Lemme fast forward for you or.... aren't you precious....

So, I've been mulling over the joys and follies of the psyche of gay men and it occurred to me, it would behoove me in my infinite and omni-media, almost Oprah Legends Ball style awesomeness for me to sit y'all pretty ladies down and have a talk with you about gay life.... and where you fit in.

Dear Twink, Yes we get it, you're gayer than a glitter covered disco ball at gay pride, you couldn't be more proud and refer to EVERYONE as "Girl" and everything is "Fabulous" and your role models include Lady Gaga and, judging from your bodies, starving un-exercised children in eastern Europe. Let me tell you a little something.... reel it back in. Fast forward about ten years and you're still wearing body glitter and rainbow jewelery, that doesn't say pride.... that says substance abuse and K addiction. We're all proud of you finding out who you are and nobody's trying to put you in a hetero-normative box nor tell you how to express yourself.... wait I take that back I am telling you how to express yourself. So go out, find a J. Crew, talk to the lovely and attractive sales associate, and get yourself a V-neck cotton blend sweater my dear, cuz you're "I can't even think straight T-shirt"?.....got's to go. oh and btw eat a bagel, they're delicious.

Dear Bitchy Queen, yes yes, I see your eyes judging me when I go to the grocery in sweatpants and a t-shirt from 1997. No I don't wear prada (fill in the blank) when I go out, and I'm not up to speed on Mark Jacobs new line or don't have the latest ummmm neck chains??? But if there's one thing I've always found about you is that your job will consist of an executive/admin assistant, low level aide, or some other ungodly job that requires little to no skill because let's face it, you've spent all your formative years memorizing the latest vogue instead of developing any kind of marketable skill except the uncanny ability to spot a Louis Vuitton knockoff from 30 paces. So let's fast forward down the road in ten years when you're up to your ass in debt from repeatedly buying this seasons gucci loafers, and having cocktails at some lounge with your equally tragic friends talking about me in my sweatpants at the grocery and how dreadful it is..... Lemme tell you what's dreadful my dears...... renting and not owning in your late 30's...... think about it.

Dear Muscle Queen, yes yes, I can see your abs from space and you can crush oreos in between your steroid laden pecs. I'm sure that you look wonderful when you're peeling off your abercrombie and fitch muscle tees and look wonderful whilst doing ummmm lat pulldowns or whatever but let me tell you something.... let's fast forward 10 years when instead of pecs your muscle has turned to fat and your chest looks more like my grandmothers than an adonis and your testicles have shriveled up from too much steroid use and your once virile man parts are now sad reminders of orgies gone by. Let me say something, in this day and age fit is great, fit is fun, and a washboard stomach is next to godliness, but let's draw the line because I don't want to sleep with a guy whose only addition to the conversation is the latest protein shake recipe he's just found or 101 ways to really make your triceps pop.......

So I've hit on several of the major gay subgroups in our fair city... where status is measured in proximity to power, not proximity to Gucci, where a mans worth is measured in the contents of his contact list, not on what's on his feet. So take note gays, in DC nobody cares who you're wearing.... just who you know and what you do so if you want to succeed as an A-list gay in DC.... be smart, not slutty..... ok just a little....

Friday Five - Lessons for my Unborn Son

So, yes, I admit I'm riding the coattails of this wonderful blog, but I do think that it lacks a certain je ne sais quoi, a certain pizzaz, a certain sparkle that only yours truly can offer. Now let's face facts, the chances of me having children are the same as my showing up to a dinner party and not having a cocktail so I think I'll entitle my rules my 5 rules for the new gayling, the just out, dewey and fresh faced gay who is entering into a world of glitter.

Rule Number 1: Always walk into the gay bar like you own the place. Whenever you walk into a gay establishment, you will be sized up by 95% of the queens in said establishment within the first 10 seconds. Walking in with your shoulders slouched and looking scared, establishes your place in the gay pecking order at said bar at somewhere below the towel guy in the bathroom. When you walk into a bar, don't act like a bitchy queen, but establish your presence early on and don't act like it's your first day of school and you're trying to make new friends, you've entered the lions den and if you show weaknes.... you're going to get cut up like sushi in tokyo.

Rule Number 2: At some point in your life do Drag, and do it well. I realize that some of you new gaylings are so "straight acting" you're but an angels breath away from planting your face in a plate full of lady parts but there's nothing that puts your life into a "you know, life just isn't that serious" place than putting on a floor length glitter gown, teasing out a wig (the higher the hair, the closer to jesus) strapping on a pair of gravity defying stilettos and doing up your makeup. Also, for those that think they're too masculine for these and would rather put on their favorite muscle tees and camo pants..... it takes much bigger balls to be a man in a dress and makeup than it does to be a man in a suit..... just saying.

