Too Pooped To Post

Almost. Despite an intense thunderstorm (or two) I had a wonderful time on my first Gay Pride march! I've been trying to drag myself to the gym all evening until I remembered that the reason I'm so pooped is I walked over 50 blocks this afternoon. More than enough exercise for one day. I'll put up a story and some pretty pictures sometime tomorrow. In the meantime Happy Gay Pride Fags!

Time For Bed

Tomorrow I'm marching for the first time in the NYC Gay Pride parade. Pretty sure there will be lots of pictures ...

Hey, Is That A Lobster In Your Pants Or ...

June 17, 2008 -- A cook at Brooklyn's famed Junior's Restaurant was charged with larceny yesterday after co-workers caught him with 15 frozen lobster tails stuffed down his pants and into bandages around his legs, cops said.

Prep cook Raymundo Flores, 40, was spotted in a walk-in freezer by colleague Adam Marks, allegedly taking lobster tails and stuffing them under the bandages early Sunday afternoon. After Marks alerted co-worker Joe Hanson, both men stopped Flores and called 911.

Police arrived and found the 15 tails hidden on Flores, whom they arrested.

Authorities said that staff at Junior's - where twin lobster tails sell for $29.95 - had recently noticed lobster tails missing from the freezer.

Flores, a Manhattan resident, was freed without bail after being arraigned yesterday in Brooklyn Criminal Court on charges of petit larceny and criminal possession of stolen property. He also lost his job. -via New York Post

(Ed. - And henceforth, he will carry the unfortunate jailhouse moniker "Lobster Pants".)

"Circle Jerk For Freedom!"

On the last two consecutive weekends, gay men on Fire Island have been arrested and charged with lewd conduct. These are the first known arrests for public sex on the federal land.

In the first event, an eyewitness said he saw five or six rangers with a gay man (described as somewhat overweight and clad in khakis and a polo shirt) on his knees and in handcuffs. (Ed. Are they sure this was an arrest and not a porn shoot?) The men were searched after their arrests. In the other event, a man was stopped and "panicked and tried to get rid of the drugs," according to a second-hand report by one Cherry Grove resident; that man was either charged with possession or detained further and charged. The man arrested with him was given a citation for $125 for engaging in lewdness, that resident said.

This coming Saturday, June 28, one Cherry Grove resident is proposing—via posters around the towns—a day of action, what he is calling "a circle jerk for freedom" around the park service's (abandoned) building in the Meat Rack at the edge of the Pines. -via Radar

Sometimes they just write themselves ...

When You Get To 170, Sell!

It's official and then some. I currently weigh more than I ever have in my entire life. Ever. I'm tipping the scales at a mind boggling 170 lbs. And believe me, it shows. Almost every pound of my porkiness is right around my waist. At first, I was able to justify putting on some weight because I had quit drinking. I indulged a lot of my food cravings because I thought it was best to give in to something. So I ate the fries I previously ignored. All sandwiches were accompanied by some sort of chip. And I curled up most nights with a dish (or a pint) of ice cream, in my mind preferable to a bottle of vodka. Or wine. Or tequila. And I think I was right for a while. But eventually, the pounds started to pile on, and while you could make a case that part of the weight gain was my body finally filling out now that I wasn't satiating hunger with booze, eventually even I had to admit I was just plain getting fat. Couple that with the fact that I've been terribly busy with work, and in my only real defense I did in fact injure my hand pretty badly several months ago (said injury of course did not keep my off the elliptical trainer, laziness did). The clearest sign of my ever expanding ass was when almost every pair of pants I owned no longer fit, and I've been slowly purchasing new shorts and pants in a 33 or 34 in order to be more comfortable.

Another light bulb illuminated when I finally got my new bike assembled and started to ride. Every hill left me winded, and I had no stamina. A 20 min. ride completely wiped me out. So I started biking to and from work two weeks ago. Not every day but often. Last week I managed to bike to work 4 days. And on several of those days I added at least an hour at the gym. My hand is sufficiently healed to let me work out with weights again. And last week I made it to the gym three days in a row. My knees hurt, and my abs have been burning all day today. I'm sleeping better too. Of course, I'm always hungry now but I'm trying to snack only on fruit and nuts. I'm never without a nutri-grain bar nearby. I've lately become re-enamored with bananas and yogurt.

I weighed in at the gym today, and 170 is where I've drawn the line in the sand. We Shall Grow No Fatter!

