Sunday, August 30, 2009


The golf tournament, thank christ. As god as my witness I will never work another event at that horrific Liberty National Country Club as long as I live. I feel like I need a soul colonic. I've been snapping at Riley all night and I have a pounding headache. I'm assuming that's from swallowing fits of rage the last five days. But I am relieved it's finally over. The tournament itself wasn't very well attended, mostly due to several days of rain that kept the crowds away. I'm glad I earned some much needed hourly pay, but I got totally hosed out of making some good tips. I just want to start a new week tomorrow. I will go to the gym, make a Gay-A meeting and try to forget how much fun I didn't have the last week.

Also making a totally unexpected ending this morning was the 24 hr. market that has been located on the next block for the entire time I have lived here. 2o years. No idea when it first opened, but Blooming House Farm Gourmet, which we used to refer to as "The Koreans" and later as the "Million Dollar Deli" suddenly covered the windows with newspapers and closed up shop sometime yesterday. It really was a neighborhood institution, even though absolutely everything they sold was anywhere from 20 cents to a dollar more expensive than in a regular grocery store. But if a certain roommate has gone and gotten herself drunk the night before she has her period, resulting in a horrible early morning (or afternoon) combo of cramps, headache and dry mouth, it was always a handy location when you were sent out for emergency popsicles.

Where will I overpay for my groceries now?

Friday, August 28, 2009

Stop, Hey What's That Sound

I've been in bed the last three or four nights by midnight as I have had to get up by 6:45 every morning to make it out to New Jersey and the shuttle transportation to the golf tournament. In case you were wondering, I'm bar tending this week at Liberty National Golf Club. It's the site this year for The Barclays, a major stop on the PGA Tour and part of the FED-EX Playoffs. The winner of the playoffs pockets 10 million dollars.

I hope you are suitably impressed, because I'm bored to death. "Bar tending" the last two days has basically meant that I stand behind a great looking bar with a spectacular view of the course and open up cans of Diet Coke and Nestea Iced Tea, as well as dole out endless amounts of bottled water. My "bar" is just a service area for the players dining room and as such no beer, wine or alcohol is offered. Today I opened up cans of soft drinks and served out water for 7 hours. I do have two televisions (tuned to the Golf Channel) and I have several security personnel and the occasional Jersey City Police officer to chat with, but it is punishing on my feet and knees to stand there doing next to nothing and it's also mind-numbingly soul-crushingly BORING.I'm not sure I will make it two more days, even though I need the money.

Anyway, I started to tell you about my being asleep early. It is screwing with my body clock a bit, which is why I woke up this morning around 4:40 needing to turn on the A/C and also to take a middle of the night pee. As I stood in the bathroom lights out, door open, hand braced against the wall, I heard a sound not usually associated with my home, and certainly not a sound I have heard recently even through one of the neighboring walls. It was the unmistakable moaning of a young lady having sex. In my apartment. A girl! Having opposite sex! I KNOW!!

First of all, lucky bitch! Second, I found it ridiculously funny. Something about the sex noises a girl makes, as opposed to a guy, which I find totally hot. And of course I listened briefly for some guy sex noises, since the guy in question is the 22 year old student/model in the room next to mine. But I didn't hear any masculine grunting, nor the telltale squeak of bed springs, so I am assuming there was some sort of manual or oral pleasuring going on. All of this information is speculation that took place over about 30 seconds, as it occurred to me that standing around a dark apartment in the middle of the night listening in as your 22-year-old hetero roommate goes down on his date would be slightly pervy. Even for me.

But I did find myself a couple of times today daydreaming about the size of his cock. Only because I had nothing else to do.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

America's Best Dance Crew - Week 3

It was a pretty lame-ass week on ABDC. Not surprising considering the totally stupid "challenge" theme of martial arts. All the crews ended up just pulling out a single move from the "demonstration" they were given and trying to build some sort of cohesive dance "story" from that little scrap. The results were unsurprisingly weak. So VE's so-so review from the judges, including Little Stupid's out and out pan could have been disastrous had the rest of the groups not matched them in lack of energy and imagination. I predict another week at least for our hometown girls.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Work! (Not Full Time)

This week I'm employed at a very famous (if you're a golfer) PGA Tournament in New Jersey. Today I had to get up at 6AM (golfers do their thing mighty early) to catch the 8AM PATH to NJ. From there we were shuttled out (like bean pickers) to the golf course where we were issued uniform shirts and put to work.