Rule Number 3: Make Friends With the Weird Kid, one of the pitfalls of any group of people, and this is just as true in the gay world, is that everyone wants to fit in. Groups of friends will tend toward the same designers, get comparable haircuts, and will make sure that nobody rocks the boat so to speak. So if you're at a party and you see the kid that's wearing an oversized brooch and neon kicks.... go over and introduce yourself, surrounding yourself with people that aren't afraid to express themselves and try something new will prompt you to do the same, and trust me it's a lot more fun that way..... Plus.... odds are the weird ones are the ones with the best ideas and it's more likely than not that one day they'll be the rich ones, and mommy loves her a rich friend with a guest house.

Rule Number 4: You are not as interesting as you think you are, especially after your 3rd cocktail. Now my little darlings, there are times in life when you are at a party and you're looking fierce, your stomach's flat, and your hair is did right. You've had one, two, and are on your third obviously low cal cocktail (vodka and soda) and you think the things that are coming out of your mouth are like gems that people around your are clamoring for..... yeah I'm gonna go ahead and say probably not. At parties or social events it's great to participate but not to dominate, being overbearing in any conversation will only garner you one reputation.... uninteresting blowhard. Besides, if you're the only one talking how are you going to let that cute guy in the corner, no not that one, the one in the green with the arms, get a word in edgewise to ask you if you'd like to step out on the veranda to gaze at the stars?

Rule Number 5: A bitchy queen ends getting a bitchy slap upside her head. Don't be that guy that curls his top lip up when someone enters the room that he doesn't think meets his standard of excellence. This especially applies to treating your front desk lady, your secretary, bar staff, ESPECIALLY bar staff, and anyone else in the service industry. For the first two you must ask them at least 3 times a week how their day was how their weekend was and how their family is, because let me just say that Ms. Paulette at the front desk doesn't have to let you know that your new shipment from Gilt.com just came in and Ms. Leondra who is your office secretary can just "forget" that an important fax came in for you. Nobody likes a bitchy queen except for other bitchy queens and just because you think your frosted tips and white faux leather belt are the jam.... trust momma..... the only thing a bitchy queen ends up getting is a bitchy slap upside the head.....

Father Time... Stop Punching me in the Face!!!!!!

Hello my duckies.... so I've recently been thinking about time, and how quickly it seems to be passing. Now this is not some maudlin hand to forehead "where is the time going and woe is me" kind of post. It's more the.... "ummm what the hell happened and where did all the payphones go" kind of post. So just in case you, like me, are not a girl and not yet a woman you're wondering when the following things happened since you're in your mid-late twenties or early 30's and still wax sentimental for a simpler time, a more Jem she's so outrageous, Captain Planet and the Planeteers time......

Long ago I promised myself I would not turn into one of those comb over having, abercrombie wearing, hollister having, men in their 30's that was desperately trying to recapture the sad remnants of a youth that they spent basically on their backs with their heels to jesus or in the closet. I thought that like my life up till now I would transition into full on adult in a graceful and elegant fashion.... and then I thought, you know, I used to be what I would consider a pretty good diver.... why don't I try that out again, not to mention I haven't been off a diving board much less platform in over a decade. Let's just say a couple of things, 28 year old bodies are not meant to put up with the strain that 18 year old bodies are. After one practice even my eye lashes hurt. Now I would just like to say that I'm not giving up but I'll be damned if I will be doing said diving in any location other than one in which I am very certain I will not be seen by ANYONE I know.

I WILL say however I now own no Abercrombie, Hollister, or American Eagle ANYTHING. and if you're over 25 and you do.... well honey we need to have a come to jesus don't we?

I also thought that as I got older I wouldn't let the worries and trappings of the common folk enter into my royal and exalted head. I wouldn't be constantly worried about things like bills, or the future, or any grown up things that seem to have caused many a wrinkle in the foreheads of my parents or other "grownups." That my existence would pretty much be maintained at all times in the currency of lovely cocktails and fabulous events. Annnnd then I realized, not even this morning that the majority of the conversations I've had in the past 24 hours with my friends have centered around savings accounts, retirement plans, stock portfolios and mortgages. Just thinking about that made me want to recreate a time when I was living in England abroad and myself and one of my best friends would go to Harrods, and we'd walk into.... say.... the louis vuitton section, and I'd be holding something lovely and inspecting it and the following conversation would ensue....

Friend: "I bet you won't buy that"
Me: "Don't be ridiculous, I don't need another wallet, not to mention this bag"
Friend: "You totally just won't buy that, what a tool"
Me: "OMG stop being a dick, I could totally buy it if I wanted"
Friend: "Liar"
Me: "I'll show you, I'll buy the wallet and bag and have them monogrammed....jerk. now let's get a drink, shopping makes me parched for a martini."

This exchange would be quickly followed by an angry call from mumsy and daddykins on why I thought I needed to spend $2300.00 at Louis Vuitton in an hour, but once I explained that with the exchange rate it was much cheaper than buying in the states....well it didn't make them less mad but it bought me a little more time.

