XanaDo! Do! Do!

While I was disheartened to see that Midnight Mass: Sing Along Xanadu/Drag Queen Roller Derby was sold out online, I was excited to hear that Javits went down to the theater in person and managed to score the last set of tickets.

Kevin, usually up for the adventure but not terribly excited as he hates the movie, did a 180 and texted me that he did in fact want a ticket as he was now "in the mood for a costume."

I freaking love my friends.

And I, of course, did not disappoint him.

Being the sort of guy who can dress in costume out of the items in his closet, we had our choices of main characters, Xanadu dancers, or a franchise glitz dealer.

Give the boy a little sparkly and he's higher than a Lohan.

We wore our costumes to dinner. Here he is with the famous and talented faux queen Bea Dazzler:

I was worried that she was participating in the Drag Queen Roller Derby as the final event is the "Wig Snatch" and that wig looked like a competitive liability.

I went as Sonny Malone, the tragic Michael Beck character ("tragic" here referring to the actor, not the character). To make the costume more detailed, I should have shaved and found a near-mullet wig, but that was way too much trouble. And it was crazy hot as it was.

I did, however, stop at Walgreen's to get some silly putty to approximate Michael Beck's serious schnoz. Unfortunately, all they carry now are the neon colors. I thought it might be a good thing though as a fake nose in bright orange would be funnier.

However, the effect in this photo is a little "Bert."

Even though Midnight Mass has gone a little too mainstream, we were not the only ones in costume. One of my favorite was the non-costume on this cutie. I asked to take his pic and he pointed out that it doesn't really spell "Xanadu," but I thought it was close enough for clever and showed some effort.


Those in sparkles tended to gravitate to one another:


But I had to wonder if he stole this from his mother's closet. Cracked me up.


There were several fabulous "Kira"s for my "Sonny."

Some clearly prettier than others.


The pre-show was awesome. I was able to take some 20/30 second clips with my camera.







Peaches, of course, was HI-larious. But the Main Event of the evening was the Drag Queen Roller Derby.

Now, Kevin and I were at the original event at the Midnight Mass screening of The Apple back in 2004. That was off the hook.

This year, everyone, not just the participants, had to sign a libaility waiver to enter the theater for drag queen roller derby-related injuries. I am not making this up.

The two teams this year were the RollerTards...


...and the Skinny White Bitches.



The final event is the most violent: The Wig Snatch, in which the team who rips the most wigs off the other team wins. This is a timed event.




Our commentary was, of course, painfully funny and insightful. Although I will say I never noticed the homoerotic sub-text of the Danny Maguine/Sonny Malone relationship (to which the audience would chant "NAMBLA" whenever they touched).

Our new best friends (other than the Irish hottie sitting next to me that I let leave without giving my number) are Lesie and Terrence. They were sitting one row in front of us and about six seats over. But she loved our commentary so much she started rewarding the best lines with Whoppers. These two totally "get" Midnight Mass. There were not in Xanadu-themed attire, but rather in their pajamas. It is a midnight show after all (we didn't leave until around 3:30 A.M.).


And of course, one last shot of me with our hostess, Peaches Christ:

A million lights are dancing and then there you are, a shooting star.

[flickr set]



Update!

More clips from other people have been posted to YouTube:

The Drag Queen Roller Derby Beach Ball Keep Away:



And the painful Wig Snatch:

MOMA Mia

It's been a busy week and weekend!

Tuesday with Kiki & Herb, Wednesday with Amy Day, Thursday party at the MoMa, Friday Happy Hour/Sundance/Harry Potter, Saturday Midnight Mass, and Sunday recovery, before starting it all over again with more Sundance/Badlands revelry.

A special thanks to Tom at the MOMA for making Thursday night possible.


Wilson, Alert Reader Paul Day, and New Friend Tom
(photo taken by the lovely Shilpa)

walk a mile in her shoes

and feel like Hello Kitty.

Amy Day, patron of pink, ordered a custom made pair of Converse sneakers (how sneaky!) from their Web site.


She is so very pleased.



And the detail is nice too. I wonder if she stiches her name in her other clothes too? Like she's at camp...

the rental market in SF is too hot

And you can tell just where the rents are hottest using this mashup of Google maps and Ethan Garner's research and programming talents which takes current and historical data from housing posts on Craigslist and creates a heat map of San Francisco with the highest rents registering as the hottest areas in the City. There is also an option of seeing a heat map based on turnover/frequency of postings to a location.

Very hot. And very cool.

Hairy Plotter

I did leave Friday night's Sundance Saloon to go to the Books, Inc. (independent bookseller at Noe and Market, in the Castro) Harry Potter release party. It was packed. Some kids, lots of adults feeling like kids, and some really wonderful costumes. The young ones were so adorable.

The one thing I like about this being such a global frenzy is that it feels like a bazillion person book club: we're all reading the same book at the same time.

I bought the newest one (was only the third person in line and did not have to wait with the hundreds of others because I did not pre-order) and a paperback version of the previous installment (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince). I read the penultimate book when I was traveling in Europe and ditched it because it was so big. I want to reread it and get a running start to the final volume. And I have to do so quick lest I hear what happens. Someone has already ruined it for Paul Day, which really sucks for him.