I had a perfectly delightful (if horrifyingly early) day mostly popping sodas and ice tea cans to pour for parched golfers and their families as well as corporate spectators that came in to the clubhouse once the heat of the afternoon got to be too much. I was working with the wife of the club's GM, who ran the computer and tracked drinks and charges for private members and assorted corporate reps. It was actually a lovely morning and afternoon until she finally called it a day and went home. That's when the AGM for the club took over the room.

I loath her. Seriously. I usually get along with most people, and I generally like working for and with women. But this bitch be a CUNT. And her cuntiness is only covering up the fact that she is completely insecure and panics whenever there is the slightest amount of "busy" business or is afraid that she will look bad in front of her bosses. That's when she starts telling you to pour wine in to wine glasses and use the ice to make drinks colder. Not to mention the fact that she has always talked to me like I am gum that somehow got stuck to her coochie hair. And while I should just let it roll off my back, since I don't work there full time and it doesn't matter in the slightest, there's something about this bitch that makes the words "FUCK YOU" appear written across my forehead every time we get within two feet of each other. She knows it, and I know it, and not only can I not cover it up, I don't even make the attempt. Today I aggravated her so much that she sent me home four hours earlier than I was scheduled.

Which was fine because I had already worked a full eight hours and I was worried how long Riley would have to go without a walk. That and the fact that what I thought would be a highly profitable five day stint working for great tips has turned out to be tip money going in to some nebulous giant pool with no telling how much goes in or who's counting it or who's getting tipped out. That's assuming the agency that hired us in the first place doesn't skim all or part of the money right out from under us.

Illegal? Call a cop.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Busy Bee

How can I only be partially employed and still busy as hell? I woke up today with a "To Do" list that's a mile long.

I already went to the pharmacy to drop off a script and ask for a refill. I need to order new contact lenses from the eye doctor. I have to have all of my work clothes dropped off at the dry cleaner, and one of the pants needs a fastener repaired. I need to stain treat all my white work shirts and then do all my laundry. I have to drop off my resume at a bar/club about to open on 14th street, when I'll probably go back to the pharmacy to pick up my order.

As an aside, I've been thinking lately about how even though HIV has become a manageable illness (that's assuming you are lucky enough to have or qualify for health care, and it's also assuming you actually go see a doctor when you are sick and don't wait until you need an emergency room, at which point you can be so ill from untreated HIV that you die) you still have to spend an awful lot of time actually managing HIV. It seems that although I don't have to visit the doctor nearly as much as I used to (it's now four times a year) I am constantly running back and forth to the pharmacy or to the Community Health to get prescriptions and pick up refills. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for all the medical care I receive, but this myth that HIV is now just a pill a day and that's that is just not true. At least for me.

In any case I also want to get to the gym today, if for no other reason than to stretch out my tired legs and get some ab work done, and if there's time (not looking likely) I want to visit a free acupuncture clinic that one of the hospitals offers for me and my blood brethren. And I need to go the Greenmarket and fill up on fresh fruit and vegetables.

I also absolutely have to get to a Gay-A meeting. I will probably go to a night-time meeting I discovered last Monday. Not only was it full of new and interesting (new) people, but there was a stunningly beautiful 40 year old Latin man there. He had gorgeous big brown eyes and the most amazing copper colored skin. I wanted to trace the outline of his arm tatts with my tongue for the entire hour I was there. Not that I became obsessed with him or anything.

In other news ... Mr. Riley has gotten a clean bill of health. All the icky parasites got pooped away with his medication, and he is totally up to date on all his shots. Somewhere in that list he will need a couple of long walks, as the extreme heat and humidity that has gripped the city all week has finally broke. Good thing since I'll be out walking all over the East Village today.

Friday, August 21, 2009

New OS, Same Headache

I finally got around to installing the much anticipated Windows 7. It's the almost ready for release candidate and most importantly, I got it free and legal-like from Why-so-Soft. Of course, I immediately was unable to connect to the internet. The drivers for that section of the highway hadn't reported to work. Or something. I managed to hire new drivers and I am back on line. But I will be installing software and tweaking settings for the next few hours. Why do I do this to myself?

Thursday, August 20, 2009

I LOVES Me Some Barney Fag

Trust a big ol' homo to serve up a giant can of you're a dumb-ass when it's truly needed.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

America's Best Dance Crew - Week 2

Leyomi and the girls from Vogue Evolution stepped it up a notch and definitely earned another week on the show.And Shane Sparks managed an entire critique without a single "y'all" at the beginning and the middle of every sentence. I actually didn't need to mute the TV once.