So I guess the lesson of the story my dear duckies is in the enjoyment of the things and abilities that we have available to us at the present time. Sure I won't be able to do the dives and gymnastic feats I once could, but having found yoga I am now able to bend in ways that would make having a significant other obsolete, and yes now I worry about my savings account, mortgage, and retirement funds but also I am happily no longer eating naught but velveeta shells and cheese 5 nights a week and drinking naught but two buck chuck and Diplomat Vodka. So I'll take age.... as long as it comes with the promise of the three C's.... Cocktails, Cocktail Rings, and Cashmere.

Facebook Etiquette, Manners in the Modern Age

Hello again duckies. If you're like me (and let's face it, if you were your life would be a lot more sparkly) you spend a lot of your free time on Facebook. Like it or not facebook has become one of the foremost social networking sites of the land, and a wonderful way to keep tabs on ex's, the mean girl in HS, and whomever else that you enjoy having documented proof of that they're either morbidly obese, working at a gas station, or "blessed" with now their fourth or fifth child.... P.S. by blessed I mean awfully tied down.

I would be remiss as the current Duchess of Protocol if I didn't lay down some rules so that we can move forward with this new fangled technology with an air of decorum and propriety.... so grab your cocktails, pick out some elbow length gloves, and gather your hoop-skirts ladies cuz here's some knowledge!!!!

Let's start out with the pictures you post.....now I'm sure that while you were getting drunk at a bar on a Wednesday and thought taking pictures was a fantastic idea, I would think twice before putting said pictures on your facebook. As funny as those pictures seem to you, to everyone else on the interwebs you look like a mess, an awful embarrassing drunken mess. Also, if you're out of college, the drunken blackout pictures are just a sad sad sad attempt at you trying to reclaim your youth. Now this is not to say if you're out and about at a party or event and you take funny pictures those aren't appropriate, I would just say please tread the line carefully duckies between entertainingly tipsy and ridiculously trashy.

Accepting/Giving a friend request. let's face some hard truths....you're not as popular as you think you are.... and you're not as memorable, so to the person that you may have said hello to as an acquaintance of a friend of a neighbor, don't request to be their friend. Unless you know their first and last name, and can recall at least 4 instances wherein you've had a conversation please don't assume that your presence is so sought after that someone else will be in the awkward position of saying to themselves.... who the crap is this fool?? And on the flipside, if someone requests to be your friend and you can't remember at least 4 instances where you've had a conversant instance.... don't accept.

Wall Posts - everyone likes an update, and what is facebook if not a forum where you can let other people know the goings-on of your head but here are a couple of tips for you when engaging in said wall postings. A). Nobody wants to know about how much you love your (girlfriend, boyfriend, wife, husband etc.) the only thing a posting like that will accomplish is to put me off my tea, and no this is not coming from a place of bitter loneliness, just a place of haughty propriety and manners. B). Don't engage in arguments via wall postings, having an argument in such an open forum just begs to be broadcast and you won't come out smelling like roses, trust our royal highness. C). Stay klassy ladies... .stay klassy.

Now this is obviously an incomplete list, but should start you well on your way to becoming classy lady of the new century!

Friday Five - Five Gay Bumper Stickers and what they say about you

Hello my darling duckies, I've been noodling over what bumper sticker to put on momma's new car... and then I got to thinking.... well what does a bumper sticker say about the owner of said vehicle because as a shining paragon of glitter and style to the residents of DC I can't just slap my royal endorsement on just any organization!!!!!! So here are 5 bumper stickers that are prevalent in DC and what they say about their owners.....

1). HRC- I respect the mission of the HRC, I rahhhhly do, but let's face facts if you're putting this sticker on your car you're saying a couple of things A). I'm whiter than an albino child dipped in flour with some cash to burn B). I love going to a ball - HRC dinner HELLO! and C). I really like being able to tell my heterosexual friends, that's right, I'm politically active but still definitely straight acting *barf*








2. Anything with a rainbow - Now this says one thing and pretty much one thing only.... I came out within the last 6 months to a year and I need EVERYBODY and their mother to know I'm gay. I will be attending EVERY gay rally and will be wearing a mesh tank top and body glitter as much as humanly possible and will be giving people dirty looks left right and sideways should they stare at me with wonder and interest, even if I will walk around looking like I've just had a major neurological event...... or it means you're a lesbadina.





3). PFLAG - I'm going to go ahead and say if you have a PFLAG sticker on your car you are of the heterosexual persuasion (God bless your heart) and are supportive of my people and their striving for the god given rights of beautiful jewels and cocktails for all!!!!! However, if you have this sticker on your car let me just make a prediction, if you are ever blessed with the miracle (curse) known as children, this sticker means you will know more about gay bars then your gay child, and his/her ultimate source of embarassment will come from when you sit his/her friends down over dinner to explain the difference between a dildo and a dong. OH, and there is a difference if my experience talking to hookers is any indication.



4). Stickers that look like this - you. are. a. tool.

No, nobody thinks it's cool that you have an abbreviation that doesn't make any sense unless you're "in the know". No I don't care that you think you're in some sort of secret club with this sticker. Please remove, it hurts my good taste.





