn-Winter,’ he assured me.
Cleaned out the closet today. Took everything to the dry cleaners today. Found the absolute funniest horoscope from the The Onion ever: (I wish I was an Aries)
You will invent a successful line of fuckable baking dough, sell it to a major corporation, and achieve fame and fortune as the Pillsbury Ho-boy.
Two dreams last night… one was that I was going to a wedding and got my hair cut and I didn’t know until I’d left the barber that I had been given a mullet. I was begging those around me to cut my hair in the back for me so I didn’t look so hideous. I finally got scissors and cut it off myself. Shivers. The other one was that Brian – the Big Man on Campus when I was in high school gave me his phone number to go on a discreet date. Gawd. Sorry, Brian – if you read this – I always figure people that know me will find this and then never tell me that they read it. Oh well – he’d be flattered probably. Not sure what Emily would say… she’d probably think it was cute and be excited her husband was so open-mined. I’m talkin’ about sex boy, what the hell are you talking about? I’m talking about l’amour, I’m talkin’ that me and Dot are swingers … as in to swing. I’m talkin’ about wife swapping. I’m talkin’ about what they call nowadays open marriage. Winchell: blow me.
I was blue-collar studly with a Ford/Mercury repairman workshirt I got at Hollywood Mirror. I had temporary tattoos on my left shoulder and arms – and I put in my white out Wild Eyes contact lenses which really freaked people out – I wore sunglasses most of the night and used that to surprise people – Brigitte couldn’t deal with it – she has a phobia with things in people’s eyes and she got ill when ever I looked at her. Even freakier was when I took them out – I had one out and one in – very very freakish. Maybe next year I’ll do a half and half thing – that’d be cool. Smoked Marlboro Reds as well. Well – didn’t really smoke as much as had a lit cigarette in my mouth. Sarah had a birthday party for herself (it’s today) last night at Sylvie’s… she was a USO girl, her boyfriend Scott was an escaped convict, Mierka was a 60s gal, Brando a high-hair death-rocker, Brigitte was a scrub (or rather was wearing surgical scrubs)… and Karen was a big poon and skipped the event. Then I had late late dinner with Ron, Gilbert and Rodney at Nookie’s. I was the only one in costume. Was going to spend the night at Ron’s but a car alarm kept going off continously on Melrose… I went home and on the way left a note on that car: Turn the goddamn motherfucking alarm off on your cunting car. You are an inconsiderate asshole. Next time it’s towed. Your friendly neighbor. I was sort of surprised at myself that I did that – at least the car already had a ticket on it – but what are the residents supposed to do until then?
Medley from Alternet.org
“You know you could do it,” the South African said to me in her clipped speech. “All it takes is the first time.” Toni nodded, adding, “You think you’re not going to go there, you’re not going to cross that line, but once you have sex for money, you’ve changed. You can do it.” (Confessions of a Call Girl’s Friend)
The House package is little more than a rehashed corporate wish list, doling out $115 billion in tax breaks to big business and the wealthiest taxpayers, and a comparatively measly $14 billion to poor and moderate-income families in the form of tax rebates and unemployment benefits. And while the tax cuts for the haves are permanent, those for the have-nots are good for only one year. And they even have the gall to call it patriotism. Others, using the English language more rigorously, call it war profiteering. (Operation Enduring Avarice)