Open That Hole!

Early this morning found me climbing into a chair at the Dental clinic. Along with a host of other phobias and fears, my paralyzing fear of dentists evaporated after I got sober. Which is good. What's bad is I'm paying the price for years and years of neglect when it comes to my teeth. As I tried to get myself back together with medication, both prescribed and not, I did manage an occasional dental appointment in the last two years. I even had a minor cleaning done at one point, but balked when they tried to convince me that a deep cleaning would be advisable and not horribly painful. Truth to tell, I doubt I would have been able to sit still with someone directly over me using sharp instruments inside my mouth for more than a few minutes without running down the hall with the spit-sucker still attached.

So I guess the little bit of work I already had done saved me a bit of discomfort, but last month I decided I would take advantage of the 8 free visits I have with ADAP this year and buckle down and have my teeth fixed up. I had two visits for a light cleaning, x-rays and some evaluations, and I'll use four more to have my teeth scraped. Which is exactly what it sounds like.

This morning I had several kind of painful shots of anesthetic along my upper right gum line, and after I was good and numb, the dental technician took a rusty garden rake, opened up my face, and scraped all the dirt off from the inside. OK. That's a slight exaggeration. But it wasn't very much fun. And it took forever. I haven't had to hold my mouth open that long since I filmed Boriqua Gang-Bang Pt. 4. And for that I got paid. After I complete this procedure I'll have a filling done, by some miracle I only ended up with one small cavity through all this, and then they will try and convince me to have that previously discussed root canal. I may go back on the pills for that one. I'm fearless now not crazy.

Rip-A Off! No Dirt To Dish

Friday afternoon found us hosting a private birthday party for Kelly Ripa and Mark Consuelos' seven year old daughter Lola. I'm not risking much for divulging this considering I'm following that up by saying they were about the nicest "celebrity parents" we have ever done a party for. Both Kelly and Mark were as unassuming as could be, no special demands, no star treatment (that is if you discount the fact that it took two assistants for them and one events manager for us to organize the festivities). Understandable considering Kelly frequently has several jobs to juggle and Mark has, err Lifetime, Television for Women. I keed! I keed!

They are, unsurprisingly (at this point), relatively tiny people. As I have found most people on television to be surprisingly small in real life. However I am thrilled to report they do not have the disturbingly over sized head I have noticed in some TV celebrities. Are you listening, Rachel Ray? And as befitting your normal, well-dressed, unfairly good-looking New York parents, their children were uniformly well-spoken, bright and genetically enhanced with attractive DNA.

In short, Kelly Ripa and her brood are nice. The party was great, and little Lola and her guests had a swell time. Sorry, Page Six.

I Love A Parade!

And this year, for the first time ever (I know!) I will be marching the entire NYC Gay Pride parade with the peeps from SIN NYC. I had the perfect shirt to wear for the occasion, but the SIN colors from the logo are pretty much red and black and the shirt I have is not. Far be it from me to not conform, so I just ordered up two possible contenders for my parade outfit. This one is clearly my favorite.

We Be Illin'

The pooch and I were both sick this weekend.

Jet had another appointment at the vet. His leaking dog-pee problem turned out not to be cured after almost two weeks of antibiotics, so I signed him up for more tests. He had some blood work done and I had to bring in a urine sample to test. Have you ever tried to collect a dog's urine? If it's a girl dog, it's all pretty much a question of timing and getting a container below the squat. Not so simple with a boy. If I so much as bumped him trying to get a sample he automatically stopped. And it's not like an udder you can grab hold of and squirt. And people give you the oddest look as you gingerly sneak up on your peeing dog with a little Tupperware bowl. I finally set up a couple of nice bank shots off a building and a tree and collected enough for what I hoped was a good sample. It was. And even though the test results aren't back, the new medication the vet prescribed seems to have done the trick and my bed and couch are finally dry.

Unfortunately, during the walk before the vet Jet managed to get a hold of a hunk of chicken that had fallen out of the trash. I grabbed some of it out of his mouth but he had already swallowed a nice chunk. I had a bad feeling right away as it has been so hot lately and I had no idea how long the chicken had been in the garbage. Sure enough, by Saturday at 5 A.M. Jet started throwing up and before he was done he puked in the bedroom and on the couch. Then he started loosing control of the hole at his other end. All. over. The kitchen. It was delightful to wake up to.

