Word.
Showing posts with label Valentines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Valentines. Show all posts
Friday, February 14, 2014
you spin me round round baby right round
Oh, someone sent me an Olympic-related Valentine. I heart this.
loving cup
How will I know?
Appropriate to Valentine's Day, and via Alert Reader Jimmi and Jezebel, the isolated vocals of Whitney Houston on "How Will I Know?"
I was always a casual fan of Whitney's, more distracted by the completely tragic personal life with a mother who hater her for being gay and the abusive closet and abusive relationship she had to live in to survive, but WOW, her voice.
Just, wow.
I love the produced version, but the vocal track is almost chilling. And it made me think of the vocal version sung by the Glee trio to open their memorial episode, which is also rather haunting in its beauty.
(forgive the subtitles, this is best version available on YouTube)
I was always a casual fan of Whitney's, more distracted by the completely tragic personal life with a mother who hater her for being gay and the abusive closet and abusive relationship she had to live in to survive, but WOW, her voice.
Just, wow.
I love the produced version, but the vocal track is almost chilling. And it made me think of the vocal version sung by the Glee trio to open their memorial episode, which is also rather haunting in its beauty.
(forgive the subtitles, this is best version available on YouTube)
petal to the mettle
An omen? A sad commentary on my love life? Or perhaps or a subtle Valentine form the City that I love? In my path on the walk to work on this wet morning, a single, rain-dropped red rose petal.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
sweet Valentine
Single on Valentine's. But the office hosted a homemade "cookie exchange." No sweetie but surrounded by sweets. All diet bets are off.
I know that food is not love. But it tastes like love...
I know that food is not love. But it tastes like love...
silence of the Valentine
It's a little tough to realize at 42 I've never had a Valentine. That is to say, I've never had a romantic other on Valentine's Day. Meh. It could be worse.
This, however, I can celebrate.
This, however, I can celebrate.
Tuesday, February 05, 2013
the red strokes
A valentine to my math nerd.
The Math Nerd in me loves this. The Grammar Nerd in me wants to reach for the red pen.
"I wish I *were* your derivative..."
I'm afraid my love letter back would read like this:
Dear Math,
A statement of condition requires the subjunctive case.
Love,
Grammar
And yet, somehow, I wonder why I am alone...
Friday, February 17, 2012
It's Valentine's season, and I'm not wearing any pants.
Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco fifty years ago, and the rest of us are still looking for our pants.
It was a festive, and not entirely single, Valentine's weekend in SF. About a dozen bars hosted a Castro-wide pajama party on Saturday night, billed as the First Annual Pajama Jam. You know me. I'm a party joiner. Hunter, my new buddy and bear bar wing man, was game. He was a bit worried though about dressing up. At first he was nervous about a pajama party, because he sleeps in the nude. I had to clarify that this wasn't a "come as you sleep" party—even though I did wear my actual sleep clothes (comfy!)—but rather "costume." This was advertised as a neighborhood slumber party.
Furthermore, there was some stress on Hunter's part that if we dressed up, and no one else did, we would look foolish. He asked, "What happens if we show up and we're the only ones in pajamas?" My answer was simple, "Then we OWN it." In my opinion, if we show up in a bar in our pajamas, that makes us the cool ones. And empirical data backs me up on this. It's not like this is without precedent.
Hunter was on board. And even asked to include another new friend of his whom he met via Scruff. The more the merrier, although sadly, he turned out to be NPLU and too timid to leave the house in PJs. Sad face.
Parking on 18th, the Edge was our first stop, and we didn't get 15 feet before seeing friendly faces in the slumber gear. My amazing body worker Alex was one of the first friends I saw in sleepwear. On the corner with his friend Barrett, I tried to get another patron to take a photo, but there was a fairly steady parade of bedtime beauties walking by and it proved a challenge to get us all looking at the camera at the same time.
While our plan was for a Castro Crawl, we didn't make it to many bars. We started at the Edge, which was definitely a bar in the spirit of things. Love my gays. This one I did not know, but I loved his style. The pink foam curlers really made the bed set.
Hunter and Craig are a little shy, and we started out the night merely people watching and making commentary. When a fuscia-haired mad woman in a fur cap made her way loudly through the bar with a young cuter behind her dressed in a white onesie in her wake, Craig said, "My God... would you look at that woman..."
