"You Are an Anonymous Bitch!"

The Chicago Redeye...

...a free version of the Chicago Tribune, scaled- and dumbed-down for the on-the-go, 20-something who never reads newspapers, even when they're free, scaled- and dumbed-down just for them...

...has a section where a "panel of experts passes judgment on the fashion choices of celebrities and Chicagoans alike." It's called Redeye's Wearwolves.

Get it? "Wearwolves" and not "werewolves." God, they're clever and trendy! Careful not to step in my sarcasm.

I despise the Redeye's Wearwolves. Both the section and the "panel of experts" themselves.

Some photographer from the Redeye goes to a bar on a certain night and takes pictures of a few people; people who just wanted to go out and have a good time with their friends, not walk the runway in Bryant Park. 

From the look of the pictures, these people know they are being photographed, but God only knows if the photographer told them that their photograph will be sent to a selection of fashion nobodies who will then judge, critique and/or mock their clothing choices inside a free, widely distributed "newspaper," for lack of a better word.

For example, this is what Fasano & Worth (who, I believe, own His Stuff in Andersonville) had to say about this gentleman's outfit...

"I have that same outfit— to walk my dog in."

Wow. That's so not funny. At all. Insult comedy is hard, isn't it, guys?

You know, Fasano & Worth, if you were even slightly funny or if your critiques were more helpful than hurtful, it might make me forget what incredible douchebag assholes you both are. 

The two of you have been making mean-spirited, nasty "What Not to Wear" comments from behind the curtain of the Great and Powerful Oz for far too long.

So, here's what I propose. The next time that Fasano & Worth are out walking their dog, someone needs to take their picture, upload it on the Redeye's site and allow the people of Chicago to give them our opinion of their fashion choices. 

And not just when they're walking the dog. I want to see what these fags wear at a bar, at the supermarket, as they leave the gym, as they leave the emergency room where they've been screaming at the ER doctor, "I don't know how it got there, just get it out!" - - everywhere.

After all their bitchy, catty critiques, it's time for these queens to take their medicine. And as my Dad says, "Paybacks are a motherfucker."

While we wait for the day when we'll be able to judge the local fashion judges, let's enjoy Whoopi Goldberg's response to an article in TV Guide by Ingela Ratledge that criticized Whoopi's clothing choices saying...

"You come to work looking like you're ready to make a run to Costco."

You can imagine what Whoopi had to say about that on The View.

This made me cheer...

Fratboy Friday

BOYS IN CAPS

"If I had a hammer, I'd hammer in the morning..."

****




SAGGERS

Sweatpants have never looked so good.

Those particular sweatpants would look better on my
bedroom floor, but still...




****

MOONERS

If they had shown this in that Little Giant Ladder infomercial,
I would have bought one. Per night.




****



DAMN, I WAS DRUNK LAST NIGHT

The guy in the middle is so hot, staring at the camera with eyes that seem to say,
"I'm hungry for love. Set the table."

The other two are staring at the camera with eyes that seem to say,
"I'm Not the Sharpest Cheese on the Platter."

Not that there's anything wrong with that...

"But Rick, Hide Me! Do Something! You Must Help Me! RICK!"

I just saw this picture of Katie Holmes on the Chicago Tribune's site and I'm sorry, this woman is in trouble.

Being Tom Cruise's wife must be pretty fucked up if it can turn Katie Holmes into Peter Lorre!


And not just ANY Peter Lorre, but Peter Lorre as Napoleon (wtf?!?)!

I guess Tom wanted her to resemble a bud-eyed man who was closer to his height.
















Apparently, when director Vincent Sherman asked Peter Lorre how he endured playing Mr. Moto in eight films, Lorre replied...

"I took dope."

Let's hope and pray Katie's got a good dealer.

"Debbie, When Life's Got You Down..."

Last night, I hit Trader Todd's with Michael for a quick bite (and a quick hug from the always beautiful and cheerful Sandy) before we took in the opening night of Porchlight Music Theatre's "Pacific Overtures."

