Tuesday, January 31, 2006

SOTUIBW (State Of The Union In Black and White)

- Oh my God, he's speaking real english

- Shhh, he's trying to court the conservative black voters by mentioning Coretta Scott King...

- Totally got drunk when he was all about"Liberating the minorities of Iraq" (but not the LGBT in the USA)

- Tom Woodruff is a total babe. Fuck you Cooper (and not in the way that you have paid me, SNAP).

- Sill don't trust Bush, something about him being all stupid and shit...

I'll give you a hint...

- It's the name of Paris Hilton's first single...(or what W is gonna do to us) Oh god he just mentioned Coretta...WINE PLEASE!!!

Daddy's getting drunk...

- Well tonight is the night. The State of the MUTHA FUCKIN Union!!!!! Holla back Condi, Put your walking cane in the air Chaney. I know Smith Point is gonna be a clusterfuck of messy Junior leaguers and their mutually masturbating trustfund boy-toys. So since I am not allowed within 50 feet of the Bush twins, I will be spending the evening in, remote in one hand, jug-o-wine in the other. The State of the Union Drinking Game is a DC tradition. In the past, my record stands at 2 jugs-o-wine by the end of the speech. HOT! So because I love you readers soooo much, I will share my game with you.

Purchase 2 jugs-o-wine (or any booze you like, but must be able to be swigged or taken as shot)

Take one swig (or take one shot) when Retardo...
Loses his place in the speech,
pauses for forced applause,
mispronounces a word in the English language,
mispronounces a foreign country or Head of State,
does the "Bush" chortle,
mentions Alito, Roberts or Tranny Truck (Miers),
mentions terrorism,
hints at terrorism,
mispronounces terrorism,
mentions bi-partisanism,
mentions Texas,
mentions the drunktastic tag-team (Babs and Jenna),
pretends to care about Coretta Scott King,
mentions Roe v. Wade,
or whenever you get a lil thirsty.

The speech starts at 9, I am guessing, if I follow these simple rules, I will be drunk by 9:05.

God Bless America AND NO ONE ELSE!!!!! (especially the gays)

Oh Lord Jesus Lord Jesus Jesus...

- Sunday night, Mr. Big calls me and wants to know if I would like to accompany him to Wheaton, MD to go see his new puppy and meet the puppy's breeder. He did warn me however, that the breeder was a lil "Special". Now "special" is the way that my mother used to describe our crazy aunt so from the age of 5 I have always thought special=fucking nutzo. So being the good quasi date I was waiting outside of the apartment when he swung by to get me. As soon as I jumped in his car, he reiterated, "This breeder lady is a little out there". I was like, "Oh Wheaton, MD? It's not that far". I guess I didn't grasp his intent. We drive to the breeder and pull out front of this non-descript condo in one of those cookie cutter suburban neighborhoods. Well the dogs heard us coming because all hell broke loose. We were on one side of the thick wood door and they were on the other. But they kept clawing at the door, snarling, and growling. I was like "Shit bitch, I am totes gonna get attacked by some rabid fucking dog. We hear this loud, "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR!!!" Umm yes chil'ren, that was the breeder. She opens the door and told the two shocked fags that greeted her that she was talking to us. Great, not only am gonna be shredded by some fucking mongrels but also I just got CBAC'd (cussed by a crazy).

She leads us into her "home", and THERE..IS...NO...FURNITURE. All that she had were doggy crates, doggy gates, and plush toys all over the place. I do believe that she sleeps in one of those crates because all were the same small size except for one that I kid you not, was the perfect size for a crazy white woman. So she tells us to meet her in the living room which we had a hard time finding because of the lack of furniture, I think I ended up in the dining room, Mr. Big in the breakfast nook. She screams at us from the "real" living room and we follow her voice over piss stained carpets and come upon one of the most disturbing/oddly cute sights I have ever seen. In the room, there was a baby pen set up in the middle of the floor, 5 little puppies barking and romping around, and a grown ass white woman laying on back with a chew toy on her stomach all up in the middle of this mess. OH LORD JESUS LORD JESUS JESUS!!!! She motions for us to come join her and play with the puppies. As apprehensive as I was, my gay ass dove on in. I was like, "Bitch, move over, give me that chew toy, puppies gonna play with me now". Mr. Big looked at me like he had accidently brought my retarded twin brother along with him. After a few minutes of convincing, he joined us in the pen. So here we were, Two gay men, five terrier puppies, and one crazy lady, in a baby pen, in Wheaton. God forbid someone looked in the window.

So after an hour of so of playtime with the dogs and more uncomfortableness courtesy of crazy lady that put a chewtoy in her mouth, we get out and are seated Indian style on the floor so the breeder lady could quiz Mr. Big on basic doggy care. He totally lied his ass off. She basically won't sell a dog to anyone that works over 30 hours a week, Mr. Big works like 50. He was all like "Oh I work from home", he's really gonna send the pup to doggy daycare. So she starts talking about training the puppy which Big is totally gonna leave to the people at the daycare. She tells us that these terriers love them some cream cheese. She is all like, "put cream cheese on your finger to make the dog come, put cream cheese on your lips and let the doggy kiss you". I am wondering how many times the Philly has found it's way south of this lady's belly button.

