Fratboy Friday

My brother Jeff's birthday is tomorrow, but why wait a day when we can start the celebration with a Fratboy Friday: Birthday Edition!

Which is similar to SNL's Oprah's Favorite Things: Birthday Edition, only less butch.

Happy Birthday, Jeff. May your birthday be filled with the best of everything...

BOYS IN CAPS

High-class strippers...

****

SAGGERS

...catered cuisine...

****

MOONERS

...and a fully stocked bar.

****

DAMN, I WAS DRUNK LAST NIGHT

Last, but not least, be sure to wear a shirt like this tomorrow.
And point to the writing on the back FREQUENTLY!

I've found that having people grab my ass and wish me a Happy 21st Birthday
(EONS after the fact) makes me feel good inside and out. So to speak.

Many happy returns of the day, Jeff. And much love.

"What's in a Name?"

Just so we're clear...

This is Spidey (a.k.a. Spider-Man, seen here in one of my FAVORITE poses)...

...and these two douche bags are NOT Spidey...

Even if they think it sounds like that when they combine their names (Spencer and Heidi, for those of you with good taste who, like me, have never watched an episode of The Hills)

Even if one them dresses like Spidey, but is too vain to actually wear the Spidey mask, since that would cover up his "only famous for being famous" face.

Note to Spencer: If you want to be a superhero who doesn't wear a mask,

try Superman, you stupid twat.

Spencer and Heidi have quit the reality show, I'm a Celebrity... Get Me Out of Here!

after just a few days in the jungle.

Because they were "too famous." Because they were "the most famous people there."

Apparently, Heidi was heard whining...

"I wish they got some real celebrities like..."

...and then she said this guy's name...

I couldn't agree more! I propose another reality show for these three.

I would tune in every night if Spencer, Heidi and K-Fed were on a real-life version of that classic Ah-nold / Richard Dawson movie, The Running Man.

Am I saying that I want physical harm to come to these three? Well, maybe not death,
but a nice, deep facial scar for Heidi would make me happy.

Something like Donald Pleasence had in You Only Live Twice would be nice,

don't you think?

"Two Great Tastes That Taste Great Together"

Finally, I can enjoy two of my favorite things at one time!

My love of James Bond, 007...

...especially Daniel Craig's James Bond...

...especially Daniel Craig's James Bond coming out of the water wearing a skimpy, square cut bathing suit in Casino Royale...

...and my love of popsicles. Licking and sucking them, to be exact.

Del Monte Superfruit Smoothies has created this Daniel Craig popsicle, available in blueberry, pomegranate (ewww...) and cranberry. For a limited time and only in the UK.

You know what that means, don't you? Yep, London Calling! Shop at Harvey Nichols, see a few shows on the West End and bring home a suitcase full of dry ice and frozen, edible Daniel Craig.

That is, if I don't eat Daniel all up on the plane.

Talk about sucking my way into the Mile High Club.

Thanks to Eric McCool for sending this to me. Eric, because you've sent me this... well... to change that rather famous quote from Legally Blonde 2...

"Makes me want to suck on Daniel Craig REAL BAD."

"You Get a Line and I'll Get a Pole"

Thanks to Yellowdog Granny for posting and letting me know that today is Andy Griffith's birthday.

My father is a big fan of The Andy Griffith Show. And to me, my father is Andy.

Yes, I know that makes me Opie by default, but since Andy Taylor never shacked up with either Ellie or Helen, that sort of makes my stepmother Aunt Bee.

And that thought is... enjoyable...

There's something about the way that Andy talks to son that reminds me of my father. Sure, I'm cynical and overly jaded, but every time I happen upon the episode where Opie stands up to the bully and proudly comes home to show Andy his black eye, I start crying. And I don't stop until the end credits finish rolling.

I guess it's because Andy treats his son with respect, and in addition to being his father, he's also his friend. A family that chooses to become friends.

And for awhile, my father and I were friends. Best friends. And I miss those days.

Years ago, my stepmother asked me why I hate her so much and I bluntly said, "Because you took my father away from me." What I should have said was, "You took my best friend away from me."

So, while you may laugh at Andy and Opie when you watch them, I tune in and occasionally get a little piece of my father back.

There's nothing better.

Well, maybe if the episode contains The Fun Girls. That's a little better.

Come on, Jean Carson as Fun Girl Daphne croaking the words, "Hello, Doll!"

That's the best!

"Vodka... Don't Give Me Vodka..."

Here's what's true...

