Usually, I just order takeout faggot

HAD DINNER ON MONDAY with some college friends at The Spotted Pig here in New York, and when I saw this on the specials menu, I had to order it.














It was pork cheek wrapped in pork liver with fried slivers of pig ear on top. Still not entirely sure how that translates into the name, but perhaps the pig was really into Miley Cyrus?

"Your body may be fat...

... but your confidence is thin."

There are no words.

Cleveland's Next Top Model - Episode 2

"My gentleman friend Larry says that I have the ***** of a 12-year-old."

Spring is springing

THE WEATHER IS JUST beginning to warm up here in New York. Spring is arriving in fits and starts; although it was colder than a witch's titty for a few hours this afternoon, we had a gorgeous Saturday, which I spent lying around and napping with Oscar, windows open and fan gently blowing. Check out the sweet kitty porn from our love session.














See how I seduce you?

The true indication that spring is on its way, however, is that songs built for floating out of cars windows are starting to show. True to form, Usher has hit springtime hard with a skittery banger called "Love in This Club." It's already topped the Billboard charts, but the video just dropped and it's got everything you'd want: pretty colors, flashing lights, great choreography, sexy hip-hop ladies and total nonsense for a plot.

Ole!

Usher - "Love in This Club (Director's Cut)"

We all know what kind of club Usher means. Bring a towel!

In which I defile my classmates

DESPITE INSISTING MY FRIENDS avoid 4 Girls at all costs, apparently the reaction video would not suffice for a few. Behold as the shame spiral captures a five new victims.

Cluster H Watches 4 Girls

The pride of our alma mater.

Reacting much cuter than I ever could

IN KEEPING WITH the ever devolving nature of this blog, here's another reaction video, this time to babies tasting lemons.

Lemons! And Babies! It's the cutest chemical reaction of all time.

In about three posts, we'll be Cute Overload.

Babies Eating Lemons

See more funny videos at CollegeHumor

My heart swells and I could die.

In which I make my internet debut

THIS IS AN INAUSPICIOUS WAY of introducing myself to the internet, but I'm going to jump on the 4 Girls Finger Paint reaction video bandwagon here.

For anyone who hasn't seen the wretched clip of which I speak, let my reaction suffice. Do not, under any circumstances, see this video for yourself. It was vile. But do you see how I suffer for my art?

4 Girls Finger Paint Reaction

I know it when I see it. And now I wish I hadn't.

In which I am grateful for my father

A GROUP FROM MY CHURCH back home put a proposal in favor of same-sex marriage before the church's vestry, which is like the church's board of directors.

My mom has been involved in the effort from the beginning, which is wonderful, if not entirely surprising: her middle initial, L, effectively stands for liberal. The woman has never met a minority group she didn't adore, which she made abundantly clear by attending a gay pride parade just weeks after I came out, and years before I could have stepped foot near a leather daddy wearing chaps and nipple clamps.

On the day of the presentation to the vestry, however, my mom, who is a member of the city's school board, had a last minute meeting to save public education, and was forced to pull out of the presentation.

Then something even better happened: my dad agreed to attend. He even agreed to speak in her place.

I can't tell you how proud this made me. My father never makes public statements on political issues, and his private statements on, say, foreign policy have been known to include the statement "Bomb the bastards back to the Stone Age." Moreover, like any good Yankee, the man has a strict "Don't ask, don't tell" policy when it comes to sexuality - homo or otherwise.

What's amazing to me is that my parents, while motivated by my stake in the issue, both made it clear that they aren't doing this on my behalf. For them, this is about doing what's right, what's just, and what's good.

I want to share what my father said said because it's beautiful.

(Warning: there are a few sentences where he goes on as fathers will about their children. I am not trying to be immodest in posting those sentiments; I'd prefer to share this whole cloth).

I am not here this evening to speak as a member of the St. Francis parish, although I have been for a quarter century.

Nor am I here to speak as the father of a son who is gay, who I love beyond any words. That said, when I think of him, I think of Ernest Hemingway’s profound observation that “Courage is grace under pressure.” The courage and grace he has shown in dealing with his sexuality - first to his family, then to his friends, and then to the great unknown that is society - leaves me in awe. I don’t know if I could have ever summoned his strength and his belief in the essential goodness of people.

