"It Will Stimulate His Psyche and Stir Up His Libido"

Over at i09, I just read that, "cosmic rays are hitting Earth at a much higher rate than any time in the last 50 years."

Cosmic rays. Very "Fantastic Four."

So, if anybody knows where I can find Chris Evans, please let me know.

I want to be within spitting distance ("How vivid.") of Chris when the cosmic rays turn him into The Human Torch and his clothes are burned away, leaving Mr. Evans in all his naked glory.








Actually, I don't care what super power Chris is given.

Maybe the cosmic rays will just turn his pecs into whipped cream and transform his nipples into cherries.

Works for me.

Trust me, whatever Chris' body turns into, I'll be ready for it.

Just think of me as the Matter-Eater Lad of gay porn.

Which is, of course, an oxymoron

(People who don't follow comic books are SO lost right now...)

"I've Won FOUR Academy Awards!"

Here it is, folks. The latest edition of "Katie's Corner."

This time, it's "Katie's Corner: The Documentary."

Alexandra Billings is Katharine Hepburn. Raw and uncensored. Just like she that one night in Stephen Sondheim's basement.

I've seen the video of Kate in that dungeon. Luckily, there was an eye wash station nearby.

I don't want to talk about that video, but this "Katie's Corner," like all the others, is hilarious.

Check it out...

"The A Hole Seems Kinda Small..."

So, a small hole is a bad thing?!?

And here, I always thought a small a-hole was a GOOD thing to have.

That's why I let my hymen grow back.

Oh well...

Back to being a wide receiver.

Where did I put that traffic cone?...

"Claude Rains on the Tackle"

Yesterday, The New Boy and I were talking about how quickly new television shows get the axe these days. Two, maybe three episodes will be aired and if the numbers aren't the size of Kanye's ego, the plug will be pulled.

And anyone who agrees with that kind of decision making, even for financial reasons, should go back and watch the first three episodes of the first season of one of your favorite TV shows. You will realize that, like fine wine, good cheese and me in the morning, some things need to be left alone and given some time before they're judged.

As Billy Crystal's character, Buddy Young Jr., once said when describing his 3 episode long, insult comedy kid's show...

"It was a good television show. It was on the Claude Rains network. It disappeared before it came."

P.S. The elevator in the building where I work is (yes, I'm using this word) janky. Jank-o-rific. It's so janked up that, three and four times between "L" and "21," it stops on floors where no one gets on or off.

When this first started happening, I would try to make light of it by saying to the people in the elevator with me that Claude Rains must be getting on or off. But no one - - and I mean NO ONE!!! - - got it. At all.

After I dumbed down the reference and said that The Invisible Man was getting on and off, they would laugh. Okay, they would titter.

Every joke can't be a zinger, folks. Geez...

"You Know, She Painted My Mic White!"

This past Monday, Amy Matheny and I recorded another episode of The Windy City Queercast.

And, par for the course, we podcasted while eating. And drinking. This time at Halsted Bar & Grill.

We were joined by the uber-talented and ultra-fabulous David Cerda - - the Artistic Director of Hell in a Handbag Productions and member of my favorite band, The Joans.

And after chatting / interviewing Davy Joans, I almost got to enjoy showtunes at Sidetrack with Barbra Joan Streisand.

That's right. Barbra Streisand. At Sidetrack. This past Monday. Almost.

As you may or may not have seen last week, Barbra flew into town to tape "The Oprah Winfrey Show." And after the taping, La Streisand was going to come to Sidetrack. So that she could thank her fans.

That's actually the reason her people gave for Barbara's possible gay bar appearance. To thank her fans. And as cliched as it sounds, who else sat through "The Main Event" and bought "The Movie Album." That's right, the gays. Me included. And we gays love all the Barbaras. From bad perm to bad perm, and everything before, between and after.