1) I probably had one too many Skyy vodka & cranberry cocktails this past Saturday as I judged Windy City Gay Idol's semi-final round.

No, that's not true.

I DEFINITELY had FIVE too many Skyy vodka & cranberry cocktails. I was drunk, tight and full of hooch. I know this because, as I stood up at the end of the event, I kept repeating to myself, "Maintain... maintain..."

2) While I was attempting to "maintain," I was also flirting with a very cute, very funny guy.

He had a goatee. He was wearing glasses. And he told me he played in a band. A band named "Genital Hercules."

His smile won me over, but he had me at "Genital Hercules."


3) When you put all that together...

Well, let's do the math...

Stephen (Idol + Judge + Wasted) x "Genital Hercules" = Paula Abdul.

Yes, I'm a cold hearted snake...

I'm forever your girl...

...and of course, "I'm tired of people not treating me like the gift that I am."

I'm the ultimate oxymoron - - a gay Paula Abdul.

"A Parade in Town"

I found out last night that my good friend Alexandra Billings has been chosen to be the Grand Marshall for Chicago's Pride Parade this year. It's about friggin' time.

Finally, we have someone as our Grand Marshall who has always been a part of the gay community. Always. And has fought with us and for us. Always.

Someone who has raised money for AIDS organizations again and again. She's one of my board members at Season of Concern.

Actually, one of my favorite Alex stories centers around Season of Concern.

After one of her performances in a play, she gave the curtain speech asking audience members to donate money to Season of Concern on the way out of the theatre. Money that funds direct-care services for people living with HIV and AIDS in and around Chicago.

As Alex stood in the doorway of the theatre with a collection can taking donations, a woman wearing a tremendous fur walked by and dropped in a one dollar bill. Alex said...

"Honey, that's a real fur.

I'm gonna need at least a fifty!"

The woman laughed and coughed up the money.

Of all the things I have done in my career, it is the criticism, advice and praise I've received from Alex that has really meant the most to me.

By criticism, I mean when she directed me in Vampire Lesbians of Sodom and told me that, when I looked at a Middle Eastern castmate on stage and called him "Osama bin Fucked-a-lot" - - a line I created - - it was "too much."

Coming up with a put down that was "too much" for Alexandra Billings made me very, very happy.

By advice, I mean the times that she called me up to warn me about people in my life, that they were hurting me and I couldn't see it. Like the day she met my ex-boyfriend. Or the night she called me to warn me about a woman I was working with. I guess I took Alex's warning a little too lightly at first, because she followed it up by saying...

"Stephen, I was a drug dealer. I was a GOOD drug dealer.

And I'm telling you that that woman is fucking with you."

And she was right. Of course. I should have listened to her about that woman and my ex much, much sooner.

And by praise, I mean the first time she called me up to sing at the Gentry. I believe she was hosting a benefit that night.

She didn't know me at all, but when I finished my song, I handed her the mic and she whispered what a good job I had done. And then got on the mic and told the audience how fabulous she thought I was. For awhile.

Praise from Alexandra Billings can get you through a whole lot of bad days.

Congratulations, Alex. I'm so proud of you and happy for you!

P.S. And I'm serious about the idea I left on your voice mail. If you want to dress up like Norma Desmond for the Pride Parade, I'll dress up like Max and drive the car. I've already got the bald head. I'm ready to go!!!

Fratboy Friday

At last night's "Wild Card Night" for Windy City Gay Idol...

...I was cheered on by cute Ryan and his posse (yes, posse, not pussy... that's later...)

...I insulted one of the singers for performing while wearing her sunglasses. I totally stole Larry David's line and said...

"You know who wears sunglasses indoors? Blind people and assholes."

...and Amy gave me the season one dvd of... well... see if you can guess what tv show it is by the quotes below.

The YouTube clips for each of the quotes are linked.

And yes, this is officially gayer than the musical theatre Fratboy Friday.

I'm always topping myself.

Don't. Say. It.

BOYS IN CAPS

"What does it mean, 'Someone left the cake out in the rain'?"

****

SAGGERS

(This is Kyle Westheimer)

"Obviously, I'm being punished for some heinous sin like,

telling Kyle Westheimer's parents that he is, in fact, a bisexual."

****

MOONERS

"Mooned everybody within a 600 mile radius!"

****

DAMN, I WAS DRUNK LAST NIGHT

"Quite frankly, I find you rude, lazy, horny and dumb."

"All Our Hopes Are Pinned Upon You..."

I'm not a big flip-flop guy. At all.