So she offers us a beer, clearly a ploy to make us stay, we being the first human contact she has had in prolly 3 years. I have one, she tells me to drink it quick so she can give me another. I am like "Oh no crazy bitch, I am sooo not getting drunk and even more uncomfortable in this nut house". I politely decline, stating I have an early morning. So all the training and grooming instructions were given and she started on food. Of course she reiterated the canine's love of the cream cheese, but she then went on to tell us that the dogs are allergic to corn. I am like what bitch, dogs eat poop like it's pudding, how can they be allergic to corn. She then turns to Mr. Big and asks him if he is "Latino". He said he is part Spanish, she said, "Well I know how your people like corn, but don't give any of my dogs and taco shells or anything, IT COULD KILL THEM". I shat my khakis. Mr. Big forced a smile, he just wanted his puppy.

So after the food speech, she ends our visit with a talk on puppy names. Big was thinking about something cute and puppy-ish. She was like "NO, the dogs name is"...and she rattles off some 20 part name that is it's official show name. Big was like "whatev's hoe, I am gonna call it what I want". So after all this craziness had taken place, we find out that we can't take the pup home yet, we have to go back on Thursday. Apparently she just wanted to hang out with us. FUCKING A. So not only was I disturbed beyond all expectations, my ass had to go back to her crazy condo-o-dogs later this week to get the pup. I am totally mainlining heroin before I step foot in that place again. I would rather have a drug dependency than listen to that lady alluding to her sexual escapades with animals anyday.

- On another note, 3 weeks until I get to shoot a fucking gun in my forensic evidenciary procedure class!!!!

Saturday, January 28, 2006

It's that time again...Time to haterate the classamates.

- Yes, a new semester is upon us, and that means two things, time to throw-up in class because you are still drunk from the night before and time to pass judgment on my classmates based soley on their looks and demeaners!!! YAY!!!

- STUPID SORORITY GIRL- Yes, it's great that you get gang banged on a nightly basis by the Beta brothers, what is not great are those bright magenta stretch velour sweatpants you have been trying to pull off. They are way too small for you honey, and camel toes are not required on the syllabus, so why are you bringing them to class. Hoe, you are a college student, not a highlighter. You make me want to shoot your ass out of a flare gun with those blinding pants. Oh and the "JUICY" logo printed all over your ass is tres classy. I hope a baboon tries to butt rape you.

- KID WHO WEARS NOTHING BUT MARYLAND LOGO CLOTHES- Jesus fucking Christ, lemme guess, you are a freshman, or better yet, a transfer student. You are totes in love with our great University and want the world to know. That's great and all but I think that you have coordinated your outfit a tiddle bit too much. Terps sweats, Terps windbreaker, Terps hat, Terps bookbag, Terps SCARF??!!??? It's like the fucking campus gift shop sprouted legs, a shitty complexion and decided to take classes. Please get yourself to the nearest J. Crew. I only pray to God that you try to ride the metro in that get-up, I give you two stops before you get dragged off the train and curb-smiled by the locals.

- BASKETBALL STAR- Jesus fucking Christ you are a tall mutha fuckah. Now I thought I was tall but when you come to class and have to duck when you come in the door, it's time to take the whole "giant" deal down a notch. Did your father (which you probably never met) use steroids instead of lube when he impregnated the giant spaceage robot you call mom? From now on please sit in the back of class, that swoll melon you call a head effectively blocks 90% of the blackboard. We are here to get an education knot to look at the back of your batcave of a head.

- TEXT MESSAGE KID- WOW, you have a cell phone, WOW you have friends, WOW you are too cool for school you have to constantly text message your little testicle cupping circle jerking group of friends every 5 seconds to check in with them? You are sooo well versed in text messaging that you don't even have to look at your phone while sending a message, which I am sure gets you hella lots of ass. Newsflash Johhny Number 5, you are disturbing EVERYONE in class with your lightning skills on the phone touchpad. And what is better? Your down syndrome ass giggles after every message that your "crew" sends you. Unless it's an emergency, please put the phone away and pay attention. I will not be tutoring another retarded classmate this semester because they couldn't remove their phone from their lives for 50 minutes and pay attention. Do everyone a favor, blindfold yourself, run into traffic, and stay there until someone hits you.

- YARMULKE GUY- So you are one of the chosen people? Then why does your God-cap have NY METS #1 written in puffy paint on it. Totes not cool. I don't think our collective higher power would appreciate you using your yarmulke as a fucking billboard for a sports team. Do you have other ones with other artistic slogans on them? I want you to wear one that says, "Hell, That's Hot", or "I am a retard". Please don't EVER reproduce.

- SASSY BIG BLACK GURL- I am sooo in love with you. From your barely there baby tee, to those parasucos that must be painted on. You are my new lover. I loved on the first day of class when you squeezed into the little desk and your shirt went up and your pants went down to reveal the finest butt crack that God had ever made. You didn't even have any panties on, cause that's how you roll, which is AWESOME. What's more is that you listen to your ipod really loudly during class (hello, I loves me some Mary J too) , and you don't even try to hide it! Sometimes you sing along while the T.A tries to explain really complex formulaic theories, which is what queens like yourself do, cause you own the class. You dare that mutha fuckin graduate student teaching assistant to step to you. You would totally snap her neck and then steal her shoes. LOVING YOU!!! Your hair has changed 2 times and we have only had 2 classes. The first day, you had like no hair, and the second day you looked like Victoria Gotti. When we all had to introduce ourselves on the first day of class and your interesting fact was that you want to be a lawyer for rappers, I knew you would be my baby's momma. Please can we grab a coffee and gossip about boys and clothes???

