Obama Can't Golf

Well, since Obama had nothing to do with the Blago Debacle of '08, the media have moved on to their next attack. Unfortunately they don't have much to work with, as BO has done more as President-Elect in the past month than our current schmucko-in-chief has done in 2 years.

So, instead, they've decided to attack him on his golfing ability. God, I wish I made that up... that would make me hilarious if I did.

Barack Obama might have abs that are the envy of men half his age and the ability to command a crowd of 100,000 with his speeches.

But when it comes to the decidedly presidential sport of golf, well, to put it diplomatically — he’s only a little smoother on the links than he is in a bowling alley.

(sigh).

J+1 Interview: Watch it, and get MattInc NAKED

Last week I profiled an up and coming Web Celeb. I called him the Anti-Davey-Wavey. He's a super cutie from Maine named MattInc. (See the profile here).

Anyway, I wrote to Matt and pitched him an interview. He was more than happy to oblige. Below is the video from our interview.


One important note you should be aware of: if all of you

• VIEW the video,
• LEAVE a comment, and
• SUBSCRIBE to Matt's YouTube channel...

he'll do a Davey-Wavey and make his next video shirtless. That's right, the power is in your hands. Help me get MattInc naked, and watch the video!

Oh SNAPshots!

Deco building with whacked color scheme at southeast corner 4th and B.


The Real Doll was on display in the window of a LES store. The associate told us the store had to become an official dealer to carry this anatomically correct mannequin. The carper did, in fact, match the curtains. She's a natural blonde.


Look at this wash from the Levi's store, but please don't touch.

Dress for Success -- A Note on NYE Style

When asked what I'm wearing on New Year's Eve, I had one simple rule in reply:

Whatever you wear, make sure you'll be comfortable walking home in it in the morning.

Happy Hunting.

[Pictures from my romp coming later...]

Should all the parties be forgot

New Years Eve is coming. And if you're trying to stop it, or slow it down, you are failing at your task.

What's left to do is figure out what you will be doing. Patrick over at ABlogAboutThings posted on the 5 types of New Year's parties. I am happy to say that I am not attending the first 4. The club where you dropped hundreds for a terrible time with terrible people. Or the house party you land in by default. Or the random empty restaurant where you don't have to sell your children into slavery in order to attend.

No, I will be at a house party on Long Island. A costumed New Years Eve bash. Jack and I had planned to go as JFK and Marilyn Monroe, but I think I may be too lazy, and he too tired, to pull this off. We'll probably cobble something together.

But I am a huge fan of the intimate house party. New Years Eve, I would say, is the night where every loser and his bigger loser friends hit the town because, GODDAMMIT! they are NOT LOSERS! They are cool, man! They can party like it's 1999! (Someone tell Prince he needs to put out a new track to inform them it is no longer anywhere near 1999).

And I don't want to be out with the desperate on this desperate night. Those poor saps clinging, nay grasping for dear life onto some semblance of a social life. Those drunk morons in Times Square who saw it on TV one time and fell for the tricks of expensive cameras, thinking the celebration is just as glamorous, and doesn't involve people throwing up on their new, expensive shoes.

Rather, I choose to stay in on nights like this. I go out when the losers return to their loser lives. When the people who know how to party and have a good time also return from their voluntary hermit-ization to resume their exciting lifestyles. These are the people who (usually) can hold their liquor. They are out to have fun, not out to prove to themselves that they can have fun.

I digress. New Year's Eve is a time to be with friends or family. To drink and be merry. My mom always told me that how you ring in the New Years is how your year will go. It makes sense, as I separated from my then-boyfriend for the evening (and you can see the result, as I referred to him as a then-boyfriend).

This year I will be partying it up WITH my new boyfriend. And the best friends I've had since high school. And my cousin who is the best friend I've ever had. I will call and wish a happy-happy to my Mom and stepfather, who are partying it up in Florida like the well-to-do snowbirds that they are. And my brother, who will be partying with his supermodel blonde bombshell girlfriend in DC. And my aunt and uncle, who will be doing god knows what. And my grandfather, who will be drinking Diet Sprite and watching the complete Rambo collection on DVD that I bought him for Christmas.

Friends. Family. None of the artifice or desperation. And I will be bringing my FLIP Mino HD camcorder, so I can create a short viral memory documentary so we can all remember the glory long after it is dimmed.

I hope the rest of you have an absolutely fabulous New Year's Eve as well. Each of us deserves it.

Pop-Up Idiot

Much like the XTube video recently shown to me, which involved a man popping a pool ball out of his anus, there are certain things that will perpetually elude my comprehension. Enter: The Pop Culture Expert.

Watch just about any show on VH-1 or Logo and you'll inevitably catch a lower-third touting the funny-to-himself talking head as a pop culture "expert." How does one apply, and better yet, attain this position?


I originally planned to post a job listing for a Pop Culture Expert to Craigslist to evaluate what burn-outs might actually apply, but I'm not a sadist nor do I enjoy proliferating false hope in this outhouse economy.

The fact is, most of these people are experts in nothing.

Their styles are forces, their jokes aren't funny and they're overwhelmingly one-hit-wonders rejected from Celebrity Rehab or fat black women that producers are convinced can make anyone laugh simply by opening their mouths. Reality check: If you want a funny black lady get Wanda Sykes or Jamie Foxx in drag, not some poor man's Vaudevillian knock off. It's kind of like making some watch Friends with Chinese dubbing and expecting them to laugh, or making some watch Friends and expecting them to laugh.

Furthermore, if these people have their fingers on the pulse America, they're feeling it through the armpit. Exactly, it doesn't make sense.

Sorry Kennedy, you're over. You were done a long, long time ago and even your brief stint on the Game Show Network (they get ALL the talent) couldn't revive your career. No whammy, no whammy, no whammy...stop! Please, just stop.


-

NAB-A-DATE: The Interview

Earlier this week I "sat down with" (ie: composed an email full of questions) to Lee Cavellier and Cedric Jones, two off-off Broadway producers.

We talked of many things (fools and kings?) no, but about their upcoming musical, Nab-A-Date, which is taking the stage on Valentine's Day of 2009. As well as their theatrical roots, former projects, and future ideas.

Yesterday I posted videos of their original musical, Guy Pride. You can see those here.

The interview, in full, appears below!

Okay, so let's start easy: You're producing a show set to premiere on February 14th called "NAB-A-DATE: The World's 1st, Best (and only) Musical Dating Show!" That's a lot of words, and a strange idea. Can you explain the show to me and the J+1 readers?

Absolutely! The title, though wordy, is pretty on the nose. We took the idea of the dating shows from the past and decided to utilize that convention, adding in musical numbers to help our ladies impress our bachelor and to keep a quick pace for the action.