To which I cried, "Wilma!" Love the Wilma. (Some folks also call me Wilma, and we are most certainly a party of two.) Accompanying Wilma was the ridiculously adorable Kris, a visiting English lad who was most in theme in a Where the Wild Things footsie pajama set complete with hood and tail. He made it himself, and brought along pastel fabric markers for people to comment on the fuzzy, fleecy fabric should they be so inclined. Hunter and Greg thought he was in a bunny costume, and from then on he has affectionately been referred to as The Bunny.
The Bunny sensed an immediate intimacy with me and sought some personal advice fairly early on in our relationship. "What do you know about cock rings?" He had never worn one before, and someone had given him one for the night to, shall we say, help put his best foot forward. He asked if I might check it out for him and being the kind and generous soul (yes, that's what I'm going with) that I am, I obliged.
Good heavens am I glad I did. Someone gave him a thick gauge black disposable rubber ring whose diameter was such that I was surprised his bits and pieces hadn't already shriveled up and fallen off from band ligation. I quickly said, "Oh dear. That has got to come off. No wonder you're in pain. Let's go next door and get you a proper one." I had to take a moment for how much I love this town: I'm at a neighborhood party, celebrating in theme and costume, enjoying friends, invited to inspect a cutie's cuties, and was going to pop next door to the greeting card, gift and adult toy store, owned by a rodeo friend, to shop for a steel cock ring with as much nonchalance and neighborly charm as borrowing a cup of sugar. The Bunny was a guest in SF after all, and being an (im)proper host is just good manners.
The ring shopping was, as you might imagine, a bit surreal. But entirely amusing. He needed to try on a couple of sizes, and he took my advice as to style and substance. He also asked for my assistance in the fitting and it was all rather clinical and matter-of-fact, as if he were merely trying on a shirt at Macy's. I half expected him to ask me if that cock ring made him look fat. (Well, yes—but in the good way.) At one point I had to pick up something he dropped and I found myself down on one knee and offering him a ring.
This was all so... so sudden...
And it was at this moment that Hunter and Craig came in looking for us.
Where the Wild Things Are indeed.
Appropriately girded, I returned The Bunny to Wilma and rejoined Hunter and Craig. The Bunny and I were to enjoy each other's company repeatedly along the crawl, although even the Engergizer can get over-served. Hunter, Craig and I closed down 440, coming full circle by hanging out with Alex and Barrett with whom we started the adventure. And shout to Barrett for party jammin' my Pajama Jam.
Sunday morning I enjoyed a pre-Warren Helman memorial Bluegrass Brunch at the Hotel Utah with Mike Anderson and Misispi Mike (LOVE to Gilly). The rave review of the new menu, new chef, and Rocking Robert will be posted next.
Sunday night completed the Valentine's-themed weekend with Sundance Saloon's annual Sweethearts Ball and underwear party: "Boots, Bras and Briefs."
It's Valentine's. I'm single. And I am not wearing any pants.
Oh San Francisco, won't you be mine?
It was a festive, and not entirely single, Valentine's weekend in SF. About a dozen bars hosted a Castro-wide pajama party on Saturday night, billed as the First Annual Pajama Jam. You know me. I'm a party joiner. Hunter, my new buddy and bear bar wing man, was game. He was a bit worried though about dressing up. At first he was nervous about a pajama party, because he sleeps in the nude. I had to clarify that this wasn't a "come as you sleep" party—even though I did wear my actual sleep clothes (comfy!)—but rather "costume." This was advertised as a neighborhood slumber party.
Furthermore, there was some stress on Hunter's part that if we dressed up, and no one else did, we would look foolish. He asked, "What happens if we show up and we're the only ones in pajamas?" My answer was simple, "Then we OWN it." In my opinion, if we show up in a bar in our pajamas, that makes us the cool ones. And empirical data backs me up on this. It's not like this is without precedent.
Hunter was on board. And even asked to include another new friend of his whom he met via Scruff. The more the merrier, although sadly, he turned out to be NPLU and too timid to leave the house in PJs. Sad face.
Parking on 18th, the Edge was our first stop, and we didn't get 15 feet before seeing friendly faces in the slumber gear. My amazing body worker Alex was one of the first friends I saw in sleepwear. On the corner with his friend Barrett, I tried to get another patron to take a photo, but there was a fairly steady parade of bedtime beauties walking by and it proved a challenge to get us all looking at the camera at the same time.
While our plan was for a Castro Crawl, we didn't make it to many bars. We started at the Edge, which was definitely a bar in the spirit of things. Love my gays. This one I did not know, but I loved his style. The pink foam curlers really made the bed set.