No, tonight I’d like to speak with you about a matter that goes beyond St. Francis and the Episcopal Church, but strikes to the most American of values. We are a people who believe deeply in fairness and equality. They are qualities that more than two centuries ago sparked a flame that allowed the rest of the world to dream of - and embrace - democracy and which make us a universal symbol of hope to this day.

No one wakes up in the morning and decides they want to be gay. Why would they want to be loathed by people who don’t know anything about their dreams and hopes and fears? Why would they want to be the subject of cultural ridicule? And why, finally, would they be willing to face discrimination from the institutions they value most, including their church where, in my son's case, he was Baptized, received First Holy Communion, and served as an Acolyte before he outgrew the robes.

I am not well-versed in the intricacies of Episcopal dogma or politics, either at the international, national or, most importantly, local level - and honestly, they don’t particularly interest me. What I am concerned about is this fundamental issue of humanity.

In 1966, Bobby Kennedy traveled to South Africa, a country then suffocating under the boot of their loathsome and, ultimately, self-destructive, policy of Apartheid. Kennedy spoke at the University of Capetown and said this:

“It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”

Today, the question before us is more subtle but it calls to us the same essential questions Bob Kennedy asked:

If not now, when? And if not here, where?

He used to look good to me, but now...

IF THERE'S ONE THING I like, it's a winner. Thus, as Obama comes ever closer to clinching the nomination, I find him ever more attractive. I mean, why root for a loser? Instead, just say, "Oh, I don't know, I like them both; I'll be happy either way."

Perhaps my ambivalence is rooted in my deep seeded guilt at being the white male oppressor. If I come out too strong for Hilary, I'm a racist; too strong for Barack and I'm just reinforcing the glass ceiling. After all, isn't it her turn? Doesn't she deserve it? Too bad there isn't a gay candidate, this would be so much easier.

Ultimately, I blame New York. If I still lived in DC, my friends would never let me get away with being on the fence. Here in The City, however, people break out in hives when you try to talk politics with them.

It's unsettling, however, that I somehow have developed stronger opinions about who I think should be the next American Idol than I have about who should be the next president, despite listening to NPR every day and reading the New York Times online religiously. What's the point in learning so much about the candidates if someone hasn't told me what to think by now?

Well, consider my dilemma solved.

Barack Obama-sistible

Welcome to their home.

FOUR FRIENDS STARTED A BLOG recently and it's pretty great. Three of the four contributors live together, which makes for some fun posts about the things you only learn about people when in very close quarters. Given that there are multiple contributors, the blog has a scattershot quality to it, but it's fun because you can get to know each of them.

A few weeks back, one of the guys wrote about a one night stand that turned into a two day affair; it's wonderful, particularly his discussion of the morning after that became the whole next day and night. It has a kind of honesty that gets you, like at the end when he writes:

He gets up and walks across the room and hugs me. This is a not the weak, pacify-your-sadness hug that I've felt before. Nor is it the lame generic sympathy hug. He wraps all of himself around me, and we fold into each other on the modern green angular sofa. This is the hug that seems to say, "I have room for you". It's more connection than intimacy, but feels amazing in a way that I hadn't realized I missed until now.

Check out the post at Fuzzy Mimosa.

And here's the absolutely brilliant Brenda Dickson parody that gave the blog its name. If you haven't seen this, sit down and watch. It's bizarre and perfect.

Brenda Dickson - Welcome to My Home

"As long as I don't bleed or cry I'll do it."

Novel uses for shovels: Episode 1

KANYE'S VIDEO FOR "FLASHING LIGHTS" has some amazing cinematography, gorgeous colors, and the girl has a serious swerve. Something about it reminds me of the Arcade Fire video mash-up I posted a while back, something about the pacing and the cold, silent violence, but this one is definitely more hip-hop.

The song is typical Kanye - stunning beat, great sample, tiresome, self-congratulatory lyrics - but I like the video enough to post it anyway.

Kanye West - "Flashing Lights"

Fur is murder.