How can I be depressed when I'm listening to the song that Sondheim considers to be his favorite song he's ever written ("Someone in a Tree")? And how can I be depressed when Charissa is there - - in red boots!

I think, to get myself out the rest of my bad mood, I should follow Debbie's advice from this video...

That may not make me feel better, but it would sure make being depressed a Hell of a lot more fun!

"But You've Got to Have Friends..."

I've been in a dark place for quite a long time. Feels like months. Maybe even years.

I slide deeper into it and occasionally, I almost crawl out of it, but it still surrounds me. There are days when the darkness is palpable.

There are days, like the last few days, where I barely make it through work and when I get home, I crash on my couch in all of my clothes and sleep there for the entire night.

I could blame it on a lot of things, but it's me. It's me not getting out. It's me feeling ugly and fat and untalented and stupid. It's me not doing anything to contradict those feelings.

But I'm blessed with friends. Friends like Philip; he checks up on me and is always there when I need to talk. Friends like Karen, who is also there when I need to talk and who, for no reason at all, sent me this picture - - a virtual "group hug"...

Thanks, Karen. It's hard to continue to be depressed after a group hug like that.

"Oh Danny Boy, Oh Boy, Oh Boy... Oh Danny"

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I give you "Danny Boy." 

As the kids today say, "Best Danny Boy Evar!"

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

"Ken Leee, Tulibu Dibu Douchoo"

My good friend Bea from Feeling Kinda Blog Today sent me this video last Friday and I can't stop watching it.

To say that it makes me laugh would be an understatement.

It's a clip from the Bulgarian version of American Idol with English subtitles.

This is Valentina Hasen auditioning for the show's second season singing Mariah Carey's song, "Ken Lee."

Come on, you know the song, "Ken Lee."

It's very similar to "Hucka the Bajeepers."

"You're So Gay and You Don't Even Like Boys"

Last night, I watched HBO's live telecast of Will Ferrell's next to last performance of his Broadway show, You're Welcome America: A Final Night with George W. Bush.

I was never a huge fan of Will Ferrell's comedy, but a couple of years ago, my father decided to follow-up our traditional, late night Christmas viewing of Christmas Vacation ("Shitter was full!") with Ferrell's Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby. I wasn't thrilled about watching it, but by the time we got to the scene with Ferrell saying grace, praying to "tiny, infant baby Jesus," I was hooked. He's a brilliantly funny man.

And his Broadway show is hilarious. I called my father to see if he was watching it, since my dad is a fan of both Will Ferrell and George W. Bush.

But my dad wasn't watching Will Ferrell. He was watching Graham Norton. So, as I told him the day I was stuck in a Chicago blizzard and he called to tell me he was at a Cher concert...

"Ummm, Dad. Exactly which one of us is the homosexual here?"

He laughed his ass off, but if I find out my father is buying Judy Garland cd's or if he starts describing things as "fabulous," the two of us are going to have a talk. 

I don't mean to be a bitch, but regardless of who comes out of the closet, I'm "King of the Gay People" in my family. I claimed it a long time ago. After my brother came out, I visited him in Atlanta and he introduced me to a few of his friends. After talking to them for quite awhile, one of them asked me, "Oh, are you gay too?" I said, "No, I was gay first!" 

Just sayin'...

"Now, the World Don't Move to the Beat of Just One Drum"

Once again, I ask the powers that be why Philip is not writing for a sitcom.

Because earlier today, Philip sent me a text. It was his take on this week's announcement that the Sears Tower will soon be renamed Willis Tower...

"What'choo talkin' 'bout, Sears?"

And before you ask (or before someone out there decides to steal Philip's line and this idea), plans for a "What'choo talkin' 'bout, Sears?" t-shirt have already begun. 

Fratboy Friday

It's only days away, so why not a St. Patrick's Day edition of Fratboy Friday...

