Update: Clubbing is a go

I am going clubbing on Friday. My friend Sean and I are going together, which will be awesome. Much frivolity will be had! :)

Even if I have to go alone, I'm going. I'm a rut these days, and a little gay thumpa-thumpa is what I need.

Update the next day: And it looks like our two female friends, Kitty and Softy will be going as well. Gays and girls - as God intended it.

Where nobody knows your name

I was in the car coming back from my sister's ice skating rink, when the radio had an uber-gay moment. They played back-to-back Womanizer, Lady Gaga (Just Dance), and Circus.

I realized, in that moment, while my sister sang along (she doesn't know the words) that I need to go clubbing. I need some hot, sweaty, random glee in my life, the likes of which I only find in dance clubs.

Really, if I could go anywhere, it would be this great "new" dance club in north DC called, "Town." Side note: I like how winner-clubs are one-word now. We're obviously too stupid to remember two-word titles.

It's one of the largest gay clubs in the city. On the one hand, it's not in the typical gay-ghetto, Dupont Circle, which features club "Apex" - a respectable club that's good for drag. On the other hand, it's so much happier, more energized, and... well, gay.

Plus, the men are at least 10 year younger there than anywhere else. It's a club made for circuit boys.



So yeah - if I don't get some clubbing in my system immediately, I'm going to lose my mind. Please deposit sweaty man-grind into my life, kthxbai.

Post-split II: Steps to recovery

Ladies, listen up - take it from the master:

When you do depression or have regular sad days (which are more frequent in the North now that the Sun is barely up at all), do it right. Take this - part two to theKnow-it-all guide to getting over him/her/it:

1. First, put down the spoon and step away from the Haagen-Dazs. Frozen yogurt, carrot sticks, pretzels (watch the salt)... all these are better for you. Now that you're alone, you'll probably want to be skinny. No one likes a fatty, and by now, there's a good chance that you are one.

2. Second, this is the perfect time for an eating disorder. Going to the gym is time consuming, and you need all the hours you can to sit home and cry. Cry a lot - it's good for you. Since you won't be going to the gym, and as even frozen yogurt can go straight to your hips, purge frequently.

P.s. Pro-tip: Use Febreze in the bathroom after to freshen.

3. Finally, for now, spend a lot of time by yourself. Some say use other people as healthy distractions from your pain, but if you're like me, you probably got yourself into trouble by being too friendly with people anyway.

Try wallowing in your misery for a while. This will not only give you lots of time to think about what you did (like a child's time-out!), but it will probably make you sad enough to really do step two well enough. Pair sadness with purging - match made in heaven.


That's all for now - try my proven method of getting over men. It worked for me - I shed even more weight after I lost my guy than before I did. You can even see my ribs - fun!

Good luck, ladies/gentleman/undecided, and happy binge-purging!

Happy Festivus from all of us

... and by us, I mean me. On this, the holiday of honesty (except when receiving bad gifts), I probably shouldn't tell such lies.

I hope you are finished wrapping your presents and preparing your no-carb, sugar-substitute cookies for Santa Clause. Remember - tomorrow (technically today if you're east of me) is a sacred day of consumerism and greed. It's the most important of our American traditions.

Respect it - and Merry Christmas, kids.



P.s. I got an email about this actually being a religious holiday about birthdays or something like that. Who knew?

The end of an era

(( I'm posting this because I think the name is gay-appropriate ))

Today, W. Mark Felt died - he was "Deep Throat" in the famous Watergate scandal. And as I'm sure at least half of my readers either don't know who I'm talking about, or think "Watergate" is a deviant sexual act...

... your homework is to look it up and learn what you can. Dismissed, kids.

A tree grows in my vestibule

Literally, there is a tree in my vestibule. Of course, it's been stripped, bleached, dyed, and bound into these otherwise useless phone books, but hot damn, it's still a tree!

I hear the internet is losing steam and people are flocking back to "the good 'ole" methods of communication. Letter writing and newspapers are in - blogs (oh no!) and emails are out.

Just as the 80s have unfortunately returned in popular fashions and music, so too have these remnants of a bygone era come back to haunt us. I'm thinking about exchanging my energy-saving car for a gas-guzzling American car and moving out to a suburb - God's land!


To be honest, though, were I not a sarcastic bitch, I probably would have picked up one of those phone books just to say I owned one.

Too soon? Uh uh!

Anna Nicole Smith - I miss her... she was so batsh*t crazy in her day. Many thanks to the swarthy gentlemen (heh) who reminded me of this.

Newcomer gays, give respect where it is due. This woman defined an era (the late nineties) as a woman who defined the odds, thus paving the way for millions of girls to sell their bodies for money and grow up to be whores. She is the American dream - she saw something she wanted (which definitely wasn't her late husband), and she got it.

Her struggle in court for her husband's money was spectacular. All should note that she was wronged by not receiving the Emmy that year for Best Performance in a Trial when her greedy in laws tried to take back her hard earned money.