Friday, January 27, 2006

Last night's date was brought to you by Patron tequila

- I am NOT dating Jack Abramhoff, as much as I love me some Jewish men, he has a son and wifey.
- So last night was date night, and date night it was. I felt so Mr. Cinderella being picked up from my apartment in his luxury automobile, being wisked away to ZENGO (not Indebleu like I had thought), eating amazing sushi, drinking (5) Patron filled margaritas. All In all it was one of my top 3 best "first" dates. We had dinner at this new place called Zengo in Chinatown. It's a really cool space and the food is totes delish. It's a very "Hill" place packed with politicians, staffers, lobbyists and their 23 year old dates. We had made reservations but our table wasn't ready so we waited at the bar for about 10 minutes. In those 10 minutes we had like 60 people coming up to us, offering support to my date and chatting to me about my law school plans. Apparently word had spread fast that Mr. Big was seeing a younger man. Everyone was really nice to us and it kind of struck me as weird until I realize "Oh yeah these people probably took money from my date at some point in their lives". So our table is ready and we head upstairs. He had called ahead and requested "his" table which is this amazing corner booth with a view of the pretty (and not so pretty) people. I really could not understand the menu so Mr. Big ordered me a drink that he said I would love. Oh boy did I, it was a patron margarita. I also did not understand the menu (methinks it was the 3 margaritas that had me confused in the whole "basic reading" department). He said he would order for "us". How sweet cause there was no way in hell I could afford anything on the menu. We had the ceviche sampler, wonton tacos, and tasted all the sushi. Afterwards we debated going to Halo or Cobalt but opted to going back to his place and watching tivo'd TRUE LIFE: My parents are homos. It was great, I totally want to have kids now, but good looking ones, not that drum major chick that was a handbag of craziness. Her one mom looked like Roger Ebert, scaaaary. So we fall asleep on the couch together, no hanky panky. I wake up this morning to coffee and a bagel that he ran out to get for me. All in all it was an amazing time had by all. My plans for the weekend include going to Cady's Alley to help pick out stuff for his new house. I am such a good gay. Where is my fucking tiara?

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Date night...

- Well it's Thursday, so you know what that means, undescended testicle night at Apex or Date Night. I am opting for the latter. My fine gentleman escort tonight was best described as my drunken roommate as "Shiit, he's like Mr. Big and you are SJP". Yes readers, I am going on a date tonight with a wealthy, older gentleman. Not in a hooker way, but it's fun being able to go out to really swank restaurants without paying. He is the one I mentioned in a previous post about possibly being under investigation for bribing politicians. If he gets indicted I am TOTALLY gonna be the "young male friend" that sits in the courtroom in an inappropriate outfit while posing for the cameras. Wish me luck beyotches. Apparently we have reservations at Indeblue, never been there, supposed to be good though...yuuuurm.

- Also, I am watching the "Today Show" and goddamn it, why does my lover, Katie Couric have to show fucking pictures of her colonostipy (or butt camera operation) EVERY FUCKING DAY. Katie baby, please stick to showing of your dangerous gams and talking about how fucking retarded/adorable your children are.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

OHHH Bitch done got herself a gun!!!

- Happy humpday bitches, I hope you are spending it like me, watching "Project Runway"...ohhhh gurl Zulema's gonna get it. But anyway, today was a day of firsts for me...

- First day of classes for what is hopefully my last semster at the drippy axe-wound known as University of Maryland. So I am actually taking ONE fun class this semster...THE LEGALITY OF FORENSIC EVIDENCE!!!! Yes bitches, I will be playing CSI for academic credit. The best part however was when my professor (who was an expert witness for the OJ trial) informed the class that WE WILL BE SHOOTING GUNS AS AN ASSIGNMENT!!!! ( We have to learn something about which guns are illegal or some junk.) The whole class deeply inhaled and of course, me being little Tammy Tourettes yelled out "That's Hot". The professor laughed and told the class that they should all share my enthusiasm. I am hoping to get a grenade launcher or perhaps a nice semi-automatic glock (with mother of pearl grip of course). On the day that we go to the shooting range I am soooo wearing a denim catsuit and an afro in honor of Miss Pam "I shoot the dicks off of white pimps" Grier. A++++++++

- Another first - I saw....a man...on the metro...vomit...into his CVS bag...and proceed to put this little parcel...under his seat. Momma thinks he was a tiddle bit drunk. All you green line commuters are in for a treat in the morning, cause you know metro don't clean their shit.

- My last first of the day...This is the first semester where I am (A) taking a class with someone I haven't hooked up with and (B) taking a class with no hot mens. I think this will be a very productive but hump-less semester.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

My dream come true

- So all my friends know that it is my ultimate dream to become a successful lawyer, marry Jonathan Taylor Thomas and adopt twin Korean girls and name them Cha Cha and Kiki. Well here is a little preview of my future daughters...on speed...singing karaoke...and playing an imaginary piano.