And while I'm at it, please enjoy the performance of Afroborike, as well as their eventual Week 2 battle win. Do I need to explain why I enjoy them? Plus, lest you get discouraged, Tiny Little Sparks drops about 6 "y'all bombs" in to the middle of three sentences.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

$207 Dollars Later ...

And Riley is hopefully in good health and up to date on all his shots. I just have to wait until tomorrow to confirm he is recovered from the parasites he had in his innards, and he will hopefully not need to see the vet or cost Daddy any more money for at least 6 months.

So Saturday was the second week of a program here in Manhattan they call Summer Streets. They block off a corridor right up the middle of the city, and restrict it to jogger, bikers, 'bladers, etc. in other words, no cars. This is the second year they've done it and I've been meaning to check it out, but for one reason or another ...

Saturday ended up being the day scheduling-wise that I was free for the last couple of hours so I hopped on my bike and joined in around 19th St near Union Square (first "X" on map). It wasn't my intent but I ended up following the entire route downtown. From there, many in the group of bikers, and a lot of the walkers opted to scale the Brooklyn Bridge. "What the hell", I thought "How hard can it be?"

FUCKING HARD! It may not look it from the street but the incline on the public walkway is pretty damn steep. Many bikers gave up and walked after halfway up, but I was determined (too stupid?) to not give up. I pumped and puffed and sucked as much air in to my lungs as I could (P.S. I was still feeling congested from last week's cold) until I finally made it half way across the bridge to the high point (Second "X"). I was lightheaded and seeing spots. I was considering the possibility that I would have an aneurysm burst right there on the bridge, and how inconvenient that would be, but I eventually recovered and snapped a few pictures for my trouble. Then I happily glided back in to Manhattan.

Again, it wasn't my intent, but I ended up riding back up the entire length of the corridor, all the way to 72nd St. before turning around and coming back downtown and returning home (Third "X"). When I finally got off my bike in front of my apartment building, I literally couldn't walk for a minute. My legs wouldn't move.

I'm sure I lost at least a pound or two during that ride, and I ended up with some pretty cool photos of the bridge and my city.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Porn! (And Dog Porn)

Lookee what came in the mail just before the weekend! PORN! I exhibited enormous self-control and waited two full days before I took it in the bathroom with me.

Speaking of porn, I was getting my camera out to take some other pictures when this handsome young man sprawled out on my bed just begging me to record this "come to bed, Daddy" look. How could I resist?

We have had a bit of a tech upgrade here at From The Ashes HQ, as I recently took advantage of a ridiculously cheap sale price on a 23" wide-screen monitor ($169). It's making television and movie viewing (and porn) in the bedroom, a very relaxing, non-eye straining pleasure. I'm having a little trouble tweaking the settings on the monitor so's I can switch back to a non-stretched out image for photo editing. Hopefully I can figure out some sort of a shortcut so I can jump back and forth between the two settings. I'm sure the answer is already posted somewhere.

I also took possession of an upgraded cell phone by waiting until I was eligible for a free (as in no cost) replacement, and finally broke down and got me my first Crackberry. I pontedly resisted the allure of the CrackB, largely because everyone wanted one, and they were hugely expensive. But now that the IPhone has become the new Holy Grail and the CrackB is just an average work-a-day phone, I figured I was due a fancier phone upgrade. And did I mention it was free?

I also increased my text minutes by double, which should still be cheaper than the extra charges I was racking up in over-text fees. It also has a little bit better camera than my old cell, and it shows me all my G-Mail messages as I get them.

ACK! I had a great idea to turn a bunch of leftovers in my fridge and freezer in to two very delicious shrimp and vegetable pizzas, but turning on the oven to roast the shrimp, tomato and vegetables, and then baking the aforementioned pizzas, has turned my apartment into an oven! It's easily one million degrees inside, and me and my porno-dog are holed up in the air conditioned bedroom. And no, I didn't leave the oven on I already checked.

More this week, including pictures from a bike ride that almost killed me.

Saturday, August 15, 2009


It's a little long at 8 and a half minutes, but if you are feeling reflective or at all wistful I urge you to start this video and just sit back and watch the whole thing. Not that you will have much choice as it quickly becomes not just beautiful and fascinating, but hypnotic. This woman won the Ukrainian version of America's Got Talent (I guess I could have just said Ukraine's Got Talent and you would have put that together). Why do we end up giving the title to peroxide doused farmer chicks that yodel out the vagina while spinning giant sausage links stuffed with bottle rockets?