Everywhere I went this weekend, restaurants, muni, cafes, people were reading the new Harry Potter, or commented to me, recognizing I was reading the previous one, that they just had just done the same thing to prepare for the new one. I paid full price ($35) for the new hardback. Mom told me that she almost ordered me one (it was only $15 to $20 via Amazon) but was sure I'd get my own. She reported that her copy arrived first thing Saturday morning, looking as if an owl had dropped it on her doorstep. It even came with address labeling to "Muggles." That was a really cute touch.

I sort of wasted my Saturday devouring the Half Blood Prince again and am almost ready for the new one. I must hurry lest it be spoiled!

Unshelved has a cute homage to the books today...



...although I am not sure if the joke is that the kid's fantasy IS the Harry Potter series, or maybe he has just finished all the Harry Potter books and needs a new series to devour.

breakfast is as breakfast does

Midnight Mass Xanadu made for a looong night.



It's breakfast at the Metro at four o'clock-ish with Coco and RMJ. It's nice to have friends with similar schedules...

And a happy birthday shout out to Alert Reader Paul Day!

(and my Dad! But thankfully doesn't read this.)

Jack MacFarland's late night ad airs

Remember all those (okay, two) crappy budget ads Jack finally got cast in on Will & Grace?

What if an over-the-top flaming Mary struggling actor-wanna-be did get a job as the role of a husband in a local cable ad.

Could someone such as Jack pull off the straight-acting?

Exhibit Gay indicates no.



I wonder what this "husband" is like in real life? Is he the indomitable lovable Jack? (okay, "indomitable" may be the wrong word, if you get my drift.)

The title of this video on YouTube is "My wife? My ass."

And to answer the FAGAT, no, you're not.

SF Alternative city-wide WiFi

The SF government/Mayor and others have been talking about free city-wide WiFi for years now, and Earthlink and other interested parties have seriously complicated the matter.

There is a for-profit yet community-based model that is moving forward without the politicians and doing it on its own. If you are an San Franciscan, or just someone interested in community-based free internet WiFi, I recommend reading this post over at Metroblogging San Francisco.

If you've been around the Inner Mission over the last few days, you've probably noticed these posters. Wi fi for everybody? Isn't the city still arguing about how it's going to make that happen?

This isn't the municipal wi-fi effort, but an end-around by a private company, Meraki. By putting up wireless antennas around a neighborhood, then selling small "repeater" antennas to individuals, they aim to create a "wireless mesh network" across selected neighborhoods of the city.

Curious about the plan, I spoke on Wednesday to Sean Gaddis, Meraki's head of marketing.

that was pretty shaky

Well it shook me out of bed.

From the USGS:

An earthquake occurred at 4:42:22 AM (PDT) on Friday, July 20, 2007.
The magnitude ? (not yet determined) event occurred 4 km (2 miles) ENE of Oakland, CA.
The hypocentral depth is 5 km ( 3 miles).

thirsty, have iPhone, will travel

Last year (or so) I posted about the Happy Hour/Food/Drink Special mapping site Stumbling Donkey.

Now that Google Maps is open source people are coming up with some very clever mashups.

And now to find the best drink deal near you using Google Maps, just point your iPhone's (or any computer's) browser to Mappy Hour.

no pretensions

just tensions.

In reference to an old acquaintance who has become persona non grata.

Me:........"I just can't stand him any more. I can't even pretend.
.................We're not even 'frenemies'."
Shilpa. .."Yeah, there's no F-R in that."
Me:........"But there is F-U."

And stop calling me, Shirley.

Or rather "Dame Shirley."

Shirley Bassey, still hot at 70. From Joe.My.God, here is Shirley Bassey doing P!nk's "Get the Party Started."



Sounds a lot like the remixed version of "Diamonds Are Forever" though. Still, very cool.

Hey Señorita

Every now and then, when I see certain names appear on the caller ID, I'll answer the phone as if I am my own voicemail. And sometimes with the unexpected message.

"Hello. And welcome to Wilson's Love Line. For hot, sexy talk: please press one. [pause]. There are no other options."

Often the caller will press one immediately, and before I can continue. Almost always, they do not realize I am not a recording.

For added verisimilitude, I may end the bit with "Por español, prima numero dos."

Which I now think would be a great latina drag name: "Prima Numerados."

Yay! Rah!

We've been having a big round robin of e-mails as I have been trying to coordinate the gang for Sunday.

Coco has started signing her e-mails as:

Coco Flores
Co-Captain
Team Wilson

Right on! Now we're talking of having jerseys made so we can all show up in team shirts.

"Sorry we can't stay, we have a game later..."

Of course, it's a drinking game, but we don't have to tell everything we know.

Neon lights are out

I'm so pissed.

I did not buy the Midnight Mass Xanadu tickets last night as I wanted to get a head count first.

It is now sold out.

All of this new press (Peaches and Midnight Mass were on the cover of the Guardian last week) is ruining the edge/fringe appeal of Midnight Mass. Who would have thought that Peaches would go too mainstream? Clearly, this is not underground any more.

And I had already started on my costume.

Grumble. Grumble. Grumble.

Buck up

The Dore Alley street fair is next weekend. Although I think now that it has outgrown the alley it has been renamed just the "Up Your Alley" street fair (it's a spin-off of Folsom).

The SF Chapter of the Golden State Gay Rodeo Association is hosting a fundraising dance Saturday night prior. I'll be volunteering before the dancing. And working the beer booth at the fair. Treat Williams may be in town and hopefully I'll get to see him. it turns out he is a member of the L.A. chapter.

Summer weekend calendar

I meant to post something yesterday but I never had the time. Kiki and Herb was AMAZING. Run to the show. I loved it and want to see it again.

