In which the blogger reminds himself to turn his phone on vibrate

Yes. That's a cell phone. In his ass.

In which the blogger reminds his readers that to be proud does not mean to be an asshole

Gay Pride 2008.

I've been thinking a lot about this weekend in the past weeks. Last year did not go so well for me, but I have found that I'm moving past the fear that this festival of celebration is really just an excuse for gay men to get as publically drunk as possible, conduct themselves outside the boundaries of common consideration, and take as many liberties as they can with as many people as possible.

Okay, I'm moving slowly past. And that's something I'm proud of.

I mean, since when have gay men in Chicago needed an excuse to act like fools in public? Have you been to Roscoe's lately?

There are a lot of people in the community who use Pride as a big middle finger to the rest of the city, a "We're here, we're queer, FUCK YOU!". Soak in gallons of alcohol, set aflame. That's...wrong. Why not "We're here, we're queer, COME PARTY WITH US!"...? Granted, this mentality certainly exists, but unfortunately, the public eye tends to gaze on those of us who are falling drunk out of windows and stalking around drugged out of our heads, shirts off and cocks out. Personally, I don't appreciate that image. It's my blog, deal with it. Sure, it's part of the reality, but it doesn't constitute the entire reality, and Pride is no excuse to blur the lines this much. How long does it take to clean up that image once the streamers are swept up and the rainbows are put away til next year? There are plenty of ways to kick the shit out of yourself on this, a sacred holiday, having as much crazy fun as possible, without becoming that asshole at Pride. I can't instruct others on how they can make that happen. But for me, there are some rules:

1. Have fun! There's a lot of it to be had, and it's even better cause it's in the streets, in the sun, with an open container!
2. Hands off my boyfriend! I don't care if it's Pride, Christmas, Zombie Jesus Day, Market Days, Kwanzaa, whatever. Respect.
3. Be safe! It's totally possible to start drinking at 9 am and not end up in a gutter, or in the police station, or (and please, please, God forbid) with an STD. Use your fucking head.
4. Wear glitter! You've wanted to all year. Now's your chance, Mary.
5. Bring straight people! This is a big one. How tired am I of gay men and women who want acceptance and equality but insist upon putting up velvet ropes (or iron gates)? Sure, this is our day, but you know...as an opressed demographic, as people who are routinely discriminated against, as a minority, we have to do things a little better than the straight folks do if we expect to receive the same rights It's fucked, but it's true. That means including them and (hopefully) removing some of that nasty stigma. Oh, and stop trying to convert them. It ain't gonna happen, no matter how pathetic you become. Just trust me on this one.
6. Focus on your friends! Celebration on this scale requires you pay each other the props you deserve. No more ruined Prides, no more Pride drama, because Hot Guy #28 didn't look at you, but checked out your friend Why does everything have to be about hooking up?!?!?!?. That's...that's just stupid.
7. Be yourself! That's what this is about. Even if "yourself" is a drugged-out idiot -- keep it to yourself and we'll have no problems.

I'll be the one in the Boy Scout shirt with the sleeves ripped off, Den 3. Roundabouts Broadway and Buckingham. Happy Pride!

In which the blogger just needs to share something with you

I wouldn't normally do this, but I need to know this has been brought to my reader's attention. Courtesy of Duchess of Dork
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"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...



Truck balls.

Truck balls, if you didn't already know, are these pretend testicles that you hang off of your bumper. I've been seeing them more and more, lately. At first, I thought it was cute. I mean, I laughed. Seriously. Truck balls?? Who'd do something like that?? Someone super awesome must do it.

Yeah, not so much. It's mostly a redneck fad, and I see them the further South I go. I don't know why I don't like this. See, I love rednecks. I find them endearing. I mean, sure they can be racist and sexist and severely homophobic... but in their own little way, they're also adorable. Middle to lower class workin' men and women, just tryin' t'get by, while listening to country music and driving trucks with plastic balls.

Are the balls supposed to represent manliness? I'm sure that they buy them as jokes. I mean shoot, they're funny to look at. But when it comes down to it, why? Why is it so needed? Why is some guy shelling out $10 for a pair of fake balls to put on his truck, if it was only for a 5 minute gag? Why do I see them everywhere? Is it some sort of conspiracy? A redneck fad? Are we so obsessed with masculinity that we need to showcase our reproductive organs on our giant gas-guzzling vehicles?

Or maybe I'm overthinking this. Likely it's just a bunch of guys that went, "Heh! Truck balls!" and bought a pair.