-via The WOW Report

Friday, August 14, 2009

12-Step, Ball Change

I had a delightful night last night spent getting all self-helpy. After getting all the laundry done, and scrubbing down the bathroom, (did I mention that I am now living with two heterosexual men, one of whom is a 22 year old student and part-time model? No? Well it's not all underwear- water-fights and straight-boy porn let me tell you, these boys are messy, and they think I'm the old gay housewife. SHUT.UP.) I went to my HIV+ support group. It's been very well attended lately, as I have been there on some nights when only 8 or so people showed up. It's been upwards of 20+ the last few times I've dropped in.

This week I sparked a lively discussion by asking how they all felt about the idea that there should be more money and research focused on a cure for HIV/AIDS instead of treatment. Obviously, everyone wants one, but not everyone believes we'll see it in our lifetime. A couple people expressed certainty that there already was a way to cure HIV, but the pharmaceutical companies won't release it because they have and are making billions in treatment dollars. I admit that it is theoretically possible, but I wondered aloud where that line of thinking ends. Do they also have a cure for diabetes? There's billions of treatment dollars in testing and supplies there. How about breast cancer? That's become a moneymaking cottage sub-industry in cancer. Are doctors and drug companies and insurance agencies sitting on cures for all these illnesses, simply to churn out profit on the backs of sick people world-wide? Or have they targeted the gays specifically, as part of a larger desire to make us suffer, die and spend our money? It's easy to casually spout a conspiracy theory, until you stop to think about how much conspiring it might really take to pull off. Not that I don't think there are potentially some evil fucks in the world that would consider giving it a try.

In any case, I went out for a quick bite with my POZ people, before going back to the GLCC for a Gay-A meeting. I almost skipped it as I was having a great time ki-ki-ing with the boys out on the sidewalk, but I ended up running up only a couple minutes late. It turned out to be a great meeting, something I needed to do, and I practically floated home feeling like I didn't have a burden in the world to weigh me down.

There is supposed to be a New York demo for the Great Nationwide Kiss-In tomorrow at 2:00 in Battery Park. If there are any activist-minded latin men (preferably under 6 ft. - for comfort and aesthetics of course) or really any reasonably attractive, non sandal-wearing in shape under 50 year-old that needs a *ahem* demonstration partner, I'm going on record as saying that I know for a fact I'm a really, REALLY good kisser. I'm just sayin' ...

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

HIV Travel And Immigration Ban

Here's an interesting link where you can read comments for and against the proposed (and pretty unavoidable I'd say) reversal of the Dept. of Health and Human Services ban on HIV+ immigrants and visitors to the US. Of course I went down the list and read all the comments from people that seemed adamantly opposed to lifting the ban. That's where the comedy gold is mined. There was a lot of misinformation, fear and misplaced anger to be found there, but I thought this comment was one of the better ones:

The USA already has too many immigrant's without health insurance. We don't need more. I see the removal of HIV from the banned list as opening the door for more people without health insurance that haven't contributed to our government by paying taxes (income taxes, Medicaid, ss taxes, sales tax, fuel tax, ect) sucking more money from our system. Why does America feel we need to allow everyone into our country no matter how much they won't be able to contribute to our society in a positive manner or how much they want to bring injury to us? If we take HIV off of the list then we open the door for heathens that are spreading HIV in their own countries to come into America and spread HIV even more here. There are too many African's that believe that raping a virgin will rid them of HIV. Don't allow them to bring more HIV here. We have enough as it is.

So there you have it. The prejudicial, fear-based, anti-gay, anti-sex and nonsensical ban on HIV+ tourists and immigrants should be kept in place to protect us all from the godless, virgin-raping, uninsured Africans.


Oh, and if you want to register your own comment in support of lifting the travel ban, you can do so by filling out the form found here and hitting "SUBMIT". I just did.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Stupid Cold

I had a job interview (admittedly an open call) for this afternoon but there was no way I could even try to fake feeling well enough to go. I slept fitfully last night, despite taking some Tylenol PM to help me zonk out. And I woke up around 6am, in the grip of fever chills that had me shivering in my bed. I actually got up to put on sweat pants to keep me warm, and then woke up again to use the bathroom an hour later. My sore throat is gone, as the cold has migrated to my chest. The worst part is that I have one of those muscle ache days where all my joints are crying out in pain.