I rarely like them on someone else and I usually only wear them when I'm on vacation. And then, only from my hotel room to the beach and back. Never when I'm going out to dinner. Never.

That said, Chris from As Seen From Up Here... saw this pair of flip-flops in Chicago's Red Eye and sent me a text asking...

"If I buy you Wonder Woman flip-flops, will you wear them?"

...to which I replied...

"You frighten me. You really do. And 'Yes'"

So Chris, I found them here at Piperlime. They also have Superman and Batman, but I'm a Princess Diana boy. All the way.

Hmmm... I wonder if I would be allowed to walk on Themyscira (a.k.a. Paradise Island) with these on?

I was kind of hoping they'd have a pair of Wonder Woman sandals also. With laces that go up-the-calf like Wonder Woman first wore in the 40's. You know, when she was getting tied up in hardcore bondage in every single issue.

And people wonder where I got my fascination with being tied up. Please...

"I Survived a Shipwreck. That Was Sunday Night."

Finally, some good news on the career front.

After auditioning and/or being called back for a handfull of shows, but receiving emails from each casting director saying something like...

"We're going another way with the character you read for. We've cast Nell Carter who, although dead, is someone we believe will bring more to the role than you."

...I found out yesterday that I will be co-directing the John Michael LaChiusa musical Hello Again for Bohemian Theatre Ensemble with my good friend Michael Ryczek early next year.

So, all you musical theatre boys who see me at Sidetrack on showtunes night - - buy me some cocktails and your chances for landing a role (and me) go way, way up.

And I'm serious about not getting cast in everything I've auditioned for.

I actually will be singing at a benefit for the Bailiwick Repertory Theatre this July. At the Center on Halsted. On the set of their production of "The Cousins Grimm." A show I was called back for. Twice. And didn't get.

Which means that I'm not good enough for the show, but I am good enough to work FOR FREE and raise money for that show.

Yeah. It sucks. It really, really sucks.

And if you think that I am going to be so bold and rude as to tell the audience when I go on stage to sing the night of the benefit that I'm good enough for the benefit but not good enough for the show, you would be right.

"We're Not Ones to Go Around Spreadin' Rumors..."

My senior year history class was taught by a self-proclaimed "good Christian woman."

She was so "good" and so "Christian" that she would spend class time discussing the personal lives of current and former students as a part of her lecture. She didn't come right out and name names, but in a town as small as Powell, TN, there's no such thing as a "blind item." We all knew who she was talking about.

Maybe she thought of her occasional "true life" stories as little morality plays. She would feebly try to tie the story into that day's lesson, but it never quite fit. She simply enjoyed spreading hateful gossip about students. About students who weren't sitting directly in front of her, that is. And the more scandalous and hurtful the gossip, the better.

Any rumor she had heard about a student that involved alcohol or drugs, sex or pregnancy would be passed on to the entire class, detail by detail. The slimier the story, the more she would chuckle. The more her smug, little grin would grow.

The day she passed on the news that one of boys in the previous year's graduating class was (gasp) a homosexual and that he performed late nights (snicker) as a drag queen, her grin became enormous and her chuckle grew into a cackle. She looked so pleased with herself as she outed someone we all knew. I can still remember the smile on her face as she told us all about "the homosexual."

But I didn't say a word. I couldn't. I was far from out but I still was called a fag every single day as I walked down the halls. And I still got knocked around in the bathroom on occasion. Staying silent was the only way to survive.

I made it through that class, but the second I hit the hallway, I started crying. I couldn't hold it back. Because I knew that someday, that teacher would be standing in front of her class telling that same story about me. And smiling that same smile. Full of disgust. And superiority.

Today, when I heard that the California Supreme Court upheld Prop 8, I started thinking about that teacher, that story, and her smile.

I thought about how so many "good Christians" use their faith in God - - a God who only asks us to love each other as we love ourselves - - to gleefully hurt others.

I thought about how out of touch they are with the real world.

One day in class, when we were discussing the Underground Railroad, that same teacher asked us to raise our hands if we would have accepted runaway slaves into our home.

Everyone raised their hand. Everyone, except me.

She gave me a shocked look of disapproval and said, "So, you wouldn't take a runaway slave into your home to help him or her achieve freedom?"

And I said, "No, I probably would have done that. But since I'm not actually living in that day and age, I'm not going to be so pious as to claim that I WOULD do that."

And before she could respond, I asked, "Has anyone here offered to take in a person living with AIDS who was kicked out of his parent's house and has no place to live? No? Then, I think you have your answer for who would have accepted slaves in their home for the Underground Railroad."

