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Tuesday, December 31

 
Happy New Year





Kissing you - deeply.

To life...

Sunday, December 29

 
My Brain vs. The Software = Music

Here (in wma form) or here (in mp3 form) is a new ditty I've thrown together, just in time for New Year's. I thought it would be nice to give my friends an original party number...in advance return for all the event comps & free drugs I happily expect to receive this Tuesday.

In case you're one of either those aforementioned friends or are actually interested in the process, the composition of bobo simple, ampheta-house music is not as bobo simple as it might seem. In fact, it feels somewhat like being a character in a Kafka novel. First, you 'compose' the music - and not on an 'instrument' per se, but on your powerful, uncrash-able antiseptic computer, with a program of the type illustrated below ::



This is called a "tracker program" - in this case, MadTracker2 - and, basically, the idea is that you place - "track" - every & any note/noise/sample you wish at the precise, algebraically correct point within this large pattern. Kind of like a loom for sounds, but instead of tacky hippy granola carpetting, you end up with very techy-sounding music. I always "track" with a bottle of codeine nearby, because the resulting migraines can be debilitating.

After you've produced your little masterpiece, you then have to break the whole thing down into little teeny tracks and remix the assorted parts (17, for the tune linked above) back together in a - duh - "mixer". I use Ntrack, the simplest screen of which is displayed below ::



The trick is knowing when to stop; there are so many effects that can be wrought through mixing, that it is very easy to completely disfigure your orginal idea in a matter of minutes. Then you go through this whole compressing/decompressing ordeal, then "mixing it down", and finally, deciding which of the 6 competing formats through which you'd like to showcase your piece....which becomes moot, anyways, since you end up recording in all six versions out of worry that one may yield hidden advantages somewhere down the way.

This entire exercise in obssessive-compulsive overkill is significantly hindered by the fact that you can never, ever strike or otherwise attempt to maim your computer out of postal-level frustration as you would, say, a nearby cat....like I said, if you ever want to "track" music, keep the analgesics close at hand.

Now you know why Moby always looks like shit.

Friday, December 27

 
NEW YEAR, OLD RESOLUTIONS


"You don't get older, you get better"

uh-huh....yeah, well, anyways: here are some tentative resolutions I've compiled which, I believe, are likely to keep me in lots of out of trouble over the next year. I swear to the Gods of Self Improvement that I shall -

//1. Go out more. Hey - I already achieved this one!! Where's my Bucky Beaver Badge?

//2. Promote world peace. Everybody please say either "please don't hit me, 'cause I'd wanna hug you instead" or "caring is sharing, and sharing is caring" repeatedly to a stranger, downtown, for a minute......There. Done. Next.

//3. Formulate & maintain a whole new, positive view of myself & those around me. Kidding!! Where's your head at?

//4. Make amends to all those with whom I have had conflicts over the past year. Hold on - can't do that - I had them all killed.

//5. Make amends to all those in T.O's 'Gay Ghetto' with whom I have had conflicts over the past year. But guys - we simply can't get this one off the ground if everyone insists on going to a different bathhouse every saturday night...once again, to confirm :: it's St. Mark's Spa, yonge & wellesley, 4:00 a.m. - when I'm there, I'm THERE, if you know what I mean - OK?

//6. Get a small, yappy dog. It'll be a she, and she be named 'Mercedes', and she won't need food or walking (I'm sure there's a breed somewhere...) and this entire pet trip will last about a week, if my track record with cats & people is any predictor.

//7. Become financially solvent. drug dealing, sex industry, job job - ok, that leaves Terrorism.

//8. Learn to channel my anger at everything in better ways. And HOW the FUCK am I SUPPOSED to do THAT, Freud?

//9. Make it a personal priority to deepen my encounters with others. Duh - I guess that means I need to ask guys their names first.

//10. Rely on others more. So what's my motivation for this scene, anways?