As we played around, we found that not only was it a fun idea, but we could actually create a lot of wonderful characters, moments and turns...we could use the construct of a dating game to help drive the stories of all of these people along. It turns out that everyone on the show has enough behind them to make an audience not only enjoy watching them, but also care about what happens to them.

As for the basics, the evening will be taking place at 8pm at The Reprise Room at Dillon's on Valentine's Day (2/14/09), and will include a raffle to take place immediately following the show.

Tickets for the premiere are available through SmartTix

For more info on the show, including cast, crew and the NEW demo recording of the opening number, visit the NAB-A-DATE web site.

I know that a lot of folks (gays, straights, ostriches) hate valentines day because they're alone, or wish they would be left alone. Why should an unhappy non-Valentine come to NAB-A-DATE?

We love ostriches...Though I was unaware that they harbored any kind of hostility toward the 'day of love'. As for the rest, I remind everyone that tv dating shows have been around for a long time, and we've all had our guilty pleasures.

You don't need to be in a relationship to enjoy fun personalities making lots of sexual innuendo. Now toss in a ton of humor, lots of drinks, constant theater and pop culture references and some great voices singing tight harmonies...who could ask for anything more?

The show is not about being 'lucky in love'. Each of our girls has come there for a different reason, and we are lucky enough to view the journey that they each take.

Okay, and if you can't drag the non-valentine out of his cave, how can they see the show after they come out?

Well, that one's easy... We (Guy Pride Productions) are very excited to have been invited back to our summer stomping grounds, The Duplex, where will be doing the show for a full run every Thursday this coming March at 9:30pm.

I will spread the word though, as incentive to catch that V-Day opener, that folks arriving in March with a ticket stub from the February performance will be receiving 2 for 1 cover! So if you come out for the 14th and can't stop raving, give a friend your ticket stub and let them see for themselves, at buy one get one free!

NAB-A-DATE wasn't your first production. What was your previous theatrical project? And did it have a cool catch, too?

As a team, Cedric Jones and myself created an equally wordy titled show called "Guy Pride: The World's 1st MAN-sical!" I absolutely feel that because almost every story has been told so many times, the best thing you can do to keep it fresh is find an interesting perspective to tell it from.

Guy Pride started as a spoof of all those shows/cabarets out there where people were so proud to be gay/latin/female/a donkey...etc. We wanted to find a different angle.

Interestingly enough, what started out as a mock up of those kinds of shows, became more of a send up of ourselves. Our own quirks, flaws, and insecurities were showcased and exaggerated to create a very fun show of it's own genre, poking more fun of itself than of anyone or anything else. As the transition occurred, I believe we went from potentially offensive, to promisingly funny...and I'm pretty sure our audiences agreed.

And what learnings did you take away from this original show that you brought over to NAB-A-DATE?

We're men...it's hard to learn when you already know it all! Though my collaborator Cedric states that those of the 'pink persuasion' are consistently attempting to increase their knowledge, so I'll throw in what I understand to be his thoughts...

- We learned a lot about production, promotion, and budgets...
- We learned that friends can work together...and can create some pretty great stuff.
- We learned that above all, people want/need to laugh right now...

AND...

- We learned that The Duplex is a great spot to hold a show, or throw a party...or just hang.

You've produced a great number of shows already – what inspired you to take up this line of work? How did you get started?

Because of an early run-in with Donny Osmond (I fell in love with the show "Joseph" when I saw him in Toronto), I studied musical theater in college. As far as production, I remember taking a Cabaret course in my senior year. We had to write, produce, book the location, promote... everything related to getting the show up and filling the seats. It was incredibly difficult, but also very satisfying, and there's a great thrill to seeing people enjoy what you've put together.

And so, when Ceddy and I started to kick ideas around for Guy Pride, I felt I had a decent understanding of what to do. Though, to be honest, there's always a lot to learn.

Judging from how quickly you moved from your last show to this current one, there MUST be some other brilliant ideas bouncing around in your head… what's coming next?

There ARE some pretty brilliant ideas bouncing up there. We've got a couple shows on the back burner that I'm not yet at liberty to discuss...but I am able to mention that we are planning to reprise Guy Pride this coming summer around Gay Pride (keep checking www.theMAN-sical.com for dates!).

And following up in the fall with a brand spankin' NEW piece entitled "Addicts Anonymous: A Musical Twelve Step Program!" AA is a celebration of all those little things that "make you rave, then make you crave and ultimately misbehave, because you've just GOTTA have 'em!"

What part can I play in your next project? Or can we maybe write JustinPlusOne.com into the script? I don't have a resume, but I can make a convincing one up.

Are you addicted to anything? :-) I can certainly find a place to mention JustinPlusOne.com, resume or no!

Oh Nein -- Tip 2: CunniLingo or My Friend the Dicktionary

If Christian Siriano didn't drive the word "fierce" into an already dug grave, then I'm calling for 4 more years of Bush/Cheney. If you're still christening everything "fabulous," step into 2009 where Queer Eye for the Straight Guy was canceled years ago and Kimora Lee Simmons is now a divorced fat, gold-digging, no talent hoochie (nee a married fat, gold-digging no talent hoochie).

Chelsea Handler (my baby mama/destined to be best friend -- Seriously, Chelsea, you give me a hernia from laughter) pronounced the death of the "Cougar" (aka Old Slut: 1 part KY/1 glass Merlot) earlier this year after its 3 year run in pop-culture lingo (sorry to anyone in Nebraska that's just now discovering this word, but it's over. So are beauty pageants. And track suits. And Born Again Christianity... even Sarah Palin couldn't revitalize "the base").

In kind, it's well past time for gay men to take their hands off the lexicon lepers (i.e. "Fierce" and "Fabulous") and use their statistically better educated, higher earning, better spoken minds to develop and disseminate fresh buzzwords. Honestly, you've left your semen on the stalls at Therapy and your dignity in the water bowl outside Rawhide, so mark your territory and spit the new good word to your fellow faggots.

Oh, and if possible, let's avoid douchey anachronisms favored by hipster kids like "rad." Seriously? Go dust off your Cure boxed set and cry yourselves to sleep. It's therapeutic AND saves on eyeliner remover.

In ancient times, victors in war sought to strengthen their hold on conquered lands by taking away the people's native language. A loss of obvious cultural identity hastens assimilation into the new, dominant mode. With the blow of Prop 8, it's important for our community to maintain its voice. One way to move forward is breaking down syntax stereotypes while maintaining the cleverness and bite that sets us apart from the moral majority. Complacency, like illiteracy, is neither fierce nor fabulous; just fucking stupid.