Cornelius is soooooo gay...

- How gay is he??? He got caught cheating on his liquor store with a deli.

Quick back story, I live in the Foggy Bottom area of our Nation's Crapital and my regular liquor store is in the basement of the Watergate building. Now this store has fuckloads of $800 wines that I can no way afford, but me being the congenial/constantly drunk man I am, I made friends with the super nice Korean couple that owns the joint and they started ordering anything they thought I would like, including crazy foreign vodkas and other treats for my face. We know each other so well, I actually get Christmas presents and b-day presents from them, which I guess is normal...or not. So about 6 months ago I discovered there is a deli/liquor store RIGHT ON THE NEXT BLOCK FROM MY APARTMENT!!! DC being a fucking mormon controlled city (don't pretend you didn't know), no liquor stores are supposed to sell hooch on Sundays. Well the deli gives Mayor Tony a big "FUCK YOU" and sells shit everyday. This truly makes my heart happy. I started going to the deli because it's close to me and my booze usually runs out on Saturday night and daddy needs his bloody mary on Sunday mornings or he will hurt small children living in his building. Last night I went into the Watergate liquorstore and the lady was not too pleased with me. After picking up my $7 jug of wine, I bring it to the front to be rung-up. This lady, that had loved me a week ago, proceeds to tell me that she knows that I have been taking my booze related business elsewhere. How does she know this?? She goes to fucking church with the nice Korean couple that owns the deli. She saw me stumble into the deli one night when she was coming over to visit her church friends and gurl was not happy. She then tells me all these really nasty things about the deli people to try to persuade me to come back into her Stoli filled arms. Can the children say "uncomfortable?" I paid for my wine and was on my way. When I got home, I told my roommate and she said that the deli couple had been talking to her about "bad" things that the watergate couple do. Holy fucking shit, what is going on? All I know is that from now on, I will buy 1 jug-o-wine at the deli and immediately run to the watergate to purchase another one to satiate the liquor store gods. I am so scared they are gonna kick each other's ass if they spot me "cheating" on them. God forbid they ban my ass, i'll have to start having my shit delivered by Pan-Mar liquor again.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Next stop...LOEHMANNS!!!!!!!

So I just found these pics from NYE in NYC. Funny thing is...I am sober in these pics! It just goes to reiterate the point that when you hang out with Sarah, you don't need any booze to have fun. This was truly one of the most amazing weekends of my life, one of those weekends that make you realize how great life is. From dancing in the car to Chaka Khan, to beating down 16 year old Long Island girls at the mall, that weekend was one of my top 5. My friend Sarah and her family are absolutely amazing (and gorgeous!!). If you have never been to Queens, I highly recommend a lil day trip there, make sure you stop by Lake Success!!!! (inside joke)

Smelling females on the Long Island Railroad...

Yeah, I am in a gang, a gang of lovers...

The lady that made the entire weekend possible, my AA (Awesomeness Anonymous) sponsor Princess Sarah...

- NEXT POSTING: I might be dating someone, someone currently being investigated by The Washington Post for "bribing" politicians...HUZZAH LOVE LIFE!

Friday, January 20, 2006

J'adore "The Dreamers"

- Ok so a lot of people don't know this, but behind these bedroom blues, lies a brain. A brain that is fucking nuts for French cinema. It all started with this movie called "Wild Reeds", which to this day remains my favorite film of all time. Even if you don't parle francais, it is the type of film that you can happily get lost in. Well tonight, while in a lovely buzzed moment, I come upon "The Dreamers" a film by Bertolucci (who also directed one of my other faves, "Stealing Beauty"). It is a story of French twins, one boy, one girl and the American that they take into their salon and eventually into their bed. This film is gorgeous. Even though it takes place in 1969 France, it can be translated into all of our lives. Queer, straight, black, white, rich, poor. It is an amazing film that takes me back to a sepia colored past where all I did was smoke, drink, fuck and discuss politics. YOU MUST SEE THIS FILM.

You must listen to "Age of Consent" by NEW ORDER while reading this.