Unfortunately, Streisand was flying into Chicago from Rome (this is total hearsay, but an unconfirmed rumor is good enough for me) and the flight was delayed. She landed at 6:30 p.m., the taping was supposed to begin at 7:00 p.m., and thirty minutes is barely enough time to get from the airport to Harpo Studios. Add to that the whole "Barbra Has to Sit on the Side of the Stage Oprah Usually Sits On" thing and the taping (I assume) started late, ended even later and kept La Streisand from her gays.

Oh well, I was still there when Bea Arthur hit Sidetrack. And truth be told, I'm more Bea than Barbra. Yeah, yeah... Shut up, Rose.

And while we're on the subject of going to a gay bar to thank your fans, I wonder if Oprah and Gayle are going to borrow Barbra's line. I can totally hear Oprah saying...

"Gayle and I are here this evening at Les Beaus to listen to some Indigo Girls music, watch "Personal Best," and show off of our new Birkenstocks, not because we're lesbians, but because we want to thank our fans."

Sure, Oprah. Sure. Whatever lets you sleep at night.

"It Went Into My..."

A little game.

Watch the video below. It ends with the woman saying, "It went into my..."

Help me figure out what it went into.

"Put Some South In Your Mouth"

Yep, that's me with Paula Deen's sons, Jamie and Bobby.

Sure, they're 2-dimensional and behind glass, but I take what I can get.

Last week, while we were on vacation in Hilton Head, SC, my brother graciously drove to Savannah early Thursday morning, stood in line and made a reservation for my mother, my brother and me to eat at Paula Deen's restaurant, The Lady & Sons.


That's how you have to do it there. You can't call to make a reservation. You have to be there.

Then, he drove back to Hilton Head, and a few hours later, I woke up.

I don't do early mornings. Especially on vacation.

So, that afternoon, the three of us drove to Savannah and at 2:30 p.m., I was in Paula Deen Heaven.

And by "Paula Deen Heaven," I don't mean the restaurant, I mean the buffet.

Going to The Lady & Sons and not getting than the buffet would be like going to a college wrestling meet and not staring at all the singlet-bound packages.

It's there. It's in front of you. Dive right in, baby. The water is FINE!

Fried chicken, meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, sweet potatoes, greens covered in vinegar and for dessert, Paula's very own gooey butter cakes.

All that incredible Southern food. That's what the phrase, "Put Some South In Your Mouth" means.

Of course, I have that phrase on the back of my new Paula Deen t-shirt. And it means something quite different when I wear it walking through Boystown.

"You Just Put Your Lips Together and Blow"

My good friend Erin just sent me this picture in an email that said...

"I saw it and of course
thought of you."

She knows me so well.

If anyone knows where I can find one of these, please let me know.

Inflating one of these while watching the DVD of "Wolverine" is the closest I will ever get to giving Hugh Jackman a hummer.

Don't judge. I live alone.

"My Rebellion Wasn’t Drugs, It Was Not Doing Night-Club Work"

Carrie Fisher's one-woman show, "Wishful Drinking," began previews last night on Broadway.

It's being produced by the Roundabout Theatre.

At Studio 54.

Carrie Fisher. Talking about her life. At Studio 54.

Can it possibly get any better than that?

No.

Paul Simon once took Ms. Fisher to Studio 54 on a date. When it was a disco. No, when it was THE disco.

In The New Yorker, Carrie had this to say about playing Studio 54...

“I’m only going to play theatres
where I’ve been really high.”

Dear God, how I adore this woman!

"Hold on Tight, We'll Muddle Through"

Another Oprah moment for me.

Today, Mackenzie Phillips discussed her new book, "High on Arrival," her drug problems and the incestuous relationship she had with her father.

Valerie Bertinelli surprised Mackenzie, briefly discussed their long history together, and then said the most brilliant thing...

"Give less judgment, more grace."

Amen to that.

P.S. In the "One Day at a Time" theme song, did anybody know the lyric in the bridge was, "So, up on your feet"? I always thought it was, "So, WHOP on your feet!" And what the fuck did I think THAT meant?!?