Introducing The Brooklyn Literacy Initiative

Try playing reverse mad libs with these snapshots from my afternoon in Bushwick.

I feel like...

...tonight.

...your sex life.

Fuck You, Death Cab

The world of music rights is getting on my nerves. A video I published today, of clips from my neighborhood, was taken off of YouTube because it featured a backup track of "I Will Possess Your Heart" by Death Cab For Cutie.

A copyright owner has claimed it owns some or all of the audio content in your video 86th at 9. The audio content identified in your video is I Will Possess Your Heart by Death Cab for Cutie. We regret to inform you that your video has been blocked from playback due to a music rights issue.

Really? Was that at all necessary? Who am I? I'm a blogger and videographer. I loved your song so much that I wanted to use it in my own original work.

Was I trying to sell the song? Was I screening this movie somewhere for profit? NO!

So, fuck you Death Cab for Cutie. You're so edgy with your long hair and 14-minute long songs. You're so cool and so anti-establishment.

Oh wait, you have a ton of stupid ass lawyers who are patrolling YouTube and pulling down harmless videos.

Whatever, guess who has music ON YouTube for its members to use? The genius himself, Trent Fucking Reznor, and his amazing band, Nine Inch Nails. That's right, he has sanctioned the use of his music, and put it on a new YouTube service called "Audio Swap" where users like me, who have unceremoniously lost privileges to their work, can quickly swap out the audio for something else.

So when 86 at 9 is back on YouTube, it will be backed up by Nine Inch Nails, and Death Cab can KISS MY ASS.

Trent is a savior. Death Cab is full of shit.

(end rant)

GUY PRIDE: The Videos

Tomorrow I will be posting my recent interview with Lee Cavellier and Cedric Jones, the men behind the upcoming NAB-A-DATE: The World's 1st, Best (and only) Musical Dating Show. Set to premiere on Valentine's Day at The Reprise Room at Dillon's.

To get you jazzed and ready for it, I am posting a few videos from their last popular theatrical event which played at The Duplex: GUY PRIDE: The World’s 1st MAN-sical

Stay tuned to Justin Plus One tomorrow to hear from the geniuses behind the show, and to get a special deal on tickets!

Guy Love



Big Ass Rock



What a Day

Big Effing Boner, Thanks Logo

Perhaps it's as premature as the load I shot upon seeing the trailer, but I'm calling the biggest TV Craze of 2009: Rupaul's Drag Race.

While it may lack the obvious breadth of Tyra's forehead or limit of Heidi Klum's English vocabulary, I know this show will possess the delicate nuances of tummy fat corseted into boobs and genital tape downs that you can't see on other reality shows.

Finally, Logo has finally hit their rhinestone mine. Let's hope for no nude photo shoots.

Step into my hood

Yesterday, after much hunting, I successfully tracked down the FLIP Mino HD camcorder.

Smaller than a tiny cell phone, this camcorder weighs an ounce if it weighs anything, and is capable of shooting HD video that exports magnificently to YouTube and other video sharing sites. Needless to say, you can expect a lot more video work from me in the near future!

Below is my first test of the FLIP Mino HD edited in iMovie. I titled it 86th at 9... because I filmed it up and down 86th street at 9PM. Oh, and the soundtrack is courtesy of Death Cab For Cutie... thanks, guys.

PS: Be sure to click through and view the video in Hi-Def, otherwise you won't get the full effect.

xoJR

Oh Nein -- Trends to Avoid in the New Year: Tip 1

If you didn't jump onto the bandwagon of bottled water, bunkers and stuffing your savings into a mattress with your favorite copy of the Holy Bible in 1999, the manufacturers of y2k have the latest garbage marketing scheme for the New Year (expect e-mails from your Aunt Claire in Minnesota and Shelly in Accounts Payable): 2008 will have an extra second.

My recommendation for this extra second: Use it to party. Take a shot of your favorite dark liquor to reward yourself for participating in the hyper social-conscious that marked 2008 and help you ring in the New Year with a stellar performance on Guys Gone Wild.

Welcome to my series, "Oh Nein: 6 Trends of 2008 to Avoid in New Year."



Today, Keep in Gay in 2009. In the wake of Obamamania and Anne Hathaway bangs
(currently seen on Ms. Hathaway's talentless co-star Kate Hudson in their upcoming estrogen laden, Down's Syndrome inducing flick, Bride Wars), take a break from the tree planting and protesting Prop 8 and do something stupid.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull I-Banker, and we see how well 2008 panned out for them.

Use 2009 to expand your comfort zone and not in a Natasha Bedingfield way (the Dim Brit equates laughing out loud on the subway with being "a non-conformist"). Get a little uneasy, and challenge your own status quo instead of the rocking the social foundation, which thankfully has a more solid forecast post-Innauguration.

Re-Meet Patrick!

Many thanks to Austin, who helped me hold down the fort last week during Christmas hell. His and my feelings were correct: blog visitors didn't decline during the holiday week, they sky-rocketed! Many welcomes to all of you who are new to Justin Plus One. I hope you stick around, and send some of your friends over to check us out.

This week's Blogger has been here before. Deja Vu, I know. His name is Patrick and he is an absolutely fantastic, witty, intelligent, no-holds-barred motherfucker. He has the charm and manners of a southern gentleman, but he'll rip your kidney out through your asshole if you hurt someone he cares about.

We also used to blog here together during a former incarnation. We had pseudonyms and tore the world apart. That might happen again this week, if you're lucky.

What more could you ask for?

I'll let him do the rest!


My Name:
Patrick

My Location:
New York

My Site/ Sites:
Poor Man’s Food
Socialite Commentary

Why I came back to Justin Plus One:
To redeem the dream.

What I might blog about this time:
2009, Recessionistas, Style, NYC, Chelsea Handler is my Baby Mama

What’s happened to me since the last time I blogged:
I enjoyed a spectacular holiday party season and practiced the fine art of changing the subject and keeping one hand open at a cocktail party to greet new friends. I'm dating someone I've known for 3 years and couldn't stand for 2 of them (the same is true), and he's wonderful -- perhaps it's the trick? I developed a renewed love for cooking for others and perfected my Mac'n'Cheese recipe. I had a physical and discovered I'm the same weight I was my junior year of high school (and have been since).

The Last Word:
You may have it, but I'm still right!

I Love....

Guitar Hero: World Tour

Why? Because I can play guitar naked.

Just thought I would share.





Justin, wanna start a band?

Signs of the Apocalypse 7: Food Even I Wouldn't Eat

I found this disturbing display at one of my fifteen neighborhood Starbucks stores. That limp, soggy pile you see before you is the coffee company's egg sandwich lineup (well, egg sandwich pile).