5). Free Tibet- Now if we were to have a conversation it would go something like this... "Nice sticker, which small liberal arts school in New England did you go to and at what candlelight vigil when you were decrying the US presence in (name conflict area) and listening to "spoken word art" did you get this sticker???? Now I would like to say that I would expect to see this car on the back of an SUV that a wannabee hippy has on his car to make sure that everyone knows that just because he accepted this car from his stockbroker father does NOT mean that he's stopped caring for the plight of oppressed nations.



So think my dear duckies.... what does your bumper sticker say about you? because everybody's watching :).

Fenty vs. Gray down to the wire

So once again my duckies, we're embroiled in a much heated debate on whom will run our fair city. Now honestly if I had my way we'd all make the informed decision and write in the homeless guy on the corner that holds the sign that reads "I'm going to be honest, I want money to buy beer".... now that's a politician I can trust!!!! However, Jerome from down the street hasn't had the forebearance to run so we must choose between Adrian Fenty and Vincent Gray.... But I wonder my little duckies.... do you know where each candidate stands on issues that affect the Duchy of Cocktails also known as Gay DC? Well if you don't then take a seat little duckies and let me drop a whole lot of wisdom on your teeny little heads.

Issue 1: Appearance.

Let me issue you exhibit A.
This would be our current mayor. I don't about yall but I enjoy the fact that my leader has better abs than most of his constituents. I know that in a mayor I want an individual that leads by example.... with his abs.... and his arms......and his.... well let's just say that the lycra doesn't do much to hide his executive power......






And now exhibit B. Now Vince Gray, you would be so much better served by either wearing a well fitting dress shirt or not tucking your polo into your pants.... hello!!! creating man boobs and a spare tire much???? Also we're going to have to work on your child molester smile and mustache that I can only assume covers your hairlip.... ew.












Issue 2. Liquor Taxes - Now we have heard an upsetting rumor from our "friends" to the commonwealth to the south..... that their governor wants to increase the prices of alcohol served in restaurants in bars. Now let me just say that when I heard that I had to break out my fan and start fanning away the vapors of disgust I felt at such an idea. I'm sorry but taxing the gays alcohol is like taxing pleated khakis for straight men.... it's a hate crime (PS, pleated khakis? straighties? let's discuss).

Now while neither candidate has blatantly said anything about this issue let's infer from some past decisions

Fenty- Kept bars and restaurants in Adams Morgan open for 24 hours during the inauguration festivities. Now to me that just says this is an elected leader who knows how a good cocktail can bring people together, bridge the divide between thirst and fun, and allow people from all creeds, races and backgrounds sit back and say.... "you know that fifth shot was probably a bad idea but at 2 bucks a pop I can't really say no"

Gray - That man looks like he could use a drink.... just sayin.

Issue 3. Gay Marriage

This my darlings is a non-issue. Fenty signed the marriage bill and Gray unanimously supports it. This is a smart move because I've said it before and I'll say it again, you can't swing a dead cat in this city without hitting a homosexual and if these candidates want to get anywhere they're going to need the support of the gay vote. Plus you know those two are just salivating at the amount of money some queens are going to throw into the local economy once flowers are bought, venues rented, doves acquired, booze taken care of, floor length vera wang dresses and tiaras are fitted....... oh wait.... maybe that's just me..... moving on.



In any event my dears, I think it will take a lot more than a Vincent Gray or an Adrian Fenty to decimate the District.... hell we had a mayor that was convicted of crack abuse and then we re-elected him!!!!

But my question to you my dear reader, is what are the gay issues that you want to see our next mayor address????

Friday Five - Rules for Working on Your Fitness

Hey Ladies... it's the last long weekend of the summer, and there's no time like the present to break out your little mankini and try to catch some rays before the first tickle of autumns wind on the back of your neck forces you into an array of lovely V-neck merino sweaters and bomber jackets and maybe a light accent scarf and a jaunty hat...... where was I again?? OH YES, summer.

In any event, if you're a run of the mill homosexual like yours truly, for the past 3 months you've been living on a diet of ice cubes, protein bars, and crunches for fear of gay shame at ye olde pool party or god forbid on the gay beach at Rehomo.... and judging by this years showing at said gay beach it turns out I probably could have been eating naught but fudge and drinking naught but yoohoo all year long and still have looked more presentable than 95% of those messes.

ANYWHO, all that exercise means one thing... gym. Now to the average homosexual the gym is tantamount to a place of worship, you're judged on which gym you belong to and how often you attend. There are strict rituals and an established pecking order. On this Friday I've decided to share 5 rules that one should follow to successfully navigating your local gay gym.

1). While you may want to go out and buy the newest tennis shoes, get the Louis Vuitton gym bag, and Gucci headband....... spend that money on a personal training session. Let's face facts, at the gay gym it's not about how you look with your clothes on, it's free advertising to show future ex boyfriends what you are going to look like with your clothes off.

2). See that guy with the huge muscles and veins bulging doing that exercise that looks new and innovative that you're sure if you do you'll look like him??? Yeah don't do that. You will only succeed in doing two things, hurting yourself and making yourself look stupid. Stick to the basics or ask one of the lovely personal trainers who, while they can't do long division, can tell you the merits of any new exercise you've discovered.