"Wha Uh Oh!"

The clip below is why I never video taped myself singing and dancing when I was a kid.

Well, I didn't video tape myself singing and dancing because of my belief that something like what happens at the end of this video would occur, and also because I couldn't (and still can't) really dance, per se.

I'm sort of what you'd call a "mover." I'm actually more a "Patti LuPone."

Not that I share her brilliant, machine gun vibrato, but I do share her style of singing a verse and chorus down center, retreating to the back of the stage during the dance break, and then returning to center to finish the song with a huge money note after "those people" have done their thing.

And by "those people," I mean those barely-pubescent zygotes with their crushed-up toes, hot asses, high cheek bones and Adonis-line waists. The dancers. The REAL dancers.

Who? Me? Bitter much? Absolutely.

So, video taping myself dancing at ANY age is not something that I would do.

Besides, I've always been too busy video taping myself fucking every Tom, Dick and Harry (or getting fucked by every hairy Tom's dick) that I cruised on the street or the information superhighway. And my movement on those pieces of film is quite enjoyable, according to the comments on my XTube page. Just sayin'...

"And I'm Gonna Be High as a Kite by Then"

Something for Super Tuesday with an actual Superman. Well, almost an actual Superman, any way.

That's Nicolas Cage in a recently leaked test shot for the "Thank God It Wasn't Made" Tim Burton movie, "Superman Lives" back in 1999.

Supes did have long hair back then. However, Supes did not (and has NEVER) looked like Slater from "Dazed and Confused." In greasy, blue Lycra. Gross. Snap out of it.

"If I Could Only Fly"

I'm back.

Last night, I wrote half of a post about my vacation, the difficulty of being back in the South - - a place I love and yet, a place where I've never felt like I fit in.

I've always felt "other" there. Always.

But just now, a little girl on Oprah (a "mermaid girl," so watch your back Wendy Williams, because Oprah's bringin' back the crazy) brought up, out of the blue, that her parents are separated and in the process of getting a divorce.

The audience laughed. The father, though, said what every child of divorced parents wants to hear, regardless of their age - - that he and his wife had agreed to remain friends and that their daughter was the most important thing.

And then the mother looked at the daughter and said, "We're still what?," and the daughter said, "Ohana." The mother replied, "Always."

Oprah asked what it meant, and the little girl said...

"Ohana means family and family means no one gets left behind or forgotten."

Which is why I'm crying. Crying so hard. Because I love my family so much. And I wish I fit in more, was more like them.

But I also know, like this little girl knows, that my family won't ever leave me behind or forget me. Ever. No matter what I do or how different I am.

Yeah. It was one Hell of an emotional vacation. And I wish I was still there. So much.


P.S. If you don't know the song that shares the title of this post, listen to it. It's one of my favorite songs and explains exactly how I feel right now. And often.

"All We Hear Is Radio Gaga"

I'm watching the MTV Video Music Awards.

Yes, it's one of the 7 signs, but two things...

1) Kanye West is a petty, pathetic, rude, annoying prick for interrupting Taylor Swift's acceptance speech.

But then again, Kanye has always shown us that he is a petty, pathetic, rude, annoying prick, so I guess it's just another day in the life of this particular celebrity fuckwit.

2) My mother gave the quote of the night and perhaps of the year when she said...

"What in the Hell is a
'Lady Gaga?'"

God, I love my mother. Now, somebody - - what in the Hell IS a "Lady Gaga?" Because I just don't friiggin' get it.

"Everything's Coming Up Rose's What?"

Here I am in Hilton Head. Not a gay bar on the island. Not a gay person (other than my brother, and really, does that even count? No...) to be found for miles.

And my cute friend Dan Cox emailed me this video with this subject line...

"Ladies and gentlemen, the biggest faggot on the internet..."

I needed this. I needed this in a bad way.