However, an intermission would have been nice. I spent the last hour of the show holding it in pain, and fearful to get up lest I miss something else hilarious.

After the show we hit my favorite speakeasy Bourbon & Branch. The interior and atmosphere are even more lush than their bourbons. The B&B does always reminds me of Ian though, and made me wish here were here.

Even later, past 12:30, we made it to Trannyshack and their Sisters night for Gladys' Trannyshack debut. Awesome.

On tap for the rest of the week? Too much.

Tonight: Happy hour cocktails/spa time with Shilpa, followed by MoMa party with Paul Day.

Friday: Happy hour at Badlands, followed by Sundancing, followed by Harry Potter release party at Midnight at Books Inc., followed by more cavorting.

Saturday: Frantic costume-fashioning during the day. It's Sing-Along-Xanadu at Midnight Mass! Preceded by the always awesome and often violent Drag Queen Roller Derby.

Sunday: Housewarming for 700 Vermont new home to Lance & Beth, MetroGreg, and Sati. And it's Paul Day's birthday. And Dad's.

The spell is broken

The publishing company spent $20 million on security for the carefully controlled release of the final Harry Potter book, and several days early it has already hit the internet.

Not as an e-book, or even a scan, but someone got their hands on a copy and took digital photos of each and every page and posted them online. Web sites reporting this (such as BoingBoing) are even posting the spoilers of who lives and who dies. I won't even link here as I think it's a dick move to spoil everyone's fun like that. I had to quickly close the window for fear of spoiling my reading experience. I may have to go on a media blackout to avoid learning the ending before I get around to reading it.

I think exposing the secrets is really bad work. Do these people think they are "cooler" for knowing the ending before other people do? That's like a petty gossip. Posting the story early or exposing the ending doesn't make you cool. It makes you a loser.

Soylent green is people.

I'm just sayin'.

On the bright side, they also reported on the new Web show "Welcome Back, Potter" in which Harry returns as a pudgy, middled-aged teacher assigned to an inner-city magic school. Now that's cool.

Welcome Back, Potter

Hullooooo Zeeba Neighbah!

Neatorama has a "caption this photo" contest going on for this photo/story from Hilton Head Island:


I think it is a living page out of my favorite strip Pearls Before Swine.


Although I think the caption "Samantha! You're mother did it again!" also works.

(referring to Endora...)

crossing the lines

For those of you who know me, you know my speech tends to be peppered with many (perhaps too many) references--popular or otherwise. Not that I go all Dennis Miller with the esoterica, but I do feel free to voice whatever line or reference seems to be situationally appropriate and happens to be synaptically collocated in this overstuffed attic I call my brain.

This habit may have developed very early. Among my familiars growing up, those best of best friends Carrington Nelson (now Carrington Fox)and Jonathan Harwell, we were so intensely connected that often entire conversations or emotional states were conveyed by shorthand quotes from an earlier experiences, from our own lives or from the screen.

These days it may be that the unexpected reference has become one of my conversational hallmarks. It's no wonder I love MST3K. And the rare clever shout at Midnight Mass.

So I really dig these guys. At first I just thought it was cute, cleaver, and fag funny. Then I realized how much hard work must have gone into making this: remembering/picking the lines, finding them, sampling them, editing them into a dialog, and then the rehearsing and the shooting and the editing.

I can't imagine pantomiming this in public with a straight face. Or investing that much time. I may have mastered the random quip, but these fags are dedicated.

I just wonder what they could do if they expanded the repetoire beyond the five or so movies they sampled.

Enjoy.

Speak Up by Randy Eisenberg

11 Herbs and Kiki

Tonight we have tickets to the Kiki & Herb show at A.C.T. Freshly back from NYC, this show is aptly titled: Alive from Broadway.

If you haven't heard of Kiki & Herb, they are an over-the-top lounge/cabaret act. This year is called "The Magical Drinking Tour," and Kiki's dream line is "Dare to suck, and let the magic happen!"

From the NY Times review:

That’s one gorgeous set of teardrops that the immortal Kiki DuRane is wearing for her mind-popping Broadway debut. Kiki, a molting songbird for all seasons, and Herb, her happily suffering shadow and accompanist, opened last night at the Helen Hayes Theater in “Kiki & Herb: Alive on Broadway,” a hyper-magnified cabaret concert that has the heat and dazzle of great balls of fire.

Justin Bond as Kiki croons her whiskey way through smoky ballads. Actually, since this transcendental lounge act is fond of biblical imagery, make that great swords of fire — or, if you prefer, a burning bush.

But about those teardrops. Whenever Kiki tilts her face upward, toward her key light — and like any self-adoring goddess, she does that a lot — her eyes brim with the most brilliant pools of brine you have ever seen. Well, not to spoil the illusion, but those ain’t tears: they’re rhinestones (or something like), strategically glued just beneath her lower lashes.

It is a tribute to the perverse showbiz genius of Kiki and Herb that once you twig on to this shameless trompe l’oeil, you don’t feel merely amused. Nor do you think that the singer has been trading only in paper-moon emotions, or making fun of those who do, as she croons her whiskey-pickled way through bathetic ballads and angry anthems. [Ben Brantley]

I am so freaking stoked.

See also the short but rave review at Playbill, which refers to them as "a song-and-booze cabaret duo."

If ever there were a show for me and Kevin/Statler and Waldorf, this is it.

Joining Statler and Waldorf are Kelly, RMJ, Shawn, and James.