Having whined like a bitch just now, I am feeling a little better, and am about to run down to a Gay-A meeting and the pharmacy to pick up a refill. This after I finally went back to bed around 2:30 this afternoon and slept until 5:00. I am scheduled to work in the morning and expect that even if I'm not 100% I'll be able to fake it by then. I'm basing that on the fact that I just realized I'm famished. Always a good sign for me.

On another topic, I finally found a complete video of the first week's performance of Vogue Evolution, the gay/lesbian/transgender dance crew competing on MTV this season. The video quality isn't the greatest but you see the whole routine. They were certainly good enough to advance to next week, and I'm gonna assume they have some moves they are saving to break for later weeks.

What you don't see in the video are the judges' comments, including some forced and awkward "cultural" references from Li'l Mama that fell flat. And as predicted, Shane (Y'all is a idiot, Y'all) Sparks saw fit to talk about how "confused" (read: uncomfortable) he was by the in your face gay group, saying he didn't know what to make of them. He expressed no such confusion or reservations about the denim and cowboy hat wearing dance crew Southern Movement. Apparently, country western dancers aren't a threat to the masculinity of the tiny and illiterate Mr. Sparks.

Monday, August 10, 2009

And We're Back

We've also caught a cold. Probably one of the little bastards at the Indian wedding I bar tended at over the weekend. I guess it's a cultural thing, but the Indians seem to have no problem bringing really young kids, stroller age on up, to what traditionally (to me) would be an adults-only night time affair. I guess some people don't believe in baby sitters. Do people still hire baby sitters at all anymore?

So I woke up this morning with a pretty sore throat and a mild sniffle. It's turned into a full on sneeze-fest with a totally stuffed up head. I'm currently running a fever and I have a pounding headache. Fortunately it's one of the hottest days of the year, so the fact that I'm really warm doesn't seem too upsetting.

I also woke up extra early today, as Verizon still makes their service appointments anywhere from 8AM to 5PM. Had they sent the repairman at 8:00 we would have been fuck out of luck cause there was no way I was getting up for that. But I decided to chance it and got up at 9:30. He arrived around 10:30 so my luck. As it turns out, my internet problem was a frayed and about to break wire running along the baseboard. It was fucking up my service, not enough to disable it completely, but enough to drop the connection repeatedly and run horribly s-l-o-w the rest of the time. All is well and the system is patched until I work up the energy to move furniture and replace the $10 phone cord. Our high-speed DSL line is high-speedy again, and I'm happy to report that on-line porn is enjoyable once again.

I think that's enough for today. Riley needs another walk and then I think I'll put in a movie and get to bed. Hopefully will be on the mend tomorrow. Regular (for me) posting will resume for sure.

Due To Technical Difficulties ...

I've been suffering connectivity problems all weekend. I have a guy coming to service me. But I expect that means he's just coming to fix my internets. (More later).

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

Get Thee To The Gay-A!

Saturday afternoon found me wandering around Union Square. I was on my way to the gym and planning the rest of the afternoon. Debating whether the sun would stay out and if it was worth going out to the Christopher St. Pier or if I should just fetch Riley and bring him over to Tompkin's Square dog run, with the added possibility of ogling some shirtless latin basketball players.

As I walked past all the photographers, artists and craft sellers as well as the endless tables of Obama hats and Michael Jackson T-shirts, I eventually reached the Union Square Greenmarket. Saturday is crazy busy at the market, so I rarely buy anything on Saturdays, but walking through it usually brightens my mood regardless. Something about nature and dirt, fresh vegetables and flowers I assume.

I wasn't very far in when I passed a stand that was selling locally grown and bottled wines. I've never bought wine at the greenmarket, when I was drinking wine, and I really grew fond of it the last 5 years of my drinking, I usually bought at the local liquor store on the next block. I would scrupulously avoid buying the big jug-o'-wine, always opting for at least the next rung on the price scale. My wine selection never got lower than the $4.99 bottle. Frequently several of them. But that way no one could mistake me for a common drunk. Even when Trader Joe's opened up nearby and sold their famous two-buck chuck (for 3 bucks) I imperiously passed it by for the far superior 5 and 6 dollar wines.

So at first I really only glanced in the direction of the wine stand, not paying any more attention than I would at the card table covered in pot-leaf stenciled ashtrays that look as haphazard as one would expect from a cannabis-oriented artist. And it was then that I was surprised that while my eyes barely registered the three well dressed young women simultaneously knocking back plastic cups of sample wines, my brain zeroed in on them like a lazer. And then quite unexpectedly I heard a little voice from some deep cave in my skull say rather matter-of-factly: "No one will know."