She made it okay to be insane, to lose weight on the revolutionary Trimspa/crack diet, and to make money by whatever means necessary. Every slut with her ankles in the air owes this pioneer a debt of gratitude.

Honey, here and now, I salute her for outstanding contributions to moral society in this country. God speed, kiddo.

Mmm... toasty

It's mid-December. It's 63 degrees. This is just not right. Now if only it would stop raining...

So, what's your fantasy?

Yesterday in the barber shop, while I was being silent and mysterious, the guys sitting next to me were discussing this thing called, "fantasy football." Of course, I initially thought they meant those pay-per-view alternative Superbowl games where cheerleaders play touch football in chocolate pudding, or something like that.

I looked it up our of curiosity, and this is what I found on Wikipedia:

Fantasy football is a fantasy sports game in which participants (called "owners") are arranged into a league. The person who creates the league is called the commissioner, and that person invites other owners into his/her league.

Each team drafts or acquires via auction a team of real-life American football players and then scores points based on those players' statistical on-the-field performances.

A typical fantasy league will employ players from a single football league, such as the NFL or an NCAA division. Leagues can be arranged in which the winner is the team with the most total points at the end of the season, or in a head-to-head format (which mirrors the actual NFL) in which each team plays against a single opponent each week.

At the end of the year, win-loss records determine league rankings or qualification into a playoff bracket. Most leagues set aside the last weeks of the regular season for their own playoffs.

So as far as I can gather, it's like socially acceptable Dungeons and Dragons. For those gays in the audience that aren't familiar with either game, don't worry. You don't have to be.

I can't picture a group of muscular straight men huddling around a table and playing a sports version of Magic: The Gathering (another game you don't need to know about if you don't already).

Why do I bring this up on Homo Knows today? I do it to ensure that none of you succumb to this. New gay, old gay - even straight; it doesn't matter. You should never play these types of retarded games. You want to have a fun Saturday night? Try a dance club, a bar, the opera, a museum, a coffee shop or...

... dare I say it? A date.




Edit: To our readers from other countries (not the United States), I want to clarify: when we say "football," we don't mean soccer. Think gorillas in spandex running into each other... a lot.

I can has silent haircut?

There are those that really like getting the chatty, outgoing barber, but I am not among them. When I am sitting there getting my hair cut, I want to just sit there and chill out without having to be conversational and interesting for a half-hour.

It's especially annoying because I know that the conversation is superficial, unappealing, and habitual. It's not worth the energy to put forward a substance-less discussion. Service-industries have a new slogan: "The customer is always right conversational:

Barber: How do you feel about __________? It's good, right?
Me: Eh, I don't really care for it all that much.
Barber: Yeah, me neither.
Me: I especially don't like __________.
Barber: I totally agree; it sucks.


So yes - to all barbers of the world: I don't want to discuss sports with you, class schedules, or my family life. You are unlikely to remember my name, let alone my major and my personal problems.

Silence is golden, kthxbai.

Save the last dance for me

Today, Tuft's University held their ballroom competition... which went fantastically. In the end, we ended up walking away with ribbons, a smile on our faces, and sore muscles... everywhere.

The thing I notice about dance is that no one seems to take is seriously. We call competitive ballroom dancing, "dancesport," but the first comment one usually gets is, "Ballroom isn't really a sport."

... really? Really? How do you define sport? A physically draining activity that challenges your ability to perform a task or a skill that you have learned and practiced ad nauseam in order to score points? You have coaches and team that you rely on for support to win? You gain a sense of accomplishment when you win, but strive to improve when you lose?


Interestingly enough, in ballroom we physically exert ourselves to the point of falling down, doing skills and moves we've practiced for months or years, to win points and place against other couples. We have large teams of dancers all working and practicing together. In short, it's the same thing. Ballroom=sport.

I'll give you this: ballroom is less manly than football or basketball. Then again, how manly can those activities be? I see more ass-slaps and homoeroticism during a game/match than in a trashy teen-fanfic story. Perhaps they are more mainstream, or even more heterosexual. But that doesn't make them better at all.

Side note: Contrary to popular belief, there are many straight ballroom dancers. Are there a plethora of homos? Yes... but not an overwhelming majority.


Ballroom is also a fantastic way to lose weight. I apparently burn anywhere from 250-500 calories an hour. How can you beat that? I get to lose weight like crazy doing something I love to do, which is actually a lot of fun? Win-win, really.



To anyone who thinks this isn't a difficult sport: Do a few laps of quickstep at 50+ BPM and tell me that's not genuine fatigue. If you make it halfway around the floor, then color me impressed.


Interesting article on this: http://www2.ljworld.com/news/2007/dec/25/ballroom_dancing_gaining_favor_next_potential_olym/

Enjoy. Deep down, we all just want to feel a little glamorous sometime.