We are going to be on tonight!

WWJD? S&M?

I thought the Christian Right was scary enough as it is. And not for nothin', but you just know these are only white folks.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, there is a S&M/Domination Spanking Christian sub-culture.

And they have some Web sites.

Christian Domestic Discipline: "Loving Wife Spanking in a Christian Marriage"

I am not making this up. Even my freak flag doesn't fly that high. And it's on percocet.

From the Web site:

A domestic discipline marriage is one in which one partner in the marriage is given authority over the other and has the means to back the authority, usually by spanking. A Christian Domestic Discipline marriage is one that is set up according to Biblical standards; that is, the husband is the authority in the household. The wife is submissive to her husband as is fit in the Lord and her husband loves her as himself. He has the ultimate authority in his household, but it is tempered with the knowledge that he must answer to God for his actions and decisions. He has the authority to spank his wife for punishment, but in real CDD marriages this is taken very seriously and usually happens only rarely. CDD is so much more than just spanking. It is the husband loving the wife enough to guide and teach her, and the wife loving the husband enough to follow his leadership. A Christian marriage embodies true romance and a Christian man a true hero.

And they have an online store selling "Christian Domestic Discipline" erotic fiction, some things called "herbal expressions," and I am still not making this up, "heirloom intimates"-- muslin pantaloons with an open backside for easy-access Christian spanking.

Silly rabbit, lyme disease is for kids.

The new TRIX "tick remover system." (Via Kevin Kelly's Cool Tools.)

Those Swedes know their ticks better than a guy with Tourette's.

This is actually pretty ingenious and very, well, handy for someone who hikes or has outdoor pets.

This would have been a lot easier than the tweezers and kerosene my parents had to use on my privates to remove 98 baby-ticks after I stepped in a nest on a hike with my dad. I was six. Very scary. I hate ticks more than that chair.

Beatboxing the 'Street

Okay, maybe I am just slow to the urban/street music scene, but I have never heard of beatboxing as a term.

However, this guy (Greg Pattillo) seems really talented beatboxing on the flute. Shout out to Rick415 in NYC: you've got to find this guy on the streets.

(The Sesame Streets?)



See also: Inspector Gadget.

Nightmare on Sesame Street?

When I was very young, under four or five years old, I had a recurring nightmare that a chair in the den would strangle me with one of its legs. I couldn't breathe or call for help. One of the scariest aspects of the dream was that I could barely whisper, and so could not get the attention of my mother, just in the next room, to come and rescue me. The suffocation was very, very real.

We moved to a new house when I was four and took the chair with us. It is still in my parents house, and I still hate that chair.

I had other recurring drowning/suffocating dreams growing up, which I can now attribute to my terrible sleep apnea. While sleeping I was in fact suffocating, and incorporated that experience into the dreams.

But for all of my odd recurring dreams, or dreams with recurring themes, I never had a Sesame Street nightmare that I can recall.

Last week BoingBoing posted an oddity about S.A.M. the Sesame Street robot from the 1970s. This sparked a great deal of reader comment regarding the early Sesame Street content that terrorized and traumatized a generation of kids.

I vaguely remember the Carmen-singing orange, and the Ernie mummy, but neither freaked me out much. I do remember being a little disturbed when muppets would remove too much of their faces. Playing with Bert's nose was one thing, but completely removing the mouth and nose (and eyes) rather bothered me, but probably because of my experience of/fear of asphyxiation.

Particularly noted in this BoingBoing Sesame Street Fears roundup are the "yip yip" aliens. I never thought those guys were scary. I freaking loved those guys. In pre-first grade, Chet Frist and I would "yep yep yep"/"nope nope nope" all the time and think it was hilarious. I still pester him from time to time with a Sesame Street aliens YouTube clip.

Briiiing!

Paraskavedekatriaphobia

By the way, happy Friday the 13th.

Any weirdness going on out there?

Other than elephants in traffic I mean.

Triskaidekaphobia

footprints now ALL OVER the butter

Elephants loose in York (Canada) traffic.

Hilarious, but no joke.

Hear the police dispatch recording here.

"Can I get a twenty on the elephants?"


Related: Can you believe that Wikipedia has an entire entry on Elephant Jokes?

Oh for goodness sakes.

No, seriously.

Xanadu on Broadway got a pretty rave review in the New York Times.

The male lead is being played by Cheyenne Jackson as last-minute and temporary substitute for James Carpinelloas he was, and I assume they are not making this up, "injured in a skating accident and will return to the role when he heals."

Yes, Xanadu is painful to many, and to some it seems quite physically.

With apologies to Mr. Coleridge, Mr. Isherwood praises the stage play, and bemoans the original with the line: "In Xanadu did Newton-John a blooming film career destroy."

I may have to make a special trip to NYC for some XXX theater. Xanadu is currently breaking box office records for its theater.

I wonder if they'll make a porn version (they always seem to)-- XXXandadu.

Overheard at work - 26

WH: I shouldn't go out tonight and drink more money. I just got my Visa bill and I can't believe how much I spent last month, what with the new tech, car insurance, and all that stuff.

SP: At least you're not in the red.

WH: That's because I've been selling my blood.

SP: As what? Lighter fluid?




I can feel the love.


It's kind of tingly.

peppered rose

Seen at the Dolores Park Café: arrangements of chili peppers and roses.

Is this where we get "hot pink"?

It's Thursday

And that means it's 80's night at the Cat.