//11. Be more open to the possibility of love, in all it's forms. Great. As long as it's under 2 weeks and I don't get a rash.

//12. Eat better. Does this include switching to lighter brand of cigarette?

Wow, Personal Goals. I feel a Motivational Speech coming on....

Thursday, December 26

 
Guess What I got For X-mas?


A camera, obviously. If anyone out there with a degree in Civil Engineering would care to explain it's myriad features to me, I would be ever so grateful - this little Canon is far more intelligent than I am.

Anyways. I am indulging myself - this one time, forgive me - by posting, today, a few pics from my actual, non-cyber life.

Below is the requisite still-in-bed vanity portrait ::

Hi, there - just leave the money on the table, OK?

Here's a shot of my sister, in a "mood", taken & posted without her permission ::



This is my house. Some day, I'll burn to death here, because it's entirely made of wood, I smoke with abandon and there are no fire detectors ::



As soon as I learn how to use this thing, I'll focus instead on inebriated friends, fuck buddies & car crashes - promise.


Wednesday, December 25

 
Your Favourite Santa

Merry Christmas. Here's a Santa you'll hardly ever see - read this to find out why..




Monday, December 23

 
BLOGGING IN A PERFECT WORLD

I would kill to be able to write like this.

Sunday, December 22

 
The Weekend - Monosyllabic Version.

Highs

:: Peter - Sweet man, lucious cappucino skin, muscles you could bite for days. Sometimes, the passive & gentle vibe is so sexy.

:: Omar - The Boy was right on time, if you know what I mean. Graciously accepted my hard line against formal attachments, but made telling case, at the same time, for unoffical engagements. I think God is trying to tell me something.

:: Margaret Cho - Oh My God is she funny.

:: AfterAfter party at The Barn - Imagine dancing with 20 of your closest crackhead friends to brutal, techy house spun by the city's best (unknown) DJ (Jamal) in what looks like a rec room for leather boys. At 10 a.m., Sunday morning.

:: Charming Goth fags - Approached me on Saturday Night (Fly) to ask if I knew how to 'break dance'. I said no, and that I had left my cardboard remnants at home. They told me they thought this was "fucking hliarious". So, we became instant friends and shared jokes & substances in the bathroom for the following 3 delirious hours. I forget their names.

:: Dale - almost as funny as Ms Cho.

:: Megan's new egg-shell blue couch from Urban Mode - upholstered in smooth, stiff nylon, this couch has to be seen to be believed. For a piece of furniture, it's downright exciting.

:: Free clothes from Fashion Forward Friends - thanks, Colin.

:: Free tickets for New Year's Party at Guvernment from Decor Director Friends - thanks, Shane.


Lows

:: Random acts of violence - I punched Megan's BF (the Cuban Stripper) in the face, by total accident, hard. I actually clocked the guy, he fell down, it was shocking and horrible. But, Jesus - I never knew I was in possession of such a mighty upper jab. And Colin said I looked fabulous throughout.

:: Witnessing 2 pedophiles come to blows over hapless street kid right in the middle of Church Street - Beyond sordid, it was all about who paid first for the child's services. I said "child". Only fight I've ever seen where bystanders & I wanted both participants to lose. I called the police instead.

:: Financial ruin - did not recieve the financial windfall I had been counting on. If you're going to cancel, the least you could do is to call. OK?

:: GHB - I've decided, after this mini-coma I withstood at the bathouse Friday night, that I really don't like the stuff. At least I woke up with the same guy.



Now, I'm off to sleep - I just I hope I remember how.



Friday, December 20

 
What's Wrong With This Horoscope?

Normally, I like this voyant. Recently, however, I've noticed that some of his projections have been, uh, whack-y.