BOYS IN CAPS

St. Patrick's Day is one of the few days of the year when people actually wear hats (cheap, plastic, novelty hats, that they occasionally throw up in, but still, hats are worn).

 And like the t-shirts, the beer, the food and everything that comes afterwards 

(to put it mildly), all the hats are green.

That's why, if I saw the guy on the left, I would want to blow him. And I would walk up to him and tell him that I wanted to blow him. Because I admired his bold color choice. And I would blow him. Simply because he wore a $4, yellow hat on St. Patrick's Day. 

So many of the reasons that I'm still single, they're all right there in that paragraph. I mean, does anybody else offer a "Wear a Yellow Hat and Get a Free Blowjob" special? Who's going to buy this cow when they can wear a yellow hat and get a blowjob for free? 

****

SAGGERS

This is how St. Patrick's Day is celebrated at a Chicago Bulls game by the Chicago Bulls Matadors. I love these guys! And this, my friends, is a Chicago sagger!

Also, I love the green, Hulk nipples. Just don't make him angry. 

You wouldn't like his nipples when he's angry. 

****

MOONERS

Most people describe the fratboy butts that I post as "cute," "muscled, " "tight," "hot," and "Here, have a seat... on my face," but these guys... well... 

These butts are more real. In your 20's, gravity doesn't even affect you. So, it's a shock when your ass goes from "hot" to "Jello mold" during your 30th birthday party. You don't know what to do after that.

Which is why I believe the message of the picture above is that, even if you know you're going to get drunk on St. Patrick's Day, that doesn't mean you have to show your ass in public. 

Keep it in your pants. Which brings me to... 

****

DAMN, I WAS DRUNK LAST NIGHT

Before you celebrate on Tuesday night, don't forget to wear your sparkly, St. Patrick's Day beer goggles. You'll need them when your drunken self scores a St. Paddy's Day trick.

 Because, when it comes to the one-night stand your drunk ass will meet in a dark bar, kiss for the first time beside a green river, and later have sex with while they continue to wear a plastic, felt-covered St. Pat's hat with the matching green sideburns attached, do you want your eyes to tell you the truth?

(The truth is that you're fucking a 2, and even if you fuck a 2 five times, it still won't make them a 10!!! That's the truth. And you can't handle the truth!!!), 

You'd rather have your eyes lie to you, right?

 (Meaning that your eyes will see a 2, show your mind a 10 and then remind your mind that, if you drink one more green beer, with this knob, that 10 can go all the way up to 11).

Sure, you'll regret it Wednesday morning and you might spend the afternoon giving a chemical peel to the inside of your mouth, but in the middle of it all, you can look at this guy...

...and if you're wearing the green beer goggles, you'll see this guy...

(FYI: What you're looking at is not at 11, yet. But when those boxers come off, it's an 11 alright. And then some...)

So, wear the beer goggles. But the next day, try not to think about where your tongue has been. 

Just keep gargling and flossing. That taste will go away eventually.

"Up, Up and Away"

I'll admit it. I'm one of those Chicagoans who still has not forgiven Macy's for taking over and re-naming our beloved Marshall Fields stores.

Since the Macy's rebranding, I have yet to buy one single thing from Macy's. Not even a Frango.

And the "No Frangos" thing is killing my mother. For years, I would go home for Christmas with a big box of Frangos for her. Or as she pronounces them, "Fuh-RAIN-goes."

And now, another Chicago icon is changing as the Sears Tower is being renamed Willis Tower.

The Willis Group, a London-based insurance brokerage has been given naming rights to the tower as a part of its deal to relocate area offices to three floors in the building.

Three floors? Just three? Hell, when I first moved to Chicago, I worked for a venture capital firm that took up all of the 95th floor and part of the 96th. And all they got to name was their office, not the whole friggin' building.

Chicagoans don't take this kind of thing lightly. But really, I doubt anyone anywhere would if someone from another city renamed a building closely associated with that community.