Hunter and Craig are a little shy, and we started out the night merely people watching and making commentary. When a fuscia-haired mad woman in a fur cap made her way loudly through the bar with a young cuter behind her dressed in a white onesie in her wake, Craig said, "My God... would you look at that woman..."
To which I cried, "Wilma!" Love the Wilma. (Some folks also call me Wilma, and we are most certainly a party of two.) Accompanying Wilma was the ridiculously adorable Kris, a visiting English lad who was most in theme in a Where the Wild Things footsie pajama set complete with hood and tail. He made it himself, and brought along pastel fabric markers for people to comment on the fuzzy, fleecy fabric should they be so inclined. Hunter and Greg thought he was in a bunny costume, and from then on he has affectionately been referred to as The Bunny.
The Bunny sensed an immediate intimacy with me and sought some personal advice fairly early on in our relationship. "What do you know about cock rings?" He had never worn one before, and someone had given him one for the night to, shall we say, help put his best foot forward. He asked if I might check it out for him and being the kind and generous soul (yes, that's what I'm going with) that I am, I obliged.
Good heavens am I glad I did. Someone gave him a thick gauge black disposable rubber ring whose diameter was such that I was surprised his bits and pieces hadn't already shriveled up and fallen off from band ligation. I quickly said, "Oh dear. That has got to come off. No wonder you're in pain. Let's go next door and get you a proper one." I had to take a moment for how much I love this town: I'm at a neighborhood party, celebrating in theme and costume, enjoying friends, invited to inspect a cutie's cuties, and was going to pop next door to the greeting card, gift and adult toy store, owned by a rodeo friend, to shop for a steel cock ring with as much nonchalance and neighborly charm as borrowing a cup of sugar. The Bunny was a guest in SF after all, and being an (im)proper host is just good manners.
The ring shopping was, as you might imagine, a bit surreal. But entirely amusing. He needed to try on a couple of sizes, and he took my advice as to style and substance. He also asked for my assistance in the fitting and it was all rather clinical and matter-of-fact, as if he were merely trying on a shirt at Macy's. I half expected him to ask me if that cock ring made him look fat. (Well, yes—but in the good way.) At one point I had to pick up something he dropped and I found myself down on one knee and offering him a ring.
This was all so... so sudden...
And it was at this moment that Hunter and Craig came in looking for us.
Where the Wild Things Are indeed.
Appropriately girded, I returned The Bunny to Wilma and rejoined Hunter and Craig. The Bunny and I were to enjoy each other's company repeatedly along the crawl, although even the Engergizer can get over-served. Hunter, Craig and I closed down 440, coming full circle by hanging out with Alex and Barrett with whom we started the adventure. And shout to Barrett for party jammin' my Pajama Jam.
Sunday morning I enjoyed a pre-Warren Helman memorial Bluegrass Brunch at the Hotel Utah with Mike Anderson and Misispi Mike (LOVE to Gilly). The rave review of the new menu, new chef, and Rocking Robert will be posted next.
Sunday night completed the Valentine's-themed weekend with Sundance Saloon's annual Sweethearts Ball and underwear party: "Boots, Bras and Briefs."
It's Valentine's. I'm single. And I am not wearing any pants.
Oh San Francisco, won't you be mine?
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Happy Valentine's Day
Oh how romantic! What did I have planned for tonight?
Oh. "No events." Well shit.
Oh. "No events." Well shit.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Happy V
I didn't get around to posting anything for Valentine's Day yesterday as it was just too busy of a day. I would like to offer you a little hunka hunka burnin' Elvis lovin'.
And a female friend I know, who had received flowers from her beau earlier in the week, received this card from her increasingly significant other.
I did feel the need to ask, "If he sent you a dozen flowers, how many..."
And a female friend I know, who had received flowers from her beau earlier in the week, received this card from her increasingly significant other.
I did feel the need to ask, "If he sent you a dozen flowers, how many..."
Friday, February 11, 2011
This week in Fun February
Some things on my calendar for this week:
Friday night (tonight): The monthly Lick It! (What do you have a taste for?) fundraiser at the Powerhouse hosted by IML (runner up) and super nice guy Lance Holman.
Saturday Feb 12: Fundraiser for the Bay Area Chapter of the GSGRA (the Gay Rodeo), ridiculously awesome drag show, and Empress election rally for Saybeline at the Lookout! 4:00 to 8:00 p.m.
Sunday Feb 13: Sweethearts' Ball and Underwear Party at Sundance Saloon (hot dancing in your skivvies!), the GlamaZone at the Cafe hosted by Pollo Del Mar, and the usual furry fun-ness late night at 440.
