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…..

Friday Five, Seasonal Resolutions

The colors are changing, the days are getting shorter, the cable-knit merino sweaters and scarf combinations will once again start making their appearance.... it is now fall. With fall, as we are all aware comes a time to make some resolutions. I [Dale] here-to-for resolve that.....

1). I will not be putting up with it tooodaaaaayyyyyy, low drama and high productivity will be the motto for the season!!

2). Less Shake n Bake..... yes the time has come for me to cut down my intake of this wonderful wonderful substance, hmmmm maybe I'll just kind of transfer over to hamburger helper.

3). The start of my war against the term "skinny-fat," which apparently refers to people who have skinny builds but guts..... I don't call that skinny-fat, I call that in need of pilates.

4). Get new jeans, the time has come my many friends, to talk of many things, like butts and cuts and no doughnuts to squeeze into some jeans!!

5). Go to the movies more..... it's been a really long time since I saw a movie and I feel like I'm about due.

Gaysha Don't Run

Magical Night....Full of Mystery..... Full of Promise...

So.... High Heel Race Recap.

I learned many things last night from my debut as Lady Violet Blossom, DC's Premier Gay-sha, let me share some of my "good choice/bad choice" moments


Running is a bad choice for me, especially in a micro mini, especially in 3 inch spiked heels 2 sizes too small for me, especially when the gentlemen that are actually planning to run look like this.

A good choice was attending a fabulous pre-party gathering with a group of people 90% of whom I had no idea who they were and half of them looked like polo models. Quote of the evening went to a very attractive gentleman whom I believe one of my friends is "entertaining" at the moment....... "When [Lady Violet Blossom] came upstairs I knew what all the other straight guys in the room were thinking, 'why did I just get an erection?' "

A Bad choice was not being prepared for the press, when a reporter for a newspaper came up to me and asked me my name it totally didn't occur to me to say "Lady Violet Blossom" so I gave him the real first name.... and he looked at me like I had a touch of the downs.

A good choice was not falling. Thank you baby jesus for allowing me to stay upright while at the High Heel race last night.

A Bad choice was one gentleman who, while meaning well, after he had his picture taken with me offered me a Pearl Necklace..... upon seeing the look of shock and mild disgust on my face he quickly followed that up with "No No No like an actual necklace, like beads... here!!!" [Insert awkward turtle here]

A good choice was all of the bar-staff having the graciousness to allow me to jump in front of any line I came across last night post race. It was Fuh-Reee-Zing and I heard more than once from people that I was being photographed with "Honey You're Shaking!" No effing kidding I was shaking... I was wearing 1 layer of cotton (the fabric of our lives) and a speedo to keep warm and I've got the body fat of Kate Moss on a diet.

A Bad choice was someone who shall remain nameless throwing me some shade last night because he thought that he was in a position of some importance..... No m'aam, I know what freaky deaky stuff you're down with.... don't mess with me, my wig was big last night.... and full of effing secrets.... I am Gaysha.

A Great Choice was the time I had last night, I took pictures with more people last night than I had in the past year, including several what I figured were immigrant families who must've thought I was some sort of alien. I had a great time before, during, and after the race and saw a bunch of my friends AND I didn't do a walk of shame this morning which would have to have been done in my kimono.... after all..... I am Gaysha.

Friday Five!

1). I may or may not have watched the week of witches on the Disney channel pretty much every night this week. I may or may not be a sucker for said type of really bad B movies. I may or may not have watched the Mary-Kate Ashley Halloween Movie when I was younger and ate it up. This Movie may be my favorite halloween movie from when I was little, I remember it scaring me crapless. PS what ever happened to the show Erie Indiana????

2). I just found out that a teacher from my HS has been friendster-stalking me, EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! Now this teacher was one of two gay teachers in my HS but this one had a "yen" for the asians if you get my drift. He volunteered to be the faculty advisor for the Asian Club which I started, but quickly grew to dislike me because I was visibly uncomfortable that he made up pet names for me and my friends like "tiger." He actually told my sister once after I'd graduated that I was A). A cold person and B). He'd found pictures of me on the internet from an ad I did in London and what did she think about me doing something like that (It was for a party at a club in london whom I happened to be dating one of the investors at the time, you couldn't see any of my no no areas and so what??? also as far as I know the pictures are no longer available) P.S. she said she thought it was awesome and dropped his class.

