Saturday, October 31, 2009

Banned In Seattle!

So I got into a little on-line dust-up with Scott, the author of Bill In Exile. It all started with a video post Scott put up of a guy called "Pig Daddy". In the post, PD shoots up crystal meth on camera, has another syringe behind his ear, and settles in (presumably) to spend the next few hours jerking his limp dick and playing with his over-sized, tortured nipples. This is not a new subject with Old Scotty, as in between other celebrations of military men, postings of hot naked boys and rants against evil and stupid Republicans, Scott routinely glorifies crystal meth use and drug abuse. He claims that his own crystal meth habit, while prodigious, was something he just up and stopped one day, and that was that.

My original response was short and to the point:

"Watching that video fills me with an overwhelming sadness. There’s nothing fun about watching someone hurt himself."

I was not the only person to react this way.

That post and others like it were met with a vigorous, angry and utterly laughable defensive response from Scott, equating "recreational" crystal meth use with a "hobby" like (get this!) model ship building or skydiving.

That led to a back and forth exchange wherein Scott and I traded comments and insults. My point in all of it was two-fold. Scott is constantly referencing and fondly reminiscing about his past drug use, specifically crystal meth, to the point where I have long suspected that he may not be using, but his addiction is far from over. My second point was that it was irresponsible to glorify crystal meth use in the manner he always has and continues to do. He doesn't just discuss meth use, he revels in it, he pines for it and you could seriously make a case that he still craves it. And nowhere in this celebration of the good times to be had staying up for days and days having unsafe sex tweaked out of your mind do you find Dear Old Scotty discussing the ramifications of such behavior.

Namely HIV and death. Extreme weight loss. Facial disfigurement. Ruined relationships. Angry, dysfunctional children. Did I mention permanent brain damage?

Scott seems to believe because he was never homeless, never broke, and never had to steal from people to get his drugs that he was never an addict, and there were no real consequences to his behavior. My decision to dispute that and to call him out on it made me a judgmental prig. Indeed he repeatedly makes a point to talk about what a luxurious lifestyle he maintained while living in New York City, high above Christopher Street and high as a kite surrounded by hot naked men having hot naked unsafe sex. There is never a mention as to how many of these men are still living or in what condition. I suspect because that would be a painful slice of reality that Scotty would rather not think about. And if you try to bring it up he will, loudly, vociferously and against all logic, try to tear you down. It should be noted that the title of Scott's blog, Bill In Exile, refers to Scott's acquaintance Bill, currently serving time in prison for selling and possessing crystal meth.

I won't re-hash what was posted in the BIE comments, for now you can read them as posted. But I did send off another missive in response to Scott's repeated attempts to portray crystal meth, as well as the shitstorm of problems attached to using it, as something akin to a simple lifestyle choice. This resulted in an equally angry and verbose response that consisted of speculation that I am newly sober and out of my mind. The first allegation is just not true and the second ... well ... could be. I also have over a decade of study about addiction, the social consequences of same and the successful treatment of addiction and depression under my belt. And somewhere in the back and forth of it all with other commenters slavishly devoted to or curiously afraid of Scott, it became a matter of spin worthy of Fox News that I was claiming that all people who use drugs are addicts. I never, ever once wrote that line or even suggested it. But it was the thing that Scott O'Reilly and a host of lazy readers hung their hats on in an attempt to shut down dissent.

It was after the first exchange I was threatened with banishment (ooooooooo!) from the BIE comments if I didn't "come correct". For those of you who aren't familiar, this was a blatant attempt by someone with addiction issues to control the situation. This is what addicts do. They believe that not only do they control every aspect of their own lives, but that they can somehow force you to cede control of yours. Healthy people know this is nonsense. When addicts are confronted by someone or something that challenges that perception, they will suddenly cut you off by any means necessary. It's based in fear. Although someone untreated will deny that to the heavens.

I had a feeling I should have made a copy of my second response, as I felt a banishment(temper tantrum) was imminent. Suffice it to say I re-iterated my belief that it seemed that the video of PD clearly seemed to be that of a heavily addicted crystal meth addict, that it was irresponsible for Scott to post it and glorify the behavior, that it represented a long pattern of Scott encouraging and celebrating drug use and unsafe sex, and that perhaps, given his extreme and seemingly over-the-top reaction to all of it, Scott ought to examine his feelings regarding his injection drug abuse.

Oh and I also called him a narcissist, a smart-ass, a liar, a couple of other things and an asshole. I ridiculed his threat to "ban me", as if he possessed some sort of magical ability to kick me off the Intertubes. This of course made the untreated crystal meth addict lurking inside Scott absolutely crazy. I acknowledged my own recovery and hopefully shot down his reasoning that this somehow made a single thing I was upset with him about any less true. It didn't. While I was at it, I made a pretty good point that he was full of shit, that he was justifying his past behavior against all reason, and that he ought to knock it off.

Then he banned me. Ostensibly for calling him an asshole and violating some sort of blogger code that he himself made up. Becuase that's what addicts do. They make rules. And when you reject their rules and exploit the cracks in their carefully constructed facade they lash out and then run. Lest the whole house of cards come tumbling down. He did use the opportunity to insult me personally as well, and while I suppose I could waste the time it would take to "crack the ban" and respond on his space, in the end, it hardly seems worth it.