All eyes on me, kids

To those of you who are not listening to Britney Spears' new album, Circus, here is a purported official video for the title song. Oddly, her publicist has stated that this is not the official video. See for yourself.



I will say this - there are some places where it looks like some guy shot some unofficial video on his camera phone whereas other parts are very official and clear. So that might be a little bit of a mash-up (?) on the part of some crewman.

And even if not, this is probably not the full, official cut. But STILL, the official one better be awesome. This one is so good, the real thing might in fact be worse (let's hope not).

That would just be... heh, so funny.


Update - midnight-ish: Here is the video from her website.



I'll leave it to you to find the differences. I think it looks pretty good, still... thank God.

If you dance it, they will come

... or not.

I just went to teach a lesson on the waltz today to high school students, and their club was so excited that two whole people came to my lesson. Fun! *fail*

It's okay, though - one day, I hope to look like the dancers on TV. But not like Dancing with the Stars... God, I hate that show. It's bad "So You Think You Can Dance." Like watching a train wreck in slooow moooootioon. This is where it's at:

Blasphemy on Christmas!

I have been an avid-Christmas support for a long while. The only holiday that beats it is Black Friday. I know all the carols and sing them often. So you can see why I was surprised to find a non-secular verse in a Santa-based song:

He doesn't care if you're a rich or poor boy,
He loves you just the same.
Santa knows that we're god's children,
That makes everything right.
Fill your hears with christmas cheer,
'cause santa claus comes tonight.

It's the weirdest mix of the secular and religious that I've ever seen. I'm kind of disconcerted by those lines being there, especially because I didn't notice that they were there for this long. It's like subliminal messaging!

God damn it, Christmas is about consumerism and toys. The holiday should have nothing to do with religion, after all! Leave God out of it for Christ's sake!

Spell-check, people

I've been meaning to put this up for a while. These icons of academic excellence have been popping up all over campus. It's a plague of stupidity, and there is no known cure.

Symptoms: The inability to spell, think, or reason, lazy eye, day-dreaming, foolishness, and outbreaks of hives.

Treatments: Common prescriptions have proven quite ineffective. Subjects can ease their symptoms by infrequently picking up books, spell-checking, etc. Side effects may include unintended infusions of intelligence.

See your doctor immediately if you think you're showing signs of stupidity as it can/should be fatal.

"Black Friday" is not PC

One thing I can't stand these days - how everything suddenly exploded with Christmas. I'm not such a huge fan of religion these days (at least not organized), but even I think Christmas is offensive at times. It's getting to the point where stores are just obnoxious.

The only benefit this holiday has for me is that my mother and I observe Black Friday. For those of you that don't know (why don't you?), Black Friday is probably your biggest shopping day of the year. Or it should be. On this day - the Friday after Thanksgiving - stores have huge sales. Doorbusters (meaning sales that start at 3AM or so), clearance sales (50%+ markdown), etc. Shopping is awesome on this day - you should observe it too.

Every year, my mother and I snub other holidays. Halloween is lame, we prefer Korean food on Thanksgiving, and no one really observes the 4th of July or Valentines Day in our house. But on holiday we do well is Black Friday. We like to (cutely?) refer to it as a day-long date.

We usually start off at 12AM at the local outlet mall which opens at midnight, shop there until 9AM, hit the department stores and malls until 2 or 3PM, and do big warehouse stores like Target, Walmart, Kohls, etc. until we get tired (6 or 7PM). It's an intense day of shopping, and we love it. Anywhere from 15-20 hours of work.

It's the only reason I'm going home for the Thanksgiving and not staying in Boston. I love to shop, and my mother and I really bond over the half-off bin at Victoria's Secret.

... and still, every year, she remarks at least once during Black Friday that she has no idea how I became a homosexual. I usually just say "Dunno, mom!"

--------------

And for your viewing pleasure - one of few countries to out-Scrooge us with commercialism... hits a snag this year:

Country faces Santa shortage
By Josie Cox Josie Cox – Mon Nov 24, 12:28 pm ET - Yahoo! News

BERLIN (Reuters) – Wanted: Cheerful, chubby men, preferably with fluffy white beards and no criminal record, ready to work hard for one month.

Germany is running out of qualified Santa Clauses and needs to recruit and train them fast, a leading job agency says.

Germans are trying to shut out the financial crisis by taking comfort in traditional festivities, and there is an acute shortage of Santas to entertain children at shopping centers, Christmas markets and private parties.

"Being Santa is not an easy job," Jens Wittenberger, in charge of Santa Claus recruitment at the Jobcafe Munich, told Reuters Monday. "To be honest, not many people have what it takes to be a good Father Christmas."

Have your cake and eat it, too

Obese have right to 2 airline seats
Thu Nov 20, 2:31 pm ET, Yahoo! News

OTTAWA (Reuters) – Obese people have the right to two seats for the price of one on flights within Canada, the Supreme Court of Canada ruled on Thursday.