I thought about what Sunstreaker would look with some, and realized how artsy I was, because seriously.. I'd give that boy some golden pubes in the same color as his paint job. Make that shit look realistic. If my car's gonna have balls, they're gonna be HIS balls! But sadly, I doubt the idea will come into fruition. It just doesn't seem like a wise investment at the current time."

In which the blogger thanks God for sacri-licious pastries

VIDEO: Jamie Cullum, "All At Sea"

(kind of my song at the moment)

In which the blogger and his friend, a woman more evil than even he, text a catastrophic plan

Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: They WANT drama. Just tell them some people actually hate phony suck-ups, so knock it off and worry only about you.
Felix Bedingfield: This is all true.
Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: Easier answer than my issues.
Felix Bedingfield: If only we had a Death Star.
Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: That would be awesome.
Felix Bedingfield: My friend is an architect. Perhaps he can help.
Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: It's a start, but he won't be much use for weapons.
Felix Bedingfield: I bet Katie could help us with that. We just need a huge sock and $200,000,000,000,000 in quarters...
Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: I love it!
Felix Bedingfield: That just leaves the whole space thing.
Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: I'm sure we can work that out.
Felix Bedingfield: Got it. We need a billion two-liters of Coke and around 40,000 cases of Mentos for initial lift off. Once we get free of gravity it's cake.
Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: We'll hijack a Mentos truck and stage a takeover at a Coke plant.
Felix Bedingfield: ...I think this could work.
Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: It's beginning to sound like a real plan.
Felix Bedingfield: With this universal mayhem machine, we can finally address those pesky issues you've been having with the Universe.
Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: FINALLY.
Felix Bedingfield: Yay.
Felix Bedingfield: I'll be putting this on the blog, you know.
Countess Bunny Hoppinmad: Might want to leave out the word "hijack".

In which the blogger gets a craving for that fatty emulsion that, evidently, makes British kids fat

Heinz Pulls Mayonnaise Ad over Gay Kiss Furor

A mayonnaise ad that shows two men kissing has been withdrawn from television after 200 viewers complained that it was offensive.




Heinz, which makes the New York Deli Mayo featured in the commercial, pulled the advertisement less than a week into its expected five week run, in response to the criticism.

Viewers told the Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) that the ad was inappropriate and unsuitable for children to see. The ASA has not yet decided whether to launch an investigation.
Heinz apologised for any offence caused.

"It is our policy to listen to consumers. We recognise that some consumers raised concerns over the content of the ad and this prompted our decision to withdraw it," said Nigel Dickie, director of corporate affairs for Heinz UK.

"The advertisement, part of a short-run campaign, was intended to be humorous and we apologise to anyone who felt offended."

The ad is set in a family kitchen, where, instead of an apron-clad mum, a brawny New York short-order chef is preparing the kids' packed lunches.

Viewers see the children address him as "Mum" as he hands over their sandwiches, but when their father starts to leave for work, the chef calls him back and gruffly demands: "Ain't ya forgettin' something?" The father smiles, and plants a kiss on the side of his mouth.

"Love ya! Straight home from work, sweet cheeks," the chef calls after him.

AMV BBDO, the advertising agency which made the ad, said that the idea was that the product "tastes as if you have your own New York deli man in your kitchen".

It is the first TV commercial that the agency has produced for Heinz since winning the food manufacturer's £10m-a-year advertising contract earlier this year.

Heinz said that it decided to withdraw the TV commercial last week, and that it was no longer on air as of Friday.

It is understood that the commercial was not shown during children's television programming, because of new rules from Ofcom that restrict ads for products high in fat, salt and sugar.

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This is...ridiculous. I can't even get riled up about it. I'm trying. There's a jar of mayonnaise in my fridge at home that I would smash with my Righteous Gay Hammer of Truth (I got it when I signed up)...if it weren't so creamy and delicious. The only important thing mentioned in this entire article is that the UK doesn't air commercials for shitty food during peak kid TV hours. Maybe some of them are homophobes, but they're taking better care of their kids. They should let the commercial air. Then those kids can grow up into lean, well-adjusted gay men and women. With accents.

In related news, some people don't have enough to worry about: A Petition to Re-instate the Heinz Deli Mayo Ad

I'm all for political activism, but I'm picking my battles. Besides, a gay mayonnaise ad just presents too many hilarious semen jokes.

In which the blogger takes a moment to notice how nice it is to not feel so heavy

It was that strange twilight hour, you know? That really slim period of time between dusk and darkness, when the sky is just as deep and bright as the lights on lampposts. 60 degrees, along Lakeshore Drive so there was a bit of wind and humidity. I was walking home from the bus last night, having left an extremely busy and long day at work, and I realized: I was content.