Now really, Siren... do you expect anyone who hasn't already eaten one of these to be enticed by this poor showing?

The sandwich on the top left looks like it's sticking a phlegmy tongue out at me.

I won't even comment on what the green and oozing orifice of the piadini at the top right looks like.

And, what, you couldn't find a better place for your feta wrap, so you shoved it in a ceramic ramekin in the back to the right?

And ALL of the fake egg fillings seem to be crawling, desperately, trying to escape from their fake breaded prisons. Or, if you prefer a different simile they all look like the smiles of toothless, demented senior citizens who forgot to fully swallow their Early Bird specials.

All in all, I've seen piles of cadavers near mass graves that looked more appetizing than this. Mmmmm cadavers (drools).

Technological Meltdown

Thank God I have a week off, because I have much to do. Besides spending all of the money and gift cards I got from loved ones, I must get a few of my malfunctioning gadgets deal with.


Public Enemy Number 1: My iPod.

Oh iPod 60 gig. We started off badly. I dropped a few hundred bucks on you, only to find out the next week that your 80 gig brother had been released... at the same price I paid for you. That's fine. I got over it.

The problem
Your headphone jack is fucked. I thought it was my headphones, until I bought a new pair and found the same issue. I can only hear your dulcet tones in one ear. And this is not fun. The right ear pipes in now and again and throws off my equilibrium. I stand to be hit by a taxi if I continue to suffer this injustice.

Of course, I found a homemade solution, which is pushing down hard on the top of my headphone cord and somehow summoning the right ear to do its work. But this is about as accurate of a prescription as fucking around with the bunny ears on a television set, or blowing into an old Nintendo cartridge.

Whose fault?
Okay, apparently this is mine. I didn't discover, until yesterday when my brother told me, that you are NOT supposed to wrap your headphone cord around the iPod when you put it in your pocket. Or if you do, you're supposed to disconnect the headphone plug. Who the fuck knew this? I didn't!

What I must do
I need to go to the nearby Best Buy (after digging up my pricey 3-year warranty). Then I must be nice until they offer up confrontation. Then I must curse and wave my warranty about in the air. Then they will honor the warranty.

My Dream Outcome
The customer service angel will say "just exchange the iPod for a new one, so we don't need to mail this back to Apple." They then let me trade up my 60 gig for the 160 gig (I will gladly pay the extra cash). The customer service person then gives me a bag of money and a timeshare in Paris.


Public Enemy Number 2: My Verizon enV phone

Oh enV, your name is so appropriate... because ever since I bought you, I've envied every iPhone 3G owner. They have the graphic web! They have instant messaging that's actually instant! They don't have to see the same stupid advertisement for Katy Perry's I Kissed A Girl on their news homepage (is anyone even BUYING that song any more?) Plus, your camera is too touch sensitive, and always gives me a blurry photo.

The problem
Beyond your general suckiness, you've now begun to suck in overtime. Your P button is stuck. I never noticed how much I used "P" until this occurred. There are a lot of odd messages you can send when you forget a "P" or two. Your "OK" button has also begun to stick. This is so not OK. I need to send text messages. I need to press OK.

And then, you've recently begun to turn yourself off when I close you. I didn't ask you to do that. No one wants you to do that. You need to stop doing that.

Whose fault?
I am very careful with my enV. This is Verizon's fault, and they must pay dearly.

What I must do
If I recall correctly, I am paying monthly amounts for Verizon insurance. I never used it when my last phone went to Shitsville, but this time I must. I will stop at the Verizon store en route to Best Buy and ask for a new phone. If they don't give me one, there will be blood.

My Dream Outcome
The kind Verizon folks will offer to give me a new one, and then let me either trade up to an enV 2 or, even more preferred, a Blackberry Storm (yes, even though apparently the Storm is a stinker next to the iPhone). Again, I will gladly pay the extra. This is about getting the latest and greatest, versus the grittiest and shittiest.


And so there you have it. I rarely return or exchange anything, so this should certainly be an adventure. More on it as it unfolds.

xoJR

Post-Christmas Recap

So I made it home safely without a hitch. Now I am sitting in my Upper East Side apartment and thinking that they should have a name for the day after Christmas. I mean, we have Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and... what? I think I'll call it... Post-Christmas Enjoy Your Family and Presents Day. I think it'll catch on.

So on this Post-Christmas Enjoy Your Family and Presents Day, I am taking stock of my gifts from Santa and otherwise this year. Among the socks and scarves and cash, my biggest gifts this year were a Playstation 3, along with Guitar Hero World Tour, Mirror's Edge, and Metal Gear Solid 4 (I'm such a dork) and a nice digital camera. I also go the first two seasons of Dexter on DVD. Let's see.... Pjs, button ups, a tie, a few pullovers and sweaters. It was a good Christmas Day.

So today I'm dedicated to making Post-Christmas Enjoy Your Family and Presents Day even better! And first order of business? Come up with a new name for Post-Christmas Enjoy Your Family and Presents Day. It's not quite as catchy as I thought after typing it four times.

I'll get on that...

Merry Christmas, from baby Justin

Okay, so my last post was totes depressing. I apologize for it. I just needed to share my anger and sadness with the rest of you. It's a horrible thing to see that story when you've just eaten your weight in cookies!

Any way, consider this my apology for the last post. I'll one-up the sadness with perhaps the cutest thing you'll see today - me! As a one year old! Yes, I've been digging through the old and out-of-shape photo books in my bedroom here at home on Long Island.

I came across this photo and promptly spread it around the vicinity. And you know what? It may be almost 26 years later, but not much has changed. I still smile all the time. I'm still cute and cuddly. And I still have a huge as all fuck head.

So Merry Christmas - from baby Justin, and grown up still-baby Justin.

xoJR

You think your Christmas was bad?

Sure maybe you're uncle is a drunk. Maybe your cousins smell like wet socks and toothpaste. Perhaps your significant other's mom couldn't cook a ravioli or shrimp if someone else did it for her...

But at least a man in a santa suit didn't show up, kill five of your family members, and set yourself on fire.

In a bizarre Christmas Eve rampage in a Los Angeles suburb, a 45-year-old man in a Santa Claus outfit opened fire at a group of revelers in a house that moments later went up in flames, killing at least five people and injuring several others, the authorities said on Thursday.

Why oh why would New York Times pick this as their head story on the web site? Didn't a dog in a santa hat save a pair of puppies? Didn't some dying old man give his wealth to a homeless person?