And Alert Reader Paul Day and Shilpa are losing their shit for it. Amy Day (no relation) is bringing her sister (relation), so it will be Shilpa and four Days. She is not sure she can handle that.

I however want to two-step and go to bed at reasonable time to be responsible for my early-morning meetings tomorrow. Shilpa complained that I am consider my 10:00 A.M. meeting as "early." But I am NOT a morning person. I need to GSD and caffeinate beforehand. But still, I may be convinced to she-bop after boot-scootin'.

Paul Day is working downtown this evening .
Shilpa plans to shop downtown and offered to meet up to share a cab.
Paul thought that was a good idea.

If you know Paul and Shilpa, you know that I am paraphrasing. Big time.

The e-mail chain is as follows:

PD: [Subj: Is your hair teased yet?]

I am so like super excited about tonight.. Like yeah!

SP: [Subj: My leg warmers are ready to go. What a feelin'!]

You are like, so TOTALLY my #1 boyfriend, like ohmigawd!

Gag me with a spoon already.

It is indeed the big night. I feel like it's prom or something.

Since the Bar was too full of crazies, and I got to the Cat too late last time, I feel like this is the big 80s make-up. I'm going to be there as early as I can. I'm going to be in downtown shopping so I can meet you and we can cab together if you want -- to save on dinero...lemme know your thoughts.

PD: [Subj: RE Legwarmers...]

OMG! That like totally works for me! Like where are you going shoppin'? I hear the Chess King is having this totally tubular sale today. Half off all rayon!!

Yes, gentle readers, these... these are my people.

can I touch your wombat?

PAD (again, not PeeDee/Alert Reader Paul Day) was giving a deposition the other day. Now PAD is an English-speaking non-American who does not have cable or watch much tv. And clearly has not watched the fourteen bajillion hours of Law & Order that the rest of us (i.e. me) has.

He came back from his third day of being deposed and reported with titillation, "I heard something new! During the questioning they were getting all in my face about something and my lawyer objected with 'witness badgering'. I've been badgered! That's fantastic!"

As far as PAD knew, a badger was just some form of woodland rodent. To him the expression sounded rather salacious. Perhaps if a woman has a "beaver" then men must have some sort of "badger." He wondered if perhaps "badger" was some form of slang verb. Could one badger a beaver? If straight men are all about a woman's beaver, are gay guys into other guys badgers? If hot slim guys with chest fur are otters, what are gay badgers?

Dunno.

But stay the hell away from my wombat.

And don't get so wombattive.

Or does "wombat" sound more like looking for a misplaced uterus?... "Where your womb-at?"

the Care Bears are next.

You should know by now that I am all about the "unique sentence." There are only so many ways one can rearrange the words in the English language, so you should appreciate it when someone expresses a string you've never heard before. (I credit Jonathan Harwell for this appreciation.)

Considering this, it should come as no surprise that this sentence caught my eye:

A Gummie Bear in Potassium Chlorate.

WTF?

Watch:


From Miss Cellania's Day of Chemistry

Marge!...Beer me.

As long as we're on Lego's, here's a ditty via Miss Cellania:

I want Charles in charge of me!

And by "I," I mean "Shilpa."

She loves Charles in Charge. And I must confess that I enabled her purchase of the DVD box set of the series during Tower's going-out-of-business sale.

I fear the only reason she did not apply for this reality show is that she never heard of it.

And yes, Shilpa, I know you are reading this right now.

Brace yourself for VH1's:

Scott Baio is 45...and Single

Tag line: Hollywood hunk Scott Baio is at a crossroads: Should he keep hooking up or is it time to settle down?

Would we still (ever) call him a "hunk"? "Teen heartthrob," maybe. And judging by the online photos, time has made Baio his bitch. Although a Google image search does reveal some pretty sexy skin back in the day.

Scary Synopsis:

Over the past 25 years, Scott Baio has lived a life that all red-blooded American males' would sell their big screen TV, car and soul for, boasting a jaw-dropping roster of erotic ex's that would even make Warren Beatty blush. This extensive line-up of Hollywood honeys include: Heather Locklear, Pam Anderson, Denise Richards and Nicolette Sheridan.

But now, staring down the barrel of middle age, Scott has come to the end of his philandering rope. At 45, he finds himself at a mid-life crisis of mythic proportions, wondering why he's still single, alone and still unable to settle down and commit to a substantial, meaningful relationship.

With nowhere else to turn, Scott has decided to fully surrender the next eight weeks of his life to a highly-regarded life-coach. This person will guide him on a grueling, soul-searching mission; forcing him to confront a laundry list of old flames in order to hopefully get to the heart of his lonely heart condition.

Each episode, he will have to confront another chapter from his semi-sordid past, by actually reconnecting with some of his most substantial and combustible flames in order to get the bottom of his bad-boy behavior.

With the help of his long-time pals, Scott will be able to successfully sift through the wreckage of his past, and endure an assortment of life-altering activities, (including abstinence), in order to finally earn the chance at actually maintaining a meaningful, stable, healthy relationship.

house hunting

with an elephant gun.

In a fit of sinfully indulgent consumerism, I spent a few, long moments fantasizing about living in this house (and being able to afford its upkeep).

From teh BBC: "The former home of US newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst has 29 bedrooms, three swimming pools, tennis courts, its own cinema and a nightclub."

Too bad it is listing for $165 million.

Seriously? $165 million?

Lordy, imagine if it were in San Francisco...

Legoland/scapes

So very, very cool. (Actually, it might just say more about me that I think this is so very, very cool.)

