the only other thing I have to say ...

before signing off, is that we would love to see/read posts from Moneka and Paulie and Alan!

Please enter the 21st Century! Boyer can help, really he can!

And Boyer, if you have Timmy's e-mail, I'll send an invite/shout-out his way, too!

Timmy, Moneka, Alan, Justin, Paulie ... love ya all! Mean it!

Al & Justin, can we post Evan pictures? Or are you trying to protect him from the fame, and all the anguish that comes with it, once someone appears on the Notebook? ... Just look at what happened to ... um ... who?

proud to be ...

OK, fucking Safari having just fucking quit on me, restarting now in Firefox. Fucking programers cannot fucking figure out how to make a fucking blog work after fucking 10 years or whatever of the web revo. Jeez. It ain't rocket science, folks! Fucking retards. This is why we give you gourmet meals at lunch and amazing pay and a fucking boatload of stock options? The new media, yea, fucking right. What a crock of shit.

OK.

Sorry.

Let's return to our regularly scheduled (or not so regularly) blog:

Happy, fucking pride!

I forget what witty shit I wrote before about SF vs. Chicago pride parade, since it's like 11 p.m., which is really late for a middle-aged guy, and I've had most of the bottle of California barbera (why do californians think they can grow just any fucking grape they want, without regard for climate or soil? jeez. well, actually, this one was pretty good. of course, don't know if ya can even buy it around here since it was a taster from work. Preston of Dry Creek; look for it) since Chris doesn't drink that much. So instead ...

Here are a couple fotos; lame, yes, but I only had my camera fone, Chris having said I didn't need to go get the camera and having refused to tell me where it is. Harumph! Alan, you were right 15 years ago!!!!!

Anywho ...



Trannies on wheels ... and who is that spikey do with too much product?




Better. A street scene. People watching. But what is the random float with trannies? Who knows. It's random! (my niece's favorite word).

Pride is about watching a parade go by in the rain (insert "don't let it rain on" cliche; somehow the Trib metro copy editors held themselves back from that. I applaud them; don't know if I could have restrained myself) and realizing later how normal it all is.

When Pride is normal, this is good.

Admit it, You Like Her Too

Ok, I had admit it to myself this week, I love watching her. The way she calmly chides Tim Russert for his probing and conveys a sense of complete control. I may not like the people she works for, but I have to admit, I'm curious if she might not just cut them loose were she to become President.

Lesbians Selling Hill House

Here's a story from the local Potrero Hill blog about the home owned by the nice ladies that joined the 05 Thanksgiving drag games and cocktails. The blog is replete with bitchy comments for the realty company selling their mint green jewel.

http://www.potrerohillsf.com/2006/03/hill-co-potrero-hill-poseurs/

oops! ... again

sorry, quiz and Boyer and Boyer Quiz fans! But I goofed on the link. It is now fixed.

Try again, Gregorio!

Writers with Drinks

Last night, Dean, Barry and I ventured down to the Make-Out Room to check out Writers with Drinks, the Guardian's best literary night two years running (writerswithdrinks.com) . The evening is hosted by Charlie Anders, a transgendered woman full of spit and vinegar. Charlie was the author of one of my alltime favorite Guardian articles, Cross Dress for Less, and was a lot of fun:

http://www.sfbg.com/SFLife/34/31/lead.html

We stayed for an hour before rushing off to our reservations at the fine Blue Plate. The couple of storytellers we heard were wonderful and charming. This type of salon is exactly why we live here. I can't wait to go back so watch the website for future dates and join me soon!

the Boyer you thought you knew ...

here it is, finally! The Boyer Quiz!

Test your knowlege!

Learn the truth!

Laugh your ass off!

It just takes moments ... go here

oops!

ok, about that quiz, "All about Joe": I'm embarrassed to say that I got one of my own answers wrong when I set up the test. So people that have taken it might be surprised to find they got No. 7 wrong. Sorry!







I don't seem to be able to access the original file to fix the quiz either.

Oh, well ... and I know that this leaves me completely open to abuse from Boyer!!

BrokeBack Gala . . the "SuperBowl" of the Gays and Gals

enough about you ...

I am shamelessly copying an idea from Chris Br1xt0n's blog, the quiz. And more shamelessly, I'm making the quiz about me just so I can talk (write) about myself!

Take my quiz and learn more about me! ME ME ME


thanks for the idea, Chris!


of course, I think Boyer should be next. If not, I will write one about him that is funnier (read that as "bitchier") than anything he could come up with.

what I've been reading lately ...

from Simon Doonan's "Nasty":

"Don't judge me too harshly: if you're not going to be a trendy, superficial poseur in your twenties, when are you going to do it?"

although our friend Missy says the book only has 2 funny lines, I beg to differ. It's loaded with 'em. If the quote here isn't enough to make you read it, I don't know what will.