Willis Group's chairman and CEO Joseph Plumeri doesn't understand why the name change is so upsetting to people in the Windy City. His response in the Chicago Tribune...

"Would you rather have an iconic building with nobody in it, which doesn't say a lot about Chicago, or someone with enough faith to take the space?

"The headline should be: A company has decided to invest money in Chicago, and if you miss that headline, you've missed the side of the building by a mile and a half."

So, in the spirit of The Daily Show's Jon Stewart, I humbly reply to Mr. Plumeri...

"Fuck you."

I want Mr. Plumeri, his pale, tea-drinking, scone-eating limey ass, his 500 employees and his "I've got a small dick, so I need to rent 3 floors of the tallest building in the western hemisphere to feel good about my wood" money out of my city. For his own good.

Because soon it will be summer and summer will bring "Bat Night" at Wrigley Field. And if Mr. Plumeri keeps up the snotty, arrogant attitude, me and a few hundred drunken Cubs fan will find that cockney motherfucker, here or in London, and teach him some manners with our Louisville Sluggers.

And for the record, I won't be striking Mr. Plumeri with my baseball bat. But trust me when I say that he will feel it. He will definitely feel it.

"Well, I Am Stunned. Just Stunned..."

Love stories. Rick ended his by putting Ilsa on that plane to Lisbon. Katie knew she had finally let go of hers when she happily told Hubbell that his girl was lovely. And in the freezing waters of the ocean, Rose let go of Jack by... well... letting go of Jack and watching him sink out of sight.

...And you know, at the end of the movie, we find out that Rose (who is now John McCain's age) still has that huge-assed diamond Billy Zane gave her. So basically, Kate Winslet can't hold onto Leonardo DiCaprio, a man she loves, has posed nude for and gotten fucked by in the backseat of a car, even though holding onto him will save his life, but doesn't seem to have ANY problem hanging onto a Billy Barty-sized diamond she got FROM ANOTHER MAN! Now, I ain't sayin' she a gold digger... but...

Jean Grey vaporizes Cyclops. Wolverine stabs Jean Grey. The cycle continues on and on. Even today.

For as you're probably already well aware, today we learned that Levi Johnston has ended his relationship with Bristol Palin.

My reaction was... well... Blanche can explain it better than I can...

Yes, we all saw this coming (a fact that sadly takes all the pleasure out of saying "I told you so."). Everyone knew that Bristol and Levi would never make it. "It" being the end result of two people who have spent decades together, loving each other, creating a family, supporting each other and not coming anywhere close to breaking their marriage vows.

So actually, today's news was slightly shocking. I mean, not only did Bristol and Levi NOT make it to the end of a decades-long marriage filled with unconditional love and mutual respect, they couldn't even get their asses to the starting line!

Not that I think they should have gotten married and not that the two of them didn't try to make their relationship work. "Sex on Skates" (a.k.a. "Levi," who, I must admit, cleaned up so well for the RNC, I very much wanted to touch his balls... as a friend...) stayed with Bristol during her pregnancy and for the birth of their child. He even has her name tattooed on his ring finger.

But when faced with the very real terror of marrying into the Palin family, for Levi, love means never having to say, "I do."

Still, I'm confused about one thing.

When a young man backs out of a shotgun wedding in Wasilla, Alaska, does the mother of the jilted bride hunt him down on land, or does she do that moose-hunting helicopter trick and pop a cap in his ass while airborne?

P.S. Speaking Palin, Bill Maher had this to say in Real Time's New Rules last Friday...

"Ronald Reagan used to say the nine most terrifying words in the English language were 'I'm from the government and I'm here to help.'

"But that was before 'I'm Sarah Palin, now show me the launch codes.'"

It's funny (and terrifying) because it's true.

"Anything But Tranquilizing, Right On Maude!"