That's a big deal for me.

Jamie Cullum's All At Sea was playing on my iPod, and I had been humming along for minutes straight, probably. Dogs pranced past, runners huffed on by, cars didn't seem as loud as normal. A mother with a stroller even rudely bustled too close and forced me to step into the grass, except this time...I didn't care! No rolling my eyes, no heavy sighing, and I didn't even have the urge to hurl my water bottle at her head. No creepy old men or pathetic twinks cruised me along the sidewalk, for once. My feet didn't hurt. I wasn't hurrying to get anywhere, cause it would all be there when I arrived.

It was like the world had aligned for a few moments to allow me a really pleasant walk home on a summer evening.

I woke up in a sweat that night, having had an intensely upsetting nightmare about the same thing I always have nightmares about. It was hard for me to get back to sleep after, like usual.

Still, I'm really happy about the walk home.

VIDEO: The Bird Poltergeist

(I find this very metaphorical...)

"The highly coordinated movements of flocks of birds or schools of fish are among the most fascinating phenomena to be found in nature. The group seems to turn and maneuver as a single unit, changing direction almost instantaneously, leading some researchers to hypothesize that electromagnetic communication or even "thought transference" must be involved. In reality this behavior results from far less mysterious causes. Such movements are a prime example of emergent behavior: the behavior is not a property of any individual bird, but rather emerges as a property of the group itself. There is no leader, no overall control; instead the flock's movements are determined by the moment-by-moment decisions of individual birds, following simple rules in response to interactions with their neighbors in the flock.

When flocks are not under attack, but instead leaving a roost site to go to a feeding area, they may also swerve back and forth apparently aimlessly, because random movements by single individuals can easily generate changes in direction. However, eventually a sort of consensus will develop based on the motivation of the majority of the flock members, and the flock will fly off to its destination in a fairly direct manner."

In which the blogger proves to his readers that he's not a bitch; he's just more evolved

Sarcasm Seen as Evolutionary Survival Skill

Meredith F. Small
LiveScience's Human Nature Columnist
LiveScience.com Fri Jun 20, 9:45 AM ET

Humans are fundamentally social animals. Our social nature means that we interact with each other in positive, friendly ways, and it also means we know how to manipulate others in a very negative way.

Neurophysiologist Katherine Rankin at the University of California, San Francisco, has also recently discovered that sarcasm, which is both positively funny and negatively nasty, plays an important part in human social interaction.

So what?
I mean really, who cares?
Oh for God's sake. Don't you have anything better to do that read this column?

According to Dr. Rankin, if you didn't get the sarcastic tone of the previous sentences you must have some damage to your parahippocampal gyrus which is located in the right brain. People with dementia, or head injuries in that area, often lose the ability to pick up on sarcasm, and so they don't respond in a socially appropriate ways.

Presumably, this is a pathology, which in turn suggests that sarcasm is part of human nature and probably an evolutionarily good thing.

How might something so, well, sarcastic as sarcasm, be part of the human social toolbox?

Evolutionary biologists claim that sociality is what has made humans such a successful species. We are masters at what anthropologists and others call "social intelligence." We recognize and keep track of hundreds of relationships, and we easily distinguish between enemies and friends.

More important, we run our lives by social calculation. A favor is mentally recorded and paid back, sometimes many years later. Likewise, insults are marked down on the mental score card in indelible ink. And we are constantly bickering and making up, even with people we love.

Sarcasm, then, is a verbal hammer that connects people in both a negative and positive way. We know that sense of humor is important to relationships; if someone doesn't get your jokes, they aren't likely to be your friend (or at least that's my bottom line about friendship). Sarcasm is simply humor's dark side, and it would be just as disconcerting if a friend didn't get your snide remarks.

It's also easy to imagine how sarcasm might be selected over time as evolutionarily crucial. Imagine two ancient humans running across the savannah with a hungry lion in pursuit. One guy says to the other, "Are we having fun yet?" and the other just looks blank and stops to figure out what in the world his pal meant by that remark. End of friendship, end of one guy's contribution to the future of the human gene pool.

Fast forward a few million years and the network of human relationships is wider and more complex, and just as important to survival. The corporate chairman throws out a sarcastic remark and those who "get" it laugh, smile, and gain favor. In the same way, if the chair never makes a remark, sarcastic people are making them behind his or her back, forming a clique by their mutually negative, but funny, comments. Either way, sarcasm plays a role in making and breaking alliances and friendship.

Thanks goodness, because life without out sarcasm would be a dull and way too nice place to be, if you ask me.