PPS- After the teacher realized that I wasn't going to be buddy buddy with him he tried to get the other officers of the asian club whom I had appointed to get together and impeach me. Now since I found out about this I was not about to let that happen when I'd founded said club. Therefore I did what any despot would do, I, along with the student council president, wrote a constitution for the club wherein I could not be impeached, and only give up my post as president, not be defeated in future elections..... needless to say I was president for all of high school.... that'll teach em to mess with the Queen.

3). One time in Highschool, in my french class... with only one other student, we had to make a video presentation. We did a lesbian love triangle with someone we recruited who wasn't in our class and didn't have any lines. We thought it was brilliant, it's not like it was some hardcore film, they ever even kissed. Our in the closet teacher thought it was horribly offensive and gave us all C's. Years later I saw him at poodle beach in rehomo with his boyfriend.....mmmhmmm I walked past all scantily clad..... I said hi..... I judged.... I kept walking...

4). As I found out while playing jeopardy last night and trying to figure out how to dull the blinding pain I experience while wearing the high heels I purchased for next weeks high heel race, I realized I am a wealth of useless information. For whatever reason I can correctly identify a portrait of Louis XIV, and name the genus of the nightshade family. I wish I could go on that show and effing clean the eff up. Although I'm pretty sure potent potables would be my downfall.

5). While wasting time before the lovely lineup ABC had on last night of Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy (PS Gray's is UH-MAY-ZING!!!!) (PPS- I'm just saying that if I ever see either McSteamy, McDreamy, Finn, Dr. O'Malley or Dr. Karev ever in real life..... I will strip naked and jump on them right there..... I have absolutely no shame on that issue) I watched Mommy Dearest... best line ever.... "Don't F*ck with me Fellas!!!!!"

5b). Dr. O'Malley is gay!!!! he's just waiting to tell the press about his plans to propose to me... Remeber Dr. O'Malley, my fingers are thin but I can carry a large stone.

Dear Sir..........

Dear Michael Kors,

You should be ashamed of yourself for picking Jeffrey over Uli. Not only do you look like a gay Oompa Loompa and you are forever talking with one hand under your chin, your mother looks like Karl Lagerfeld and you can't seem to wear anything but a black blazer. I want to say that the only saving graces of the show are Ms. Heidi (Auf Wiedersehen) Klum and Tim ("Where's Andrae??") Gunn. And don't even get me started on Nina Garcia, lady looks like someone stuffed a rotten grapefruit up her no no spot from how happy she always looks.

Dear two unnamed friends,

You two should be taken into an alley and shot from the pain I am now feeling which is a result of the class at the gym you "made" me take. However since I'm a glutton for punishment I will be going back god-dammit and hopefully this time I won't fall off the ball and make a scene when my bony butt hit's the floor. Although I will say I was doing better than the old lady wearing a thong. Also, I've finally figured out where all the attractive gay men in DC are hiding, and it's my gym for that class, I plan on leaving a stack of cards with my phone number and restaurant favorites for what I can only imagine will be a long line of suitors who will want to warm me up on what will hopefully in the near future be cold nights.


Dear High Heels,

We are not friends. I have hyper-extended most of my joints at various points in my life, walked en pointe without toe shoes, breaking most of my toes in the process in order to have a nicer toe point, broken both wrists (any limp wristed jokes and I'll cut you), had my flace slammed by a car door and knocked me out, fallen from the equivalent of a 3 story building into a pool of water flat on my back, and slid 15 feet on asphalt on my stomach after having a rollerblading accident. However, nothing is as painful as wearing effing high heels, or maybe I should just get a larger size. The High Heel race is next Tuesday and I'll be damned if I'm not going to put out a good showing..... ps just a little aside..... I don't run.... it's undignified.