This is why people don't read the news. Because the reporters have to report the sad shit, and make it front and center.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Since I am about to go over to the only part of the family I haven't seen yet and then promptly head to the airport, I may not get to post again until much later this evening. So, in order to sate your appetite, enjoy this video. I estimate you only have to watch in on a continuous loop 162 times till I can post something new. Enjoy!



SNL Christmas Song

Harold Pinter is Dead

In case you haven't read the article yet.

Harold Pinter, the British playwright whose gifts for finding the ominous in the everyday and the noise within silence made him the most influential and imitated dramatist of his generation, died on Wednesday. He was 78 and lived in London. The cause was cancer, his wife, Lady Antonia Fraser, said on Thursday.

Mr. Pinter learned he had cancer of the esophagus in 2002. In 2005, when he received the Nobel Prize in Literature, he was unable to attend the awards ceremony at the Swedish Academy in Stockholm but delivered an acceptance speech from a wheelchair in a recorded video.

The Christmas Airport Debacle of 2008: Part 3

And now the final installment of Austin and the Airport, already in progres...

...the fates had other plans in store. I boarded the plane, surprised when I was in the first Zone called for once. I hadn't really noticed that my ticket was 1A, until I came aboard and realized that I was flying first class. I had never flown first class before, so I was extremely amazed.

I took my seat in large leather cabin chair next to a gentlemen in full army gear, apparently headed home to Jackson for the holidays. And of course, he was sitting there reading his Bible, very meticulously so. "Oh god," I thought.

When the flight attendant came around for my first class, pre-flight drink, I asked how much a beer was. "Oh," she says, "All alcoholic refreshments are free in first class." I suddenly heard the Hallelujah chorus in my head as I order my first beer.

So I'm enjoying my beer when I very quickly realized that we have been sitting at the terminal for quite a while. At that moment, the captain comes on and explains that the plane needs some maintenance before we start to taxi. The maintenance crew is on their way and everything should be fine. Fantastic.

We wait, they arrive, they run diagnostics, everything is fine. Great, let's go. However, we don't move. At this point, Army Guy has put his Bible away and is starting to get impatient. The flight attendant comes on this time to instruct everyone to use the lavatory in back in of cabin due to an "situation" in the front bathroom. There is a cleanup crew on its way. I order my second beer.

So as I sit, I watch not one, not two, but three cleanup guys come into the aircraft carrying only paper towels and a garbage bag. All three look into the bathroom, flinch, look at their paper towels, and leave. It's going to require more than that, it seems. Keep in mind that the time between each cleanup guy is around 20-40 minutes. We sit and wait.

At this point, Army Guy starts talking to himself about the absurdity of waiting this long for a bathroom to be cleaned. The self-important middle-aged lady across the aisle hears his mutterings and starts agreeing with him, which serves only to embolden Private Grumpy to talk louder and get more people on his side. He starts saying things like, "Two hours on a runway? Ridiculous!" and "Give me a mop and some rubber gloves and I'll have it done in five minutes!" All of which makes the flight attendant seem really uneasy. I simply smile at her and say, "Is it possible to have one more beer while we wait?" She obliges.

So first class is getting restless and increasingly more vocal about their inconvenience. Right when I think it's about to be mutiny, the fourth and final cleanup man shows up with the right equipment and diffuses the situation. Finally, he leaves, the doors are sealed and we start to inch toward the runway.

We get to the runway and stop, which is normally usual, but the captain comes on again and says that due to our long tenure at the gate, we have to wait for new flight clearance. Well Sgt. Asshole starts to lose it, saying things like, "Oh, of course!" and laughing derisively. I am uncomfortable, and it's too late for another until we get to cruising altitude.

Fortunately, this time on the runway did not last long, and we were quickly on our way. We got up, I drank more, we landed. My family greeted me and didn't ask questions when I couldn't necessarily walk straight.

And that's my story. I took me three days to write it. Ironic, since I will be leaving again today to fly back to NYC. I hope I get home quicker next time, but still with the same amount of booze. If I don't... well I guess I'll have to save that story till next time I get asked on to JPO... if I do. :-)

My Haul, thus far

We've just woken up and the intimate family giving has yet to kick off. However, between Boyfriend Christmas with Jack on the 23rd, and extended family Christmas last night, I have already hauled in the following fantastic gifts:

• Raul Esparza in Company on Blu-Ray
• Sleeping Beauty on Blu-Ray
• August: Osage County in softcover
• The Beauty Queen of Lenane in softcover
• Three plays I've never heard of, also in softcover
• An etching of my favorite place in Central Park
• Wall-e on Blu-Ray
• Cloverfield on Blu-Ray
• 75 bucks
• "I Hope they Serve Beer in Hell" the softcover book
• 25 bucks Dunkin Donuts card
• Assorted shirts and sweaters from Gap and American Eagle, and a cute necklace
• Socks
  

And that's it so far... but this morning will be the motherload. But, as tradition states, I must first go out and buy bagels for the family. And coffee for myself. Then the unwrapping can begin.

Austin - I, too go to mass only to make my mother happy. However, this year I didn't as I actually had to WORK ON XMAS EVE. Yes, I got out at three, but it was far too late to make it to mass. In fact, my family cutely titled my train the "4:12 missing-mass express." They're so cute that way.

And this just in, not only is my Mom on Facebook... she's also now the proud owner of a Wii.

Yep. She's just adopting technology in leaps and bounds now.

Merry Christmas, all!

xoJR

Reverie

I'm sitting in my hometown Southern Baptist church in East Jesus Nowhere, MS for an "informal" Christmas Eve service. I'm wearing my skinny jeans, a tight white v-neck, and my Ed Hardy Chuck's. In addition, I am proudly sporting two new piercings (one in my lobe and another in my cartilage), and my meticulously arrange dyed blonde hair.

I am watching a parade of "singers" taking their turn at the mic singing their rendition of every Christmas song in the hymnal. My mom turns and smiles at me. At this point in my life, she knows I only come to these services to make her happy.

As usual, the nativity story turns in a sermon on repentance. I sigh and look at my watch. I begin to tune out when I see the preacher look at someone behind me and say, "And we have a sinner among us tonight, brothers and sisters." He suddenly leaves his pulpit and starts making his way down the aisle.

My amazement suddenly turns to dread as I realize that he is not heading toward someone behind me, but he is headed directly toward me. As he approaches with Bible in hand, he is proclaiming, "This boy has moved to the city, left the fold, and like the prodigal son, has indulged himself in debaucherous living. He keeps the company of alcoholics, sex fiends, deviants, and homosexuals! We must cast out the demon of unbelief and save this young man's soul, brothers and sisters!"

