How Fucked is That?

So, I'm on Staten Island. The libraries are okay, but the video collection is nothing like Elmhurst, Queens. We have like two rows of DVD's here in Richmondtown, a branch they spent gazillions to make.
Making my way through the assortment, it is weird because there will be like 2 each of "Chuck and Buck" and like 2 each of that horrid John Waters movie with Melanie Griffith out of like, 100 films total. Anyway, there was this movie with a couple of guys running together on a beach on the cover and it boasted an adline of "...once their secret was told.." I was thinking cool, a G&L Film Festival straight (ha) to DVD movie. No stars ( except if you include Hume Cronin) but it could be cool. The movie is called, "A separate Peace".
I watched the movie and it was pretty good and then I found out from reading the box cover that it happened to have been a well received book and one that young boys read (when they use to read). The movie starred this guy Toby Moore who looked exactly like Hillary Swank it was uncanny. I mean, any casting agent would flip if they got to meet this guy, he could nab a great gig like miles did on 'Fraser' after DHP's agent sent a picture to Kelsey Grammers' people. And this kid Tobey Moore's character was, it seemed to me, going to make a pass @ any one of the main characters any second if you counted on my Gaydar (which is usually very acute) but I'm sure the director wanted it that way. Well the secret that the box proclaimed turned out to be that one of the guys jumped on a tree branch which forced the Swanker Doppleganger to fall and end his 'sports career' but their friendship remained. Whatever.
The same night, dying from boredom and frustration I rewatched 'Sideways' which I had only seen once before when I had consumed a bottle of Skyy Vodka that I found in the garage on a shelf at my friend's house while I was having a cigarette and she and her lover were getting it on. How does one have a bottle of Skyy sitting on a shelf with the extension cords. I don't know. Suffice to say, I did not remember ONE scene while I was rewatching it.
So, the resolution of the movie is happening. Giamatti's character is back at his teaching position and the class is reading a book. The book they are reading from is, "A Separate Peace."

Jaime Lynn Siegler, Sean Puffy Combs (and mom), Lenny Kravitz, David Blaine and Petra Namkova invite you to

...the opening of a safty pin

"Standing in the shower, thinking"

I'm still living on a tightrope as far as employment goes. The Hamptons gig requires me to take the train out there again this coming Saturday to meet with the owners; one of whom I heard was a Baldwin. Cripes, I hope is not Stephan, Billy or Danial. I'd even take a Baldwin sister besides those characters. Did ja know that the train ride from Penn Station to Amaganset is 3 plus hours? I could have flew to fricking Florida. Factor into that that I am coming from Staten Island, we are talking a 10 hour round trip. Yeah, I know. I could have been in Europe at my Hotel salivating over the mini bar. We'll see. This gig actually will provide me with enough euros to do that once the summer ends and me and Kelly Ripa are just like this.
I was going to discontinue the comments section for good. My Email is always available (go to my profile), but the fucking spammers are inundating my site. Actually it seems to be the same two over and over. Bart's site (go to Summer Reading below, left) is full of them in the comments section but his are more perverted. Damon and Hunter turned them off as well.

Those crazy fucking Asians and their Surgical Masks

What the hell is up with that? Do you live in NYC or San Fran.? Why do I always see these Asian people with surgical masks on? Don't they feel like morons? Would they perhaps like to live in the event that all us NY' ers were annihilated? Is it because they have Bird flu running rampant in their own little communities back east or is it because they skeeve the 'ugly Americans'? See, I've seen this before Bird Flu, and when I googled an Image of "Asian with Surgical Mask" all I got was some chick on ER or Chicago Hope with a mask on their chin. This morning I left my (Mothers) house at 6 am, and the first person I see is some wacko Asian dude with a surgie on his face. I was like, "Well, I just shut off NPR about 12 minutes ago, I know they would have told me if Indian Point blew the Fuck up.
What a bunch of whacko's. And, not for nothing but all the bird and human flu's start in their Continent.

P.S. My PC kind of died. Sorry for slagging in the entries department.

Daily Mind Blower

So, right now I am reading "Cosmopolis" by Don Dilillo. I'm also trying to go through all the shit I have at my mothers house which I have been hoarding there. It's lots of Video's and Books and Magazines basically. I've been going through the Magazines one by one, because either I wanted to save something in one of them or I just never got around to reading it. I picked up the first one the other night and on the first inside page was an ad for "Cosmopolis".