yes that's right..... I's a lady

Well, my little sister aka la principessa was home this weekend for fall break so I, being the good older brother aka first born went to the parentals estate friday night way out in the country. Wherein apparently the crazy fairy had visited, for as I walked in the front door and was greeted by my puppy chloe I saw what appeared to be two huge vats of urine on the countertop. After awkwardly staring at these two glass containers, each of which held at least 10 gallons of dark yellow liquid, I called for mumsy-kins to come down and explain her science experiment to me...... what was it you ask??? oh that's right, mumsy and daddykins have added making moonshine to their repertoire of things that they like to do in their free time. Their plan?? to have their lemon-flavored vodka based beverage ready to be bottled by christmas time so that they can give bottles out as christmas gifts to help everyone celebrate the birth of the baby jesus......needless to say I'm going to wait till everyone else has some to make sure it doesn't strike them blind.

After that stunning revelation it was off to sushi for a nice family dinner. Did I mention that my family is incapable of having a nice family dinner? My mom thought this would be a perfect opportunity to discuss..... you may have guessed it..... porn. Apparently she has just found out that people watch porn, especially men, and this was an interesting topic on which she wanted my personal opinion. Do I watch porn? "Sure I've watched porn before" Did my friends watch porn? "Probably, I mean they've got to do something in between eating and sleeping" And when I watched porn did I ever watch heterosexual or lesbian porn because she heard it was quite graphic. I told her I had seen both heterosexual and lesbian porn and that heterosexual porn wasn't that interesting and the best thing about lesbian porn is that the women are always done up so nicely. (I kept the fact to myself that at random gay bars the porn that they played on the televisions is enough to make my eyelashes curl with shock). Then she started asking my dad how much porn he watched and that was when I wanted to take the chopsticks and shove them in my ears till I felt something squishy. We ordered mumsy some wine and she shut it up.

Saturday evening was a night of crazy drunkeness.... which incidentally had nothing to do with me! People mayhaps got drunk and were grabbing other people innappropriately, making out with legitimate senior citizens at blowoff, and maybe doing dance moves from an unamed parker posey movie. I don't judge (who am I kidding?). But whatever I had my lady moment of the evening when I decided that nourishment was what I needed to cap off a very full evening so I decided to get myself a double quarter pounder with cheese and super sized it....and ate it all, it was glorious.

Friday (Five) the thirteenth......oooooooooooooh(scary noise)

1). To this day I still feel uncomfortable standing in front of or near a microwave when it's heating whatever delicious item I am in requirement of. I'm still marginally convinced that to do so will render me either ridden with tumors, mutated so that I can sneeze out of my belly button, or make me grow a horn.

(Actual story, when my grandfather turned 92 he actually started to grow a horn out of his ear, it was actually tissue most closely associated with fingernails but since his DNA had broken down so much his body was going all banana sandwich..... I remember my mom clipping his horn with a pair of nail clippers...... I had to use an emory board on it once.... I kinda wanted to paint it hot pink.... he probably wouldn't have liked that)

2). I'm 80% sure that dogs and cat's and most domestic animals can understand things that people say and then talk about them amongst themselves later. If my dog Chloe aka (HRH la contessa Chloe of DC and MD) lived with me now I wonder what she would tell her friends about my gentlemen callers....

Chloe: Did you see who [Dale] went to dinner with last night? I swear he can do SO much better

Chloe's Dog Friend: Whatever, have you BEEN to the dog park lately?? it aint exactly a buyers market.

Chloe: True but did you see this one's hair??

Chloe's Dog Friend: Don't even get me started, natural hair color my butt.

3). At Christmas when I was little my parents told me that after I went to sleep, all the ornaments on the tree would come alive and play around cuz it was christmas, and then they'd mix up all the ornaments before I woke up and leave one at the foot of my bed to drive the point home. That may have scarred me and I may or may not have had nightmares about the little drummer boy shoving his drum sticks into my eyeball as I dreamt of sugarplums and such.

4). I'm still convinced that if I don't eat rice at least a couple times a week all of a sudden my eyes will go round and my hair will go blonde..... don't laugh at me.... asian people know things, and I aint questioning grandma.

5). When I was very little and learning how to swim some mean-ass big kid told me that the drain at the bottom of the well was there to keep the sharks in their cage. I believed him and went bonkers anyone tried to get me to go in the deep end till I was 7 or 8. I think he has two children out of wedlock and works at Target now...... karma sweet ass karma.

