The holy funny.

I was doing an open mic last night and something fantastic happened that totally blind sided me. One of the earlier comics talked about Stephen Hawking's proposal to time travel by manipulating the theory of relativity, and I wrote a joke about it on a whim. I went up a good hour after said comic left, but I decided I was going to tell the joke I wrote in response to his earlier bit, despite the fact that he was gone. Due to my unyielding fear of bit stealing, I won't retell the joke exactly. But to make a long story short, I told a joke that I thought of one way, but the audience took it a totally different way, and this misunderstanding just made the joke THAT much more hilarious. I told a joke that I was expecting to be a 6 or 7, but unintentionally turned it into gold. The feeling that I experienced afterward was nothing short of bliss. This is why I love comedy. Moments of sheer joy for the audience and the performer spring forward out of nothingness, and the world seems brighter.

I read once that the universe is mostly composed of darkness and space, and that light from stars, galaxies, and novas is quite few and far between. I feel like comedy is an Earthbound reflection of that. Our days are composed of monotony and social expectations, but comedy comes along and makes light out of nowhere.

I apologize for the hippidy-dippity wording here, but in all honesty, having that happen to me was like a religious experience. I felt like sharing.

French Safe Sex Commercial

I don't think the French get being gay.

This commercial does not convey the importance of safe sex to me. To me, this commercial says "if you're a boyish looking transient whore, and you get the life beaten out of you, you'll find the man of your dreams (spoiler alert! He'll be a doctor, too!)"

Maybe this is just my frustration talking. Sometimes I feel like the queer equivalent to the self righteous neo-feminist archetype who has to find social issues in EVERYTHING. It stems from not feeling represented; from not fitting in within your own minority. Gays go apeshit when it comes to labeling things. Top, bottom, vers, fem, masculine, bear, chub, cub, twink, otter, jock, musclebear, Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, Miranda, the list goes on. Everything has to have its own place; its own hierarchy and organizational ideology. And yes, labeling exists elsewhere in the world, but I feel like gays put an unusual amount of stock in the labels they've created within their own community. Tops are assertive, bears are nasty in bed, twinks are bitches, jocks are shallow, are all assumptions popularly made by being associated with a certain label. What I want to know is how much of it is based on honest trends in a subcultures behavior, and how much of it is a self fulfilled prophecy created to fit into a niche culture.

And I suppose what makes me even more frustrated with all this nonsense, is that 90% of all these labels are based off of the body. As a kid with body issues, being judged and categorized on my body type is a sensitive subject. Even after I lost a significant amount of weight as a teenager, I still knew that the likelihood of me ever being shirtless on the cover of Men's Health was on par with monkeys flying out of my butt. But rather than let this get me down, I did the next best thing. I began sculpting my mind into something to be desired; something unique and fresh that most may not expect. And for a while I was really happy with my results. Even though the rough impact of colliding with the real world made me temporarily relaps into a state of bitterness, I bounced back. But now that I'm congealing into an adult form, I'm seeing more clearly, day by day, that all of that work doesn't really matter to 90% of those who share my sexuality. So now I'm just the funny, kinda fat, gay friend, who is scared to death of being associated with the likes of this:



Do you see the distinction?

For all the labels the gay community can dish out, there doesn't seem to be one for me. And I really pity those who choose to live their lives within the perimeters of a label.

Don't be a fool. And wrap your tool.

Sir Patrick Stewart of Alderaan.

Queen Elizabeth: Sorry, Stewart. Star Wars FTW.

This is the second time I've posted a photoshopped picture of an old woman wielding a legendary sword. If I can get one of Venessa Redgrave holding the Narsil I'll die a happy man. I'd also settle for Dame Maggie Smith pulling out The Master Sword.

In honor of Rue's passing, I'm going to send some truth to ya'll...

Betty White for the WIN.

I'm actually weeping on the inside. Blanche was my second favorite Golden Girl. I'm going to have to take off work when Betty White dies. I'll walk around all day and night with sunglasses on and put black vales over my mirrors. I'll have to buy an extra session with my therapist (If I can afford a therapist by then). I don't care. Its going to be the worst.

RIP Rue. We never met, so its totally inappropriate for me to be on a first name basis with you. That is all.

This isn't what I ordered.

I give mad props to McDonalds for reaching out to the gay community. And they did it in a tasteful way. I'm glad that they scrapped my idea of having a Big Mac strapped in a leather harness dancing to "Sandstorm" because that would've just been silly. However, I can't help but feel that this ad campaign is ham-handed. I think there are a lot more subtle, classy ways of marketing McDonalds to gays.

Before I get into anything else, I need to say something directly to McDonalds: "You're fighting a lost cause. No, gay rights is not a lost cause, but thinking gays will eat McDonalds at all is just a pipe dream. We know you're trying really hard to impress us, but it is just not going to work out. You can sit with us at the lunch table, but you can't speak to us. You just have way to many carbs and saturated fats to be our friend."