The high court declined to hear an appeal by Canadian airlines of a decision by the Canadian Transportation Agency that people who are "functionally disabled by obesity" deserve to have two seats for one fare.

So we are now rewarding people for letting themselves go? That'd be like putting free Playstations in prisons because prisoners have the right to a good time.

Simple supply and demand - if two seats are available, and there is the possibility of making twice as much money from two people as they would from one gigantic person... the airline should be able to serve its own interest and make more money.

Plus, they would save the extra fuel cost they now must suffer to service an obese person and the forty-seven Twinkies they have stashed in their carry-on bag.

Banilla-nilla

Awesome -- I'm not kidding - this "Banilla" yogurt by Stonyfield Farm is awesome. Especially with granola. This is a huge amount of awesome in my mouth. Best thing to be in there in a while (giggity).

Go buy it now. Don't question it - just do it.

(( You can tell that I have nothing better going on in my life when I am forced to write about yogurt. Not only that... but I'm making sexual jokes... about yogurt. Ugh! ))

Thank God facebook isn't real

There is definitely shit on some people's facebook that I wouldn't like to see some to life. For example - the people with four thousand applications on their profiles? Don't want to see that.

-------------

On another note, I have a "work" session at 5:30 tonight. In reality, it's an excuse for people to consume "beverages" and get work done for our organization in one place. This will either be one giant laugh session or it will be a boring serious time of work only. I'm not sure which... but knowing us, I'm thinking it will be general ridiculousness. Especially under the influence.

Ballroom practice now - so much to do before the Tuft's competition... and none of us are ready. *fail*

Coming out with a bang

Had I initially thought to incorporate music into my version of this scene, perhaps things would have gone a lot more... terribly, I guess.

But it would've made a good story, yes?

Oh my God, Hell no!

So I got up today, went to class, etc. Nothing interesting there.

When I came home, however, I had the strangest urge to listen to Jesus-music. I'm talking about semi-rock, semi-pop Christian singing, etc. I don't know what provoked it, but I just wanted to hear something comforting.

In the previous days when I was a Christian (even one of those evangelical types), I used to listen to this stuff all the time to feel better. Obviously now, I may not see eye-to-eye with most of what the Church teaches, but I still enjoy the songs. The beats are clean, the words are inspirational, and the ideas are still pure.

So while I don't think Michael W. Smith or Casting Crowns intended for me to use their Jesus-mix to get myself out of a homosexual-funk/mood I've found myself in... by God, they sure as Hell will now!

I also put the music back on my iPod - I think that's some sort of a sign or something. I can tell you, though, that the last place anyone should expect to find me is in a church.

A comment on perfectionism

As this is a math lab assignment, I shall present the following.

Point efficiency_Student = ^{points assignment is worth}/_{time to complete}

So by simple analysis of my current situation versus the likely work habits of the other students in MA226 (Differential Equations), we get the following:

Point efficiency_Them = ^{twenty points}/_{two hours} = ten points per hour
Point efficiency_Me = ^{twenty points}/_{ten hours} = two points per hour

Conclusion: I am spending too much time on this lab.
Sub-conclusion: This is a direct attempt to throw myself into my work.

A rock and an unsure place

This emo post is brought to you, in part, by Viewers like You. Thank you.

So I find myself in an interesting situation. On the one hand, I've been trying to go on dates again and try to make the best of a bad situation following my break-up with the Ex. On the other hand, there are some individuals (namely the Ex) who don't agree with that method. While I would tell any other queen who criticized me to fuck off, I can't because the Ex is actually someone whose opinion I respect. Plus, he's probably right.

My problem now is trying to communicate to the Ex that I am still waiting for him to make his move. What he can't understand is just how unsatisfying these dates with other men have been. After a spectacular relationship (up until its rough ending), I'm looking for a connection as profound as the one we had. If I'm lucky, I'll eventually find half such a "spark."

Despite how hard these other guys try and all the encouragement from my friends (especially A, who is all-in-favor of it), whenever I'm on dates with other people, I grow increasingly aware of how unlike the Ex they really are. And as such, they are immediately inferior.


So here's the rub - everyone is telling me that I should go out and date again to try to get over him (which I apparently am not), while I know myself that I should wait for him in the off-chance that we can patch this up.

It's a fight between the rational and the romantic. Despite how much I fucked up and how much I'm sure it's killing him... I am still holding out for the small, small chance that he'll forgive and come back to me.

*sigh*




Update: I canceled my date with Emerson-boy. And I'm going to let B go now. I just... can't give them all the attention that a normal date would deserve.

Eureka! I've got it!

Breaking News: The New York Times is reporting that Gay rights activists used the internet to organize their rallies this past weekend against Proposition 8.

Well... yeah. So?

If this blog and the many like it have taught you anything... know that we, as a community, do know how to use email and check blogs. I'm almost offended at how the article was written - as if we homos got up one day and the internet suddenly made complete sense to us.

*facepalm*

Disorderly eating?