Haiku, because I can

Madge, you not Jolie
Stop Adopting Africans
Adopt me, I'm poor

Blowoff this weekend
Standing in lines for suckers
Make friends with bouncer

Fall season is here
so excited for sweaters
J.Crew is my crack

Halloween is close
No costume ideas yet
I am bad gay man

Lance Bass is a tool
JR's good to kick him out
He should lay off cake

Happy National Coming Out Day

I will not bore everyone with stories of teenage angst, back seats, and the captain of the football team as was my coming out experience. Rather I will leave you with the top ten reasons I'm glad I'm one of the baby jesus's "Chosen People"

10. The ability to watch shows such as Golden Girls, Designing Women, and Roseanne with nary a bit of shame in the world.

9. The wonders of saying inappropriate things in mixed (read: straight people) company and watching them mull over in their heads "was that uncalled for or am I ignorant for not being more sensitive to his gay needs" ...... while I'm talking about how weird it was that my housekeeper found my d*ldo and how we all had a big laugh..... (that was JUST an example, didn't necessarily happen)

8). Rupert Everett

7). The ability to make everyday culinary items into a masterpiece using my vo-gay-bulary. For example, I didn't make shake and bake last night, I made butterflied pork cutlets basted in a bedcrumb and seasoning mixture served baked with assorted blanched greens (frozen green beans), before which I had a wonderful pickled vegetable delicacy (olives out of the jar)

6). Drag Queens, it is my firm belief that every gay person should do drag at least once..... There is nothing in this world that makes you more able to laugh at yourself and be more comfortable in one's skin than doing some drag, even if you do look like a carnie while doing it.

5). Anderson Cooper: Good looking, he's a Vanderbilt for crying out loud!!! Although from what I hear, that lady's a bit too freaky even for me!

4). The ability to be able to have a cocktail at 9 am on a sunday without fear of judgement, and the only question asked is..... what type of vodka would you like?

3). The fantastic ability to be able to relate to people from my lady friends to their jock/meathead boyfriends, I will say that being gay does make you abundantly versatile in the ability to talk to all types of people!!

2). The fear one instills when at a party from the single straight men who are more than aware that two sentences from you and they will not be getting laid by any of the attractive women in the room, most of whom were your friends before the party and all of whom are your friends during.

1). And the best thing I like being gay is......................sex with men..................(Probably expecting something more profound huh?)

Just when you thought everything was peachy

Ok..... So I have as of recently been wearing my contacts to the gym for better or for worse. I'll admit it, I enjoy the eye candy whilst running, working out, stretching, take your pick. Although I will say I do make the most concerted effort not to have roaming eyes in the locker room.

Anyways so I was having a good workout, as one does, a nice run, good stretch, I was hitting my machines and weights the way that I wanted to.

*Aside* I have never been nor will I ever be someone who others mistake for living at a gym, I'm not saying I'm some tub of goo that sits around all the time nor do I look like it, I just don't have veins bulging or arms that could choke a bear, I made my peace with that a LONG time ago and have absolutely no shame about it.

In any event, I'm doing my thing, working out some muscles as one does, and I catch this guy across the room looking at me, so I do the usual...... look directly into his eyes, half smile, and look away and pretend to be REALLY concentrated on either the exercise that I'm doing or whatever happens to be playing on my iPod at that particular moment (it happened to be "I know what boys like", go figure).

Then I look back.... he's still smiling at me. Now this guy is a gentleman whom I would gladly give my contact information to, think 6'5" very attractive, late 20's.

He then saunters over to my machine, so I ever so casually take out my earphone (I'm breezy!) and say "Hey", and he says "Hey my name's [McSweaty]"

And then the bomb drops when he says........

"ummmm by the way do you know you're doing that wrong?"

Not to totally lose my poise and decorum I said, "Oh really? can you show me how to do it correctly? I was a swimmer, some of these machines are wicked foreign to me."

He then showed me how to find an "appropriate weight" and "appropriate use" of the machine in question.