Monday Feb 14: Valentine's Day options abound in the City, from Lovers Lane to the Bitter Ball. If you don't have plans by now, I can't help you. If you are feeling lonely, toss back a couple of shots and join any one of the hundred underwear parties across the City for any and all orientations. Ben and I got tickets for a Victor/Victoria Valentine with the incomparable Leslie Ann Warren (hosted by Coco Peru) at the Castro Theater and I pee myself just a little every time I think about it. Sold out.
Tuesday Feb 15: Fanboy Night at the Lone Star. This time: Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog.
Wednesday Feb 16: Beat the Gong talent show/competition at Trigger. Benefits the Bay Area Gay Rodeo. 6:00 p.m.
Thursday Feb 17: Sundance Saloon, the SF Bluegrass and Old Time Festival at Cafe Du Nord, and the 1984 dance party has officially moved to Mighty with like totally awesome reviews.
Friday Feb 18: Mr. Powerhouse Leather 2011 competition, Trannyshack's Stevie Nicks Tribute Night at DNA Lounge,Paw at Deco (that's next week), and the (final) International Bear Rendez-Vous kicks into high gear. Go Grizzlies!
Friday night (tonight): The monthly Lick It! (What do you have a taste for?) fundraiser at the Powerhouse hosted by IML (runner up) and super nice guy Lance Holman.
Saturday Feb 12: Fundraiser for the Bay Area Chapter of the GSGRA (the Gay Rodeo), ridiculously awesome drag show, and Empress election rally for Saybeline at the Lookout! 4:00 to 8:00 p.m.
Sunday Feb 13: Sweethearts' Ball and Underwear Party at Sundance Saloon (hot dancing in your skivvies!), the GlamaZone at the Cafe hosted by Pollo Del Mar, and the usual furry fun-ness late night at 440.
Monday Feb 14: Valentine's Day options abound in the City, from Lovers Lane to the Bitter Ball. If you don't have plans by now, I can't help you. If you are feeling lonely, toss back a couple of shots and join any one of the hundred underwear parties across the City for any and all orientations. Ben and I got tickets for a Victor/Victoria Valentine with the incomparable Leslie Ann Warren (hosted by Coco Peru) at the Castro Theater and I pee myself just a little every time I think about it. Sold out.
Tuesday Feb 15: Fanboy Night at the Lone Star. This time: Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog.
Wednesday Feb 16: Beat the Gong talent show/competition at Trigger. Benefits the Bay Area Gay Rodeo. 6:00 p.m.
Thursday Feb 17: Sundance Saloon, the SF Bluegrass and Old Time Festival at Cafe Du Nord, and the 1984 dance party has officially moved to Mighty with like totally awesome reviews.
Friday Feb 18: Mr. Powerhouse Leather 2011 competition, Trannyshack's Stevie Nicks Tribute Night at DNA Lounge,
Sunday, February 14, 2010
sidelined
Some flu virus, I'm guessing not H1N1, has been being passed dutifully around departments at work, and I was one of the unlucky recipients this week. This thing knocked me OUT. It occurred to me why I hate being sick so much—other than the suffering: it takes up all my time. (not even the energy, inclination, or information to blog. sheesh).
And what a week it's been to be sidelined in SF: MacWorld (and Bryan!), Boylesque at Push, Lick It, Mr. Powerhouse for IML (Go Lance!), a week of events and dances for IBR, and a cavalcade of Valentine's-themed events. And nothing says "be my Valentine" like rumbling wet cough. And my left ear hasn't unpopped in two days. Sexy.
I have been consoled that while this week has been full of fun things to do, it is still a fairly typical SF week. The week is always full of cool events and I'll just jump back in the game later.
So Happy Valentine's Day to those of you who have one (still on the 0 from my recent 0 for 3 run, married man not withstanding).
I am still looking forward to the Sweetheart's Ball tonight, and have rested up all weekend for it.
You know how much I love not wearing any pants.
And what a week it's been to be sidelined in SF: MacWorld (and Bryan!), Boylesque at Push, Lick It, Mr. Powerhouse for IML (Go Lance!), a week of events and dances for IBR, and a cavalcade of Valentine's-themed events. And nothing says "be my Valentine" like rumbling wet cough. And my left ear hasn't unpopped in two days. Sexy.
I have been consoled that while this week has been full of fun things to do, it is still a fairly typical SF week. The week is always full of cool events and I'll just jump back in the game later.
So Happy Valentine's Day to those of you who have one (still on the 0 from my recent 0 for 3 run, married man not withstanding).