I think I have a problem with eating (don't read as "eating disorder"). To be clear from the beginning, I absolutely love food. Love it, love it, love it. Food and me get along well together.

During the week, however, I just... don't eat. It's not that I don't want to. I just forget. On a day like today, between getting up right before class, being in class, and doing homework later, it's no wonder that I could easily get up tomorrow and remember that I haven't eaten since Sunday.

*ick* My body must be so confused. I keep alternating between binge-eating my emotions and starving myself accidentally for days.

Can't be healthy - I think I'm going to go eat a cracker or two. Perhaps a little water.

A comment on reputation

Another wise blogger, Sean, who I won't directly link for his privacy has been writing lately about reputation and notoriety, especially on a college campus. I can respect his opinion most because I think he's one of the few people on campus with as bad a reputation as mine.

I think we do have a very subtle difference between the two of us - his is mostly undeserved (mostly, at least), while mine is pretty much very accurate. The things I hear about me from word of mouth suck and make me feel pretty low... but you know what? They are 100% true.

It seems that in my first year or so at school, I have made a very not-so-good name for myself. The token gay, the well-known slut, and the pretentious douche. While I hate these titles (or any version of them), I can't rebel against them so much because they are mostly accurate.

---------

So I'm going to jump the gun on New Year's this time with a resolution: Fix yourself up.

My name isn't worth much these days because of what I've done in the past, but we're going to turn that around. My in the past month have been so reckless and cavalier that I don't even recognize myself anymore.

Turning over a new leaf starts... now.

Connect in Connecticut

Gay Marriages Begin in Connecticut -- LISA W. FODERARO
November 12, 2008, NYTimes

Marriages began today in Connecticut, and good for them! It's interesting to see the difference in events this week. CT gets more rights... and CA doesn't.

Side note: I'm thinking about going to a protest at Boston City Hall this Saturday at 1:30 to protest Proposition 8. Part of me says that it's good to show solidarity and political activism - plus, there are nearly 4,000 people that are already going (on facebook, meaning 5 will actually show up).

On the other hand, does voicing an opinion in the only state to offer same-sex marriage help at all 3,000 miles away? Not sure...

... if I can find someone to go with (meaning not by myself), I will definitely go. At least for a while.

Because the 70's were ideal

Intermediate Gay -- Now that you've been out in the world for a while, it's time to learn about a little gay history. You know about Prop 8/Hate, etc... now how about something from the past?


If you thought that things have been swimmingly good since Stonewall, you would be wrong, silly. So if you are in a city/state that is liberal enough to even be showing this movie in your local theaters (so if you live on either coast), then you shouldn't miss it.

Learn it - gay culture is nothing without her history.



Coming December 5.

Dear God

To whom it may concern,

Your followers, seriously, need to back the fuck off. They are starting to piss the rest of us off.

Signed,
The rest of us

P.s. Tell them that people are more willing to listen to their fanciful stories of ridiculousness if they didn't belligerently offend us to our faces, criticize every facet of our being, and then expect us to pay them close attention.

P.p.s. Remind them to stop showing us all our faithful they are. If they're going to be religious, there is a fine line between being proud and being boastful.

Hail the Queen

Her Majesty, Hope Lincoln, rises again! And look at that fucking dress. (Side note for next time: bring a coat for the walk home).

New Roach-hell

I'm sitting in my linear algebra class in the basement of the math-science building(s) on campus. Bored and sleepy, I'm staring around for something to look at. And guess what delectable little morsel I find?

Yes... a huge cockroach. The photo doesn't do this thing justice - you would think things like this would be fucking extinct. It was like the Godfather of roaches. Biggest little fucker I've ever seen.

I don't know how I feel about spending so much time in an environment that even cockroaches can't survive.

*shivers*

The Wizard of the Wtf?

I met another child today that had never seen The Wizard of Oz.

Really, people? Really? That makes him the third gay I know that has never seen that movie. Between Judy Garland and the oddly homosexual tin-man, I'm surprised at you people.

I think it says something about our generation when we know more lines/songs from Wicked (which I have seen) than this 1939 classic. Get it straight, kids: sometimes gay-culture > pop culture.

Go out, right now, and rent/buy/worship this movie.

Seriously... why the fuck are you still reading this post. Get off your asses and go to the video store. *face-to-desk*





Random bit of trivia: For those good-gays that have seen it already and don't need to go buy a copy of the movie, did you know that the horses in Emerald City palace were painted with Jell-O powder? They had to shoot the scenes quickly before the color got licked off.

Other bits of trivia: "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" was almost cut from the movie, even though it's an unofficial gay national anthem today. And the dog, Toto, was paid nearly twice as much as the munchkin actors.

More here: Read and be enriched.

Prop. 8

While the boozing continues in celebration of President Obama's victory continues, California isn't looking so good.



Morning Update: As of 10:30AM, 95% of the districts have reported in. 52% to 48%. The fight has been lost - gay marriage is once again banned in California.