My cold got a little worse. Last night, I coughed so hard, so often and so loudly that my lungs actually hurt from being shaken by all the vibrations.

It felt like I had Patti LuPone's vibrato and Ethel Merman's "money note" together in each cough. Machine gun stacatto and "hit back row of the Schubert" VOLUME (...for me, For Me, FOR ME!...), both adding to the pain in my throat.

I tried to keep my lips puckered and cough slightly off-pitch so that I could sound like Bernadette Peters as well, but I was just too sick to backphrase each one of my coughs last night.

And I was just too sick to drag my hacking butt to work today. So, I stayed home and when the chills hit my body, I knocked myself out with Tylenol PM. I loved it. I remained alive, but unconscious until my fever broke earlier this evening. I'm feeling much better now.

I still sound like Brenda Vaccaro doing a Playtex commercial, though.

In the morning, if I sound more like Bea Arthur singing The Man in the Moon from Mame, will that mean I'm getting better or worse? Yeah, probably worse. But you know, a cold that turns you into Bea Arthur might not be such a bad thing if you think about it...

Pursuing relationships only with men named Walter...

Wearing muumuus & kaftans 24/7...

Showing everyone pictures of my daughter, Carol and when Rue McClanahan tells me that my daughter Carol is really Adrienne Barbeau, bitchily replying, "God will get you for that, Vivian..."

I sincerely hope my fever is back. I sound batshit crazy...

"Baby Kuh-ai-EHL-lie"

I went to work today for a little while, not because I felt a ton better, but because I stupidly left my cell phone at my office yesterday. Or at least, I hoped I had left it there and not lost it on my sickly trek back home.

I've taken two naps since this afternoon and evening and when I awoke from the second one, I needed something to get me out of my sick funk of a mood.

So, I started watching Nancy Grace.

Many people have talked about this before (primarily Kathy Griffin), but y'all...

Does Nancy Grace know she's doing a comedy show?

And not just A comedy show. I would say Nancy is Madame President McCuckoo Panties, presiding over one of the most hilarious comedies on television today.

I don't need medicine to make me feel better when I can watch clips like these... Enjoy...

And just for the brilliance of it, here is Kathy Griffin discussing Nancy Grace. Genius.

"One Day, You're In and the Next Day, You're Out"

The Boy from Florida is, right this very minute, attending a meet-and-greet with fashion designer and Project Runway judge Michael Kors.

I sent Florida Boy a text, saying that I hoped he had fun this afternoon and for him to tell Mr. Kors hello from me.

The Boy from Florida immediately called me back and said, "Michael Kors is standing right next to me. Do you want to tell him yourself?"

I told him no. I mean, what would I say to him?

"Hello, Mr. Kors. I'm a homosexual fan of yours who watches Project Runway religiously."

And he would reply...

"Get in line."

"Come Gather 'Round People, Wherever You Roam"

Well, I made it to work - - barely - - and I have a little treat for you. But you have to watch this quickly. As in, "now."

This is the title sequence for Watchmen. If you haven't seen it yet, this should entice you to go. If you have seen it, you know you want to see the titles again, right? Breathtaking...

"It's Like Paying a Hooker for Housecleaning"

I'm attempting to go into work late. We'll see how far my fever and cough take me.

In the meantime, it seems my belief that a squid-less Watchmen is an improved Watchmen is bullshit.

That is, if you agree with Adolf Hitler...

"Soph, You Ain't Wearin' No Underwear"

Before I begin, I just want you to know, that's not me in the picture.

I use a rectal thermometer. It makes being sick WAY more fun. That said...

What do you do when you're home and sick with a cold / mini-flu on one of the rainiest weekends in Chicago?

I mean, other than sleep a lot, drink a lot and pee a lot. 

And when I say "pee a lot," I don't mean "on someone." For a change.

Well, if you're me, you browse the internet off and on. In between coughing / hacking up a lung.

And this little "fail" video made me think to myself...

"Why don't actors get to do this on stage? 