- So I went with my parents and younger brother tonight back to Matchbox (second time this week). This place is amazing beyond words, and now my parents are all like "Honey, this can be our place", and "I feel so urban". They even remembered the doorgirl's name (which got us a great booth upstairs). As I was eating dinner something occurred to me. I really love my family. I know that this may sound cheesy, but some of the kids that I mentor have never known their fathers or known a mother that wasn't working 3 jobs to send them to a safe school. I guess this all really struck me when I ran into a guy I was pretty hot and heavy with a year ago. Ya see, if this meeting would have taken place a few years ago, I would have been totally scared out of my mind. A few years ago I was in a really bad place. I had just come out to my parents and had just moved to the city. I moved here with my parent's cash but not their blessing. They were worried about me, the all night parties, the lies, the mood swings. Originally, my purpose on moving to the city was to fuck as many guys as possible and get as fucked up as possible. Now that I lived by myself my mom's secretary wouldn't be calling my friend's places seeing if I was alive, my father wouldn't tip off the police to which car I was driving. I could be an "adult". But what I realized tonight was that I wasn't happy, I wasn't fucking sane. As cliched as it sounds, I found happiness tonight. My former flame was on a date and spotted my mother and I as we waited to use the restrooms. He came up and gave me this huge hug. This hug said so many things. The embrace moved from around the shoulders to the small of my back. It was an embrace of two men that had slept together, had brunch together, rented movies together, walked his dog together, had shared a part of their lives together. My mother was soaking in the whole thing. Here is her son, hugging a man, in public. When I realized that that my mother was watching, I quickly turned around. I didn't think twice and introduced her to XXXX. She said she was glad to finally meet him and told him how I talked about him and all this other embarrassing shit. Well, 20 minutes into my mother's conversation with the man I used to fuck, I told her that dad was probably getting antsy and sexually harassing a waitress so we should scoot upstairs. What does the saucy bitch do? SHE INVITES HIM UPSTAIRS TO MEET MY FATHER AND BROTHER! So as we climb the 2 flights of stairs up to the family, one thought crowds my brain, "I think my mom wants to see my ex naked". She managed to touch his bicept (for stability on those confusing stairs she says) no less than 5 times. At the landing I looked back and my mother and XXXX had stopped at his date's table to say hi and tell him that they would be back down. WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON??? So we finally make it to our booth and my mother, not I, introduces XXXX to my father and brother. They make small talk about the legal world for a few minutes and as I look at my mom, she looks at XXXX, he looks at me, my brother looks at his empty drink, and my father looks at my mom. It was amazing. He said his goodbyes to my fam and I went to walk him back down to his table. I had to physically force my mother into her seat because she wanted to walk down with us. So as I walk him down, he pulls me close and tells me I have such a great family and that he is in love with my mom. I met his look of sincerity with my look of pride. As we were approaching the bottom of the stairs, he asked me if I still had his number, I mouthed "Of course". I escort him to his table and make my ascent back upstairs. As I peek over the back of the booth I can see my mother's smile. It's a smile full of pride. She is proud of her gay son (and impressed he used to date such a stud as she later put it). I realized that night why I moved to the city. It wasn't to find as many hot guys as possible. It wasn't to find all the "right" parties. It was to find me. Well readers, I did find me. I found me in my mother's giggle, my brothers raunchy gay jokes and my father's conversation about real estate with the man I used to date. And I am happy. And of course, the dinner was amazing!

Thursday, January 19, 2006


- So just sitting here, watching the news and the leading story is about a stabbing at CLUB CHAOS!!! AWWW SHIT!!! I knew this was gonna happen one day. That place is packed to the gills with fierceness. Apparently two "men" got in an argument on the dance floor and one man stabbed the other in the stomach. Isn't that nuts? I am waiting for the 5 o'clock news where they will go into more detail and perhaps (please baby Jesus) an eyewitness interview with some FIERCE trannies! I could see it going something like this...

REPORTER: So where were you when this stabbing took place?
KIKI TRANNYTRAP: I had just finished my Whitney routine and was doing bumps with Juan in the bathroom when I heard this commotion.
REPORTER: And what did you do?
KIKI: Well, first I took the spoon out of my nose and Juan's penga out of my mouth. Then, with heels in hand, ran to the dancefloor and regulated.
REPORTER: What do you mean by "regulate"?
KIKI: Well I vogued, snapped, and had a walk-off with the crime scene investigator.
REPORTER: Do you think this was a hate crime?
KIKI: No, cause if it was a hate crime, he would have stabbed Taffeta Jackson, cause that bitch looks like Seabuscuit, and she got fake titties. Lots of ho's hate that bitch, that's who should have been stabbed. Plus she stole my hormone shots.

Link to real story here: http://www.nbc4.com/news/6237173/detail.html

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Few things my chil'ren

- Watching American Idol, umm Jesus fucking christ, this show has gotten sad...these poor delusional kids. Actually the one from tonight's episode named "Flawless" (the one with the matching couture) reminds me of the son of the lady that cleans my parents house...I always had a lil white trash crush on him, wearing short shorts while he mows the lawn, dripping icecubes on my pre-pubescent nipples as he scrubs windows with the last glimmer of methadone in his eyes...

- I HAVE NO MIXERS!!!! Normally I don't have any booze, but this past weekend when I woke up all drunk and dehydrated, I chugged my bottle of tonic water. Now I am currently drinking Stoli and iced herbal tea.

- JESUS + Disco = MIss Christy. I saw this online and it reminded me of one person, My bff Christy...so click on the link (it's safe for work) and see what sent me into spasms tonight for like 2 hours...

LINK: http://blogfiles.wfmu.org/KF/0512/jesus.mov

New Year, New Me, New Apartment Gayness

- So in honor of cleansing all my dirty sinfull acts of the past year, I did like most gay WASPS did, REDECORATED BITCHES!!!!!. I love my apartment, not too big, not too small, within walking distance Ralph Lauren and 7 liquor stores, It suits me just fine. So I channeled the hot and sexy Nate Berkus, repainted, got some new furniture, and because I am a fag, NEW VOTIVE CANDLE HOLDERS!!!! So below are some before (crazy blue color) and after (soothing beige) pics of my little pied a terre here in our Nation's Crapatal. My next project is mounting (no pun intended) an Elkhorn Fern to the wall over my tiny, sin-filled bed. I watch way too much Martha Stewart...