As for myself, I've been feeling fatigued and lightheaded for a couple of days, and by Saturday afternoon I had wicked heartburn and then a sore throat. By the time I went to bed Saturday I had a headache and by the time I woke up, a cough and sniffles. By this morning, I woke up with sinus congestion and a swollen-red right eye. And I sounded like Lauren Bacall. But I was determined to make a day off of it so I still managed to get in a little shopping (never too sick for shopping), an afternoon Gay-A meeting (I feel asleep), and a trip to the gym for some cardio and light weights.

And now that the weekend is almost over we are both on the mend and feeling much improved. Just in time to go back to work.

Your A Fag

-via Queerty

Alive And Kickin'

As usual, I'm incredibly busy. Work is kicking my ass since we've cut our management staff in half. I'm having a great time.

Have you heard it's really hot?

More as soon as I can. Big concert tonight and the A/C is on the fritz....

Holy Matrimony!

Not many people in the world can say this anymore, but my mom and dad are "celebrating" their 55th wedding anniversary today. I put celebrating in quotes only because I'm not picturing a candel-lit dinner in a romantic spot. More likely the early bird special at Denny's. And I'm sure they'll bicker all the way through the meal. Not sure if they are in "love" so much as used to each other by now. Comfortable. Like a ratty sweatshirt you can't bear to part with. Best to dance with the devil you know, as I'm fond of saying.

Also, not that I'm complaining but there's an extra $820.00 in my checking account. And I don't know where it came from or why. I'd love to close out a credit card with the money but I'm afraid someone will figure out it's not mine and take it back.

This Is So Cute!

Enjoy.

Hi-Larry-Ous. What A Bag De Douche.

I Was Born A Po' Black Chile ...

Yesterday found me managing a tribute to wretched excess. It was a ridiculously overblown Bat Mitzvah, and it's been quite a while since I've seen money thrown around quite like this. Conservatively, I estimate the cost of this party to have been in the range of 175 - $200,000.00. I base this on knowing what our charges were, and reasonably adding in the decor, entertainment, event planners, equipment rentals etc. The event took up all 4 available floors, and featured a five hour open bar, specially installed lighted dance floor complete with DJ, aerialists above the dance floor, stilt-walkers and male models to act as dancers, hosts and eye candy. Speaking of candy, the 1st floor lobby was transformed into a full size candy store, complete with gift bags and rows and rows of free candy displays. There were five different buffet stations, one with two sushi chefs and a hostess in Kabuki makeup, and a children's cocktail hour, featuring juice and virgin frozen drinks.

The entire event took months and months of planning, as well as the entire day to set up and install. Everything was decorated, including the bathrooms, and the birthday girl's name and face were emblazoned on everything, including the napkins. The event planners even went out and bought nicer looking soap dispensers, as our drugstore brand clear plastic was not up to par. Part way through the night I took a moment to phone the folks back in Buffalo. After explaining the event I was managing to my mom I then expressed how the entire day resulted in deep feelings of resentment towards both of my under-achieving parents. She laughed and picked the corn from her teeth.

It was a very long day, made even more stressful as we brought in a ridiculous amount of staff to make sure that every whim of the host family was anticipated and fulfilled. Which explains why I decided to use some of my host staff to actually work the event floor, passing hors d'oeuvres, manning buffets, and generally pitching in. Plus, considering we have drastically reduced the available host shifts we have, it was my way of sending some extra money in to their paychecks.. So imagine my surprise when half way through the event, I walked past the third floor elevator and happened upon one of my host staff sitting on a couch, completely enraptured as a card reader sat next to her telling her fortune. I almost couldn't believe my eyes.

Just to add to the experience I casually leaned against the bar, in full view of my paid employee, and occasionally chatted with the staff walking by actually, you know ... working. This went on for a full 15 minutes. It only ended because ... well, they were done. At which point my still on the clock employee rubbed her little eyes and stupidly blinked as she (I assume) decided where she was going to hang out and get paid for doing nothing next. Instead I called her over and we had the following exchange:

"You can't possibly think that was OK, can you?"

"Well she asked me to sit down and I thought it would be all right."

"You thought it would be all right? How in the world would that seem all right to you? You aren't a guest at the party you're supposed to be working."

"There was nothing to do."

I was dumbfounded. But not enough that I couldn't reply:

"Go home."

I would hope that the card reader spent a great deal of time giving her some career counseling. Needless to say, her future with me has ended.