Phew. I'm glad that awkward conversation is over. Back to my criticism of the commercial, I just think it could've been done differently. Maybe its because I had it relatively easy in terms of coming out. My Mom has always been incredibly supportive, there was no rift created when I came out, and I felt secure about my sexuality. There was never a "I'm straight, but maybe I'm gay" moment. I always knew I liked boys. The turning point came when I found out that liking boys was frowned upon, and that was when I went in the closet. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm over it. I'm over the media dramatizing the "coming out" moment or the "not telling" moments that come with being gay. Its as if the world thinks that's all gay people do with their time: coming out to their family members and complaining about being discriminated against. If McDonalds really wants to get progressive with gay audiences, they need to do what "Modern Family" and "Caprica" are doing. Number 1, they're showing gay FAMILIES. Number 2, they're showing gay people in situations that aren't defined by their gayness. Its like the test that lesbian made up in the 70s to see if a movie is progressive towards women; not feminist, just progressive. John August mentioned it on his blog recently. It says that the movie needs to star at least two women, those two women need to have spoken to one another, and what they spoke of needs to be something other than a man. Like how movies tend to make female characters driven by the needs of men, movies/TV have tended to make gay characters driven by the needs of sex or acceptance.

Also, just from a narrative stand point, this commercial is just CLUNKY. Why does the guy have a class picture out at McDonalds? Is this 8x10 just something he carries around with him when he goes to McDonalds with his Dad? Also, how does the Dad go from grabbing his french fries to talking about his "glory days" as a ladies man and how HE could've been a ladies man if only he hadn't gone to an all boys school? Its just an inorganic twist and I don't like it. I'm more geared to hate on the commercial for its clunky dialogue than its clunky concept. For a gay FRENCH commericial you'd think it'd at least be witty. But no.

And he eat the poo poo!

I love this guy, because he is basically doing all the work for me. I could not have written a better parody of him or his ridiculous cause. No one could. Stuff like this is too genius for words.

Also, last time I checked, straight people were into scat play as well. It was two women starring in the infamous Two Girls One Cup. I mean, even though I was in a self induced coma at the time, watching the computer screen via my astral form because it was too much for my body to handle, I still didn't see two men doing that shit. Literally. I'm also 99.9% sure that the Cleveland Steamer, Glass Bottom Boat, and Alaskan Pipeline were invented straight people. Whenever I watched Real Sex on HBO, it was always some creepy couple from Nevada that was always into the risky poopy, bloody, bondagey play. It was never the happy gay couple down the street who just wants to shop at J. Crew in peace. The world is made up of a heterosexual majority. Where do you think we learned our crazy anal sex play from? Ancient homosexual hieroglyphics? Or is it somehow engraved into our Queer DNA to eat poo poo? Seriously. Who pooped in the gene pool?

Yes, poop is unfortunately a part of being gay because anal sex happens more often than with straight couples (even though straight couples do it too, god damn it!). And I'm not going to dive into how poop isn't always the case when anal sex is involved when the right precautions are taken. The crux of this guy's argument against homosexuality is POOP! A 1940's comedian would be the first to say that "this guys argument STINKS!" This guy literally sat around for hours crafting this argument, masturbat- I mean- researching, gay sex acts with an emphasis on "da poo poo." This is his life! I mean, how funny is that?!

As funny as this video is, there is an element of terror that I feel as well. Its an uncouth mix of immature chuckles about "da poo poo" and nervous giggles trying to diffuse the creeping fear I have in my heart over knowing that people like this live on the planet. Storm would be ashamed of you.

Let's just pretend I'm good at this.

http://io9.com/5549613/the-last-thing-spider+man-should-be-is-another-white-guy

When I first saw this article, I assumed the worst. And by the worst, I mean an uppity, overly sensitive bitch and moan session about how Marvel is racist for not drag and dropping an African American in the Spidey-suit. But I was pleasantly surprised by this article because it brought up an excellent point. Peter Parker was never a character defined by his whiteness. He is a character who is defined by the people he cares about, and the choices he makes to protect them. Spider-Man's biggest weakness was Peter Parker's greatest strength; his ability to love, and hold onto those relationships that mean something to him. Peter's refusal of the Superhero Sacrifice is what makes that book. And I'm pretty sure I'd go see that movie reboot whether Aunt May is cooking chicken casserole, tamales, or collard greens. On that note, I think they should cast racially blind and just see who who captures that snark we've come to expect from Spider-Man. That was what was really missing from Toby Maguire's "performance." Bottom line, I don't care what race the rebooted Spider-Man is, I just hope they get an actor who doesn't have this face in his repertoire.



I'm working two internships. One is with a Hollywood director and I'm unsure about saying his name on public forums such as this. And its not a testament to his fame or anything, he's C-List at best. I just know that he's vain enough to google himself regularly and the last thing I want is for him to find his name on my donk-and-poney blog where I regale my legions of fans with tales of getting his prescriptions for Valtrex filled (That's a pill for when you get the herps, FYI). Overall, I'm not learning much at that internship. It mostly consists of me sitting in the kitchen with the other two interns scouring the internet for images that coincide with director projects he wants to work on. He also has had me read a couple scripts and do coverage, and let me tell ya, I know I'm not the greatest writer on Earth, but God damn. If these scripts are indicative of the work done by paid, Hollywood writers, then I'm going to take this town by storm in less than five years. Let me explain. This is not a testament to my amazing writing style or unique voice; its a testament to the horrible material I've seen swirl around the toilet that is this town. If I read one more haunted house script about a woman being haunted by a creepy little girl ghost, I'm going to go bat-shit insane.

My second internship is at a prominent reality TV production company. I'm really enjoying my time at this internship, actually. Its a busy office and I'm learning a lot. The people are super friendly and down to Earth, and when I'm not doing little tasks around the office for people I'm watching TV and writing coverage about what I see.

I'm slowly widdleing away at my savings, so I'm only going to keep up this "no pay work" thing for a month or two longer. Until then I'm keeping myself busy. Totally overbooking yourself is a fantastic way to forget you're sprinting towards debt.