Flickr member artist Udronotto has posted a photoset of some of his artwork: photographic recreations of classic paintings and photographs, entirely out of Legos.

My favorite is the redux of Edward Hopper's Nighthawks.



But I also like the images from The Graduate and The Last Supper.




If you find an image unfamiliar, scroll down through the comments. Many files feature comments which post the original work for reference.

Will never do

Clearly, I'm back with the blogging.

And feel like I should take a moment to share the love:


(and the pretty.)

FriDance Review

The Friday night Sundance Saloon was a big hit. It was really well attended, the music was good, and each of the dance rooms/halls were full. Lessons in one room, line dancing in another, open dancing in the main room, and even a good crowd for the retro-disco in the Green Room.

On Sunday evenings I have a hard time getting there before 8:30 (it runs 5:30 to 10:30), especially when it is sunny out. Friday's may work better as it is more of an after work (rather than after Play) thing, and doesn't start until 7:30.

There is a downside though-- I joined some mates for the Badlands 2-for-1 happy hour right after work, then had dinner with James before arriving at Sundance actually on-time (a first for me, I know). And with so many friendly and handsome faces there, and such good music, I rarely sat a dance out. (Faces included a surprise appearance by "Treat Williams," whose number I have been carrying around in my pocket for weeks but I did not know had finally moved from LA to SF. And appearances by Shilpa--who was the one who dubbed EM "Treat Williams"--and Amy Day.)

The night was scheduled to run until 1:00 "or later" depending on the crowd. By the time 1:00 came, there were only a dozen or so of us left and we were happy they were closing. My legs had had it. I actually went home and sat in a hot tub. I woke up in the night with my (previously torn) hamstring screaming in pain. I was wiped out the next day and stayed in with a movie Saturday night.

No wonder.

I danced for five hours straight, and in heels boots no less.

it does take a genius

and even then it still might not work.

I took my laptop and my external backup hard drive to Apple's Genius Bar on Saturday to deal with my iPhoto problem. At first, I was just really pissed/panicked that it refused to recognize any 2007 photos. Usually integration is a good thing, but because all of Apple's iLife is integrated, I could not sync my iPod, launch iTunes at home (forcing an AppleTV sync) or update my home page because all of those things inter-relate and I might have lost all my photos completely. As it was, I had the image files still, but the database and libraries which bridge the apps to the files was corrupted.

And their handy "just hold down these keys to rebuild the database" fix did nothing to address the problem.

Add to that problem, Apple's Backup software would not restore the damaged files.

The Apple Genius could not fix the iPhoto problem, nor could he successfully "restore" from the backup. Someone there had a hack to look into the backup directories and pull some of the information out. An hour later, I had all of my photos and albums restored up to the date of the last backup. I tend to backup about once a month, and luckily had just done so a week prior. My backup schedule will be much more frequent from now on.

Not that I feel I can really rag on Apple. This is my second Apple laptop in eight years and the first real problem I've ever had.

With iPhoto restored, I'll start taking pics again, and will resume with the candid entertainments here on IJS.

While SF and the West were experiencing a heat wave all week, Saturday was cold and foggy and wet--miserable conditions for Tony's/Gladys' barbecue cookout. But all things considered, grilled meat with the Sisters and their boys made for a fun afternoon.

We stopped by Moby's on the way home and had a drink with Alert Reader and Shilpa's Boyfriend Paul Day. While we were there Paul noticed Scott Capurro, one of the world's most annoying "comedians" (right above Carrot Top for "Person You'd Least Like to be Trapped With in an Elevator"). Capurro spends most of his SF shilling time on Alice (top 40 radio station) and their morning crew. I had stop listening to their morning show years ago because the DJ's, who J no D's, are so loud and opinionated while at the same time being completely ignorant of their topic, and just grating. (I switched to NPR, but then all of my morning dreams were about Gaza as I slept through the alarm.) My biggest frustration with Alice is that they would frequently feature this comedian, who was never really funny but just vulgar and cruel. His schtick is basically that he is vulgar and gay and isn't that funny? (answer: no.) And Sarah and Vinnie/NoName had their tongues so firmly up his ass it was sycophantic. Grating.

On Thursday morning Capurro was a guest of Fernando and Greg, and was shilling for his appearance at some comedy club-- and clearly bombing on this morning show. With Fernando and Greg, suddenly Capurro was the least funny fag in the room. There is a difference between bitchy, which can be funny (see Joan Rivers; Will & Grace, Jack) and just being a bitch.

And that difference is "clever." There is no wit to Capurro's humor, just bitchness, without a center "i."

His level of arrogance also gets old fast. He keeps claiming that "I'm huge in England." If he's big in England then England must have a tiny hole.

During his Thursday morning appearance, Capurro spent most of his time annoying his hosts, or insulting and denigrating (again without wit or respect) another comedian appearing in town this week. However, this other comedian, Ant, is not only a friend of the hosts, but enormously successful as a stand-up and television performer (Last Comic Standing, Logo), writer, producer, etc. It just got really old really quickly to hear one hackneyed old queen bitch about and act superior to another gay performer, who is clearly out of his league.

Ant also appeared on Fernando and Greg's show the next morning, was hilarious, and totally took the high road vis-a-vis Capurro's insults.