Did 'ja have to, did 'ja have to let it Linger

There is no question about the fact that the guys in Staten Island are probably the best looking guys in the state. Yet, what they have in looks seem to take away in two-fold what they should have as far as being in the 21 st century. Plain and Simple, they are troglodytes. Their manners, their actions, Their Dress Code and their 'city' smarts. If you happen to bed a Staten Island guy, (male or female who are reading this) he is likely to sport a Bikini wax job on his pubes or have shaved legs or armpits or (gasp) both. They just don't have a clue. I'd hate to say that (like the Red States) their hero is Dale Ernhart , but; Opie and Anthony (NYC radio dickheads) or Vin Diesel would give you a clue.
Staten Island guys love being in their cars. Listening to the latest Z100 Wigger Music and driving fast. It's a lot like Los Angeles here. No one walks; unless you are homeless or a prostitute (I've been both here, actually <--- Not a hooker in the real sense but...Well, that will be a different entry).
Staten Island Guys cruise other guys. BIG TIME. I don't know if they are all myopic or if they think you might be their cousin (Everyone on Staten Island has the 6 degrees of seperation thing going on), but they cruise. They probably don't know it is called cruising because that aspect of the gay vernacular has not crept into this borough (hence the shaved areas, the mega hair products, the gossipyness) yet, like so many other gay crossover idiosyncracies.
Yesterday I got cruised big time by this youngish guy in his Acura. I swore I was not going to break the 'faux staredown/jerk off fest' that was happening and I didn't. He finally looked away, and the comic strip bubble over his head seemed to say, "jeez, I think I like guys".

What about the other 2%

I'm 98% sure I'll be managing this restaurant in The Hamptons this summer. It should make for great reading material for you guys, since the restaurants web site boasts in their PR corner a Who's Who of A, B and C list clients that dine here during the summer. I'm going to have to keep really juicy tidbits (if any) on the Blind Item Side though. I'll be getting free housing which helps a lot and will provide me with a big enough nest egg to play with once the summer is over. Determining if I will stay in Manhattan or move to Amsterdam ( always a great place for a recovering addict!). I know I can keep my sobriety in check because I WANT this job. I'm not just pandering by taking any shitty job that I need to get by so I could quit the following week. I aggressively pursued this position and it feels good to be a contender because I am very worthy.

Welcome to My World

So, I have this BIG interview tomorrow in Amaganset (The Hamptons). Interview is at 4 pm. Closest train arriving is at 2 pm. The next departing train for Penn Station (or anywhere for that matter) is 6 1/2 hours later @ 10:27 pm.

"like a liar on a witch trial; you look good for your age"

Okay...timelines in place. I liked Hole months before I heard of Nirvana. In fact, glancing back at my concert tickets I 'may' have seen Nirvana when they opened for The screamingly Trees at the Beacon. But they did not register until I was introduced to Courtney and Hole. I had heard this song 'Teenage Whore' on a college station and I remember wandering all around Hoboken (A Distant Land...oooh) looking for this record store that sold this 45. I started scouring every music magazine for info on her because I thought she was the balls and she sounded like Joan Jett. That's when I read that she was dating Kurt. It seems that Kurt's band 'Nirvana' were coming out with their debut ( I know, "Bleach" was their debut), their major debut, 'Nevermind' on my birthday, Sept. 24th. I was like, cool. Introduced to another great Indie (big word then) band. I ended up liking Nirvana and Hole in both different realms but also avidly.

Fast Forward to 2004/05 when I was MIA when Courtney's Solo "America's Sweetheart" came out. I was in the first of two Rehab's (go figure). I read the reviews but was either unable to purchase or in a place unable. Either way, I picked it up a month or so ago and I fucking dug it. I loved the three power chords, I loved the rasp/scratch in her voice and I loved the 'never forget my life, I can't move on yet' lyrics.
Yesterday I googled an Album Review Site which listed 45 of the Major Publications of Music Journalism and their subsequent reviews of all albums. I punched in Courtney, hoping to read supportive views of an album I missed, and to see what they said about at least 8 of the songs that I totally love. What I got was this. "This album is so over produced..., her voice sucks..., the lyrics are the same from the last two 'Hole' albums..., yadda yadda yadda.
Fuck!
Last time I seek out a second opinion.