3). While you whilst be tempted by the nakedness in the locker room, try your best to avert your eyes. While we all strive to be the model of physical perfection that garners the stares that come from years of constant exercising and not eating, nobody likes Chester the Molester so stop staring and drooling.

4). You know what, there is absolutely no need to make noises like you're trying to pass history's largest poop when you lift weights. I understand, weights are heavy, really I do, but if they're that heavy that everyone around you is just waiting for your rectum to rupture maybe you should back off a little... not a sermon, just a thought.

5). The most important thing to remember at the gym is, don't take yourself too seriously. Yes you may belong to the most exclusive gay gym that is such a paragon of superficial gayness you come out of the gym shaking the glitter off your head, but it is at the end of the day a gym with one purpose, to help you get in shape. So wear your shorts from high school, cut the sleeves off of your old t-shirts, get that water bottle out you got from your company picnic and get your ass to the gym because one of the most important things about the gay community.... fatties are icky.

Lessons Learned... Rehoboth Beach 2010

Hello my lovelies, I know it's been a while since I posted but things have just been cuhraaaazy in momma's life!!! There's been housewives to watch, weight to lose, and boyfriends to steal and in all that whirlwind of gayness and glitter I've had nary a moment to sit down and tip tap away my manicured nails to fill you in on the inner workings of my coiffed existence!!!

But for realsies.... let me tell you about my lovely vacation to Rehomo, where good taste goes to die.

Now for starters, if you have yet to go to Rehomo and are from DC, don't be fooled. This is not the riviera, nor is it the hamptons, or even South beach. Expect a couple of things to happen, fat white people, sunburned fat white people, gay men from Pennsylvania or New Jersey who think that wearing purple bloomers and frosted tips is "in" and the smell of Tropicana suntan oil mixed with the faint hint of ciggarettes and shame.

Anyways, I've obviously been making yearly pilgrimages since I was 5. I'm also pretty convinced that my sister was conceived there but that's another psychiatric session inducing story.

So I went this past year and let me tell you some of the gems of wisdom that I picked up.....

1-Rides are not the same when you're in your 20's as they are when you are 6. The gravitron for instance, a machine that spins you around like a salad spinner making you stick to the wall for the duration of said ride..... I believe my comment to my fellow 20 something when we were both on the ride was, "I think this is what hell feels like"
however the boat ship thing that swings side to side is in fact the same and still just as awesome.

2-You in fact CAN eat too much grotto pizza.... ow my stomach.... ow my pride.

3-Speedos are a privilege, not a right. I in fact do don the teeny weeny mankini in the summer but as someone with the weight of an adolescent girl and the fact that I am in fact A SWIMMER, I think I'm ok in wearing one. However I would like to point out that when your friends tell you it's time for you to stop.... it's time.

4-sometimes you wake up in the morning, roll over, and take a big sip of what you think is water next to your bed.... and sometimes it's straight up vodka.

5-All Political correctness goes right out the door at the beach..... as was evident by a lady asking my sister if she was asian because she had "chinky eyes"..... awesome.

Winter Olympics - A Prospective

Now what could be more fitting after digging our royal selves out of the Snownami followed by Snowpacolypse followed by what I can only describe as the DC version of “the shining” where cabin fever made me go a little bit banana sandwich.  Now just some things about that

1). One day I watched literally 12 hours of television and all bad daytime tv…. 7am-9am (The Nanny) 9am-11am (Golden Girls) 11am – noon (Will and Grace) Noon-5 (Roseanne) 5-7 (golden girls)   I still can’t decide if I’m proud or ashamed of that…. I’m going to say I’m prashamed.

2). You know you’re gay when you’re willing to walk 2 miles in slush and snow just to go to the gym.

ANYWAYS – so on to the more important topic…. The impending Winter Olympics

First of all… blah blah blah skiing, blah blah blah curling, blah blah blah luge.  Good now that my recap of all the non important sports is out of the way we can focus on the true issue….. FIGURE SKATING!!!!!!

The gays they love the figure skating, there’s drama, there’s dancing…. There’s sequined jumpsuits with matching skate covers…. It’s a gay old dream!  And this year at the winter Olympics we shan’t be disappointed.   Let’s review the highlights of the US Olympic team shall we???

Johnny Weir -  Johnny “Queer” makes my little gay heart soar because let’s face it chickens, when you were a young queerling there is pretty much nothing more you wanted than to get up, meet with your trainer while you were wearing your dancing tights, then go for a quick drive with your agent on the way to film your music video while you read a people magazine, drink diet coke and view the world through Louis Vuitton shades ……. It amuses me that little Johnny still maintains his “privacy regarding his sexuality”,  Honey darling, you call yourself princess, list one of your idols as Christina Aguilera, and have your own clothing line in Korea, you’re not only gay, you’re REGINA GEORGE!!!