What used to give me a headache everytime I woke up...

My new Ashram Yoga Sanctuary...

- not bad for someone that manages to mix 300 count sheets with end tables found on the street!

Cornelius Stewart

Monday, January 16, 2006

"Does this mean I have to got through tard class again??"

- Lo siento about the last post. The real heading should be "How to Make Cornelius Stay in DC". I apologize for any tricks shaking in their Ugg boots on 17th street at the "cyber cafe"reading this thinking that I am 100% moving. Make me stay bitches, make me stay. (Just kidding I am totes moving to NYC)

How to love a guy in 6 months...

- So I was out to din din with the parents tonight at the amazing Matchbox (www.matchboxdc.com) and the questions just kept piling up...bitches wanted to know who I was dating, did I "fancy" anyone (as my mother so elegantly put it after her third martini), why have my past relationships all gone down the crapper????
So I told them I had been on a few dates, but I did not go into the hell that was my last date (the one before the Texan, which is a whole hell of another story). I told them that I was just really involved with my volunteer work and school and working out. Umm bitches wanted their grandbabies right then and there. They literally expected a grandchild to be brought out with their order of crabcakes. So anyway I digress, I decided that I would challenge myself.
I am only living in this city for 6 more months, then moving to NYC, so why not have 6 relationships, with expiration dates on none but the main emphasis should be placed not only on the relationship, but the "life lesson" (as my crazy sequin sweater wearing aunt puts it) that each pseudo-relationship contains. I chose a month for each relationship because in the past, that how long the majority of the "meat" of relationships that I have been in last. I want to pick people's brains, I want to find the real reason why people want to date (or not date) me. I want to have amazing sex, and an even more amazing time watching movies with them. I am SO gay.
OK, so here is the deal, I will push all superficial prejudices out of my crazy brain-piece and go on a date with the next guy that asks me. Now I will play the part of responsible, non emotionally retarded boyfriend/date, and he will teach me a lesson, just like on Full House (he will be the Uncle Jesse to my Kimmy Gibler). So here are the stats...6 foot 2 inches (height, not dick size), 195 pounds, 34 inch waist, blue eyes, brown hair, Indian roommate, preference for dog owners, total BBC freak. Who wants to date a Corneliusanaire????

- On another note, my bgf (best gay friend) Frank the spank just bought an apartment. I am immensely proud of him, he has no idea. I am totally gonna start filming my homeless person porn at his new place. That is why...I am geisha.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Naked Neighbor...

- Sitting here, watching MADE on MTV, casually glancing out of the window and what testicle stomping visage greets me???? My 300 pound neighbor, naked, cleaning his kitchen, with his blinds up. It's like the bastard child of Louie Anderson and a Merry-Maid moved in across the street. Now this isn't the first time that he has chosen to do a lil cleaning sans clothing, but Jesus man, you's gonna get some Soft Scrub on your tallywhacker...not pretty folks.

Friday, January 13, 2006

Save a horse...

- Well I guess you know the rest. If you read my previous post, you know how miffed I was after my last date. Well thanks to my muse Miss Christy, I have been inspired to go on another date (not with the douchebag from last night). So I call up this authentic Texan that I knew and that had asked me out for a date a while ago. Now a little backstory on Texas, the state, not my date. My uncle lived there for a while during University and was killed in 1995 by a drunk driver. Bush is from there, do I really need to say more? But on the upside, it is the birthplace of big hair and texas hold-em, and this really sexy man that I will be seeing this evening. All I really know about Texas is that it's what I fly over when I am heading to Cancun. Pray for me children, with all your little souls. If tonight goes into the crapper, I an chopping my wang off and moving to a nunnery.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Dear Jesus, Am I really a drunken man-slut?

- Well fuck me in my face...I had a great date last night. Dinner at Larioul Plaza, beers at JR's then some "Little Britain" watching back at my place with my escort for the evening. Not to get graphic but things happened, actually things happened for a few hours, until 4am this morning. It didn't feel rushed, It didn't feel wrong, It felt appropriate...umm if you are a slut apparently. So anyway, I go to class still drunk, manage to get a fucking A on my test and ride the metro home all in anticipation of an email from the previous night's consort telling me what a great evening he had ect. Well what does my inbox hold for me? THIS...

"I had fun last night too. But I do feel really guilty about letting things progress to the point they did. That's what happens when you feed me too many drinks! Remember when I said that I was at the point of no return, stop now or go wild? :)

So I want to be up front and say that I'm not really looking for any kind of relationship right now. I'm really just looking to meet people and have fun - which I think we did. :) "

JESUS FUCKING CHRISTMAS!!! What the hell happened? Umm am I a slut now? Are "fun times" expected when one goes on a date with Cornelius? Apparently so. So where does this email leave me? I have just broken up with the man I will probably marry, I was a little too "easy" on a first date and I am here, in my apartment, alone, listening to Angie Stone on repeat, drinking lukewarm blush Chablis from the Korean deli. This is my life. The Ole Cornelius needs him some dating lessons with emphasis on the following topics...