You gotta be bad/bold

THE GENTLEMEN WHO GRACE my stoop (who apparently never need to sleep) decided to celebrate the coming dawn this morning by blasting some reggaeton track from their hoopdie at 5:30 AM.

These fairly regular impromptu parties usually come and go without incident (with the notable exception of a few weeks ago when someone leaned out the window and screamed "It's two-fucking-thirty in the morning" to no avail). This morning, however, was different. Apparently tired of having the party forced on them, a neighbor across the street decided to fight back. This brave soul mustered all of their courage and decided to return fire with their most effective weapon: "Strong Enough" by Cher.

Really? Cher? That is the most feeble shit, and yet totally brilliant. There's nothing that would make those guys want to go party someplace else. And you know what? It worked.

I think the next time it happens, I'm putting my speakers in the window and blasting Des'ree.

Let's take back the night.


Fear this.

You should have heard me do "Sometimes"

I'VE ONLY SEEN ONE episode of MTV's "Rob and Big," the one where Rob decides he's going to buy a miniature pony and lets it live in the house. The show is fun in a way that catches you off guard. As Heather put it, it's like watching a 14-year-old boy with unlimited funds live his dream life, and that's strangely amusing.

On some recent episode, Rob and Big go to a car wash; the new Enrique song comes on, and Rob just goes crazy dancing to it. Behold.



This reminds me so much of high school, it's not even funny. The only difference is that rather than an overweight black man, I was with my best friend Lex, and rather than Enrique, it was Britney, and rather than dancing, I was singing the harmony part in the last chorus of "Oops! I Did it Again." But the general idea is the same.

Four score and seven queers ago

MAYBE THE RUMORS ONLY exist in the sequin and lube corner of the world, but there are rumors nevertheless that President Abraham Lincoln was gay. Of course, this was before Freud had defined homosexuality in the way we mean it today, but there's something glorious about the idea. Hell, if Obama can claim him, so can I, right?

The US Treasury is doing their part to keep my hopes alive. I present you the new $5 Bill. Tell me the big purple five isn't the queerest thing you've ever seen! It's like it's popping out to say, "Hey girl!"

For whom the bell may be tolling.

THE TIMES HAS BEEN running a series of articles recently that suggest the Clinton campaign has been subtly closing up shop. They're sad articles, because they portray Hillary as a passionate candidate who, while ever realistic about her chances, remains deeply committed to the difference she could make in the lives of Americans.

The articles are especially heartbreaking because they remind me of women who strove mightily to achieve greatness, and ought to have won those achievements, but for whatever reason never quite did. Of course, they call into question Hillary's ability to be an effective, inspirational leader if she can't even convince her own campaign staff to tough it out and remain optimistic until the final act. And yet there's something about the whole situation that makes me want to donate to her campaign, to demonstrate my appreciation, if not necessarily my support.

Hillary's slow deflation doesn't make me any more excited about Obama. If anything, I've grown more disillusioned by his one note campaign over the past few weeks. As we've watched Hillary's slow fade, he's failed to step into the vacuum she's leaving, failed to inspire confidence in his ability to do anything more than simply provide some vague inspiration. I want as much as anyone for this country to be united, for us to move past the old divisions that hardened during the Clinton era, but the truth is that those differences don't simply disappear, and I'm not sure he has goals beyond redrawing the lines that divide us.

Hindsight is always 20/20, but it seems that one of Clinton's campaign's greatest failings was the sense of inevitability they injected into the race during those early months. You never really felt like you needed to get involved because the assumption was that she was going to win with our without you. To this day, I think Hillary supporters still believe Hillary will pull it out in the remaining states, that ultimately, they don't need to get involved because Obama's magic is sure to run out if she can just hold on long enough.

Lint Licker!

A GOOD FRIEND GREW UP in Utah, where cursing ranks right up there with caffeine and liquor on the reasons why Utah is not a place I could ever live.

When he came to college, it took him a while to get used to using real swear words rather than shorter abbreviations that leave no room for doubt as to what you're really saying (and therefore, IMHO, negating the whole point of not swearing in the first place). It's like girls who, to protect their virginity, have anal with the entire football team - a practice that is very much alive and well at BYU, according to sources.