P.S. When he dedicates the video to the revival cast of SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE, I laughed so hard, I shattered glass. Just like Patti does with her vibrato.

"Some Beach, Somewhere..."

It has begun.

The annual family pilgrimage / vacation to Hilton Head, SC has begun.

It was AN EVENT trying to get here, but I'm here. We're here.

And unfortunately, even though my mother's name is Wanda, this Speedo-wearing hottie is NOT here.

Oh well. I have my new beach book - - Kathy Griffin's "Official Book Club Selection." I have sand, I have sun.

And I have my family. And time to spend with them.

As all of those annoying Facebook entries say at the end, "Life is good."

P.S. Since Hilton Head is described by my mother as "The Redneck Riviera," a white trash way of saying "Life is good," would be a picture of me and my family in all our "good ol' boy," less-than-impressive finery with the simple caption....

"I wonder what the poor people are doing?"

Have a great week, y'all. I'll be working on my tan. And by "working on," I do mean "getting one."

"No Mere Mortal Can Resist..."

You haven't lived until you've seen Wonder Woman, Burger King and 903 other DragonCon attendees attempt to break the Guinness World's Record for the number of people doing the "Thriller" dance.

Truly awesome. Only in the ATL.

And I know she's not married to him anymore, but still, I can't think of Atlanta without thinking of Whitney screaming, "Bobby!"

God, I miss "Being Bobby Brown."

Anyway, here's the awesomeness...

"When I Think About You..."

Don't do it. Don't even think about it. At least, until tomorrow, anyway.


Americans Observing 9/11 By Trying Not To Masturbate

P.S. I want "Whitney Houston Gets Back Together" on a t-shirt. Hilarious.

"Lying in My Bed I Hear the Clock Tick"

"Sometimes I lie awake at night, and ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?'

"Then a voice says to me,
'This is going to take more than one night.'"

- Charles M. Schulz

"Lying is Done with Words and Also with Silence"

Last night, Congressman Joe Wilson interrupted President Obama's speech by screaming the word, "Liar!"

Good for Congressman Wilson.

Not that I agree with him. Not in the least. But, think about his actions in a different light.

Senator John McCain called Wilson's interruption, "totally disrespectful," adding that, "There is no place for it in that setting, or any other, and he should apologize for it immediately."

Bruce Maiman of the Examiner went further, saying that Wilson's outburst, "was an extraordinary breach of congressional decorum and a disgusting display of poor manners."

I'm sorry, are we enjoying high tea at the Palmer House or are we trying to run a country here?

Not that we're going to get a Hell of a lot done in Congress (as if THAT'S ever been an issue in Congress... getting TOO MUCH done...) if we allow screaming and ranting and "The View"-style backtalk in the chamber, but last night, Wilson showed us once again that Republicans have balls - - balls that the Party of Pussies, the Democrats, can only dream of feeling swinging between their legs.

Because if once - - just ONCE! - - in the eight year reign of George "Dubya" Bush, a Democrat had shouted "Liar!" at any of the gross untruths that man shoved down our throats over and over again, perhaps we wouldn't be in the ungodly mess we are in now. A mess that even a Barack Obama can't seem to get us out of because he's too busy trying to convince the Glenn Becks of the nation that inspiring children to stay in school and learn is not "Marxist brainwashing."

Say what you will about the Republicans, but even when their party is at an all time low, they have their talking points down. And they know that it's better to do something and apologize for it afterwards, than ask permission, be denied and never gain any footing whatsoever.

What do the Democrats have? The "public option." A confusing term they can't seem to explain, agree upon, figure out a way to promote, or decide if it should or should not be a part of healthcare reform.

The Democrats remind me a lot of the Gay Community. Again and again, I think, "What's it going to take to get these people angry enough to stand up and fight for themselves?" For gays and lesbians, Prop 8 did that to a limited extent. But the Democrats? How much Fox News bile are they going to swallow before they spit it back in all those ridiculous, bloated, Right Wing faces?