I doubt she even understood my point. And the sad thing about that teacher and all of those people so vehemently opposed to gay marriage is that, once it's approved and time passes, they will look back on the issue and honestly believe that they supported gay marriage.

Because they always have to be right. And anything they do is always and forevermore "good."

"The Lies of Handsome Men"

This Memorial Day, as we recognize and remember the men and women who died in military service for our country, let's also think about the nearly 12,500 gay and lesbian members of the our armed forces who have been discharged under "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy.

Especially Lt. Dan Choi, the latest Arabic translator to be dismissed from the National Guard because of his sexuality. Making him the first gay person discharged from the military since President Obama took office.

Now, I understand that Obama is busy blowing out the fire billowing through our Hindenburg of an economy, while simultaneously trying to end one war while escalating another, so I haven't given up hope. I believe he will make every effort to end "Don't Ask, Don't Tell." But...

Is it just me, or is it starting to feel like deja vu all over again? No, it's actually, it's more like everything new was old. Again.

I feel like the waiter at this hot, new restaurant sold me on the chef's signature dish, (the "Change We Can Believe In" frittatas served with"Yes We Can" risotto) and even though the food looks spectacular and the aroma is mouth-watering, something in my gut tells me it's going to taste like Clinton.

Err... I mean, chicken. ("Taste like Clinton." I just stepped in Lewinsky...)

Think about it. Clinton promised he would end the ban on gays in the military when he ran for his first term in '92 and within months of his taking office, we got "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," a policy that actually increased the number of gays and lesbians discharged from the U.S. military.

I get the feeling that Obama is facing the same realities in his first few months in office. God forbid history repeats itself, the ban continues and we get a new policy even more confusing than the one we have.

Then again, what could be more confusing and illogical than "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"? As Jon Stewart explained a couple of weeks ago on The Daily Show...

"Dan Choi is one of 54 Arabic translators dismissed due to their sexual preference.

"So, it was okay to waterboard a guy over 80 times, but God forbid the guy who
could understand what that prick

was saying has a boyfriend."

If the ban on gays in the military is actually lifted, I wonder if I can be a WAC? Or maybe an Andrews Sister. I'm thinking Patty. She was sort of the Beyonce of the group. So Patty. Definitely Patty.

"Where's Andre?"

I'm not quite sure what's going on at Marvel Comics these days.

First, they announced Marvel Divas, which, as io9 wrote...

"...rips off 'Sex And The City' and indie comic 'Ultra' by pairing up four superheroines so that they can talk about boys and shoes..."

...and this past week, I've been reading about another new Marvel book, Models, Inc. (not to be confused with the short-lived Fox tv series of the same name), that combines Mary Jane Watson, Patsy "Hellcat" Walker and Millicent "Millie the Model" Collins in one book.

I was unsure if they were trying to TRYING to be offensive to women, or if they were attempting to grab the gay male comic fan (who likes both well-drawn packages AND models talking about boys and shoes) until I saw this...

Tim Gunn will be featured in the first issue of Models Inc.

Not only will he be featured in the issue, he will also jump into one of Iron Man's suits to fight off the bad guys and save the day.

Correction: Tim Gunn will jump into one of Iron Man's suits to fight off the bad guys AT A FASHION SHOW and save the day.

So, this is obviously for gay men. And when you think about it, who has a better superhero name than Tim Gunn? Tim Gunn makes Sgt. Rock sound like a pussy.

I would actually start buying Marvel Comics if Tim Gunn's Iron Man led The Avengers.

I can just hear Tim changing the age-old battle cry of "Avengers Assemble!" to his fabulous catchphrase, "Make It Work!"

I wish The Wasp was still around. Tim Gunn chatting with The Wasp? Fugheh-dah-bowd-eht.

P.S. Not to be outdone at putting female comic book characters into one series and making them look like sluts on parade, DC will be offering Gotham City Sirens, featuring Catwoman, Poison Ivy and Harly Quinn. I wish I was making that up.

I won't be buying that one. I'll be buying every issue of Batwoman's run in Detective Comics. Hot, sexy, ferocious and a lesbian. Count me in.

"Midnight, Not a Sound from the Pavement..."

Earlier this evening, I heard one of my neighbors yell the following to a man standing in the alley...

"Hey, you! I see you! Are you peeing? You can't pee there!

This alley is for sex only!"

Sure, when I first moved onto this street, there was sex to be had in every alley every night, but those days have sadly passed.