After the tutorial I thanked him and being totally embarassed with thoughts of "hmmm did everyone know I was doing that the wrong way" running through my head I casually walked to the shower, rinsed off the shame, walked home, and may or may not have eaten my weight in peanut butter toast. PS, I'm convinced peanut butter toast solves all things.

Tips.... from me to you.....

This Weekend has all been about the tips..... and I'd like to share some... just from me... to you.

If you go to Vidalia for friday night dinner, don't order the rabbit pot pie, it is legitimately in a pie dish. I ate about half of it and then gave my dad who was across the table from me the "eyes are bigger than my stomach but I still want to eat some of your desert" face. Also, apparently my parents don't understand the terms "no" and "alcohol" in the same sentence. After declining the pre dinner martini and telling my parents I was going to cool it down for a hot minute, my mom said "that's ok, you'll just have wine with dinner"...... these people both have doctorate degrees, you'd think this would be easier to understand.

If you do an AIDS walk on a saturday morning when it's gross outside here are a couple tips.... 1). Dunkin Donuts is always a good choice 2). If, like me, you wore track pants, a hoodie, and a poncho all from your alma mater and you get wet, you will look like a wet fruit of whatever color you're wearing, in my case, cranberry. 3). I feel it's inappropriate to have a DJ from what I could only assume was cobalt at the rally beforehand 4). I'm pretty sure Eleanor Holmes-Norton was drunk when she was giving her ra ra sis boom bah speech. 5). I walked from AdMo to Freedom Plaza, the three mile loop and all the way back.... I walked over 8 miles.... I obviously rule hardcore.

Spending an icky saturday afternoon watching TV, baking pies/fantastic dinner, and hanging out with friends is a great pick me up and a great way to recharge for the night ahead.

Tip for the straight guys out there.... just because I'm gay does NOT mean I want to meet your gay friend whom I would obviously be PERFECT for just because we both like to S*ck D*ck. I'm just going to put it out there but to assume makes an ASS out of U and ME.

Karma is a b*tch, if you go to a party wherein several marines show up that have the combined IQ of a grapefruit and one of whom refers to you as the F*g, just hold tight and wait, especially if they're hornier than a prisoner at the Ms. America pagaeant. Said offender after I heard him referring to me as said F*g, fell down a flight of stairs, got rebuffed by every person with a vagina in the room, and trying to be a cool guy with his tobacco chew, spit a nice long line of ick juice down his right sleeve of his white shirt..... what a winner.

If you're playing drinking games with said Marines (and you're drinking naught but coca cola and they can't hold whatever vile substance they're passing around) and you're playing "Kings" and Questions comes up... it is perfectly fine to stare these uber heterosexual giants in the face and ask things like "so what's up with don't ask don't tell?" or "so do you guys take turns effing each other or is it more of a flipping coin thing?"

I'm at work on columbus day.... my commute was dreamy but the fact that I'm not a federal employee with the day off is anything but.

It's not me..... it's you

Another installment from the Dale school of etiquette for the gay over-financed and under-fabulous...... how to break up with someone.

Now break-ups need only be termed as someone with whom you've been dating, not screwing, for more than a month. Any socialization that is based primarily on sex isn't dating, unless the sex happened after the second date and is always prefaced by a meal and cocktails. Anything else is termed just "socializing" and no formal goodbye is needed to end such liasions, just the inability to pick up phone calls/texts and the inability to recognize the other's presence in a public place.

Now onto the breakup.

First things first, don't be that guy, do it in person. Unless you are out of the country for an extended period of time do it in person. Karma's a b*tch and it will come round to bite you in the bum. Besides, doing it in person denotes a modicum of feeling toward the gentleman being let go from your organization even if said feeling has withered and died like Paula Abdul's singing career.

Secondly, don't do it over a meal. Doing it over a meal will force you to be with this person for an extended and usually awkward period of time, besides it will detrimentally affect your appetite. Oh and don't include large amounts of alcohol into the mix, then the chances of your spilling some tid bit become higher like....... "you know the way your [insert anatomy here] is really oddly shaped"....... I prefer a coffee shop or patio, cocktails are fine just don't overdo.

Thirdly, look them straight in the eye when you're laying down the law, you aren't embarassed, you shouldn't be ashamed, you're doing what you need to do. Besides if you're already looking them in the eye they can't pull the... "Just look me in the eye and say you don't care for me anymore" routine. That line always makes me laugh and that REALLY didn't go over well.