The preacher then places his hand on my forehead, messing up my perfect hair in the process. He raises his Bible into the air and begins to pray. My mother is horrified, my aunt is crying, and I can only sit there and squirm in my disbelief and obvious fear.

At this point, I wake up from my daydream just in time to hear the end of a very screechy version of O Holy Night. My mom smiles at me. I sigh and check my watch.

Marry Christmas, mom.

More on Sex

Oh Austin, I had done SUCH the good job of not talking too much about sex on this blog. But god dammit, you got me thinking about it, and so I now need to counterpost.

I'm sure that BrokeStraightBoys is nice. But personally, I'm a HUGE fan of GuysGoCrazy.com (warning, the page linked IS safe for work the page past that is totally and completely NOT safe).

And this is a problem I must deal with, I suppose. Having come from a live-in, 3-person relationship (don't ask. shit show. blood rain. still healing.) I think I am just BORED by watching adult cinema where only two people partake.

Conversely, on GGC, you are guaranteed at LEAST 20 people in the space. That's right. A gigantic orgy, every time. And man do I love that. More than words can say. At numbers like that, sex is no longer emotional or meaningful. It is truly carnal and physical.

It leads me to think that maybe I lived a previous life in Greece or Rome where orgies were the standard.

I shouldn't be bored by two guys (and steadily growing bored of just three) but that's the way it is. Forget the straight guy business. The guys on the screen can be straight, gay, bi, a-sexual, or pansexual. So long as there's more than a baker's dozen and they're trading up more than the MLB in the pre-season, I'm good to go!

I know I said I would talk about sex...

Can I just say that some of my favorite "adult material" on the Internet comes from BrokeStraightBoys.com? I first saw some of their clips on xTube, and before you knew it, it became the first porn site that I ever paid for (only a trial version, I assure you).

I don't know what it is about it. I'm sure most of these boys are really straight, but I still enjoy the illusion. In real sex life, I generally have a rule against hooking up with straight guys. I don't want to be their "one time experiment" or be the source of some religious and/or moral confusion and guilt. Even if they do come out, they would probably feel like they needed to be your boyfriend as their security blanket. That's just too much too handle.

So maybe I'm enjoying this site as a fantasy I won't allow myself to attain? Or, more likely, it's just cute young boys having hot sex and all the while pretending like they've never done this before. Either way, it's my porn pick of 2008.

Hope you enjoyed this break from the holiday season. ;-)

The Christmas Airport Debacle of 2008: Part 2

We now return you to the story of Austin and the Airport, already in progress...

...on my way to Atlanta thinking all is well. Little did I know, my connecting flight to Jackson, MS has already departed. In all fairness, I had been warned in Newark that this could happen due to delays, but despite everything, I was still optimistic. Lot of good that did, huh?

I leave the plane and see the Departing Flights screen. My plane left 5 minutes ago. I spoke to the rep. It's around 10:30pm right now. He said that the next flight was leaving 10:52pm... tomorrow evening. So I had to call my mother who had been waiting in Jackson patiently since early in the afternoon (but she did have time to get some last minute shopping done and see Four Christmases). "I guess I will be spending the next 24-hours in the Atlanta airport," I tell her.

At this point, I get a call from my lesbian aunt down in Tampa, FL. She says that her first serious girlfriend from 20 years ago still lives in Atlanta. She's already called her, and she is on her way to pick me up. Now Alison was dating my aunt from the time I was 1 till like 5 or 6. So I have vague yet fond memories of her.

I speak to the rep again one more time just for good measure. Good thing I did too, because there is another flight he can book me on at 1:30pm the next day. "I'm not really supposed...," he begins, "Eh, but whatever. It's Christmas." Befuddled by this, but not wanting to pursue it, I thank him and then leave to meet Alison outside.

Alison picks me up and take me to her beautiful home of 1 girlfriend and 3 dogs. "We just had a big party, so there's a ton of left over beer. Help yourself," she says. Finally, something good on this trip. She shows me my room and says that we'll do brunch before my flight tomorrow to catch up.

Next day, we go have mimosas and check out the boys and girls. We talk of my pre-grade school days and all the cute things I would do. We speak of my aunt, my family, and this crazy thing we call life. She takes me back to the airport and makes me promise to come visit sometime.

Back at the airport, I check and make sure my bag is in Jackson waiting for me. It is. I usually never check a bag, but I have hopes that Christmas Day will bring more than I can carry on when I leave. I thank this Delta rep and head to the gate, with time for a beer before my flight.

When it comes time to board, I grasp my golden ticket in my hand, thinking I'll finally be home in an hour. However, the fates had other plans in store...

You thought it would be over, didn't you? Nope, there's still a 3rd installment, readers. And I know that you can't wait. I know I can't.

xoxo

Jeremy Piven Gets Plowed

If you're a Broadway gay, you're surely attending the tale of Jeremy Piven (I don't have a Sondheim-esque rhyme to match with that, sorry).

If not, here's the story in a nutshell.

1. Jeremy Piven of Entourage fame was cast as the fast-talking lawyer in Broadway's revival of David Mamet's Speed the Plow.

2. The show is lavished with spectacular reviews, including particularly glowing praise for Jeremy Piven.

3. Jeremy Piven, without warning, suddenly pulled out, citing mercury poisoning (something mostly pregnant women worry about, from eating too many california rolls.

4. Whispers among the Broadway gossip elite had a different story: Mr. Piven had been fired. For not showing up on time to shows. For not going on stage if he wasn't happy with the size of the paying audience.

5. The show's producers quickly found and named Piven's replacements: Norbert Leo Butz and then William H. Macy.

6. Insiders reported that the cast of Speed the Plow (namely Raul Esparza) had begun insulting and reaming Piven to full house audiences.

"'(Esparza) said, I'm sure you've read the headlines about the silliness in our show.' Then he said, Today was the first time I really enjoyed playing this show.' I hope you weren't expecting a big TV star." It was pretty emotional."

7. And now, Piven is being chewed out by the rest of America, for pulling out of a show due to high mercury while others report for work with an arm missing, because they need the money.

Now THIS is what I'm talking about! When drama leaves the stage and becomes its own monster. Jeremy Piven, you had the hearts and souls of Broadway behind you. You stood a chance to be a Broadway superstar.

Now everyone thinks you're a dipshit and a total coward, while others consider you an uber-diva and liar.

Sad state of affairs. Maybe you should have never left Hollywood.

And as always during this holiday season....

We must remember those among us who celebrate a different holiday. Of course, I'm not talking about Kwanzaa or Ramadan, but instead, our Hebrew brethren. Christmas time is also a special time for them as well. Just let Mrs. Darlene Love tell it in this SNL skit. After all, no one says anything better than a big, black gospel singer.