Regardless, to this day, we all get a kick out of responding to an insult with an indignant "fuh that."

This commercial reminded me of that friend. Voila.


"Pickle you, cumquat!"

Still thrilled.

I GOT MY SUMMER offer a week and four hours ago and I'm still absurdly happy about it. When I was pounding the pavement looking for an internship, a sense of dread would wash over me a couple times a day. Now, I'll be walking between classes and my mind will switch into recruiting mode, thinking about what I need to do, or who I need to call. And then it will hit me that I don't need to think about that anymore. My heart will swell a little and I'll smile. If it hits me while I'm standing waiting for the subway listening to music, I'll realize that I'm shaking my ass just a little to the beat.

It's weird to be this happy about something that you know is going to be really tough, something that's going to gobble up your personal life and be a source of stress in the future. But for now I'm trying not to think about that, and focusing on feeling like this:

Dooce - Leta Learns to Splash

splashing in the tub from dooce on Vimeo.
Next up, insanely cute puppies.

[Via Dooce]

No country for old men/risen Lords

IT'S GANG INITIATION TIME, so there's been a spike in violence in the hood as the Crips and whatever Dominican gang happens to currently rule my street fight it out for territory and members. A guy from my building was killed last week and there's been a shrine to him outside the stoop ever since. The drug deals are still going down around the clock, though, so no one seems to be deterred. No cause for alarm!

By and large the violence ignores non-gang members, and if it does touch the uninitiated it's mostly muggings. Unfortunately, the muggings often specifically target white people, so I've been taking off my iPod before walking back from the subway station at night. This has severely constrained my happiness, of course, as I no longer get that last spin of whatever shamefully titillating pop song I currently have on repeat.

Just when I think I've had enough and that I really do need to move, along comes a reminder that crime, truly heinous crime, can strike anywhere. Even in the heart of Kent County. Surely it's some perversion of our national character that there hasn't been Runaway Bride-style, 24/7 news coverage of this tragedy.

I'll be starting a Facebook issue group about it, and I hope you'll all support the cause when I shoot off the invites.

Jesus Held Hostage in Kent County

"Clean up all the wiener poopie if you want to see Jesus unharmed."

[via The New Gay]

Give it to me.

GUESS WHO'S GONNA BE gainfully employed this summer?

After suffering the slings of excessive self-doubt, after countless recruiting cocktails and conversations with a dozen firms, after a slew of interviews where I whipped out my MECE at every conceivable instant, your boy's got an offer from a great firm.

Needless to say, I'm stoked. It's a firm I'd jocked all semester - smart, fun, genuine people, interesting, meaningful work, great brand name.

Early on in the process, a second-year at school told me that the whole recruiting process was like dating. You're out trying to make it happen with someone, putting out your best. That's recruiting events.

You find someone you're clicking with, but you're more into them than they are into you. You're just trying to keep them from getting tired of you, so you flash a little leg and telling all your really good stories. That's interviewing.

Then, at some point in the relationship, the power switches hands and you realize the person you're seeing is really into you. Supposedly, that's what it's like after the offer comes.

And then you realize that you're both into each other, and you make a ten thousand babies.

Let's just say I'm really looking forward to this stage in the relationship.

Amerie - "Gotta Work"

"Show me someone without a goal, show me someone with no control."

Remember the power of the American idea

I STILL HAVEN'T DECIDED who I'm supporting in the Democratic primary race, but fuck, man, have you seen this?

Even if Obama can't seize victory from the Clinton machine (a machine I personally believe is built around a capable, impressive, and good-hearted candidate), the message here is exceptionally powerful.

Yes We Can

"There has never been anything false about hope."

Discovering my little corner of the internet

AND NOW IT'S TIME for a little segment I like to call "Who are you and please get out of my house."

Top 6 Favorite Search Phrases That Inexplicably Led People Here

1. people that look like gooses
2. people with height dont look as fat
3. how to get a job at goldman
4. proctologist test
5. that's right jesus is lord
6. brian boitano

Amazing.