On this time, it's in the Constitution, and we're fucked. *sigh*

"Elections"

I love hearing Asian people go by discussing the "election"... but with their accents.

Tonight, I'm watching what?

I'm keeping my eye on the polls all night, but I'm only watching three things:

1. what happens in Virginia,
2. the New Hampshire Senator race, and
3. which gay marriage bans pass.

Shaheen and Sununu have been cat-fighting in NH since the summer. I don't think I've seen a single non-negative advertisment from either.

I also think Missouri is going to be the Florida/Ohio of 2008. Just a feeling I have. As far as the election, though, Obama doesn't stand a chance at losing short of a divine miracle from on high.

(( Side note: Apparently Ar's friends are going to be at the election party I'm going to tonight, which will be awkward by default. ... shit. ))

(( Pre-results predictions: Arizona will ban gay marriage while California and Florida won't. Jeanne Shaheen will beat John Sununu, and Virginia will go blue by a slim margin. ))

I like to live on the edge

Tonight, I am in my apartment, eating cookies/chocolate, and watching Sex and the City. I think I've hit a new low, yes?

Fail

I think I legitimately just failed my first college exam. As in, less than 60%.

And I know the rest of the class did fantastically on it - there were kids leaving twenty minutes before the end of session. And there I was, fucked for time because I took too long on the first two questions and had to rush the last three.

*fuck*


Given how my life is going these days, I should petition the Humane Society to just take me out back and shoot me. It's better that way, and sometimes an old dog's gotta be put down.

Me first, please.

You, sir, are brilliant

Walking home, I saw a guy in shorts. It's 35 degrees outside and windy.

I feel no pity.

Now it's a gay blog

There. Enjoy your smut.

I've realized that when someone read's "Gay Blog" there seems to be an unshakable connect drawn between the author and gay porn. For whatever reason, when I try and find some good gay blogs, I usually just find porn.

Even when I find something written by someone who has a vague understanding of grammar, it's still like reading bitchy days of our teenage lives - full of erotica and unnecessary drama.


Thanks, but no thanks. I keep my drama and my "erotica" where it belongs - in the bedroom, in the park, on a desk, in a sling, etc. I was raised a lady... I keep my smut off the web, thank you.

So enjoy this (hopefully) only vulgar image. If you want gay drama or sex, just good "gay blog." It's really all you find online these days.

Drag Update #2

I bought these shoes the other day with two hags. If anything, I needed a big day out with the girls, so as said before, we went to CambridgeSide Galleria to shop.

After drinking everything in the house (and I mean this literally) for a day or two, then supplementing it with eating all the candy and greasy food in the fridge/pantry, I've decided to shop my feelings, instead of eating them.

All this has done, however, is left me drunk, fat, and poor...



... with fabulous shoes on top, however. Never worn a four-inch heel, so much practice is needed so I don't fall off the stage at the Drag Ball in a few weeks.

A new dance group on campus

In case our university having several thousand hip hop dance groups/troupes wasn't enough, there is apparently another.

Sarah and I went looking for a place to practice ballroom, and we a few people already using the space. This motley crew of strange Asians had the good sense to name their organization, the "Asian Hip Hop Dance Team" so as not to confuse people, I guess.

So in that spirit, I am changing my name to "He who does the ballroom a lot."

Ballroom success

So after many hours of nerves and long dances around the floor at Harvard, we return with our first first-place win in Waltz/Quickstep.

It's an interesting victory because a year ago at the exact same competition, I danced the same dances and sucked so badly that I almost quit and never ballroom'd again. Much irony to be had, yes?

(( Side note: That's the last time I say, "ballroom'd." A professor called me out on making up words, and I feel bad about it. That also means, "MUN'd," and (dare I say it?) "facebook'd" are no longer acceptable. ))

(( *gratuitous grammar point of the day* ))



Ballroom = win, yes?

Holy shit, I'm drunk

And it won't matter to you people because no one reads this fucking blog.

Drag Update #1

Today, I finished mixing a version of Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" for the Drag Ball that will be hosted on campus in November. I don't have much time to prepare a performance for the show, and when Halloween rolls around, I won't have ANY time.

I have the dress and the wig ready, and I have the song. All I need is some moves and to decide what make-up to do, and I'm done.

Photos of the hot little 80's dress/thing will be up when I get around to posting them :)

To anyone feeling sad

I have a present for you:



An actual, not doctored photo from the BBC. Enjoy.

Irony, a definition

The most counter-intuitive part of my day... I am writing here on this blog because I don't want to be writing a paper.

Granted, this is a lot more fun as I can say whatever I want to people... but still. Why am I not writing that damn paper?



As a side note, I've decided that the second I finish all this shit for class and have a little free time, I have to get back into Photoshop. I've been using it for Ballroom to make the Montage! poster, and I miss it so. I found this today, which is now my background (get it on InterfaceLift):

When blogs go too far...