- how NOT to be a slut on the first date
- how NOT to call date's car a "lesbian-mobile" just because it's a Suburu
- how NOT to mention how big your ex's dick is
- how NOT to tell him your parents want you to pop out kids as soon as you finish law school
- how NOT to feed your date $2 beers until he can barely stand
- how NOT to throw a tube of Kiehl's ultra moisturizing hand salve at him and tell him to "grease up"
- how NOT to make sweet man love up against your plate glass window that faces a major street.
- how NOT to talk too much
- how NOT to kiss a bartender while on a date
- how NOT to fart and drunkenly announce it to your date
- how NOT to drink a jug of wine before your date so that you are soooo sufficiently buzzed at dinner you insist on ordering in Spanish
- how NOT to have multiple pics of your ex and you making out on your desk when your date comes back to your place

- What the fuck is wrong with people? You go on a date to have fun, to get to know the person. Unfortunately with me "fun" means nastiness and "getting to know me" means nastiness. I am sorry but in the past all of the dates that I haven't hooked up on meant one thing...No second date. Maybe I should wrap my gentle man puppet with razor wire? But the truth is that, in Gaylandia, people hook up on first dates. Maybe I am emotionally retarded and feel that my genitalia makes up for a lack of intelligence. Is it possible for me to go on a date and leave my dick at home? So far no. All of my past relationships that I have been in started with a "bang". Shit, I really liked this guy, I can still see his handprints in my window.

- Alright, I am off to find my passport, which for some reason I threw out of my window last night into the bushes while in the "heat" of this apparently non-moment.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006


- yeah so I decided to change the background on my blog...needless to say i lost the links to all the blogs that I check daily...so apologies to everyone on my list....

Ann Marie

- I will try to remedy this shit asap

Ain't no stopping the Cornelius...

Nothing much going on today...except for my first date in 4 months!!!!! So here's a picture of a handicap doggie, enjoy!!!

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

All tarted up like daddy's little whore...

- Well tomorrow marks my official re-entre into the clusterfuck known as DC's gay dating scene. I have moisturized, exfoliated, given myself a gay ole facial (not that type you sick fucks) and picked up my lucky shirt from the nice lady at the drycleaners, who wished me good luck. I really hope I have a good time, the guy seems very nice, a set-up by a mutual friend. But momma's internal clock is tick tick ticking away, Cornelius wants his Logan Circle condo, scotty dog and Martha Stewart holiday celibrations with our blended families. Wish me luck hoes!

There's no "R" in Alabama....

- So I went to my local bar, McFadden's (total shithole, lot of trash from Gaithersburg there, but one of the bartenders is a mo so I get free beer) and this girl randomly starts hitting on me. I casually brush her off saying I am just here for a drink and to catch up with my friend the bartender. Well, lordy lordy, hoe brings all the hood rats in her posse over to us and starts asking me why I am being rude to her. I tell her that I did not mean to be rude to her but (drunkenly slurred) I was trying to hook up with the bartender. Her eyes light up. She wants some gay dick. She goes on for about an hour on how pussy is better than dick, and how titties = MC (squared). I don't fucking give a shit and I think she can tell. The bitch then asks me where I am from. I tell her the south, southern Maryland. Oh she was not happy. Apparently the Mason-Dixon Line means nothing to her and she tells me that she is from "Alerbamer" with a twang that only can be the result of multiple tequilla shots and generations of inbreeding and hair bleach. I tell her that there is no "R" in Alabama. She tells me to go fuck myself. I tell her to spell "Alabama". A-L-A-B-E-M-A. I thanked the bartender for my beer, and quickly stumbled home.

Monday, January 09, 2006

Cornelius is soooooo gay...

- How gay is he?? He made his own Shake 'n Bake mix because he was drunk at the grocery store and bought 10 pounds of chicken yet...no shake and bake, even though he did manage to pick up another $7 jug 'o wine from Watergate Liquors.

Breadcrumbs, or stale bread totally smashed to pieces
Old Bay (me rikey crabs)
Some red Indian spice your roommate had in the spice cabinet
Fresh cracked pepper (to obtain freshly cracked black pepper, take whole pepper corns, put in ziplock, proceed to beat with bible that crazy religious Aunt gave you Christmas '02)
Garlic salt
Dried Cilantro

Place chicken breast into large ziploc bag then pour in "Sassy Spice" mix, close ziploc, shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it, ohhhhh ohh, shake it like a polaroid picture, place coated chicken on pan previously sprayed with Pam, cook at 450 for 20 minutes. Eat the chicken titty, throw it up into your toilet then blog about it.