Besides, I know several people who believe that if peeing isn't involved, it isn't really sex. It's just foreplay.

Fratboy Friday

This morning on the bus ride into the Loop, I sat next to a man who HAS to be a porn star.

And if, for some odd reason, he isn't a porn star...

...I mean, it could be that he ALWAYS dresses the way he was dressed this morning - - like he had just stepped out of a Tom of Finland drawing...

...and it could be that he takes steroids not to get the "bitch tits" that he has, but because he really, really loves "testicular atrophy"...

...then he SHOULD be a porn star.

And he is a porn star. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

So, in dedication to him, his massive thighs and his ass that I wanted to eat breakfast off of, here's an IML-themed Fratboy Friday...

BOYS IN CAPS

This weekend, the IML host hotel (the Chicago Hilton) will the set a new Guiness Book World Record for "Most Jockstraps Found Under One Roof."

(Fun Fact: The previous record holder - - me)

****



SAGGERS

All those jockstraps at IML, and yet, ask those boys "Boxers or briefs?"
and each one of them will say "Commando!," I guarantee it.

It's only a 3 day weekend; easy access is key!





****



MOONERS

But fair warning, if your ass is hanging out, it will be spanked.

Or whipped... Or paddled... Or flogged...

Repeatedly, if you walk down the right hall in the hotel...





****




DAMN, I WAS DRUNK LAST NIGHT

And speaking of what will be happening in the halls of the Chicago Hilton this weekend,
there will be a lot of this. Only the bottle will be replaced by "The Real Thing," leaving the bottle available for... other things. (Yes, that...)

As one of my friends used to say about the 3 days of IML here in Chicago, "Girl, those are High Holy Days!!!" (Insert "high" and "holey" joke here... hehe... "insert"... I can't stop myself...)

Happy Memorial Day Weekend, everyone!

"They're Here..."

Leather men from all over the country and all around the world are streaming into downtown Chicago like... well, like a backroom watersports party after four hours of Beer Bust.

Come on, I had to say it. It's IML!

The Loop hasn't quite been overtaken by the smell of J-Lube, Jungle Juice and jockstraps just yet, but straight people walking down the street beside dozens of bears, Daddys, bootblacks and boys, already have a glazed look in their eyes.

Most of them seem to be thinking "Danger, Will Robinson! Danger, Will Robinson!," but a few are trying to remember the foot-tapping code they read about when Larry Craig was arrested.

And being a Chicagoan during all this makes me feel like "I've Got a Golden Ticket!" A golden E ticket, if you will.

So much to ride... so little time...

"When Betty White Says She Wants a Cup of Coffee..."

Sure, she looks like a sweet, old lady on the outside, but we gay boys know better, now don't we?

And that's why we love Betty White even more.

Whether it was giving a salty one-liner on the game show, Tattletales...

...or when she's talking to Chicago's Dean Richards, reminiscing about the first year-and-a-half of her life spent in Oak Park, Illinois, and smiling while she throws out zinger after zinger...

...or hearing Mary Tyler Moore tell her favorite on-screen memory of Betty, which involves a vibrating bed and Betty's absolute enjoyment of it...

...we know that Betty may look and sound as pure as her wholesome last name, but somewhere deep inside of her, she's bitchy and snarky and wickedly sexual. My kind of gal!

And as much as we gay boys seriously want to sit on Ryan Reynolds' face, we love Betty all the more for ripping him apart and putting him in his proper place.

And his place is on the floor. Crying like a little girl and begging like a dog.

Sandra Bullock & Ryan Reynolds: Behind the Scenes of The Proposal from Betty White

"'Enhanced Interrogation' Is Dick Cheney Changing a Word"

I never thought I'd say this, but - - Jesse Ventura for President!

Check out this video from last Friday's episode of The View.

And check out this HOT picture of Jesse "The Body" Venura as Blain in the 1987 film Predator.

In the video, Mr. Ventura whips Hasselbeck's ass on the subjects of waterboarding and torture.

And just for the record, Mr. Ventura could whip my ass any day of the week. 

Maybe I'm just in a "Thank You, Daddy, May I Have Another?" mood because IML (International Mr. Leather) is this coming weekend, but Jesse Venture, with his pumped up body and his passion to take down those who have done harm to this country, is HOT! 

While you watch this, I think I'm going to watch Predator again...

"So, I Tell ONE Homosexual..."

