June 2009

If you have been trapped in a space capsule / nuclear fallout shelter / open field with no TV, radio, or intranets, then you may have missed that both Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson passed away today. Ms. Fawcett after a long battle with cancer, and Mr. Jackson after going into cardiac arrest. Ed McMahon also passed away yesterday, creepily and horribly completing the “Rule of Three,” which I wish weren’t true, but God damn it, people keep dying in threes! So here, in no particular order and after a very very long day of work (called in at 1 rather than 2 and worked til 11) are some thoughts on the matter.

*I am sorry these people have died. They had families who loved them, and that is something quite sad.

*Farrah is in a better, post-cancer place. No more suffering. Insert your own “Angel” joke here.

*A friend of mine wrote on his Facebook status that “The King of Pop died years ago. Today a sad, sick man died.” And just because I love MJ’s music doesn’t mean I don’t agree with him. I think that’s why people are so fascinated, because a seriously messy and tabloid life has come to an end.

*But was the end REALLY that surprising?!?! He was 50 years old. And in crappy health. His face was melting (sorry, it was) and he was always wearing germ masks, and looking generally gaunt and unwell. One can’t assume a body in that condition will last. It’s so bizarre to think he was scheduled to perform in London in just over two weeks. I wonder what will happen to the millions of tour t-shirts that will never sell. Straight to EBay?

*Final thought. Farrah has totally gotten Mother Teresa’d by MJ. If you don’t understand the following statement, you’re clearly not as insensitive as I am. Years ago (11 I believe) Mother Teresa died and we were all very saddened, that the world had lost a woman who did so much good, so selflessly. But she was old, and it was not a great shocker. The world began to mourn. Then HOURS later, Princess Diana, beautiful, fucked-up and fascinating, died in a horrific and unexpected manner. And the spotlights of the world turned to her and stayed there. Mother Teresa faded to the back pages. Which is probably how she would have wanted it anyway, but do you see what I mean? Farrah Fawcett is the new Mother Teresa (another sentence I would never in a million years imagine myself typing). Hopefully, this is good for her family though, because they will be given a lot more space in which to sort themselves out. Not so much MJ’s kids though, and for that I feel awful. Seriously press people. I know it’s fascinating, but those kids are already going to be balls-deep in therapy soon. Let ’em be.


In response to Will.I.Am’s smackdown of Perez Hilton, Josh Duhamel, hot guy and spouse of Will’s bandmate Fergie said the following:

“He goes a little below the belt, and when you poke somebody in the chest enough and when you call them enough names, I think it’s good to get your nose bloody.”

He makes a valid point I think. While PH (and I) have the freedom to write/say what we want, if you really “poke the bear” (to borrow a phrase from my friend) the bear will eventually use his giant paws to smack your face off.


Kodak is offering $5,000 to anyone who can identify and track down the kid whose rose was rebuffed (accidentally….sure) by Megan Fox at the Transformers 2 premiere








Fire up the Flux Capacitor Doc! I gotta get to the Clocktower!

transformersposter__oPtTransformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen apparently made something like 55 Million dollars on its FIRST DAY alone. Of course $17 of that was mine, courtesy of a midnight IMAX screening in Times Square (for which I had to literally que around an entire NYC block). And I’ll see it again. I am a very popular movie-going companion. But I’m sad to say, while it does have lots of fun little dork-outs moments for the faithful (The Matrix of leadership! Devastator! Soundwave!! Eeeeek!) it has none of the heart or ingenuity of the original. Every Michael Bay garbage summer movie trick is stuffed into a jumbled “plot” before a solid 40 minutes of action leads to a “See you for the next movie” ending. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the robots and the tech stuff. The real love story though, is Sam and Bumblebee. I honestly got a little choked up whenever Sam got in trouble and Bumblebee came to his rescue. So emotional. Why can’t I have a car as loving and wonderful as Bee? Come to think of it, why can’t I have a car?

Apparently during a dust-up in Toronto, Perez Hilton (the bloggy guy who makes tons of money while I make none) got his large teefs slapped outta his face by Will.I.Am (or his manager) of the Black Eyed Peas. Damn. Is it because PH didn’t like “Boom Boom Pow”? (I love Boom Boom Pow, don’t hurt me!) Or is it because PH called him “a fucking faggot”?