Like what, for example, am I supposed to make of this ::

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Happy Holy Daze, Libra! What could
you do to make yourself more swashbuckling in 2003? What
new influences will encourage you to leap into the surprising
adventures that'll often be available in the coming months? I
suggest that you ask for or give yourself holiday gifts that will
inspire you in this direction. How about a scale model of a pirate
ship for your home altar, for instance? Or maybe a sword-and-
sorcery role-playing game like Dungeons and Dragons? The best
gift of all might be a posable action figure made in your image.
Think you can swing that?


Who am I - Errol Fucking Flynn?

I mean, I categorically avoid people who create & maintain home altars....shades of nam myo ho ren gay kyo, spelt addicts and please-join-our-baby-eating-cult. And no self-respecting Libra would be caught dead commissioning an action figure in their likeness. That's just so bloody Sagittarian.....

What's the world coming to if you can't even trust your own astrologer?

Wednesday, December 18

 
I'm not ready for the future quite yet...





Have we, as a society, truly considered the implications of Human Genome Cloning?

Wow - according to my mail, we have. Especially if it involves Alexis & Dominique.

Tuesday, December 17

 
What Do You Get When You Fall In Love?

A Big Fucking Headache, that's what. Long story. It's Personal. Nevermind.

Anyways, the following form a cross section of what I'm currently dancing around the house to at this very moment -

:: Creamy Dreamy Funky Shit

:: LaLa Lounge Funky Shit

:: Funky Funky Shit

:: Tweaky Funky Shit

Prancing as fast as I can - sort of.



Monday, December 16

 


Here are action shots (taken with the Barbie tm Cam, of course) of the tree I assembled & decorated yesterday. This year, I ended up with a 'Low Key Glamour" theme for my Tannenbaum, seeing as how friends & family loudly rejected my earlier ideas for a "Percocet Christmas" (tree lying on it's side, Winona figurines, lights-made-out-of-empty-pill-bottles... you get the picture.)

Cards are in the mail; booze has been bought; gifts are on lay-away; stuffing has been ordered from the Scottish butcher (incredibly good, with sausage); I know who & what I'm doing on New Year's...

How have I managed to become so organized all of a sudden?

Saturday, December 14

 
The Holidays, Suicide & You

No, this isn't a creepy post about how I'm gonna off myself unless you send me money STAT. I'll leave that for Dan, although, truth be told, suicide did not figure into his extortionate plans to get your money (but...in retrospect....perhaps it should have. He is a moron and I resent disingenuous pleas intensely.)

Rather, it's inspired by all those sweet boys whose names begin with "K" who find themselves, once again, submerging rapidly into an emotional morass of emptiness, repeating despair & unrelenting doubt. Guys? It barely needs repeating - but this funk you're experiencing is, of course, due to the impending arrival of Christmas, a holiday which, despite it's veneer of Materialistic Joy, is really about all the things you don't have but that society says you should.

But that's besides the point...

The point is, Episodic Depression need not be a bad thing. In fact, it can be wrought into art, either beautiful or campy or both. Particularly, when left in the deft vocal care of two of my favourite padded-cell artists - Peggy Lee...

Goes well with Vodka.

and Joy Division

Goes well with Heroin

Miss Lee's Stoli-soaked rendition of her Tikki-lounge lament, Is That All There Is? is unforgettable, as it's both extremely funny AND extremely depressing at the same time. If you are, as I am, wont to hum to yourself in public, be careful with this ditty - overhearing bystanders are likely to think you are a lunatic. Here are the lyrics ::

SPOKEN:
I remember when I was a very little girl, our house caught on fire.
I'll never forget the look on my father's face as he gathered me up
in his arms and raced through the burning building out to the pavement.
I stood there shivering in my pajamas and watched the whole world go up in flames.
And when it was all over I said to myself, "Is that all there is to a fire"

SUNG:
Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

SPOKEN:
And when I was 12 years old, my father took me to a circus, the greatest show on earth.
There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears.
And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads.
And so I sat there watching the marvelous spectacle.
I had the feeling that something was missing.
I don't know what, but when it was over,
I said to myself, "is that all there is to a circus?