Everybody Say FromUnder Cheese

This is one of my best friends; Carol. We have known each other for close to 24 years! (We met when we were three!!) I have not seen her in about ten years until today-Cool. (Click for a better view of her hand...and her body; she just had twins).

Happy Easter. 

SNL's Gay Problem

So, Pearl Jam was on SNL this weekend, which broke me out of my non-tv cycle and I actually sat down to watch something. Maybe I'm an oversensative fag, but in like 7 sketches that I sat through, I would say six of them had some kind of gay slur/gag/non funny type sub plot. Are the 'Brokeback' jokes not finished yet? Did two skits require a reference to this? Are the writers so young and unsure of their own sexuality (the writers are 95% male) that this is the only punchline that can be inserted to a skit that is going nowhere to begin with. Shit, last I looked (listened) at least the obese were getting picked on just as equally. Now, there are no fat jokes, no black, asian or latino gags. No, Red State jokes. Oh, a couple of skank ho jokes but thats because skank could probably still get a chuckle out of the immature crowd. I just can't place the era of when this started but since I have been a faithful viewer of SNL til about last season, I'd have to date it back to it's inception with Eddie Murphy (now that's calling the kettle black) but not really hitting it's peak until about 8 years ago. It's pathetic that these skits get into the show to begin with since they have usually two weeks between shows to actually think of something funny.

The Cruise

Remember this freak from those suicides a couple of years back? They were called the 'Heavens Gate Suicides' and this Bozo was there leader. Well, I caught about five minutes of the Tom Cruise interview with Diane LickAsser Sawyer last night and I really and truely believe that Tom is in need of #1) Anything resembling a real person and #2) He should just quit show business. If this guy would just give up the spotlight he would not have to do interviews. Fuck it, all he has to do is not spend 200 gazillion fucking dollars on bullshit mega movies and then he wouldn't have to worry about the return to his pockets and the Scientologists deeper ones. Remember when Travolta had a mini return to favor a few years ago after Pulp Fiction? Go on IMDB and notice how many movies he grabbed and stuffed his fat face with and also to pay off those hefty Scientologists and the lover he had in Hawaii for years before he married Beardy Preston. As #1 from above, this guy does not have a genuine bone in his body. He is so programmed and insincere and so phony it is see through, yet is it? That hardy har har laugh and cutsie introspective thoughtlike pose (touches forehead) just sicken me. I know Mickey, change the channel. Well, it's hard to do that when your in someone else's home and the wifey is watching it.

UPDATE: CLICK ON AARON'S LINK ON MY PAGE FOR SOME REALLY CREDIBLE GOSSIP RE: THE CRUISER

Hecho en Mexico

I heard a great soundbite regarding this whole deportation of millions of illegal aliens from a rally in Los Angeles yesterday. "Of the 19 hijackers from September 11th, none were named Velasquez, Medina, Lopez or Gonzales. Yet when I look at the names on the BODY BAGS coming back from Iraq, I see the names Valasquez, Medina, Lopez and Gonzales."

Black Don't Crack and beans don't burn on the grill

This Bernadette Stanis now. She was Thelma on "Good Times" and I had a big crush on her. This would cause my my Archie Bunker like biological father raise his hand to me, as if to say, "I'll kill you if you ever..." Wonder how he'd feel now that I date (read:plow) guys.

Personal Ad Requirement Part II

Must accompany me to at least 3/4 of all Catherine Keener films made per year (exceeds five some years).