Apparently, the Goodman Theatre's six-hour, nine-act (I'm not joking) production of Eugene O'Neill's play Strange Interlude could benefit from one of the actors, feeling really great about the scene he just played, walking to the edge of the stage, shouting, "Nailed it!" and doing that ping-pong champ's dance. 

P.S. To whomever it was sitting in the balcony of the Goodman's press opening for "Strange Interlude" who shouted back to the stage...

"Why are you butchering this play, this beautiful play?"

...I wanna party with you, cowboy.

"Watch It Wiggle, See It Jiggle..."

Zack Snyder's film version of Watchmen is an incredible accomplishment. He remained incredibly true to the 12 issue comic book written by Alan Moore. 

So true, it caused me to jump, gasp and then poke Philip several times throughout the film, as Dave Gibbons' comic panels came to life on the screen - - iconic images from the graphic novel were brilliantly chosen for the movie's storyboard, which sounds like an obvious choice... but...

Apparently, director Paul Greengrass was in pre-production for his version of Watchmen in 2005 and in his version, the time was moved up to present day and the Cold War was changed to the "war on terror." So, I imagine making a movie that stays true to the source material's art might not have been high on Mr. Greengrass' priority list.

Zack Snyder obviously loves the graphic novel and his direction deserves high praise. His cuts are smart, he condenses the story well, and - - believe it or not - - his changes, especially the ending, make the story better. 

(And to you die hard fanboys enraged by my saying that, I've got one word for you - - "squid." A.k.a. "deus ex what the fuck?!?" You wouldn't prefer the squid, would you? Really? I mean... really?)

One thing, however, did not make sense. One thing frustrated me. Almost infuriated me. 

Not on the screen, but in the audience.

Dr. Manhattan, in the graphic novel and in the movie, is naked throughout most of the story. Granted, some people might be a little shocked at seeing a blue, flaccid penis in a comic book movie, so the first time it's shown, I'll give everyone a pass... But...

Every time Dr. Manhattan's blue penis was seen on the screen (and mind you, these are NOT closeups), I could hear a few guys giggling, snickering and laughing.

Why?

I mean it. Why did they laugh that fucked up, frat boy laugh that seems to say, "Day-um, bro! I don't want to be seeing this"?

1) Immaturity? It's an R rated movie, so these weren't elementary school children. Why do grown men giggle at the sight of another man's "wee-wee"? It was like someone dropped their pants at "Show and Tell" with these guys.

2) Shock? Each one of these guys has a penis, right? It's not as if they saw some ridiculous, anaconda-like, piece of flesh hanging between another guys' legs for the first time and thought, "What the Hell IS THAT THING?!?" So, what's so damn funny about seeing a body part that you have on your very own body? 

3) Awe? Were they dumbstruck by this particular penis' gigantic size? Nope. I mean, call me a size queen, but Dr. Manhattan's penis wasn't too big or too small, it was just right. (Besides, when I see a gigantic penis, I don't laugh. I might beg a little - - or a lot - - but I don't laugh)

3) Smurfiness? Yes, it's a blue penis, but that can't be what's making these guys laugh, can it? I've seen hundreds of penises of different shapes, sizes and yes, colors and not one of them caused me to giggle when I first looked at it. (Because that would be rude and frankly, miniatures don't make me laugh)

So, if these guys are penis-swinging grown men who don't laugh at The Smurfs, then I guess the giggles come from nervous laughter. Yep, that's right... I'm sayin' it...

Maybe, deep down, they want to touch, suck, lick or "take in" someone else's penis (blue or otherwise) and they can't allow that. Beause they're not gay. So, they laugh out loud.  Because they assume that's what straight guys do. 

I know, I know... It's far fetched to say that any guy who laughs over and over again at Dr. Manhattan's penis is gay, but it does make me ask the same question that popped into my head after the "wardrobe malfunction" at the Super Bowl a few years ago.