SUNG:
Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

SPOKEN:
Then I fell in love, head over heels in love, with the most wonderful boy in the world.
We would take long walks by the river or just sit for hours gazing into each other's eyes.
We were so very much in love.
Then one day he went away and I thought I'd die, but I didn't,
and when I didn't I said to myself, "is that all there is to love?"

SUNG:
Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing

SPOKEN:
I know what you must be saying to yourselves,
if that's the way she feels about it why doesn't she just end it all?
Oh, no, not me. I'm in no hurry for that final disappointment,
for I know just as well as I'm standing here talking to you,
when that final moment comes and I'm breathing my lst breath, I'll be saying to myself

SUNG:
Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is


Waiter? Miss Lee just fell off her chair and would like another round, please.

Now, to Joy Division. Most of you youngin's may not be familiar with this troupe from Manchester (which begat the considerably perkier New Order), but, basically, they are responsible for some of Punkdoms' most enduringly bleak and beautiful music. Love Will Tear Us Apart, which was released shortly before the lead singer killed himself, makes Portishead seem like a Spirit Squad, albeit a slightly troubled one. I fucking love Joy Division.

Here's a short sample (my server's full, honey - buy your own copy) of one of the less scratchy versions.

So, there you go, fellas - things aren't all that bad.....or, rather, they are, but at least you're in good company.
I mean, what if one day you woke up and Kathy Lee Gifford was sympatico to your soul....

In that case - wouldn't you really want to die?


Friday, December 13

 
The 12 Steps to Christmas




Yeah, I'm Jewish - but we've always celebrated Christmas as well. Here are some things I've learned...

1. Figure out how many sick days you can reasonably take between now & christmas without raising the ire of your boss. TIP :: Research new & deadly forms of quick-acting cancer. Nobody, besides a republican, would dare doubt a cancer victim.

2. Resign yourself to the fact that, in all honesty, you can't really bake, so those homemade cran-cherry-crunch bars you'd fantasized about giving everyone in a fit of home-spun domesticity are actually a bad idea. TIP :: Real friends don't give other friends gifts which make them fat.

3. Resign yourself to the fact that, in all honesty, no-one ever meets the love of their life at christmas parties, so those daring push-me-down-and-go-out-with-me outfits you'd fantasized about debuting in a few weeks are actually a bad idea. TIP :: Don't despair - New Years is a different story, altogether.

4. Construct tangled web of lies & deceit concerning your sordid personal life before you are thrust, front & centre, into that treacherous lion pit euphemistically termed "The Family X-mas Dinner". Aunt Gretchen just saw this documentary on A & E about Bondage & Domination and she can't wait to ask if you are familiar with such behaviour - in front of everyone. TIP :: Be prepared to ask Aunt Gretchen, sotto voce, if she has picked a nursing home yet.

5. Pick your intra-familial holiday wars carefully...simply put - so many grudges, so little time. Grind only your heaviest axes. TIP :: Parents are getting a lot smarter, so screaming that your therapist blamed your Dad for x trauma in the past, which is the reason for the y financial problem right now, so why can't they just give you z dollars immmediately, isn't gonna wash. You're better off sticking with the Holiday Cancer Theme, as mentioned above.

6. Don't bother attempting to debrief your BF's/Gf's re: your family's mental health status - it will just make those poor partners even more nervous than they already are. Plus, on x-mas day, they might clue into the fact that you share your parents' gene pool - and, thus, may start to look at you differently. TIP :: Simply smile benevolently, like nothing's happening, when mother goes off about her pathologically ungrateful children. You can always get back at her later.

7. Don't tell your family that you're going out clubbing right after dinner. They won't get it. They won't understand why you and your "Special Friend" don't want to hear the same embarassing "And he wet his bed until he was 12" story fourteen times over. TIP :: Get "Special Friend" to pretend he's on call - you'll get to leave, and they'll think he's a doctor.