So I am hanging out at Moby's Saturday night with Shilpa, Paul Day, and some of PeeDee's people when Paul recognizes Capurro standing alone near the bathroom/stairs. He was totally alone, and looked rather pathetic. And no one would talk to him. For such an arrogant, self-proclaimed celebrity, he was noticeably without attention. No friends, no companions, and no one would talk to him. He appeared to pose for a while, as if to say "won't someone recognize me?!" Then he played with his phone for bit, then lurked in a corner of the bar and read the free newspapers before ultimately leaving dejected.

Considering the level of crap he heaped on Fernando and Greg's show, and on Ant, I wanted to call the station and give a "loser sighting." Or at least go up to him and say, "Hey, are you Scott Capurro?!.... Can you get us tickets to Ant?"


Update: Capurro called into the show this morning to bitch about his bombing as host of an HRC dinner (which Fernando and Gred are hosting this week) and to plug an appearance in San Jose. Fernando and Greg were only thinly polite and clearly just over it. I called in and spoke to the producer and added my voice to the list of "please no more Scott Capurro" callers. Apparently, they have received tons of calls and e-mails clamoring for his absence.

And then he put me on the air with Fernando and Greg and my "loser sighting" story. Fun.

FriDance Saloon

Last year, Sundance Saloon became so popular they added a Thursday night of country/western dancing. The second night of dancing has become so successful, Sundance Saloon has expanded to Friday nights as well.

At this point, someone should just open a proper country bar South of Market or in the Castro.

Tonight marks the first Friday night of C/W dancing in the City in a long, long while.

And yeah I'm going.
......................................................................................................................................

SUNDANCE SALOON FRIDAY GRAND OPENING JULY 6

Sundance Saloon enters a new era as we open Friday nights beginning July 6.

Friday hours will be 7:30pm - 1:00am (or till the cows come home). Admission $8. There will be three rooms of lessons from 8:00 to 9:00pm: beginning two-step in the Main Room, line dances in the Green Room, and intermediate west coast swing in the Red Room.

Here’s the schedule:

• Open Country-Western Dancing in the Main Room … 9:00pm - 1:00am
• Line Dance Hour in the Green Room … 9:00 - 10:00pm
• Retro Disco Party in the Green Room … 10:00pm - closing
• Country Karaoke in the Red Room … 9:00pm - closing

Sundays and Thursdays will continue with the same format you’re familiar with. We expect Sundays to remain popular as a great way to end the weekend. And Thursdays will still serve as an important opportunity to dance in a less intense and more intimate setting, and to take advantage of the weekly intermediate lessons.


(Click schedule to embiggen.)

Freaking me out

WTF?
And this is just insane.

Talking 'bout a heat wave.

The Bay Area and most of the west is getting pounded with a heat wave. It's like 110-115 degrees in some places in the East Bay.

At my desk, it's like 50. Maybe 40. It's fog cold. And I can't even see the park any more. And it's across the street.

The forecast was for Africa-hot, so I wore a short-sleeved linen shirt to work. The fog rolled back in and I am freezing. But compared to some places, I really, really should not complain.

I'm alive...

...and the world shines for me today.

Finally, Xanadu done right. You may remember Xanadu from such posts as this and this and this, and even this.



From recent reviews comments, the Broadway (yes, I said Broadway version of Xanadu is bound for greatness: great songs, acting, and of course, skating.

I think the best part about the Xanadu stage musical is that it knows its silly and not at all "mythical" like tone of the movie. This is pure fun for fun's same. Take a look at their tag line again:



And their own description: "children's theater for 40-year-old gay men."

Right. On.

I am Xo going to Xanadu.

Codependence Day

Well, the flickr export worked before my iPhoto went all cablooey, so at least I still have the photos from July 4th at Lance's faboo new digs. I didn't take that many photos, and unfortunately none of them really showcase the swankiness of Lance's new house and deck and all of that.

They do, however, showcase some seriously hot lesbians. Charming, interesting, funny, and crazy with the beautiful. Shout out and love to my new girlfriend Toni and her luscious precious Jennifer--the (butter) fly to GayGreg's fruit.



Other pics:




Toni and Jennifer


George and David


Toni: not afraid to spread 'em.


Wilson wants to groove.

And finally, "action" shots of GayGreg and Lance:

I think I'll just have the salad.

Pugs? Sure, a cup or a bowl?


I kind of wish one were in the ladle.

iPhoto breakdown

Importing images this afternoon iPhoto crashed and now no longer recognizes any photos from 2007. That is almost a thousand photos lost. The albums are still there, but no photos. Rebuilding the database has proven useless. The files remain in the proper directory, so I have not lost the originals.

However I have lost every color correction, crop, red-eye correction, album information, and most importantly all captions, tags, descriptions, and metadata.

That is a LOT of work to restore for over a thousand files.

Good news: I recently made a backup of my entire hard drive.
Bad news: Apple's Backup sotware won't let me restore the database.

I have a date with a "Genius" in the Stonestown mall this Saturday. The SF store has been overwhelmed with the iPhone launch and won't take any new customers at its Genius Bar.

Posts featuring or requiring photos by me are suspended until further notice.

Which sucks.

it has come to this

The United States really no longer has any sort of respected international reputation.

Exhibit A--headline from The Times:

US restores pride with hot-dog victory

Why yes, I am that tasty.

This morning Rich shared some of the photos from his time in SF- sadly via Snapfish and not Flickr. (We can't all be Flickr whores I guess.)

This is my favorite by far:


And it reminds me I still haven't posted my Pride week wackiness. Stay tuned.

Captain Nelson

And had it been Major Nelson, it would have been I Dream of Jeannie jokes all night.