If seeing one nipple causes national chaos and seeing one penis causes grade school laughter, my question is... 

When are we Americans going to grow the fuck up?

Fratboy Friday

BOYS IN CAPS

Please come to Boston, indeed.

****

SAGGERS

That picture isn't in 3-D and yet...

****

MOONERS

"I'm the Juggernaut, bitch!"

****

DAMN, I WAS DRUNK LAST NIGHT

Any man who clips his cell phone to his g-string - - as if it were an accessory!!! - - is not gay.

The bright blue g-string on the boy with the open-mouthed, vacant stare, though...

Flawless.

"From My Cold, Puckered Butt!"

Just in case you missed this segment of The Daily Show, check out Jon Stewart's take on last weekend's meeting of CPAC, The Conservative Political Action Conference. It's truly genius...

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

CPAC After Party

Daily Show Full Episodes
Important Things With Demetri Martin

Political Humor
Joke of the Day

Tonight, Jon's guest on The Daily Show will be Billy Crudup.

A.k.a. Dr. Manhattan in the film version of Watchmen.

A.k.a. The big, blue, naked guy.

That is, the big, blue, naked guy who I will be seeing tonight at midnight when I join hundreds of other Chicago fanboys in being some of the first to watch Watchmen.

Tivo Billy on The Daily Show for me, will ya?

"That Ain't No Way to Treat a Lady"

Philip sent this video to me last week and I've probably watched it about 100 times.

It's from Brian and Nick of BriTANicK.com It's outrageously funny. And insanely bizarre.

Which is how most people describe my genitals, but still...

I thought a picture of these two cute boys would help convince you to watch the video. Especially since one of them is shirtless.

Unless Zoot suits really get you off...

Here is The 9 Ways to Treat a Woman...

"Blow, Gabriel, Blow!"

I'm not very well versed on the manga world, but I love me some cosplay...

...Hell, I love ANY kind of play...

...and Astro Boy here is just hot enough and just bizarre enough to get me goin' while simultaneously super-freakin' me out!

The head and the boots are inflatable.

From the looks of it, that's about all that's inflatable.

But fanboys can't be choosers. I'll take him.

Have to be careful, though. One prick and he could deflate.

P.S. The site selling this costume mentions, "Actual flight isn't possible in this costume!," which makes me think that our recently replaced President ordered one of these and complained when he couldn't take flight.

Ewww... the mental image of Dubya, half-naked in this costume... that'll kill your wood, won't it?

"I Wish All the Scum of the Earth Had One Throat..."

With Watchmen being released in just a few days, we are being inundated by all things Watchmen. And I love it!

The latest "sah-WEET" promotion for the movie is an interactive web site called 6 Minutes to Midnight.

You type in your name and Rorschach leads through a through a series of... well... Rorschach inkblot tests.

Enter the right answer and you open up a series of clips and images from the film. The wrong answer and Rorschach chastises you. He just said to me...

"Your mind is like a refrigerator.
Door closed. Little light off."

It was like Christian Bale asking me, "What don't you fucking understand?!?" It felt so good!

P.S. If anyone hasn't read Watchmen and is afraid they might be lost when watching the movie, io9 has created a really great spoiler-free overview with everything you need to know. Check it out.

"Two Guys, a Girl (and an Invisible Jet)"

This was just released at Threadless.

I want this.

So bad.

The t-shirt would be nice, too.

It's called Bat & Rob.

And it's kinda of perfect.

I love the mask on the robin. 

Cute. Friggin' cute.

P.S. Is anyone else going to pick up the new Wonder Woman animated film being released today? It looks pretty damn cool...

Maybe the Borders on State Street will surprise me for once and actually have items in the store that I want to purchase. Instead of multiple copies of Ann Coulter's new book.

Hmmm... Ann Coulter is sort of a real-life super villain. I'd love to see her play Cheetah in a live action Wonder Woman movie. Just to see ass get beaten to a pulp.