Wow...He's got a Muse to boot

When I worked in L.A. @ Largo we would get so many solitions from neer do wells in the music industry. It ran the gamut from struggling artists with great if not poorly written plea's to let them play there to PR people sending faxes with their flavor of the months new foray into music and begging/demanding we have them play there.
One hotshot at the moment was the brother of one of the most powerful agents in Los Angeles. His name was Rick Yorn. His brother Pete, was at the time this struggling, spoiled musician. Flanagan booked Pete based solely I think on this starfucker quality (being a starfucker himself) and the fact that at The Viper Room; Pete Yorn attracted a crowd. I believe Pete had done a few gigs before I joined Largo, so as usual I was the one to let the musicians in while they rehearsed and had a sound check as I did my afternoon duties in the office.
L.A. is kinda weird in the way that you may see someone you completely fall head over heals in love with, but they are in a car and you do not know if they are from 3 hours up the coast going on an audition or if they are your next door neighbor. Every hottie you see is in a car. So when I opened the back door to Largo that day I thought I was in hottie heaven. This is the guy I fall in love with basically every single day who is driving some 85' Bronco looking hot. I was like (upon glancing at his bandmates), 'do these fuckers gather in clusters?' Bronco convention?
The nights he played were uneventful. Mounds of wanna be's and frequent Leo sightings (his bro's client) and 1,000's of Cosmo's and bad tips. The music was marginally reproductive from whatever was on the charts. Pete Yorn, gorgeous Nose and all was quite the disappointment.
About a year ago I noticed Pete all over the place. I figured it was the Power Machinations of the brothers' relationships to all things Leno and the press.
I was in my favorite overpriced Thrift Store the other day when I noticed that all CD's were a buck. I was checking out the soundtrack to the movie "Orange County" and noticed a tune by Joe Henry (who happens to be Madonna's Bro in law), who also played at Largo and who never disappointed, and I figured "hey, I'll pay abuck for this song" as well as a song from Dave Grohl and then one from Pete Yorn and Wilco.
I downloaded and entered them into my shuffle. One song kept on coming on my shuffle that I could not quite identify it's author, yet I fucking loved it, and I would replay and blast and replay again. The song is called "Lose You" and it is by Pete Yorn. It is fucking awesome.

HEY!!! Dickbag

you are what? 35, 37? Yeah, lose the skateboard. That goes for you too, tree hugging Vegan chick on your Razor Scooter. You look like an asshole, okay?

I see you everywhere

That thumping that you hear is my heart pounding. I fucking saw him again.
This is so fucking retarded. (Sorry retarts).
In 1986 I met Anthony. I was staying @ my Moms for a bit while I regrouped. I had just lived in Holland for 3 months and I was saving money to either move back there or bolt to somewhere else. I took a job at this Mafiosa place near her new house in (gasp) N.J.
We were all training because the place was about to open and then he walked in. He was like a Greek god, I kid you not. He was so fucking gorgeous that I missed about an hour of the training because I was so insecure about myself sitting near him. I fixed my shirt...tucked, untucked. I smoothed my hair (yeah, I had it then), I crossed and uncrossed my legs so much you would think the ferry was beneath them. I stared.
When the training was over I found out that he was a busboy. I left and jacked off as soon as I dropped my girlfriend Claire home.
The next day at training he came in late again. I had kind of forgotten to situate myself near him and get a good seat to ogle as I was trapped in a corner deuce on the patio. Someone pulled up and he got out of the car that sped away. He walked in, surveyed all the empty seats and sat next to me. (cont.)

Grey Gardens- The Home Version

At this moment of this day I am residing with my mother here in Staten Island. There is nothing sadder than a late thirties dude living with his mother (goodbye Craigs List Hostings) yet I give myself somewhat of an immunity to feeling completely like a loser because I moved out at 16 and 1/2 when I went to college and have only used her domiciles since then as 'hostels' (yet quite hostile at times) or dumping grounds for my accumulated magazines and books and journals and shit from every stomping ground I decided to leave in favor of one in a better state or country.
I love my mother, don't get me wrong. I actually hold her in the highest regard of women. At one point holding her in such high regard that when someone asked me why I was not dating or serious with someone, I would tell them that no female I have met could hold a candle to my mom. By the way, "Meet my 'Best Friend' Brian".
I am my Mom. I believe in Genetics solely based upon the slim chances that one boy out of four could get every ailment and physical trait that he has watched his mother suffer through, only years later. I got the good and I got the bad. By the way, I'm the one who innocently squealed to her that 'some lady' sends 'daddy' cards and he hangs them in his store. I was nine and my maliciousness had not yet been fully formed.
So, here we are living in this 3 room and it is FREAKING UNBEARABLE. I'm too old for this shit. And that's why some of my previous posts are reflecting how I am so friggin sorry for the mistakes of my past.
"Mick...American Idol is on".
"Mah!", I scream back like a Gavone, "I never watched American Idol in my life. Why are you asking me to watch this shit."
Yet, she is so inviting. I can't refuse. I light a cigerette and go join my Momma.