Here's the Bea Arthur story again, but this time, it's told by my friend, the woman who sang with Bea that fateful Chicago night, Alexandra Billings.

This is my favorite picture of Alex. It's from her performance as Natasha in "Cannibal Cheerleaders On Crack". 

As Alex says about that show...

"My breasts have now been seen by every drunk frat boy from here to Idaho."

For awhile, if you did a Google image search of the words "drunk frat boy," this picture would pop up first.

I really, really loved that.

Even if you know what Bea says at the end, listen to Alex tell the story. She's the funniest person I know.

"I'm Shocked, Shocked to Find That Gambling Is Going on in Here!"

Don Rickles shocked me last night. He really did. 

And you know, after watching a man make a traffic cone disappear with a little Crisco, a perfect squat and a look on his face when he reached the bottom that seemed to say, "Is that all there is?," I didn't think that I could be shocked anymore. And I was wrong.

It wasn't anything that Rickles said. That was all truly brilliant and wildly funny...

Like when the man sitting near the back of the theatre yelled out something like, "You're the greatest, Don!" and Rickles immediately replied, "Sorry about your seats," followed by, "I've got one fan here and he's in the back facing the wall!"

Or when a women with a high pitched voice squealed, "I love you, Don!" and Don said, "Did someone lose a puppet?" Genius. True genius.

No, it wasn't what Rickles said that shocked me, it was what he sang.

Now, I have watched Mr. Warmth: The Don Rickles Project many times, so I knew that Don would sing, "I'm a Nice Guy." I knew he would sing the ballad, "Laughter for Love." And I knew he would do his Jimmy Cagney imitation by singing "Yankee Doodle Dandy."

Don't judge. Remember, this was in a theatre in a casino, folks. In Indiana, for God's sake. But I'm just a redneck who's more Lorna Luft than Lady Gaga anyway, so I loved it!

The song I didn't expect was the song he chose to close the evening - - "I Am What I Am" from La Cage Aux Folles. 

Not only is this song closely identified with coming out of the closet and GLBT rights, it's also arguably the gayest Jerry Herman song ever written. 

Yes, gayer than Hello, Dolly's "Put on Your Sunday Clothes." 

Gayer than Mame's "Bosom Buddies." 

It's THAT friggin' gay!

And Don Rickles sings it at the end of his show. Shocking. I was shocked. So much so that I did a double take to my friend Michael. A big, wacky, sitcom double take. Which, combined with the "What the fuck?!?" look on my face, made the people around me start to snicker. Not that I cared. I was too busy trying to figure out why Don Rickles was singing this uber-queer song?

But, after looking up the phrase "I Am What I Am," I've come to the realization that, even though Jerry Herman stuck a big, rainbow colored flag in those words when he wrote that song for La Cage, we gay people don't really own that particular phrase. So, when Don sings it, it doesn't mean he's gay. It could mean any number of things.

Perhaps Don sang "I Am What I Am" because that phrase is in the Bible. It's a translation of the response God gave when Moses asked for His name.

Or maybe Rickles just really loves the George Jones album, "I Am What I Am." 

The first track on that album is "He Stopped Loving Her Today," and what's not to love about that?!?

Or maybe Don's got a thing for Popeye.  If so, we're back to the gay thing...

But regardless, that song was the last thing I expected to hear coming out of Rickle's mouth last night. 

And other than Don having absolutely no idea what measure he was in or what the tempo was, I loved every second of it.

"Ya Hockey Puck!"

Tonight's the night.

Tonight's the night I get to see Don Rickles live and in person. 

I'm so excited about this, I can't even describe it.

When I've mentioned to people that I'm seeing Rickles tonight, some people have laughed, like it's a joke. 

As if I'm with some friends on a road trip and as we pass through Memphis, we decide to go to Graceland. And we call our friends to tell them what we're going to do and they laugh at our shenanigans. 

People laugh at my excitement about Rickles in the same way. But watch any other celebrity with Rickles - - especially comedians - - and you will see that they are star struck around him.

I'm fascinated by him as well. By his gentle, kind manner off stage and his ruthless destruction of political correctness on stage. 

Plus, what other comedian has had their picture superimposed inside an old issue of Superman's Pal: Jimmy Olsen?  I'll answer that - - none!

Here's Don doing something that I wish I could have done in the 80's - - insulting President Reagan and Nancy at their second inauguration. Notice I said "their," because we all know who was running the show in the White House, don't we?

Don's quick insult to Emmanuel Lewis at the beginning almost makes up for his kind words to Ron and Nancy at the end. Almost.