Just to join the party...

Justin, fear not. We are one in a common struggle. My mother is also on Facebook... and she knows how to use it.

She finally told me that she was on Facebook, but only wanted to add her adult friends to her profile. This was fine by me, because well... I have a few pictures that should only be for peers eyes only, not mother material.

So the weeks went by and she would send my FB messages sometimes. No biggie. Until one day I notice (as you can see from the above picture) that we had 2 mutual friends. "Odd," I thought, "I'm not friends with any of her adult friends." I clicked on the link, and who were these 2 mutual friends? My brother and sister.

Now, I don't know what to think. Should I be upset or coerced into adding my own mother as my friend? I still feel the same way about some of my content, but I also feel left out. Damn sibling rivalry.

Anyways Justin, feel at ease. Sometimes you just need a friend.

Bathroom Violence

I stopped by the bathroom in my office building last night before running out to see Dividing the Estate with Jack - the beginning of our celebration of "Boyfriend Christmas."

What I found there was both horrifying and mystifying.


This was once a fine, upstanding urinal and sink metallic divider. Now it has been torn asunder and split in two, its filling falling out on the floor.

I can't even manufacture a probable event that caused this divider destruction. It's literally split from the center and bent in both directions. So that means a person couldn't have fallen into it, or punched it on one side.

Really, the only possibility is that someone stood, leg apart, facing the divider, grabbed it on both sides and pulled it apart, a la the Incredible Hulk.

And I couldn't tell you if that's hot... or scary.

Or maybe it was filled with Gremlin eggs, a brief brownout occurred and they hatched and freed themselves from the makeshift nest?

Or maybe it was a very poorly placed dirty bomb planted by some lazy terrorist.

The Christmas Airport Debacle of 2008

Okay, so I guess Justin is right about actually sharing the details of my 24-hour trip home to Mississippi. It was quite a story filled with setbacks and mythical creatures and such, after all. Now that I have some distance from the event, it's time to let the healing begin.

So my original flight plan was to leave New York on Northwest Airlines at 4:30pm on Monday. I get to Laguardia airport around 3:30 only to find that my flight has been canceled due to a bird hitting it on its trip in. They give me a number to call to reschedule. However, there are no flights leaving New York until Christmas Day. She asks if I want a flight that day. "Well can you see my return flight date? It's on Christmas Day. I'm supposed to be back then. So unless you're suggesting that I leave and return on the same day, I think you know the answer to that question." I don't like being bitchy to customer service reps, but I was beginning to freak out because I've never missed a Christmas at home.

So at this point, the phone calls start being made. My family is getting into a panic, my sister cries, and the dog was barking. A mess, right? So my boyfriend calls to see if he can help. He's at home, he has a computer, he is ready. In the middle of everyone calling, he gets through and tell me there is a flight leaving in 2 hours... from Newark. I hail a cab and tell him to wait for my dad to call with credit card info. I pass along his number to my dad (this was his first time to EVER speak with a boyfriend of mine, but that's another story). So hoping that the flight is still available, I'm cabbing along to Jersey.

Boyfriend calls back, flight is booked. The cabbie starts trying to talk with me, but I wasn't having it. "Just get me to Newark please. I can't miss this flight." Once again, he's just doing his job, but my friendliness was spent. Now all the family has been updated and I have an hour to breath (but still a little tense because I'm watching the meter go up). I finally get to the airport after giving the cab $130. You gotta do what you gotta do.

I get on the only slightly delayed flight without very much ado. I'm on my way to Atlanta thinking all is well. Little did I know....

Part 2 of the story to follow. I think this is long enough to process for a while. Sorry my flair for the dramatic makes me long winded. Also, I love to play to the Southern homo stereotype.

Until then....

The War on Christmas: Dress Up Time!

You're catholic. You're sick of the War on Christmas... all of those Walmart greeters wishing you a "Happy Holiday" instead of "Happy Jesus Christ's Birthday." You watch Sean Hannity and Bill O' Reilly's daily bloviations on the sudden support of secularization. You just can't take this SECULAR BULLSHIT ANY LONGER!

So what do you do? You defame your god by dressing up like him and going to work!


Yes, this will clearly tip the scales in the war on Christmas. Nothing like a bunch of people wearing thorns around their heads as they enjoy Jesus' favorite beverage: Ginger Snap Starbucks lattes.

I won't even take the time to point out the strange decision to invoke the Christmas Jesus by dressing like him on the day he was crucified. Maybe these folks should remember which Jesus costume suits which Christian holiday.

But that's just me, being logical.

Oh, you may also enjoy their oddly Mission Impossible-esque video explaining the rules of their costume party protest:



And this video of "Jesus Sightings"

For all you tree lovers....

This guy is one of my favorite YouTube stars. Although his "My Son Is Gay" video is the best, I thought I'd share this one in the spirit of the holidays.

I just flew in from NYC, and boy are my arms tired...

Sorry I'm a day late for the super-holiday week of Justin Plus One (is it okay to start calling in JPO now?)! I had a 24-hour ordeal with the airports as I tried to get home to Mississippi for the holidays. It involved canceled flights, delayed planes, a $130 cab ride from Lagaurdia to Newark, an overnight stay in Atlanta with a lesbian couple, an airplane bathroom "incident" that took 2 hours to clean up, and a first class alcoholic binge. But I'll spare you the details.

The important thing is that I'm here and Justin no longer has to fly solo. He's not very good at being alone (hence this blog). Sorry for my absence, Justin!!!

So enjoy this week of holiday hilarity everyone. And make sure you make lots of (positive) comments. I want Justin to ask me back. ;-)

Web Celeb: MattInc is coming

I stumbled upon this up and coming Web Celeb on Twitter. He goes by the name MattInc, and he seems to be antidote to those of you who find former Justin Plus One Web Celeb, Davey Wavey too sunshine-y and optimistic. Too vacant and cheery.


Where Davey Wavey is ethereal, esoteric, and always in a good mood, MattInc curses, smokes cigarettes, goes on the patch, and plays electric guitar. Davey has the light colored hair and refuses to wear a shirt. MattInc has dark hair, bewitching eyes, and refuses to wear anything pastel.


Oh, and where Davey has a forever-present bubble of laughter in his voice, MattInc employs a gravelly, dense tone. Yet, when you read MattInc's Twitter tweets, he still comes off as an all around nice guy! You know what the difference is? MattInc seems more real, more human. Whereas Davey Wavey seems like a bit of an infomercial (some of you have said.)

In the end, the only thing I think is missing is regularity. MattInc doesn't vlog enough, meanwhile Davey Wavey posts on a weekly basis. With weekly posts and random rants and musings, this guy has just as much of a shot at Web Celebrity as anyone.

