Never Fade

Guess who's back in the motherfucking house?!

Me.

It looks like I might be back for a short trip to New York on the 31st of October after a weekend in Provincetown.

Knowing that I'll be spending time with my EX on Halloween, and then seeing my New York bitch pack has lifted my spirt so high- higher than all of the anxities, self-doubts, and dark thoughts.

White Lines

In the August issue of Seventeen, Kelly Osbourne talked about her recent stint in rehab, and comments upon the prevalence of drug use among the celebrity set.

"I just want to let people know that if you think any of these blonde bombshells
aren't drug addicts, trust me, they are because I've done drugs with them. I'm
not going to name names because that's not fair, but we all are. I think it's
part of being young, being famous, being insecure with what's happening to you,
and just wanting to be accepted by the people you hang out with."

So lets get beyond the embarrasing notion that I occasionally read teen chick mags that I get free at work.

Reading Ms. Osborne's words, I was thrown back to my drug-addled life in New York. The countless number of nights spent getting high at my bar job, and party-hopping with my posse of boys, and how more often than not, it seemed that every gay Manhattanite was open to snorting some sort of white powder. Nightlife is very heavily centered around drugs, especially cocaine, and I found it increasingly hard to navigate New York's club scene without being offered various powders and pills.

Although there were plenty of times I was glad to accept the offers, the drugs were one of the reasons I decided it was imperative to quit working in bars and needed to leave New York. I didn't want to be strung out anymore. And I didn't want to waste my entire youth in Discotheque listening to Junior. There's gotta be more to life than a bump and making out in the bathroom of Crobar, right?! I mean, thats all some queens have been doing for years, and to them (& and a reminder to myself) I say: fucking expand your horizons ladies. Drop the vial of K and make sure you don't let the drugs prevent you from living life outside of nightlife.

I've been mulling this stuff over in my head lately because it just occured to me how sober my life is now-- and how disconnected I am from any nightlife scene here in LA. I'm surprisingly very content with that- although I will readily admit- I miss the promises of casual drunken/high sex and the VIP status that came with being a party boy.

So it was sorta funny when I read Towleroad's blog and read Boy George's recent arrest for cocaine possession and falsely reporting a burgalry in his Nolita apartment.
I don't know whether or not to feel sorry for the guy.
He presumably called the cops for some reason, forgot to hide his stash of blow, and then got arrested for the whole thing- sounds very messy. Mental note: don't ever call cops when I have a kilo of coke in the apartment.

I'm off to do some holistic organic zen thing- or whatever the fuck a sober-ish person is supposed to do in LA.

Fuck it. I'm going to find my xanax.

The Good Fight to Own A Home

In light of the constant housing bubble talk, this article from the LA Times on poor Mexican families buying their first homes outside of Mexico City really puts things in perspective.

Carlos Hernandez Pineda, a new homebuyer, is featured in the article. He commutes 5 hours a day and works 12 hour shifts, but that commute is worth it for him. Because he finally owns a house- something unheard for the working poor of Mexico His home is only 328 square feet.

"At least we're not throwing away money on rent," said the 38-year-old, who
shares the dwelling with his wife, mother-in-law, twin daughters and pet dog
Guero, whose name is Spanish for Whitey. "This is an
inheritance for our girls."

The article goes on to make the interesting point. Will these communities of pint-sized housing appreciate in value? Or will they become the new barrios of Mexico City?

Why I Love Jake

Jake's hot. Jake's buff, and he's not afraid to be seen hanging out with the gays.

He's inherited Johnny Depp's knack for choosing edgy good roles that provide him with genuine hipster appeal.

Mr. Gyllenhaal garnered a cult following with Donnie Darko, followed it up with the critically acclaimed Good Girl, and is now going to take it up the ass from Heath in Brokeback Mountain. And this after playing a marine in Jarhead...
It's all too much for this horny boy to take!

JAKE's THE SHIT! Take a big whiff.

Pop pop that thing...

I had a bit of a random night tonight, and ended up being dragged to Rage- this ridiculously tacky type of gay bar that plays pop dance remixes. Lots of synthetic fabrics and blonde highlights. Total horror show.

But they played Christinia Milian's Dip It Low video. I had completely forgotten about the Lolita soft porn video- that features a bikini-clad Milian being spun around in grease by a room full of men.

The video's fairly raunchy- scenes of Milian undresing are intercut with animation of a flower opening up its petals- and I find it exhilirating. Why am a gay man, do I love hot slutty girls?

I think I secretly want to be one.

Check out the video here. (You might need to have a Yahoo Account)

It's Been A Long Time...

Who's not cut out to be a blogger?! ME, bitches.

I've been way too busy with work and the general BS that goes along with life to write.

But here's a recap for the few friends that take the time every now and then to read this. In the past few months I've come to the realizations that:


1) As I had originally thought, ME and Fag Hags don't mix. I don't like strange co-dependent relationships where my time is manipulated by some needy fat chick who can't stand being alone. In fact, fag hags bug the fuck out of me, and I found myself being mean to the one I was hanging out with. I'm not proud of that. It's not cool to be mean to someone just becuase you find them annoying. (It's loads of fun, but it makes for very bad karma) So I decided to check out of that friendship.

2) You can have too many friends. Having moved to LA, I've met a lot of people. Most of them retarded lame-asses with no real ambitions other than bar-hopping and gym routines. I'm starting to value my lone time more than hanging out with a bunch of socially-stunted gays with the mentalities of high school girls.


That said... I think the biggest differences between LA and NY so far have been:

1) Driving. Duh. Totally sucks when youre used to downing a dirty ketel martini with a couple xanax. That doesn't really work when you have to get your car from valet, sit behind the wheel, and navigate the streets of LA- where I swear everyones drinking and driving.
2) The people. I'm sure there are great brillant ambitious people in this city. I've met several, but they're diffused in this sea of half-witted wannabes who seem to comprise the majority of the young demographic in this city. There's not the pulse of intelligentsia that reverbs through Manhattan, and a lot of that has to do with the entertainment industry. The museums here suck, the LA Times is a piece of shit, and people tend to know more about the new fall TV line-up than Bush's current foreign policy. So yeah, LA people are tacky dipshits with ugly clothes.

So yes, I'm moving back to New York sooner than later. In the meantime, I am enjoying LA despite my greivances.

I'm off to the gym and beach now. Ta ta.