I can't believe a blog like this (Garfield minus Garfield). It's either the most brilliant thing ever... or the silliest. Your call. From the site description:

Garfield Minus Garfield is a site dedicated to removing Garfield from the Garfield comic strips in order to reveal the existential angst of a certain young Mr. Jon Arbuckle. It is a journey deep into the mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness and depression in a quiet American suburb.

I suppose that even if it is the tooliest, strangest thing on the internet... the site description alone was enough to make me lawl.

Arena, you hath been slain

The Ballroom Dance team and I cleaned this monolith of an arena tonight... and it was actually fun.

Nothing beats belting out show tunes, rap, and Disney songs for three hours while picking up people's shit. As a side note, I have gained a greater respect for people that clean up for other people every day. And I will definitely be cleaner at theaters, etc. for the rest of my life.

*sigh* Now bed. It is waaaaay too late.




(( I have so much homework - *asdfl;kjasdf;* ))

This trend, I understand it not

... what? Since when did water bottles become so uncool that it's better to carry entire jugs of water around with you everywhere?

This isn't even jocks on the street - I saw a man last weekend in the Copley Square Starbuck's drinking an expensive latte and taking swigs from a Deer Park gallon of water.

I swear, humanity is fighting civility with every fiber of its being.

Fail

I just saw a group of girls teaching a freshman boy how to smoke his first cigarette.

*facepalm* Wake me up when humanity actually has a fighting chance, kthnxbai.

Confessions of a lost runner

So those of you who have been following along, I've started going the gym. And it hurts. But at least I have a new toy to keep my mind on other things while I make myself hurt all over (bet you'll never guess what it is).

One of the things I've noticed about my gym excursions is that I'm into the same kinds of things exclusively. Once upon a time, I used to be a runner - cross country, in fact. So where do I end up? On the treadmill. But I never go on the track; in fact, I hate it. I never did track in school, nor do I intend to now.

The treadmill is the closest thing I can find to cross country. Like my days of romping thorough the woods and mud, the treadmill is a long-distance style of running. You can change the speed at will, but mostly you run as a constant pace for a long period of time. The television in front of you ensures that you are always entertained by new images. The machine I use even cheers for me and tells me how much I have left until I'm done - kind of like an electronic fan/spectator in the crowd near the finish line.




It's bad for me, I know - it'll hurt my joints, etc. And it's probably not a good workout to gain muscle mass and core strength for ice skating. But (secretly) I have dreams of grandeur... like running a/the marathon one day.

My Monday/Wednesday/Fridays, however, will have to do until I decide that 30 minutes at the gym has equipped me for a 26 mile run. That's fortunately very, very far off.

My life is complete

NBC announced that they are developing a new spin-off of Will & Grace featuring Jack and Karen - probably the most amazing and welcome news since gays started getting hitched in California. It's as if they took an already God-adjacent show and made it holier. Let the boob and butt jokes begin. Again!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go change my pants.

BarMUN - still roaring

BarMUN is still butting it's ugly head... and it's awesome.

For the third or fourth night in a row, there are like 10 people in my apartment. The only difference is that there are at least 40 boxes of supplies and stuff that are, literally, taller than I am.

I think my neighbors, who saw us moving everything in, assume we're a student drug cartel or international smugglers.

That would at least be many more times awesome than we actually are.

On my way to class

Come on, people. A fedora? *tsk tsk*

Shirking professors

So two of my professors today allowed us to leave within ten minutes of class. Granted, in one we got a midterm back and he was only going to take some questions on it anyway, and in the other, we have a midterm coming up. So neither class could have introduced anything new anyway...

... still, it was weird. I stayed for both until the end with a few other people, but it felt weird. The same feeling, in fact, that I get when I skip class, except this time it was the other way around.

You know what would have been better? An email saying that class was canceled and that we didn't have to come at all. But apparently that would have been too easy.





Quick edit: So Homo1 (my Linear Algebra professor) came by my desk to answer a question today. It was the first time he's addressed me directly from such a close range. I am happy to report that he gives off the same faggy vibe up close as he does from far away.

Confusion for a second because he had a ring on his left hand, so... married? But it wasn't a traditional gold band - it was a platinum thing that I think I saw in Out magazine once up on a time. Kind of like this:

The thing I do when I'm not writing is...

... is everything else.

There's a lot of writing that needs to be done between now and Thursday at 12:30. And I want to do a good job as that's what I've done thus far.

So, of course, I'm watching Sex and the City instead. *facepalm* I obviously have other things to be doing right about now.

Easy < Classes < Hard

I am at the point now where I'm not sure whether my classes are annoying or not, which is weird as pretty much everything bothers me. Today, I had a good time playing with my numbers in the same way that children push their food around their plates. Other days, however, I wonder what happens between age 18 and age 40. Somewhere in that time, mathematicians get boring and bothersome.

Quite the epidemic.


