Leatherman

Timmy is hosting at Mr. Black tomorrow night, so I went with him to Leatherman in the West Village today to buy assless chaps for him to wear. Here are the three best things I found:

A porno called "Can Opener." (HAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!)
A fisting-sized dildo shaped like a large skyscraper that was called "Rump Tower."
A comic book series called Demonicsex, which is all about buff dudes who turn into devils and werewolves and bone each other.

Guess which one I bought? Hint: it was NOT the second one.

God Tube???

Love in Action, that fucked up straight camp I checked myself into last year for a story, is reaching out to more churches to spread their message. Just to be clear, Love in Action doesn't claim that they can "cure" homosexuality, just that they can free people from "bondage" (heh)
and make them men and and women of God. Here's a list of the latest churches and organizations to align themselves with LIA:
Pleasant Hill Baptist Church in Olive Branch, MS
Audubon Park Baptist Church in Memphis, TN
Sold Out Ministries (National, you can find all sorts of stuff about them on www.godtube.com. They do a lot of interviews with NFL players).
Cross Way Church in Bartlett, TN
World Overcomers Church, Memphis, TN

I'm so embarrassed that my home state is such a hotbed for these closet cases. But don't let that ever stop you from visiting Pigeon Forge. I still have a cigarette case from the Hank Williams Jr. museum that I bought there when I was a teeeeeeen.

Ahem

In light of Hilary Duff's dad being sent to jail, I'd just like to remind you all that back in December of 2006, I was THE VERY FIRST writer ever to uncover and reveal the sad circumstances of her practically estranged father.
Service journalism, at its finest. You're welcome.

Restless, Anxious

Not sure what is going on with me today but I'm feeling super angsty and restless. I can't get any work done, despite a looming deadline. I could go to the gym and work this out but I think I'm just going to pop a Kloni and go buy these boots instead.
Gay gay gay.
And yes, I recognize this as "addictive behavior."

N

One of the 187,654,362,874 reasons why I love my little sister:

"How do you explain that at 5:00 every day, you feel as if your heart might burst and the world shatters into a thousand thin blades of glass that lacerate your gut and make you want to fling yourself weeping from somewhere high to something flat, hard, and unyielding, so as to explode the pressure once and for all? Sometimes i feel as if i might just burst into flames, i feel my chest burning with a slow embryonic ember heat that howls to claw its way free and expose itself to the oxygen ignition. There are people with one long, endless scream going on within them and those are the ones my blood responds to and my instinct insect ticks towards, invisible scent on the wind unrelated to intelligence or common belief. It’s a sense apart from the animal and a part of the animal simultaneously somehow. I suppose it’s what makes me love some complete assholes, and other soft-spoken gentle people with bombs secretly ticking inside them, people with switchblade fury, no morality, or such morality that they hold it like a torch in front of them burning directly from their blood. they come from all paths, all corners, and you recognize them by the fact that they don’t give a fuck, or care too much in the world’s eyes. The possessors of a permanent, chronic fever of the soul."

Henceforth, a Blogue

As some of you know, I got my career started at Interview magazine back in the mid-90s, so I've been watching their regime change with great interest. Ingrid Sischy and Sandy Brant had a pretty bizarre influence on my late adolescence, and I basically worship Fabion Baron. The new September issue is pretty fucking great. My only problem with it was that every single designer they picked for their "Non-conformists" piece was a man, but other then that personal annoyance, it's a great read, especially the interviews with Gardar Eide Einarsson, Kate Moss and this guy, who I am now totally obsessed with.
But the BEST part of the issue is Glenn O'Brien's brilliant way of dealing with Anna Wintour's distaste of the word blog. He refers to them as blogues.
Fucking. Genius.

Exercise in Abject Narcissism

When I was at rehab, one of my friends who was house sitting confessed that while I was away, he had accidentally stumbled across something on my computer that made him extremely uncomfortable. I cursed myself for not deleting the Plushie porn after downloading it, but it turns out his discovery was even worse.
He had opened my iPhoto and saw the 500-odd portraits I had taken of myself back during the initial Friendster and Myspace craze. I was mortified, AM STILL mortified, but I figure it's better to face these things head on. So, I give to you a video montage of my early internet social networking self-images. I wish I could claim that these photos were a pre-planned project to see how I'd grown since 2002, but no, each one was purely a ploy to try and land a boyfriend. I threw in some gory stuff from my pill-induced break down period in there too, so be warned. There will be blood. Oh, and I also set it to some time period appropriate Luxx/Berliniamsburg music. Enjoy, or be horrified.