Evan Lysacek – hmmmm 6’2” dark Italian features and can move to a rhythm? Um yes please. Judging from his ill fitting “pirate sleeves” costumes and costumes resembling a tuxedo I’m going to go ahead and say that he does not carry the flame of sisterhood like our lady Ms. Johnny. That being said he’s in a world of sequins and hairspray so either he’s gonna have a “misunderstanding” one night after too many tequila shots a la Cutting Edge (TOE PICK) or he’s going to be the most oversexed straight man to hit ice skating since……that other straight one…you know…. The one in the 50’s?..... oh wait… that was skiing…nevermind.

Jeremy Abbott- you aren’t interesting and I don’t care about you.  However if you do either fall on your butt numerous times I will make sure to watch.

Mirai Nagasu – OOOH gurl, now, as someone who is a frail cherry blossom herself, I gotta back up my Japanese sister…. You’re looking at a queen whose grandparents kept a scrapbook of Kristi Yamaguchi’s newspaper articles.  She’s young, she’s Japanese, and she can bend in ways that would make Cirque Du Soleil proud.  She is picking up the torch that Michelle Kwan so horribly dropped… let’s face it, Asians do figure skating….. it’s ginsu on her feet bi*ches!!!!

Rachel Flatt – Well let’s face it, you’re not the asian darling of millions like my girl Mirai. And I swear if you tara Lipinski a medal away from her I swear I will rain the fury of a thousand bitchy queens upon you!!!!  That being said good luck honey, oh, and black is slimming…. Remember that…… I wonder if she ever got called Rachel Fatt….

Happy Friday everyone, let’s hope for an Olympics full of heart wrenching montages, nail biting jump combinations, and enough lycra to outfit an entire circuit party~!!!

Thursday….. it’s time for a Haiku how can you resist!!!

Hello Chickens, hope you’re all having a fabulous week full of things like espresso colonics and weekend facelifts. Momma’s been uber busy with things like getting those pesky last two ribs removed and trying to find a way to take all my meals in pill form so I don’t mess up my lovely new veneers. However, as I was sitting in the doctors office while he was saying annoying things like “unnecessary surgery” and “risks to your health” I thought to myself, “What a lovely time to come up with some haikus that illustrate the goings on of our regal brain…. So here we are chickens…

Vida Group Power

Your name is not quite correct

Single fat chicks right

Snownami is great

Gays won’t know what to do now

Crew club will be packed

Butterstick is gone

China is In’jun giver

Let’s steal the great wall

Jim Graham is creepy

Stop staring at my rear end

Must find new food store

Impending snow storm

Must remember essentials

Gin, vodka, mixers

Don’t ask don’t’ tell bad

I love men in uniform

They take orders well

So there are just a few snippets on this Thursday chickens, stay dry, stay warm, and remember, crunches, they aren’t just for the summer time anymore, and if you think people don't notice... you're just wrong.

Dear John Edwards.... let's have a chat.

Sweet Cheese and Biscuits, John Edwards, how in the name of Madras Pants have you put yourself in a tail spin of almost comical proportions. I feel as the reigning Duchess of Protocol that we need to have a little bit of a chitty chitty chat chat.

John Edwards, first of all, seriously?? I know power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely but you’re not a stupid man, wouldn’t you know that having a mistress would get picked up by at least one of your staffers and then get leaked to the media? I mean where have you been the last I dunno….. bazillion years in American politics???

Secondly, and I mean yes you made a decision to have an affair, ok. Lot’s of American’s have extra-marital sexual encounters all the time, that’s a fact of life. However, you failed to use a condom and she failed to use birth control…. Now let’s just review for a second, not only did you create a life out of the bowels of moral incompetency, which btw you better start a trust fund for that baby because if she makes it out of adolescence without being either the biggest sl*t or making friends with one or many controlled substances I will be shocked, but you could have gotten any number of diseases from that woman and passed it onto your wife and the mother of your children. I’m sure she would agree that having stage 4 cancer is bad enough without having to explain why you also have to be treated for crabs. I would rather walk across my tongue than speak ill of someone but when you have sex with someone named Rielle, you use a condom, it’s just common sense.

And now that I mention it, onto the subject of your wife and your legitimate children. I just wanna sit down with Elizabeth Edwards, pour ourselves some lovely afternoon cocktails and tell that woman that I admire her grace and courage in this entire situation. If it was me, there may or may not have been phrases that started with “slashed” and ended with “tires.” There definitely would have been an interview on Oprah where she would have extolled my virtues as a strong woman and then we would have hugged some Nigerian orphans and had a legends ball, and maybe the words “Hooker Smack Down” would have been applied to your woman friend (just a sidebar I would never personally administer a smackdown, I’m much too concerned with the health of my cuticles to waste it on anyone with a name like Rielle).

…..And it must be mentioned…. The sex tape. John Edwards, you are a lawyer and a previously elected member of the Senate, during tenure in both those capacities you should have realized that if there is no physical evidence you have a better chance of plausible deniability, and beyond that, you are such an idiot for making a sex tape with your mistress. If it was your wife you could chalk it up to spicing up the marriage, which btw, is a totally reasonable thing to do.