Wait…PH is gay himself…..and a big advocate of gay rights…..

Now, obviously I wasn’t there (because if I had traveled somewhere, you would have heard about it) but if the tables had been turned and Will.I.Am had called PH that, it would be UP IN ARMS and Will.I.Am (let’s call him Will, that’s such a bitch of a name to type) would be the new Isaiah Washington and get in tons of trouble. I really don’t understand PH, you said you hate that word! I wonder how this will reflect on the future of his blog? Probably not much, but I bet he’ll lose a bit of support from the GLAAD community.

On that note, I was running late to work yesterday and this tiny adorable girl with a clipboard said “I need to stop you to talk about Gay Rights” but I was running so late that I just had to blow by her and holler back “I LOVE GAY RIGHTS! I support them 100% I am late for work!”

Just doing my part. Some call me a civil rights leader.


UPDATE: PH has just issued the following apology, and I believe it is sincere and heartfelt. However, I also believe that my co-worker was just borrowing money from the drawer, so what the hell do I know?

“People make mistakes. I have made many in my life, but this past week I have made more than I can count on one hand.

I am sorry. And I mean it. No one is forcing me to write this. I am not feeling pressured to say this. I am speaking out because I realize that the last few days have been more hurtful to me – and many others – than the repeated blows I suffered to my head in Toronto this past weekend.

I have been filled with incredible sadness and regret.

I am sorry that any good work I have done for promoting equality may be tainted by me reclaiming a hurtful word – that’s been personally used against me and the gay community – to hurt someone that was verbally attacking me. It was stupid.

Apologizing for me is not easy. Writing this was not easy. Life is not easy. But everything happens for a reason and I will take away a lot of valuable lessons from this experience.

Violence is never the answer. Never.

Victims should not be mocked.

The “F” word will never be uttered from my lips again. Just as others use the “N” word to insult and hurt – or as part of their everyday speech – I challenge them to remove it from their vocabulary as well.

Hindsight is always 20/20, they say. I should have been the bigger man and walked away from an unfortunate situation. Instead, I chose – in a very misguided way – to stand up for myself and only made things worse by how I – under pressure, anger and extreme emotion – handled the situation.

I am sorry.

I am NOT apologizing to GLAAD. I could care less about them, my former employers.

I am apologizing to the gay community, to anyone who was hurt by my choice of words, and to all the people who have ever emailed me to thank me for all that I have done to fight for gay rights over the last few years.

I have reached out to Isaiah Washington, someone I incorrectly labeled a homophobe in the past, despite his own public statements that he was not.

I will be donating any money collected from my lawsuit against Polo Molina, road manager for the Black Eyed Peas, to the Matthew Shepard Foundation.

And I will continue to speak out for equality and support the great work done by LGBT organizations, such as LAMBDA Legal and HRC.



Following in the footsteps of the great Mr. T (or “Saint T” as this fucking awesome stained glass representation depicts), I have begun to pity fools












And the fool I pity the most? Robert Pattinson.












Why pity someone who is good looking and has bazillions of dollars? I’ll tell you why. Because:

1.) The Twilight movies are not so in the goodness.

2.) The Twilight fans (not all, but at least the ones here in NYC) are madpants, batshit crazy and have been stalking this guy while he’s trying to film another, real movie! (Good luck with that. I bet they do vampire re-shoots after a test audience riots in the movie theatre). I have seen tons of photos of Hot Topic bedecked girls throwing his head (watch the hair! The hair, dammit!) into a headlock and trying to snap photos for their Facebooks (“OMG me n’ my future BF! LOL!”). It’s just painfully clear that there is no regard for his personal space or safety. Apparently some overzealous ones accidentally jostled him…in front of a speeding cab!

He’s got money and can probably pick and choose projects as he pleases now, but I wonder if there’s a large part of him that would sell his (immortal, vampire) soul to get a little bit of his privacy back.

Checking my emails and nonsense before my 2pm to 11pm shift. I love keeping the hours of a McDonald’s drive-thru window.

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