I look forward to a day when a Democrat becomes so enraged during an official speech that their behavior is described as "an extraordinary breach of congressional decorum and a disgusting display of poor manners"

Because what is there to fear? In Bruce Maiman's Examiner article, he claims that Wilson wrote his "political epitaph" last night ("the man who called the president a liar"), reporting that the Congressman "had taken a brutal beating on his Twitter page."

A "brutal beating on his Twitter page"?!? Gee, how horrible. I'll bet all the sons of bitches who were tarred and feathered hundreds of years ago would consider themselves lucky that they never had to endure a "brutal beating on their Twitter page."

Why do the adults in this country continue to talk like and live their lives as if they were all 8 year old girls passing notes in a middle school math class?

Come on, Dems. While your chastising Congressman Wilson, will you take a few notes?

Or better yet, just get fucking angry.

"With Flaming Locks of Auburn Hair"

These are pictures that someone took from last weekend's Dragon*Con in Atlanta.

A friend of a friend commented on one of the pics, and I started browsing through the folder. You know how it goes...

Of course, usually I'm browsing through the complete works of Adam Wolfe and reminiscing, but this will do. This will do nicely.

Because y'all, is it me or is this Robin PACKIN'?!?

Sure, I have my Robin Fetish, so I may be making an inch into a mile for my own enjoyment, but even so...

This Robin gets around.

Notice that the Batman in the first picture is NOT the same Batman in the second picture.

So many Bat-poles, so little time.

'Atta girl, Red (haired) Robin. 'Atta girl.

"I Wanna Take You to a Gay Bar!"

Here's a little piece of Heaven from "The Soup."

One of the guys from "The Real World" asks his gay roommate to "gay" him as hard as he can.

It sounds like a queer "Fight Club," doesn't it?

Brad Pitt saying to Edward Norton...

"I want you to gay me
as hard as you can."

Yeah, you're right...

Queer "Fight Club" is an oxymoron.

Enjoy...

"Undercover Angel, Midnight Fantasy"

On this Day of Labor, allow me to be your Gayngel.

For the record, I'm your gay angel Kelly.

I'd like to be your gay angel Jill, but my hair, even when I had more of it, simply will not feather.

And I'm sorry, but if you want me to be your gay angel Sabrina, you can lick my raw, blistered nutsack.

When I was a boy and we would play Charlie's Angels (Yes, I was THAT gay THAT early), I always had to be Sabrina. And I hated it. Why did I have to be the lesbian Angel?!?

And don't tell me that Sabrina wasn't a lesbian. Everybody knew Bri was a lesbian. Especially Charlie. Watch any episode from the first season and you'll hear Charlie say something like...

"Jill, you'll be a high-priced call girl. Kelly, you'll be a sophisticated, runway fashion model. And Sabrina, you're a truck driver. Sixteen wheeler."

Dyke. Through and through. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's just that, as a little gay boy entering into a fantasy world of make-believe with my friends, the last thing I wanted to pretend to be was ANOTHER GAY PERSON!!! Can't I at least PRETEND that I'm straight? For a fucking afternoon?!? Oy...

So here I am. Your gay angel Kelly. Ready for action.

"I Got a Complicated Order!"

This is a little piece of Heaven on earth.

My friend Ruth sent this to me and I have one request.

I want to find the 911 worker heard here and I want to be her best friend.

No, more than that. I want to nominate her for public office.

The other woman - - the crazy lady who calls 911 when Burger King doesn't get her order right - - needs to be forced to work some SERIOUS community service hours.

As my Daddy used to say, "She needs an attitude adjustment." Which was his polite way of saying that someone needed to bust her little ass.

If only Bon Qui Qui had taken her order. If only...

"I Don't Know How It Got There, Just Get It Out!"

Fail Blog considers this to be a real estate "House Advertisement Fail."

But you know, I think it's a "House Advertisement Win."

Seriously. This ad would definitely convince me to buy.