Oh, and he has a live web show that he does on Wednesdays and Sundays (I'll have to check it out).

So let's go ahead and give MattInc his shot at Web Celebrity. (Oh, and I think he's looking for a boyfriend... any takers?)

Add MattInc on Twitter here
See MattInc live Wednesdays and Sundays on Stickam

Check out MattInc's vids from his YouTube channel:

Roomie Drama


I'm Bringing Pee-Wee Back



MattInc Needs a Haircut


MattInc sings his original tuner, "Your Eyes"

Signs of the Apocalypse 6: My Mom is On Facebook

I really don't know what to say. How do I feel? Betrayed? Like I walked onto a stage and forgot to wear pants? Like a dog wearing pants just walked by on its hind legs and tipped a porkpie hat in my direction?

I really don't know how to react. All I know is that my Mom is on Facebook, and she never told me. And apparently my brother knew, too. What is my Mom doing on Facebook? She hates computers!

It's moments like this that are so awkward - when technology is finally adopted by the growing baby boomers. I'll never forget when my Mom sent me her very first text message. Again, it felt strange (especially considering how she wrote "OMFG! Go Home Sweetie!" when I told her I was working late.)

And this also begs the question of, should I be Facebook-insulted? My mom never added me as a friend! Never bothered to mention she was sneaking on to the turf of my technological generation. She's leaving comments and messages on her friends' walls, but she never thought to post on my wall!?

There was a moment of comfort, however in a text exchange with my brother Jared:

ME: Mom's on facebook!?!?!?

JARED: Haha yip

ME: How long has she been on? How long have you known!?

JARED: Couple weeks. But she doesn't know how to check anything or sign in.

So there you have it. Mom still doesn't really know what she's doing, and all is right with the world. It's like how she sends full paragraphs in instant messages. She's so cute that way.

Ho-Ho-Holiday Round-up: YuleTube Style

Just one day shy of Christmas, and there are three people who want to wish you a very Merry Christmas: "Mariah Carey," Jason Mraz, and George W. Bush.

Two are hilarious while one is so ridiculously bad (not only is the Lame Duck a shitty leader, his acting skills even leave something to be desired). And don't get me started on the lackluster production job and ridiculous, almost drug-addled narrative.

Anyway.

So lean back with a glass of egg nog and your Christmas bush and enjoy these X-mas vids!

"Mariah Carey"



Jason Mraz



Barney and the Bushes

Craigslist: Take my car, PLEASE!

Good God do I love Craig's List. Seriously, nothing lightens a day more than a hilarious Missed Connection. Today's Craig's List gem comes by way of my best friend, Becky. The headline is: "1997 Black Infiniti J30 4D Automatic with Leather and Moonroof. - $2200 (Koreatown)" A deceptively straight-forward title, given the hilarity contained within:

There’s something wrong with the fan belt. Again performance doesn’t seem to be affected much, though, when driven under 70mph, it does make a metallic shrieking noise like the Ringwraiths from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. If you haven’t seen those films then I suppose it sounds a lot like a pig being stabbed. This is nothing to worry about if you live in a bad neighborhood and don’t need to impress anyone.

This is only one of the ultra-ridiculous "few minor mechanical and cosmetic issues." I'll leave you to discover the rest.

Read the post here.

The Problems with Gay Marriage

Finally! For the longest time I have stuttered and stumbled at the tongue as I tried to enunciate my issue with the LGBT community's up-in-arms-ness over the rights of gay marriage.

I have tried to state my case and come off rather poorly. I began to think, after some quiet time, that maybe I was what others were accusing: righteous, ignorant, careless, apathetic, anti-gay.

But then I read Bob Ostertag's wonderful op-ed on the Huffington Post.

In it he accomplishes (without trying I'm sure) what I've been laboring to do: explain why I think there are other, more important things than gay marriage.

"Gay marriage" turns the real issues of equal rights for sexual minorities upside down and paints us into a reactionary little corner of our own making. Yes, married people get special privileges denied to others. Denied not to just gays and lesbians, but to all others. Millions of straight people remain unmarried, and for a huge variety of reasons, from mothers whose support networks do not include their children's fathers, to hipsters who can't relate to religious institutions. We could be making common cause with them. We could be fighting for equal rights for everyone, not just gays and lesbians, but for all unmarried people. In the process we would leave religious institutions to define marriage however their members see fit.

That's how you win at politics, isn't it? You build principled coalitions that add up to a majority, and try not to hand potent mobilizing issues to your opposition in the process.

We have done the opposite. Instead of tearing down the walls of privilege enjoyed by the nuclear family, we are demanding our own place at the married couples' table (leaving all those other unmarried people out in the cold).

I know the idea of gay liberation is ancient by today's standards, but it wasn't so long ago that a lot of gay and lesbian activism began from the premise that the queer perspective was one that could offer a particular contribution to a more just society as a whole. My how times change.

Is this really where decades of struggle for sexual freedom ends? With the state granting its blessing to homosexual nuclear families emerging from City Hall, husband-and-husband or wife-and-wife, with the photographer and the rice and the whole bit, finally having become just like them?

Not for me. Not for my family, with its various men, each of whom I love in a different way, a child, and two moms. Not that my family is any sort of queer norm. But that's the beautiful thing about queer culture: there is no norm. We piece together our families, holding on to those relationships that work."

YES! EXACTLY!

Often those who disagree with me (viciously or peacefully) tell me "it's about equal rights". Well - why can't we band together with all the others without equal rights and create a truly unified front for equal treatment? Why must we draw a line in the sand and say "NO! This is a GAY ISSUE. WE NEED OUR RIGHTS."

Truthfully, everyone needs their rights. And they need to speak up and fight for them. It's not about being invited to the hetero marriage table so we can pick out groom and groom cakes and take Sears family portraits.

It's about decency and the rights to live how we see fit. Also, the article is worth reading because it has some interesting info on Mr. Warren that I've not heard elsewhere.

Someone should forward this piece around to all those raising their second uproar in regards to Rick Warren. I'd love to see how that discussion goes.

Hannukah-ha-ha-ha

Two of my favorite Jews (Jon Stewart and Lewis Black) talk about my second favorite Holiday (NOTHING beats the break-the-fast bagel binge of Yom Kippur!)

Yes Christmas may be coming, but we must not forget our Jewish brothers and sisters who have already started celebrating!

Laugh and love. And happy happy.


Jon Stewart (and Stephen Colbert!)

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Best Hanukkah Moments

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

Lewis Black

Comedy Central Presents

Lewis Black - Hanukkah vs. Christmas

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