"What Have You Got Against Maria? She Was a Good Woman!"

After writing about my brother Jeff's exploits with a hot, rich, gay, water polo player in L.A. this past weekend...

...Who? Me? Jealous much? Absolutely...

...I find it highly amusing that the universe responded by placing this quote in my iGoogle's "Quote of the Day" box...

"Tip the world over on its side and everything loose will land in Los Angeles." 

- Frank Lloyd Wright

I think Frank is implying that you were an easy woman over the weekend, Jeff. A little trashy. Perhaps even a tad slutty.

And to that, I once again say...

"Atta girl!"

"This Time, There's No Stopping Us!"

My brother, Jeff, was in L.A. this weekend. 

I really shouldn't say why he's in L.A., but perhaps you'll figure the "why" out when I tell you that the man he is visiting and staying with has a last name for his first name. You know, like Anderson Cooper.  So, you know he comes from money. And he has money. And grey hair. Possibly. 

I haven't seen Mr. L.A.'s picture, but Jeff told me his friend plays water polo. He's staying with a rich, water polo player.  So, basically... 

"Cross Country Booty Call, your table is now available. 

Cross Country Booty Call..."

And you know what? "'Atta girl!" I'm happy for him. But last night, this rich, gay water polo player took my brother to a real, honest-to-God Hollywood party. I defrosted my freezer last night. It's apples and oranges, basically.

I got to hear all about Jeff's first Hollywood party, though. Via text message. The first one said...

"hey! we are going to a party at marc cherry's house!!!!"

I guess the hours I had spent scraping away the miniature ice planet of Hoth in my kitchen caused my brain to go numb. I saw Jeff's text and thought...

"Jeff, you don't attend a neighborhood party in the middle of an out-of-town booty call. Especially if you paid your own air fare. Out-of-town booty calls are for hittin' it and gettin' it, over and over. It's sort of like devouring 11 or 12 full plates of food at an All-U-Can-Eat buffet to make sure you get your money's worth. 

"But, I guess going to a party with his water polo teammates would be fun. Who is this Marc Cherry guy? Is he a water polo star athlete or something? I'll be he's hot...

"It would be kind of funny to sleep with a guy named Marc Cherry. If you were the top, I mean. And he was a virgin. You could go around telling people, 'I popped Marc Cherry's...' 

"HOLY FUCKBALLS! That's why I know that name! Marc Cherry is the creator / producer / writer for Desperate Housewives. 

"I don't know him through sex, 

I know him through Brie Van de Kamp Hodge!!!"

I immediately sent Jeff a text congratulating him. 

Then, I asked him to tell Mr. Cherry that I love how the title of almost every episode of Desperate Housewives comes from a Stephen Sondheim song or, more recently, a Sondheim lyric phrase.

For instance, the episode after the pilot is named "Ah, But Underneath," which is the name of a song Sondheim wrote for the 1987 London production of Follies. 

It was sung by Diana Rigg in that production. It replaced the song "The Story of Lucy and Jessie."

How do I know all of this? I'm gay... I live alone... It's complicated...

Jeff told Mark Cherry that I loved his Sondheim titles. And Mark said he was glad that I enjoyed his use of Sondheim. 

Or as the Wicked Stepsisters in Sondheim's Into the Woods sing, "We're so happy you're so happy."

I love that Jeff actually told him. But I really love the text Jeff sent to me 20 or 30 minutes after he had arrived at his first Hollywood party...

"remember when laverne and shirley went to shotz manor? that's me."

I replied with my favorite bit of dialogue from that episode, the pilot episode of Laverne & Shirley...

Rich, Society Woman: "Well, I never..."

Shirley: "It shows, honey."

And Jeff, since Marc Cherry started out as Dixie Carter's personal assistant, you are now 2 degrees away from Dixie Carter!!! That's amazing!

Me? Well, I almost have the freezer defrosted. Almost... That's something, I guess...