Betty Cocklover


- Next stop, FIERCENESS!!!! So all y'all know that I luhrve me some trannies. Not in a sexual way, but they embody the holy trinity of sass, class, and five 'o clock shadows that makes me giggle like a little girl. Because of my educational interests, I have had the opportunity to become friends with a handful of pre and post op transexual and a few transgender people. These people have definitely enriched my life in countless ways and make me all warm in my heart ect ect. The thing is, I have never really run into a trans person (that is openly not passing) outside of class or clubs. Well today my children, while on the metro, I (along with the rest of the 8am commuters towards Capital Hill) got treated to a ONE, TWO, SNAP! Performance by the sassiest "lady" in existence (think of her as a cross between Star Jones and the crackhead character on "The Chapelle Show, with a Hello Kitty mini bookbag). I am pretty sure she was coming down from an all night meth binge in Virginia or something of similar craziness. Girl...Worked...It...Out. I think I was the only one on the train that didn't attempt to call 911. I took out my earbuds and encouraged her by laughing hysterically, one other (crazy/high/fierce tranny herself?) woman at the other end of the car chanted WALK WALK WALK. Not only did she treat us to a runway stalk, not walk, that could put the bitches on America's Next Top Model to shame, but she sang as well (gotta start practicing for "Tranny Idol" methinks). This little show went on for 3 stops, on a packed train, standing room only, until we reached L'Enfant Plaza and bitch took off. She ran right up the escalator and out of my heart. Trannies on the Metro...Ahhh I am gonna miss DC.

- BTW, one of my readers asked me what the group FANNYPACK that I mentioned in my other post sounded like. My response is imagine a troupe of sassy, pregnant, slutty, short skirt, no bras, babies dressed in Louis Vuitton in strollers on the sideline, Schlitz malt liquor guzzling cheerleaders at practice, they would make up routines to FANNYPACK songs

It's manna from heaven, Map manna...

OHHHHH 148 Bleecker, how I miss thee (I lived there 3 years ago)

- OK, so I'll be the first to admit it, I can be a big tard when it comes to using directions, especially when I am not a local. Case in point, when I was in NYC over new years, trying to find my friend's place in the West 80's, it was like looking for a (pre-war classic 6 with marble kitchen) needle in a haystack. My friend told me I would have no prob getting to his place, he also ignored my plea to provide me with a physical description of his building, I don't care if you take me by my hand and lead me to a certain address that I am supposed to be at, I will go all Helen Keller on your ass and try to get into the building next door. When arranging for me to come over to your place, please tell me if there is an awning, or if it is brick, or if you have a crackhead that's always outside, the visuals make me arriving to your place hella easier....Well chil'rens, because Jesus is my total BFF he intelligently designed / immaculately concieved PROPERTY SHARK!!!!! It kicks Google Earth's sloppy ass. All you have to do if you want to find the place you are going to is typey typey your little destination into this search engine and bitches, it gives a map and a mutha fuckin picture of the building. It makes giving directions to the hairless Filipino tranny you met at Avalon a much less traumatic cab ride/ stumble to your sinful, dirty love nest...(sorry all y'all DC sluts, it's only for NYC locations so far)


Sunday, January 08, 2006

You are what you google....

- Some of my more recent google searches, I swear I am not this fucked up...just curious.

apartments in new york city
life of a rentboy
life of a kept boy
Chelsea boys
gay mafia
Beige at B-Bar
Jay Hernandez
West Wing
"Are You Being Served?"
BBC America
"Keeping Up Appearances"
Hillary Clinton
The gay guy from Real World Chicago
Gay Hamptons
Gay Fire Island
Fire Island summer shares
Easy Korean recipes
Korean grocery stores in DC
Kim chee
Nutritional value of Kim Chee
Avian Flu
The link between SARS and vitamin C
Columbia Law

- So apparently I will be a NY trained law student that has sex with men in the gay mafia for tuition on Fire Island while eating Korean food and watching britcoms...yup seems right to me.

That is why...I am geisha...

- Went and saw HOSTEL tonight with Frank the spank. BITCHES I ALMOST VOMITED. So a little background, Frank and I met at this great place in Chinatown called Matchbox and I had a crazy amazing steak salad. This restaurant is sooo good, and all the patrons looked like those hot dads you used to spank it to in middle school in the J.Crew and LL Bean catalogs (of course they were homos). After dinner, where we sat between, I kid you not, a midget on a date and a drunk kid that spilled his drink all over himself and the floor, we headed over to the theater to get us some tickets. This place is one of those theaters where people like to talk back to the screen, so I knew this ultra bloody film was gonna elicit a few "OH GUUURL, GURL GET THE GUN", "GURL DON'T GO IN THERE". Turns out, it was my gay ass screaming that shit. This movie is fucking nutzo. It is the bloodiest films i have ever seen, bloodier than the "Here Comes Baby" show on the health channel. I threw-up...a little...in my mouth. The best part however, is Mr. Jay Hernandez, who happens to look like my ex. Jay makes getting your fingers cut off dead sexy. So the theatre was packed and Frank makes friends with the sassy black girls sitting next to us. Throughout the film, at each stomach churrning scene, the girls, Frank and I try to out snap each other. The winning comment (from me of course) was when an asian girl gets her eyeball all fucked up, while the rest of the the theater inhales in silent gasps, my fierce ass shouts out "That is why....I am geisha". Frank peed himself, I should really be on VH1.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Now is this Katherine's boy....

- My Me-maw just called me and wanted me to send some pics of myself to show her lady friends at the rich, old, white people club. Since she gave my name to my Aunt Marlena Belle in our family secret santa (I got Lisa Frank dolphin stationary) i decided to take some pics of me in a worn out wifebeater and a jug of $6 wine...

- This is a pic of my friend riding me like a pony

- This is a pic of my friend Cha Cha, she's a lesbian, and black.