So in conclusion. John Edwards, you can wear all the hang dog faces you want and make statements about how you’re so sorry and you’re committed to your family blah blah blah. Your career is on the skids and so is your family life. I won’t be inviting you to any of my rooftop cocktail parties now or in the future and please let your wife know that she and I will be having a martini soon.

I just don't make enough money to be Gay.....

Yester-evening while sitting on my couch, sip sip sipping on my nightcap, I was chatting with one of my friends who recently got his Tax bill back and he owes a nice chunk of change. We were discussing how to get around this snafoo and I suggested he start a farm on his porch or adopt a Himalayan whistle kid stat to declare some stuff that would make uncle sam loosen his pockets back up, but it got me to thinking, you know, in this day and age, to be a young gay male in DC you need some serious money and for the greater majority of us, it just aint working out. Therefore, in our effort to make Gay DC a little bit more sparkly, yours truly has come up with an action plan to send to our president with a list of subsidies that those who are little bit over fabulous and a little bit underfunded can take advantage of. Me and B-Rock will be chatting about it a little bit later while I have his cook make me dinner (btw if that cook was in my kitchen momma would be eating in a LOT more).

Clothing Subsidy – I don’t think that the general public understand how much funding it takes to maintain our level trend setting styles all the time. Not only do most young gays not have the funding it takes to afford the guccis, pradas, and all other accoutrement that comes barreling down the catwalk and into our dreams, we don’t have the luxury of waiting for the bargain basement versions of it to be thrown at us by the H&M’s of the world while in the meantime styles have changed, jean shorts are in, and raybans and cravats are back. I also believe that this subsidy should also be combined with a work outreach program in which male clothing stores are required to have on staff at least one homosexual male individual who would be able to serve as a truthful assessor of whether or not your butt looks good in those pants or whether you should wear orange….because sometimes it’s just not your look and you should be informed.

Hair + Skin Care - I have a dream that one day I will be able to walk into a Sephora, whip out my gay card (an card obviously covered in rainbow sparkles) and set it down on the counter and automatically receive a 25% discount on any of the many products I need to make myself look dewy fresh before I set my pumice stoned toes out of the house in the morning. This extends all the way up to but not including plastic surgery because, while I support the pioneering efforts of many gays to slow the signs of aging, by the time you need plastic surgery let’s face it, you should probably be able to afford it.

Gym Subsidy – this may be the most important subsidy of all. The Catholics have their churches, the Episcopalians have their cathedrals, the Muslims have their mosques….. and the Gays have their gyms. These are sacred institutions where we go to pray to our assorted gods, there’s “The holy bearer of the abdominals” , “The twins of power, Bicep 1 and Bicep 2”…. And let us all not forget his holiness, “Lord Pectoralis.” We need the gym much in the same way that Midwest needs Jesus.

Beverage Stamps – So the food stamp program seems to be working at least marginally well for people that need sustenance. I don’t know about the rest of the gays but I haven’t eaten since 1998 and don’t plan on doing so in the immediate future. My diet consists primarily of protein shakes, Martinis, and Bloody Marys (I have to have vegetables), but I think that we should be able to wet our whistles without breaking the bank!!!

So in closing, if you’re young, gay, overfabulous and underfunded band with me on this issue…. Don’t ask don’t tell?? Sure let’s abolish it…. Gay marriage? I’m all for it… but before we tackle those issues let’s tackle some of the really important gay issues because let’s face it people, trying to live my rainbow champagne dreams on a budlight budget aint easy!!!!

Gay DC or Jersey Shore?– Fun Tuesday Game to Play with your friends

So I was sitting around my residence, watching educational television when my favorite show came on….. that’s right chickens…. The Jersey Shore. I started to wonder, as one is wont to do, about what about this show makes it so appealing to myself and hordes of gay men all across our fair city?  What is it about these people who by all intensive purposes think spaghetti is a food group and tanning is a sport  so interesting??? It dawned on me…. THEY’RE EXACTLY LIKE THE GAYS!!!!  To prove my point please play the following game with me,  it’s called, Gay DC or Jersey Shore.  Bring your friends, colleagues, tricks, and assorted persons to play along!

Vida Fitness or Jersey Shore??? You walk into a gym, you’re surrounded by hairless, tan men, all of whom have 8-pack abs and gelled up hair.  Everyone has on designer gym attire whether it is the under-armors of the world or the latest 2xist wife-beater that clings just right to their rock hard pecs. The pec, bicep, tricep, shoulder, and glute machines are ALWAYS full no matter the time of day and are populated by men grunting so hard you hope they don’t mess themselves. The stretching/ab area is full of guys looking at each other, wondering if their situp technique will really make their abs pop like the guy to their right/left. The bathroom is full of men looking at each other, seemingly appraising the surrounding specimens in comparison to their own bodies, conversations range from protein shakes to which anabolic substances are the cheapest that week…… Vida Fitness or Jersey Shore?