The house, not the dildo.

The dildo would just get lost.

In me and my toy closet.

Notice I didn't say "box."

About me or where my toys go.

"Helga, When You Polish the Floor, You Have to Move the Tree!"

It's out! Finally!

The video for one of my favorite songs of all time - - "I'm Mad at the Dirt!"

My favorite song by one of my favorite bands - - The Joans!

And not only do I know nearly everyone in The Joans, I know the Joan that wrote this song. I know him very well - - my good friend Aaron from Go Away, I'm Reading.

If you're in Chicago, join me at The Joans CD release party this Friday at Schubas at 10pm!

You know, a few minutes ago a reporter asked me what I thought and how I would describe the marriage between Schubas and The Joans. I told him I thought it was a hell of a match!

P.S. If you don't know that the two sentences above are my little take on a famous line from "Mommie Dearest," you may not want to stand beside me while The Joans are on stage. I get a little wiggy. No pun intended.

"Schadenfreude! Making Me Feel Glad That I'm Not You!"

Just when I thought that I never wanted to see another homemade YouTube video of someone dancing to "Single Ladies," a woman in a clown mask comes along and renews my faith in the Fail.

Yes, the Fail. Watch and learn, because whatever this is...

Ringling Bros. Fail?

Beyonce the Clown Fail?

"Why so serious? Let's boogie!" Fail?

...it is, above all else, HI-larious!

FYI: When searching for a pic of a female clown, there is only one choice - - Harley Quinn. "Mister J" is there to remind you that it's sick and twisted to laugh at another clown's pain.

It's also a LOT of FUN!!!

"I Had to Stop Her From Screaming"

This is Roger Stephens. Prospero at Caliban's Revenge introduced me to him.

No, he didn't introduce me to Roger personally. I would need to be incredibly drunk for that to happen (that scowl, that nose and that SuperCut are SO not doing it for me). And Roger would need to be released from jail.

You see, Roger was shopping in a Wal-Mart in Georgia and became upset because a 2 year old girl was making too much noise. So, he told the mother of the child, if she wouldn't make the child be quiet, he would.

And since the child did not become quiet, he slapped the little girl. In the face. Because nothing says "Valium" to a 2 year old like a slap in the face. From a grown man.

After reading this story and looking through the pictures on People of Walmart, I've come to the conclusion that certain Wal-Marts are actually trapped inside a Fellini film. Think about it. Think about your local Wal-Mart. Yeah, THAT one...

You know it's true that if you were shopping in that Wal-Mart and you saw a clown walking down the aisle dragging a dead goat on a leash carrying a sign that said, "Free Tibet!," you would wave and say, "Hi, Herb!" That is, if you even noticed Herb at all.

Why? Because the wrong and the bizarre are the everyday and the normal inside a Wal-Mart.

Thank God, in Roger's case, the police still have jurisdiction inside of those discount emporiums owned, operated and directed by Mr. "8 1/2."

P.S. If you see a "Mr. 8 1/2" on Manhunt, it's really "Lil' Boy 4 1/4." Just sayin'...

"Bacon is Good for Me!"

Watch this little boy. Just watch what happens when his "new mom" on "Wife Swap" takes away his bacon. It's not pretty...

"Joy, I have been nice to you, but now, I'm coming to the edge!"

Change "Joy" to "Donna" and that little boy is me 20-something years ago, telling my stepmother where she can go and what she can take with her.

Or rather, where I'M going to go and what I'M going to take with me. Starting with that cheese in a can. Yum..

Thanks to Steve Swift for introducing me to this clip.

"I Like 'Em Round, With Somethin' Somethin'"

I saw this over at Seduced By the New... a few days ago.

Not this picture, but the site that it came from.

My new favorite blog - - People of Walmart.

Yes, this woman was found inside a Walmart. Shocker.

You walk down the aisle of plumbing tools and there she is, Queen of the Muffin Top.

I'm sure we're related. Somehow.