8. If you have any Bi-Polar friends, turn off your phone from the 23rd to the 27th, inclusive. Remember, you just don't have time to deal with their shit this year. TIP :: For some, Lorazepam makes a great stocking stuffer.

9. If you are one of those Bi-Polar friends, stock up on porn, chardonnay and twinkies now. No-one cares about you, and you're going to be all alone anyways, so you might as well get the most bang for your buck from the waves of self-pity you will be experiencing shortly. TIP :: There is no helpful tip for you.

10. Call your ex's and wish them seasons' greetings. It's the right thing to do, and, besides, it gives you moral leverage for all the run-ins you'll have with them next year. TIP :: If they start to gloat over the shiny new life they're enjoying with their shiny new partner, plug your ears and intone loudly into the reciever, "la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la'.

11. Get your hair cut NOW - hairdressers start drinking heavily the second week prior to x-mas and don't fully dry out unitl the 2nd or 3rd week into the new year. TIP :: If you arrive at the salon, and Jorge is, indeed, blitzed, forget about the haircut, make the best of a bad situation and have some of what Jorge is having. Just don't let him anywhere near your hair.

12. Don't decorate you pets. Nothing says "person to avoid" louder than an owner who festoons their mini-pom with antlers. TIP :: Buy a tree - that's what they're for.

Thursday, December 12

 
FINALLY.

Wednesday, December 11

 
Whatever Princess wants, Princess gets

Check out this rider (ie., list of demands) that Christina Aggravara uses for concert dates;





Can you imagine trying to buy her x-mas presents?

Tuesday, December 10

 
Freak of The Week




Go to this site right now. RIGHT NOW.


[I don't know what I'd do without this fella, Sam Roberts, he sends me hysterical shit - like that above - all the time. He's currently putting the finishing touches on his blogging debut. Hurry the fuck up, Sam.]

My Inside Source

Monday, December 9

 
Say Brother - Have You Seen My Brain?

I can barely type today, so I'll recap Le Weekend (they really do say "Le Weekend" in Quebec, btw) by listing some highlights/lowlights in a brain & blog friendly list. OK?

:: Had to a)wait in line & b)pay to get into various clubs. [lowlight] - Club connection suddenly went to Mexico, neglected to leave comp's or put us on necessary guest lists...he's under delusion that we're picking him up at the airport next week when he returns.

:: Met guy who, were I not a committed bachelor, would be, at this very moment, my (way) better half. [highlight, with hint of lowlight] - Name is Omar. Resembles a kinder, gentler Tyson Beckford. Prevented me from expiring from Heat Exhaustion by continually mopping the sweat from my body with his shirt at 2 different clubs on 2 different nights, without need for cueing on my part. Gay Chivalry exists - you just have to go to the right places.

:: Went to bizarre breeders-who-work-at-a-bank party where everyone stood around in tight little circles and mumbled the same "ain't that the truth" platitudes re:working at a bank over & over & over again. [low lowlight] - You do not want these bitter barbies anywhere near your money, believe me. We were the only guests who were not allowed, I repeat, not allowed to meet hostess's fiance. ? . Plus, hostess totally lied about food - I, a Jew, have been genetically enabled with the ability to distinguish between store bought deli platters and 'home-made' meat trays from great distances (simply put, it has to do with i) how the cheese is cubed and ii) how the meat slices are rolled. It is an established fact that Wasp Goyem generally avoid touching food with their fingers at all costs. In this case, it is also inconceivable that she "whipped-up" - her words - those trays with those press-ons.)

:: Danced from 11 - 7 Sat/Sun with Bionic Blonde Friend Megan. [highlight] - Imagine Lisa Kudrow's brain in Gwen Stefani's body, with lots of Girl Drama. I nominate her for the Best Friend To Hang Out With In Bathroom Stall While Not Going To The Bathroom category. She's also a serious contender for the Best Friend To Have At Your Side During A Futile Coatcheck Dispute and Most Successful (in a good way) Attention-Seeking By A Woman In A Gay Club categories. Megan's personality, like that of most of my friends, is distinctly well-rounded.