I am still looking forward to the Sweetheart's Ball tonight, and have rested up all weekend for it.
You know how much I love not wearing any pants.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
my funny, teen-aged, angst-ridden Valentine
February 12 & 13 at the Castro Theater, Midnites for Maniacs is hosting a two-day seven-film tribute to John Hughes at the Castro Theater.
I may have to see Some Kind of Wonderful at the Castro. I loved that film. And its soundtrack (I was so alternative).
Friday, Feb 12
7:30 Some Kind of Wonderful
9:30 Ferris Bueller's Day Off
11:45 National Lampoon's Vacation (written by John Huges, Directed by Harold Ramis)
Saturday, Feb 13
2:00 Sixteen Candles
4:15 The Breakfast Club
6:30 Pretty in Pink
8:45 Planes, Trains and Automobiles
I may have to see Some Kind of Wonderful at the Castro. I loved that film. And its soundtrack (I was so alternative).Friday, Feb 12
7:30 Some Kind of Wonderful
9:30 Ferris Bueller's Day Off
11:45 National Lampoon's Vacation (written by John Huges, Directed by Harold Ramis)
Saturday, Feb 13
2:00 Sixteen Candles
4:15 The Breakfast Club
6:30 Pretty in Pink
8:45 Planes, Trains and Automobiles
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Friday, February 15, 2008
theater queens
Last week we closed down the Plush Room. Kevin took me and Kelly to the final performance in our favorite space: The Plush Room. Added bonus: the performer was the fabulous Varla Jean Merman. (This show was Varla Jean Merman Loves a Foreign Tongue. Hilarious.)
I had actually seen the show earlier in the week as I had gotten tickets with Javits. This show was a surprise theater present from Kevin (we do that), so I didn't know what I was seeing Saturday night. Good for me, this show bears repeat performances, I was excited to see it twice.
Also, the more nights in the Plush the happier I am. And considering the venue and the performer, it was like going to a nice gay cocktail party where you run into many friends. Although the mid-week performance had far too manyexes boys I would just as soon not see again.
Luckily for me, Saturday night, the farewell performance for the plush also featured some of my good friends who are no strangers to the room—as often in the audience as on stage.
Jorge Hernandez, Ron Jenkins, Steve, Sean Ray
Mary sheds a tear.
And last night (Valentine's night, and after the pillow fight) Kevin took me (and Shawn and Kelly) to another surprise show, Carrie Fisher at the Berkeley Rep doing her one-woman show: Wishful Drinking.
Now this was SUCH a Wilson and Kevin show. And I don't have the time to wax on about how entertaining the show was. It will just have to suffice to say that I loved it, and it was made so much the more fun by seeing it with my co-conspirator who totally gets this sort of humor, and understands why tragic family stories can be comic.
The show was full of good one-liners, but for the life on me I can't recall one at the moment. The chalkboard of her family/Celebrity Inbreeding 101 was genius, priceless, and hilarious.
I had actually seen the show earlier in the week as I had gotten tickets with Javits. This show was a surprise theater present from Kevin (we do that), so I didn't know what I was seeing Saturday night. Good for me, this show bears repeat performances, I was excited to see it twice.
Also, the more nights in the Plush the happier I am. And considering the venue and the performer, it was like going to a nice gay cocktail party where you run into many friends. Although the mid-week performance had far too many
Luckily for me, Saturday night, the farewell performance for the plush also featured some of my good friends who are no strangers to the room—as often in the audience as on stage.
Jorge Hernandez, Ron Jenkins, Steve, Sean Ray
Mary sheds a tear.And last night (Valentine's night, and after the pillow fight) Kevin took me (and Shawn and Kelly) to another surprise show, Carrie Fisher at the Berkeley Rep doing her one-woman show: Wishful Drinking.
Now this was SUCH a Wilson and Kevin show. And I don't have the time to wax on about how entertaining the show was. It will just have to suffice to say that I loved it, and it was made so much the more fun by seeing it with my co-conspirator who totally gets this sort of humor, and understands why tragic family stories can be comic.
The show was full of good one-liners, but for the life on me I can't recall one at the moment. The chalkboard of her family/Celebrity Inbreeding 101 was genius, priceless, and hilarious.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Cure for Shyness
Sent in a while back from Alert Reader Chuck.
Just in time for Valentine's Day.
Pay attention to the warnings. Ask your doctor or pharmacist.
Just in time for Valentine's Day.
Pay attention to the warnings. Ask your doctor or pharmacist.
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