Perhaps pick up some lovely Republican screed instead.

Hope for the Chronically Late

The Sundays Styles section of the New York Times says that 10 minutes late is the new on time. Love it.

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/29/fashion/thursdaystyles/29age.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

Design news

Left work early-ish on a mission: We were out of chile powder. Chris needed it right away. So, no problem; walk to Whole Foods @ Huron & State, then hop on the Redline @ Chicago & State, just one stop farther up the line than usual. Be home in plenty o' time.

So, making good time, even hopped a bus to zip me along. Going up Huron, though, what emerges from out of the cold Midwest winter darkness but a shining beacon of a new shop on the corner where nothing was there before: The new Jonathon Adler store!

Now, I knew it was coming, but hadn't really paid attention exactly where. And Paulie & Pamela forgive me, but I had to run in. And as I approach the door, taking in the blues and whites and vivid oranges pouring out in beckoning light, who do I see but Pamela's former main man, Dwight. I knew he had left Stitch, but didn't really know/remember where he landed.

So we chatted and I checked out the store, and Paulie & Pamela forgive me, again, but the shop is hot! But everyone has already seen it but me since you have one out there in SF too.

Bought a little something for Daddy/Simone, but cannot say what it is in case by some off chance he actually monitors the BGN site. Just say that it was a small, ceramic vessel that made me scream like a queen at a Gucci sale and then grab it up right away. Perfect for D/S.

And me? I want a pony.

that's why they call it a milk cafe

from Slate:

Starbucks Economics

Solving the mystery of the elusive "short" cappuccino

By Tim Harford

Here's a little secret that Starbucks doesn't want you to know: They will serve you a better, stronger cappuccino if you want one, and they will charge you less for it. Ask for it in any Starbucks and the barista will comply without batting an eye. The puzzle is to work out why.

The drink in question is the elusive "short cappuccino"—at 8 ounces, a third smaller than the smallest size on the official menu, the "tall."

The short cappuccino has the same amount of espresso as the 12-ounce tall, meaning a bolder coffee taste, and also a better one. The World Barista Championship rules, for example, define a traditional cappuccino as a "five- to six-ounce beverage." This is also the size of cappuccino served by many continental cafés. Within reason, the shorter the cappuccino, the better.

More here, but what Mr. Harford doesn't point out explicitly is that Starbucks is basically making a boatload of money by selling people oceans of milk.

Never give a gun to a duck

thoughts for the new year?

happy happy

since most of y'all (or maybe even all y'all?) are down with Alan & Justin in Laguna, we're sending great big New Years kisses your way.

Chris & I ended the year with a 5k so-called resolution run in Lincoln Park. Jacob, who talked us into it, ran as well. At 6 p.m. start time, the temp hovered at about 40, a mild night for a run by Chicago standards and maybe a portent of the rest of winter? If there's going to be global warming anyway, we may as well get a warmer winter.

Then it was off to Jacob & Chip's for cocktails (vodka-saketinis, which I very un-pc-ly christened a Nagasaki for its devasting effect), sushi and games.

Sorry to miss the bash! Resolution in 2006: Have more fun.

broken

Greg's post deserves a picture to go with. The original Annie Proulx story describes one of the characters as "cave-chested." Didn't quite understand that, myself, but one gets the idea that these two dudes were not modern gay perfection.

Novelist David Leavitt, whom I have admired and consumed since his first collection of stories, "Family Dancing" in 1983, points out (in a deftly written piece that covers much more) that the actors chosen for the film are more handsome/beautiful than the characters described by Proulx. No matter. One can easily understand the need/desire for Ang Lee to make the actors who carry his film at least look stunning.

One cannot easily deny him this. And yes, who among us is not grateful? What, Lee should have cast some geeks? We want the visuals, man!

Still, the power of the story can come through.

Brokeback Mountain

I saw it on Saturday during the big sellout weekend with a group of boys. We all walked out tentatively and talked about the movie a bit over drinks but it needed to seep in. On Sunday, I found I really needed to talk about it as the layers and layers of the film shook me. Later that night I finally cried.

Heath Ledger. Amazing.

Looking forward to seeing it again soon.

over the swamp land & through the woods ...

so, Chris, Jacob and I ran an 8K (5 mile) cross country run last Sunday on a horse farm an hour northwest of Chicago. It was hilly, not San Fran-hilly, but hilly (c'mon, our only hill within running distance is man-made!), slick with snow and cold ... how cold? To paraphrase Ligotti, quoting one of his fav films: "It was 11."

But the cold meant that the swamps and the creek were frozen; that is good. I wasn't looking forward to wading up to my hips in cold water then running several miles ...

Jacob has run the race before and yes, ran without sweatpants. Brrr. But several high school boys ran without shirts.

Happy Holidays...1967 Style

Plastic covered furniture...more than just an Italian stereotype.