Carrington Nelson (now Fox) has been my best friend since we were about six years old. I don't see her much, she being a full-time writer and mother of three (under four) and living in Nashville and all. But still, we're close.

And y'all may remember her fabulous mother Sandy from last year's Steeplechase stories.

Prentiss, her little brother junior by seven years, has been an active-duty Marine serving in Iraq (and in some of the nastiest parts) . After several tours over there is now stationed in the equally sunny but considerably less dangerous San Diego. He called me this week to let me know he would be coming up to SF with some buddies and asked me out for a drink.

Upon hearing this, all the gay guys and the straight women got far too excited that I had a carload of marines headed this way. I was excited to host him but was also anxious about where to entertain a bunch of straight marines. A nice dinner and cool clubs? Cheesy clubs? Strip clubs? What straight clubs are cool any more? I haven't been straight bar crawling since James and mine days in the Mission way back when.

But still, I called James as my best buddy and Go-To Straight Man. I thought they would have the tourist thing covered, so I planned something more local-interest and off-the-guidebooks. I picked a local restaurant known for being amazing and having a good neighborhood vibe—Eric's in Noe Valley (one of my personaly favorite places), and then I thought we would do a Polk Street bar crawl, starting at the always fun Lush Lounge.

It turns out he drove up here not with military buddies, but his girlfriend, who is quite lovely, thoroughly engaging, and all together charming.


So it was just the four of us for dinner (James, Prentiss, Jennifer, and me) followed by vodkas at the Lush. Shilpa, Barney, and Kevin were going to join us for the crawl, but Barney and Kev ultimately couldn't make it, and Amy Day and Helen heard about it from Shilpa and joined us all at the Lush.



So my demographic skewed from my original vision of crazy fun single boys and The Shilpa—we were now 2 straight guys (one taken), four straight girls (one taken with the straight boy), and one 'mo.

James tells an exciting story.

Polk Street on a Monday turned out to be seedier than expected and I am now thinking I should have taken them someplace more picturesque. We crossed to the Hemlock after the Lush, but it was way too loud for my tastes, with crappy metal music no less, and weird 80's skatepunk videos projected on the wall. (To understand why this was unexpected: all of my other nights at the Hemlock have been rockabilly-themed.)

James had been going strong for several days and was coming down from a weekend of partying and camping up in Napa, so we dropped him off to bed before the next stop. All the girls were crying for the Badlands, and Jennifer was keen to take her boyfriend to his first gay bar.

And I could use some better music by far.

The Badlands Monday crowd was kinda lame (and a little creepy) and the musical theme of the night trended deeply to bad rap and hip hop, but we still had a great time (Other than the giant creepy tweaked out guy who would not leave Prentiss alone. I had to block all night. The guy would run his finger along someone, and then strike a pose with his finger pointing to the end of his mouth, as if striking some sort of cutesy 1950's little girl pose. The effect, however, was much more "look at my cold sore!")

Prentiss was a great sport, and seemed to really enjoy himself. Jennifer had a blast, and was excited to buy us all cocksucker shots (there was a sign advertising a special). And all the girls loved Dan the new bartender.


I would say everyone had a good time. We closed the place down.

Badlands.

On a Monday.

We have no shame.



Photos up at flickr.

at least it wasn't in the woods

Barney and I joined Lance and GayGreg for dinner and cocktails in Lance's new home on Sunday.

GayGreg left the apple pie resting in the window...


and Barney promptly admonished him of the old adage that one should not leave apple pies in the window to cool as it attracts bears.


How true.


(Note: No, I do not yet fully self-identify as a "bear.")

wide open letter

The silly queen over at sturtle.com has an open letter to the Harrah's New Orleans regarding their new fumbling attempt to lure gay and lesbian patrons.

It's hilarious.

(Okay, maybe it's not all that funny, but it's a good funny nonetheless.)

please, think of the children

One of my co-workers informed me today that two of her college friends have recently gotten married and are soon to have a little girl. They are likely to hyphenate the last name.

Which is unfortunate because the name will be, and I am not making this up, Shaver-Rump.

I just hope they don't name her Amanda.

not even close

To promote the new Simpsons movie, some 7-Elevens have been transformed into Kwik-E-Marts.

Going to the company Web site to find a location near you, it lists San Francisco under the locations, but the nearest one is in the South Bay tech/podunk town of Mountain View, none in San Francisco.

Let me make this clear: Mountain View is not San Francisco. It's not even close. It's not even on the peninsula.

This is the same sort of lame act the bridge-and-tunnel/South Bay set pull when they are trying to appear cool.

"Where are you from?"
"San Francisco."
"What neighborhood?"
"Oh, Hayward."

Loosely translated, that means you don't really live in San Francisco, but more likely in a trailer, and are posing.

And it's rather disturbing to see this level of insecurity and desperation for hipness-by-proxy displayed by a corporate entity.

workplace joke

just to amuse you:
-------------------------------
The Boss had to fire someone. He had narrowed it down to one of two people, Debra or Jack. It was an impossible decision, they were both super workers. Rather than flip a coin, he decided he would fire the first one who used the water cooler the next morning. Debra came in the next morning with a horrible hangover after partying all night. She went to the cooler to take an aspirin.

The Boss approached her and said: "Debra, I've never done this before but I have to lay you or Jack off."

"Could you jack off?" she says. "I feel like crap."

In case you're wondering

Why, even though I went to library school, I do not work in a library.