Fourthly, don't bring ANYONE elses name into the conversation, the situation, be it for whatever reason, has to do with you and the gentleman caller. If there is someone else involved (i.e. cheating) always refer to them using pronouns and never names.

Fifthly, don't use cliches, there are specific reasons why you are doing what you're doing, and unless they involve some freaky deaky-ness there's no reason to not share them, who knows, it might help [insert name of gentleman] later in the future.

Sixthly, don't involve in physical contact, that sends mixed messages and I've always found that a hands in the lap, legs under the chair approach was good.... the more formal the more the point will be driven home.

Seventhly, pay for yourself, whatever he offers you, don't accept it, you need to be unfettered by his advances and that won't happen if you let him pick up the last tab. Finish your cocktail/coffee, don't gulp it, thank him and wish him well and be on your way.

These tips might seem cold and hard, and maybe they are, the truth hurts, but a clean break beats messy and sticky any day of the week and twice on sunday.

*I would just like to offer a big EFF you to President Pervez Musharraf for ruining my enjoyable rooftop dinner with all those damn helicopters overhead in my neighborhood. It was a glorious night and I was enjoying a fabulous home cooked meal on a glorious fall night and all of a sudden I was in the middle of a bad Cops show. I can deal with being stuck behind Cheney near the Ritz in a motorcade but I mean come ON.....***

Well I never!!!

Apparently I'm reaching even the trailer parks of West Virginia with this here blog. This morning I got the wonderful gift of this suprise as a comment which was posted this morning to something I'd written in June and, while it wasn't Chaucer it wasn't exactly a Tom of Finland comic either....

"EAT A DICK YOU FAGGOT LOSER. TOO MUCH SPARE TIME AND JUST WAISTED TWO MINS OF MY LIFE. I HATE YOU FOR THAT YOU DEAD SHIT"

Now let's discuss shall we.

1). I have never nor will I ever EAT a d*ck.... whomever told you what homosexual men do in bed must have gotten their info from a baaaad source, as far as I know the majority of gay population enjoy their d*cks and enjoy whomever they choose to socialize with having them as well. Therefore it would be counterproductive for us to be eating each other's d*cks and thus decreasing the amount of d*cks to go around.

2). "TOO MUCH SPARE TIME", are you referring to my spare time for writing the blog or your spare time for reading it?? As far as I know nobody forced you to sit down and read what this F*ggot has to say.

3). I WAISTED two minutes of your time?? First of all I don't think I've "waisted" anything in my entire life, is that something you do to your possums before you fricasee them?

4). Even if I had wASted two minutes of your life, I'm pretty sure sitting down and practicing your hooked on phonics with something other than sounding out BUD-WEI-SER from your trucker cap before you started your shift at the truck yard will do you wonders later on in life when you have to sound out the words PA-TER-NI-TY after you have sex with your cousin.

5). I HATE YOU FOR THAT YOU DEAD SHIT. Big words cowboy, now let me say that nowhere in my body hates you for what you wrote, it doesn't reflect badly upon me nor does it make me even mad at you, honestly I feel bad for you that you spent the time and effort to focus on my peoples and hate on them. I don't have the time or energy to hate you, I have more important things to think about..... like happy hour or belly button lint. And death threats?? why don't you walk around in my neighborhood, Dupont, Logan, hell even Cap. Hill and say that stuff, I know a few muscle queens getting out of WSC, Results, Vida, etc. that would just ADORE to discuss with you the merits of your face meeting concrete/fist. Oh and lady I'm from DC, don't bring that mess up in my house.

6). Now as HRH Dale of Ad-Mo/Dupontia I refuse to stoop to such crude levels in order to express my disdain for such displays of communication. However I will say this having never met you.....

• writing in all caps is so 7th grade
• honestly find another hobby, I hear macrame is making a HUGE comeback
  
• and finally, if all else fails, take a wine bottle, smash top of the neck so it's all nice and pointy, and sit on it.... cuz I'm not the kid you called a F*g in middle school and I'll cut a b*tch.