I would be lying if I said I wasn't startled and a little frightened. I shook it off just as quickly and kept walking, but it bothered me the rest of the afternoon. I knew immediately that something was wrong. I had been upset all day because the temp agency I work with screwed me over the previous day. They sent me to New Jersey to work a party that either never existed or had been cancelled. This was not the first time. But this time I took it very personally. All day I had been lamenting why I can't find a full-time job, why I have to work for this chicken-shit outfit. I felt undervalued and under-utilized. I worried that for some reason they were not placing keeping me gainfully employed as a very high priority and that somehow that was my fault. I didn't work hard enough or play the game correctly. I was too passive and didn't sell myself. They were treating me like I was unimportant because deep down I know I am blah, blah blah, blah barf.

It's all the bullshit that runs in the background that I try to forget about, to not believe anymore, or at the very least not listen. Sometimes I fail. Sometimes I get so angry at other people I don't know how to deal with it. Sometimes I blame myself for things I can't control about the way other people act. Sometimes I get so confused by the jumble of emotions and hurt feelings that my impulse is to punish myself. To make the worst decision possible for me. As if hurting myself will somehow hurt "them". Whoever them really is.

So I went to the gym and took a long hot shower and then I went directly to a Gay-A meeting. And I got a seat because someone I made friends with saved one for someone he knew and I heard people like me talk about some of this and a whole lot more and I told my friend what had happened and what I thought about it. And by the time I walked home, I knew that it didn't matter that no one would know. I didn't need to drink that day.

Monday, August 03, 2009

Call For A Cure

Project Inform joins call for greater commitment and cooperation to identify a cure for HIV/AIDS
March 5, 2009

SAN FRANCISCO, CA — A strong arsenal of antiretroviral medications has succeeded in making HIV a chronic but manageable disease for most people infected with the virus able to access them. But they do not actually cure HIV infection or AIDS. And so, a group of leading HIV experts has come together to call for a major new commitment and better collaboration among industry, academic, government and patient advocacy leaders to identify therapies that will actually cure HIV infection, or drive it into remission.

"Current HIV medications have radically transformed the epidemic and restored or prolonged life for countless people. But the need for decades of their use by those patients who can actually get them is extremely expensive and their side effects can be profound,” said Dana Van Gorder, Project Inform’s Executive Director. “Good as they are, existing drugs are also incapable of eliminating latent reservoirs of the virus that go into deep hiding in the body. Novel new strategies must be developed to correct this problem. Today’s scientific goal must be to actually cure HIV infection or, perhaps more realistically, force it into a state of remission that will allow patients to stop taking antiretroviral drugs. Accomplishing this will be difficult, but not impossible, and demands a level of focus, collaboration and funding that does not currently exist.” - via Project Inform

I'm ready for a cure. How about you?

Sunday, August 02, 2009

I'm Just Sayin' ...

"The sailor accused of murdering a fellow seaman who was on guard duty at Camp Pendleton committed suicide in the base brig, Navy officials said today.

Jonathan Campos, 32, of Lancaster was found unresponsive in his cell about 12:20 p.m. and rushed to the base hospital. Campos, a petty officer 2nd class, had apparently asphyxiated himself with toilet paper, officials said.

He had been on suicide watch in the brig ..."

I don't think they are actually supposed to WATCH the SUICIDE ...

"After a four-year hiatus, VH1 will bring back the legendary live concert event VH1 Divas by featuring some of pop music’s most talented female artists – Adele, Kelly Clarkson, Leona Lewis and Miley Cyrus. The VH1 Divas concert will be televised live on VH1 ..."

Who, Who, and WHO? This may be a concert, it may be on VH1, but DIVAS? Don't think so ...

"Star Trek cologne. Called Red Shirt, it carries the tagline “Because tomorrow may never come...”

This is brilliant! And I hear after you put some on, all that is left of you is some charred shiny boots ...

With all the news articles lately about the dangers of driving while texting, here in NYC it's become almost as dangerous, if not maddeningly horribly annoying, to try and not get run over, bumped into or otherwise inconvenienced by people walking down the street or stepping off a curb while engrossed in their Twitter feed. I have had people walk directly in to me, stop dead in doorways and walk right in front of my bicycle, only to look up at the last second and move ever so slightly while quickly looking back down at the screen. Twice this last two weeks I got behind someone riding their own bike, no hands, while texting on a phone and meandering down the street. I don't care if you people are too stupid to watch where you're going, and as far as I'm concerned this is just Darwin's theory at work, but I'll be damned if I let your dumb-fuckkery take me with you!