:: Met a Gay Male Virgin . [wierd] - wierd.

::Hung out with charming college rave-o-paths. [highlight] - Ten years too late, they added an undeniably retro feel to Friday's antics....they need to lose the glow sticks, however.

I'd like to thank Spellcheck and the manufacturers of Trazedone for making this post possible...(nods off, onto keyboard)




Thursday, December 5

 
Sex Worker Holiday Deals

a) Ho Ho Ho package :: Full Service, $250/hr. Includes Chimney scene (john gets to play Santa), lights, sleigh, and blow-up reindeer. A perenial favourite - book now to avoid disappointment!!

b) Stocking Stuffer package :: Swedish or Greek, $200/hr (blow - $25 extra, per job). Includes titilllating range of things to stuff and to get stuffed in, including panyhose (sheer), an elf, a turkey, and, of course, a hot escort. This holiday romp ends with a wild EGG NOG RUB DOWN. Perfect for all you x-mas PIGS out there!!

c) Under The Tree package :: exact service & fee to be negotiated with your worker, real scotch pine tree, $40.00. Includes - you guessed it - hot holiday FUN beneath a real LIVE tree. Tarp & twinkly lights included. Not advisable for those with tree allergies. Slight risk of abrasion from needle foliage.

d) Santa Daddy package :: Full Service, $300/hr, can be video'd for additional $35.00. Our escort, as Father Christmas, will PLUNGE down your chimney - over & over again!!. Mrs. Klaus available for two-somes (additional fee)

e) The Elves Are Cumming!! package :: Orgy Service, minimum 3 johns gets you 6 of our hottest elves, $1,000/hr. New this year, our Elves package is perfect for those into holiday group scenes. Each john receives a Free Parting Gift (provocatively wrapped Holiday Sex Toy pack) straight from our perverted Elves' workshop!!! Looking for something a little different from the usual boring office party? Our Elves are perfect for satisfying all your group needs.

f) Jingle Balls package :: BDSM Service, $400/hr, In calls only, costumes available on individual basis. Were you a bad bad boy this year? Well, Santa KNOWS it and feels like PUNISHING somebody!!! Our premium package, you'll spend a minimum of 5 tortuous hours locked in Kris Kringle's North pole Dungeon - if you can last that long!!

Inspired by jhames, pimp to us all.

Tuesday, December 3

 
A Really Bad Gift


Ok, boys! Get ready to ROCK!!

As seen in a recent issue of Slate, here is what can only be described as the most shocking reiteration of the Barbie-as-Godhead trend to date ::

Bachelor Party Barbie ........(she's about to leap outta frickin' cake, ok?)

Yikes - she even brings her own lube.


Monday, December 2

 
This Is My Face On Drugs

Notice the beady eyes, sickly pallor, and tense affect::




This is what happens when, after specifically asking your mother for a non-unconciousness inducing decongestant, she hands you 3 innocuous white pills, a cup of tea and a pat on the head ("here honey - these really work"). No shit....in a matter of minutes, you feel great !!! terrific !!! energized!!! ...and find yourself, among other things, vacuuming like a crazy person at 7:30 in the morning. Then, it occurs to you to ask what, exactly, the medication is which you've been given.....

Mother, it turns out, has discovered the joys of ephedrine, a 'natural' (uh-huh) form of speed. So, with uncomfortable visions of Requiem For A Dream flashing before my eyes, I chastise her gently - very - gently, regarding her seemingly reckless choice of medication.

To which she states flatly :: "Who the hell are you to lecture me about drugs, sweetheart?"

The woman always wins.


Sunday, December 1

 










No drama - just the truth.
This year, 3 of my friends died :: mikey, mickey and damian.





You can do something about AIDS/HIV - or you can just sit there.