Town Danceboutique or Jersey Shore – Stroll with me into a darkened club.  The music is pumping in an almost robotic beat, the lasers are flashing in time with the music and slowly your eyes adjust to the room.  You are surrounded by people who are wearing t-shirts that look painted on or wearing no shirts at all.  Men who are pumping their fists in the air, looking around for that next conquest and joking with their friends about how many people they’ve “creeped on.” Someone in your group will inevitably call someone else’s friend a b*tch and yelling and pulling of hair will ensue which will eventually be resolved by some sort of dancefloor makeout session and inappropriate exhibition of how far they can really bend over…..Town Danceboutique or Jersey Shore?

Drag Queen or Jersey Shore – You see from the distance, several stunning creatures, more eyeliner than Tammie Fae Baker and more rouge than a hooker during fleet week. Tanner than David Hasselhoff in July and with French tipped nails as far as the eye can see.  They approach and you recognize their “bump its” which are obviously attached to what can only be described as processed animal hair, breasts which haven’t been natural since the 80’s, and throwing attitude like it’s going out of style. They’ll do anything for a free drink and have no qualms about shaking  everything that god (and their local plastic surgeon) have given them….. Drag Queen or Jersey Shore??

Rehomo Beach or Jersey Shore – You stroll onto the hot sands of the shore. As far as you can see are tanned, ripped bodies, who, surprisingly enough are already dark brown even though it’s only Memorial Day. Nobody goes near the water for fear of messing up their hair, except to walk along the water so they can appraise future conquests and potential competition. You venture off the beach to one of the shared group homes and you find within more hair gel than soap, more vodka bottles than sandals, and more random people’s underwear lying around that strangely enough doesn’t belong to anyone in the house.  The occupants return to discuss for at least an hour what they’re wearing out that night all the while making themselves red bull and vodkas and rendering their hair immobile and their eyebrows un-bushy, before going out for a night out on a beach bar and using the pickup line “hey wanna see my hot tub?” which refers to a hot tub that should probably be reported to the local health department…. Rehomo or Jersey Shore??

So take this game, play with your friends, but always remember… fake tans and leopard print tops make a statement…. is that the statement YOU want to make??

Friday Five, the B*tch is BACK!

Well it’s obviously been 3 years and much has changed since we last spoke…. The things that I’ve done and seen in that time would curl your toenails my dear readers, however, I think I’m finally ready to hike up my skirt and step my stiletto back into the world of blogging. And what better way to do that than to start off with my Friday Five!!!!!!

Five things that I did in the 3 years since we last spoke that are worth noting….

1). Graduate School – that’s right ladies, I packed up my Jack Spade bag beach tote and threw on my argyle socks and I took myself back to school. I spent the better part of 2007-2009 sitting in the library trying to artfully place pens and highlighters in my hair while I was supposed to be writing policy reports on Epidemic outbreaks. An example of my response to an epidemic outbreak through contaminated Ice Cream….. “Ummmmm who eats ice cream, that is SO not atkins friendly.” And let’s not even get started on my solution to fix childhood obesity, but it definitely involved a taser and a lot of spandex shorts.

2). Rehoboth – let’s break this one down by year shall we:

2007 - the year of shame and the year of excess… highlights included me trying on a 145,000 diamond and the jeweler telling one of my friends whom we pretended was my fiancé, that he’d sell him the ring at a reduction of 10,000. And then going right from there to a bar where we watched a drag king sing patsy kline….. we were confused.


2008 – The year where I lived at the beach. Being in school I decided that I was going to flee DC for about a month from mid july to mid august. So I did…. Thankfully dear readers I have a very loving family that has property on the shore that let me stay with them for a couple weeks till my parents came down and rented a separate house (they’re too lazy to buy a beach house) and stayed there for a couple weeks.

2009- De-bauch-er-y. This was the year I kissed Bruce vilanch on the cheek, convinced a random stranger to take off his shirt on the street so that I may appraise him, got so tan that I applied for the United Negro College Fund, and had to sleep in bunk beds because my younger sister and her boyfriend got the adult sized bed…. Fair? I’m still pissed.

3). Dating life…. What dating life? Between school and working the streets of DC to make ends meet how does a single lady have time to find a gentleman caller suitable for her station? I guess the key words that come to mind if you want to go through my dating life for the past three years….. Old, crazy, clingy, red head (fire crotch!), air force, dumb as a box of hair….. and I think that covers all of them

4). Yes I worked the streets of DC… and no not like you think with me lying on my back and my heels pointed toward Jesus, just in the back of a van offering men money to talk to me about sex. For real… and I got paid for it….jealous?

5). OOOOH Braces…. Oh that’s right ladies and “ladies.” Momma decided to make her social life even more abundant by attaching painful pieces of metal and ceramic to her teeth for 1.5 years. Number of awkward makeout sessions resulted?? Probably more than I care to imagine. Number of times broccoli got caught in my braces? Yeah thank god I switched entirely to a liquid diet in 2007. thankfully this summer off they came and the boys…well they didn’t come a runnin…. Hmmm maybe I need to start offering candy again…..