My professor for Linear Algebra wore his awkward shirt and awkward jeans again - a too-large emo band-shirt and ripped-up denim. He owns these and often wears them at the same time. Really, dude? Really? That looks wasn't even cool in the 80s.

On the bright side, I guess it's like a band aid because now I don't have to see either for the rest of the week. On the other hand, he wears these flamboyant Liberace shirts and über-gay jeans every other day, so it's all the same.

I swear, sometimes it's hard to look at the board without getting distracted. Seriously, if I think it's faggy... it's pretty bad.

Job?

Let's hope so! Seems like one of the school deans is looking for a graphic designer to do work for their office. The guy hiring was shown my work and said he would love to hire me, but didn't want to approach me because he thought I would be too busy and refuse.

First, I don't know how I feel about this whole diva-vibe I give off to people I don't yet know. To friends, sure... I'm a betch. But to strangers?... weird.

Second, that's an amazing job. I get to make money by staying in my apartment and working with Photoshop? I get to do this for cash? I couldn't say no to that, even if I am busier this semester than ever before.

Here's to hoping I still get the job! *knock on wood*

BarMUN roars

My apartment currently has at least ten kids all getting ready for our collegiate Model United Nations conference. They are busy making last minute preparations, printing necessary things, etc. I don't think any of them will be sleeping tonight.

It's kind of cool, this exciting and frantic atmosphere. It's not stressful (though that's probably as it's not my job); it's exhilarating.

Who'd have thought that kids could get so fired up about something as inconsequential as Model UN.

God, I love MUN.

*nerd hat*

Priscilla, Dancing Queen of the Dessert

A friend told me to watch Priscilla, Queen of the Damned the other day. I want to start looking around for it; I'm not sure how common it is.

I'm not optimistic - yesterday, the Boy and I went looking for To Wong Foo, which is a godly drag queen movie. It's a shame I couldn't find it... we looked all over Boston (read as: "in at least two stores").

If I find it and watch it, I'm sure I'll end up writing about it. If I don't, however, send me hate mail to remind me. I am a forgetful boy.

Bad blogger!

Bad blogger - noun - a person who starts a website, finds all this nice stuff for it (domains, images, etc.), and then neglects it like an unwanted child.

See: Me



Apologies on that. I've been trying to figure out just what I want to use this site for, and I think I have changed my original plan to a simple account of my life. It's going to be hard to balance documentation of my exploits with the escapades themselves, but G-d damn, I'm going to try!

Note: If I die sometime again soon, it's probably because I stepped in a puddle in Allston tonight after I got back from dinner with Ryan. I'm 99% sure I got hepatitis from it... which is great because we spend all this time and money protecting ourselves everywhere else. Who knew there were puddles of it just waiting to be stepped in?

Liquid-AIDS - fun!



So yes, if I disappear, it's because I'm dead. Otherwise, I will be around again to entertain you with thoughts of a nerdy math majors life.

1776 ways... not to spend your evening

NO! -- At one point in your life, you will have the opportunity to see the film, 1776, a movie musical about the writing of the Declaration of Independence. Pass it by.

It's Schoolhouse Rock's version... without the cartoons, fun, or information. The film/musical is actually quite enjoyable, but it is simply too long and too distracted.

My suggestion... try 1776, the BOOK, which is much better. In fact, it's awesome. Avoid the film like the plague.

Blue-burry Cobbl'a!

Newcomer gay -- Guy, seriously... this is the easiest thing to make ever. It's only a matter of time before you can buy this stuff in a box ready-to-go.

Put the ingredients as stated in bowls and mix. Put blueberries in pan. Put biscuit batter over it in chunks (do not spread). Bake for a half-hour.

Enjoy: Sample recipe here!



Note: This recipe calls for cornstarch and baking the blueberries for a little first. The cornstarch is a great idea as, without it, your cobbler will be more blueberry soup. As a rule, corn starch will harden the filling. Do NOT use too much as then you'll get a chalky, crappy interior like a blue brick.

The pre-baking of the berries before adding the batter might de-flavor the blueberries, but it makes them delightfully crisp. Use at your discretion. I would probably reduce that from 25 minutes to 10 at max. Flavor first, kids!

Audrey's got a funny face

Beginner gay -- Funny Face is a very excellent and fairly well-known Audrey film that... everyone forgets about.

It's not as fresh as Roman Holiday, not as quirky as Breakfast at Tiffany's, or as zany as My Fair Lady, but it is simply amazing. The colors, the songs, the dancing - it's wonderful. Audrey plays opposite of Fred Astaire, and they are great.

If you don't like musicals, dancing, colors, and fabulous fashions... then you are probably not gay. Otherwise, add this to your Netflix or shopping list immediately, kids. It's a wonderful movie for the beginner-gay.

COMING BACK SOON!

Homo Knows' purpose and content are being re-evaluated. This blog will be up very shortly (within a day or so) with a new mission.

Enjoy, kids, when it comes!