As a last-ditch effort, Scott even took the time to take a swipe at you, my loyal tens of readers and highlight some sentiments from someone who claims to be a "harm reduction counselor". My total feelings regarding harm reduction aren't entirely negative, but in the end, "harm reduction" in drug and alcohol addiction is like trying to only let a teenage girl get "sort of" pregnant, or a reckless driver have a "not so bad" accident. You can be a paid employee of a failed experiment and still be full of shit and misinformation. A degree in stupid doesn't make you any less stupid. They aren't mutually exclusive. But that's another post.

The denial over there runs pretty deep. Pushing my points any further stoops to a level that gives this all more importance than the possible payoff is worth.

Suffice it to say that I maintain that what Scott is doing and saying over at Bill In Exile regarding crystal meth, unsafe sex, and drug and alcohol abuse and addiction is bad for the people that read it, it's bad for the people that believe what amounts to dangerous utter nonesense, and it's sad that he refuses to see and acknowledge that. But I understand that would involve seeing and acknowledging a truth about himself that he may never be ready to see.

He did make one salient point. And that is if I feel this strongly about him and his opinions, why the hell do I read, write and carry a link to him? My answer is that (A) This is something that has been building and bothering me for almost a year, and it finally came to a head with the video post and Scott's ridiculous, childish and impossibly head-up-his ass response to it all and (B) as I said, he posts really hot pictures of naked guys.

But I stand corrected, so I will leave the link up for a few days in case anyone wants to see for themselves what the fuss is or isn't about. After which I will de-link the Nasty Old Guy and take my 46 readers and go.

I no longer wish to see and be a part of it. And that, in the end, is how the Internets work.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Breaking: President Signs Ryan White HIV/AIDS Treatment Extension - Officially Lifts HIV Travel Ban

Here is an excerpt of President Obama's remarks:

Twenty-two years ago, in a decision rooted in fear rather than fact, the United States instituted a travel ban on entry into the country for people living with HIV/AIDS. Now, we talk about reducing the stigma of this disease -- yet we've treated a visitor living with it as a threat. We lead the world when it comes to helping stem the AIDS pandemic -- yet we are one of only a dozen countries that still bar people from HIV from entering our own country.

If we want to be the global leader in combating HIV/AIDS, we need to act like it. And that's why, on Monday my administration will publish a final rule that eliminates the travel ban effective just after the New Year. Congress and President Bush began this process last year, and they ought to be commended for it. We are finishing the job. It's a step that will encourage people to get tested and get treatment, it's a step that will keep families together, and it's a step that will save lives.

full text/video available via Towleroad.

One Hundred Things Restaurant Staffers Should Never Do (Part 1)

Bruce Buschel, aspiring restaurant owner and New York Times columnist, offers up this list of things he claims his waiters will never do. In my next post, I'll explain why some of these rules are wildly insulting to waiters and waitresses, why some of them are ridiculously silly, and why many more are simply not realistic given the reality of working in any restaurant. Also, I can't stand people who begin sentences with pretentious words like "herewith", and somebody at the New York Times needs to review how to spell basic contractions.

Herewith is a modest list of dos and don’ts(sic) for servers at the seafood restaurant I am building. Veteran waiters, moonlighting actresses, libertarians and baristas will no doubt protest some or most of what follows. They will claim it homogenizes them or stifles their true nature. And yet, if 100 different actors play Hamlet, hitting all the same marks, reciting all the same lines, cannot each one bring something unique to that role?

1. Do not let anyone enter the restaurant without a warm greeting.

2. Do not make a singleton feel bad. Do not say, “Are you waiting for someone?” Ask for a reservation. Ask if he or she would like to sit at the bar.

3. Never refuse to seat three guests because a fourth has not yet arrived.

4. If a table is not ready within a reasonable length of time, offer a free drink and/or amuse-bouche. The guests may be tired and hungry and thirsty, and they did everything right.

5. Tables should be level without anyone asking. Fix it before guests are seated.

6. Do not lead the witness with, “Bottled water or just tap?” Both are fine. Remain neutral.

7. Do not announce your name. No jokes, no flirting, no cuteness.

8. Do not interrupt a conversation. For any reason. Especially not to recite specials. Wait for the right moment.

9. Do not recite the specials too fast or robotically or dramatically. It is not a soliloquy. This is not an audition.

10. Do not inject your personal favorites when explaining the specials.

11. Do not hustle the lobsters. That is, do not say, “We only have two lobsters left.” Even if there are only two lobsters left.

12. Do not touch the rim of a water glass. Or any other glass.

13. Handle wine glasses by their stems and silverware by the handles.

14. When you ask, “How’s everything?” or “How was the meal?” listen to the answer and fix whatever is not right.

15. Never say “I don’t know” to any question without following with, “I’ll find out.”

16. If someone requests more sauce or gravy or cheese, bring a side dish of same. No pouring. Let them help themselves.

17. Do not take an empty plate from one guest while others are still eating the same course. Wait, wait, wait.

18. Know before approaching a table who has ordered what. Do not ask, “Who’s having the shrimp?”

19. Offer guests butter and/or olive oil with their bread.

20. Never refuse to substitute one vegetable for another.

21. Never serve anything that looks creepy or runny or wrong.

22. If someone is unsure about a wine choice, help him. That might mean sending someone else to the table or offering a taste or two.

23. If someone likes a wine, steam the label off the bottle and give it to the guest with the bill. It has the year, the vintner, the importer, etc.

24. Never use the same glass for a second drink.

25. Make sure the glasses are clean. Inspect them before placing them on the table.

26. Never assume people want their white wine in an ice bucket. Inquire.

27. For red wine, ask if the guests want to pour their own or prefer the waiter to pour.

28. Do not put your hands all over the spout of a wine bottle while removing the cork.

29. Do not pop a champagne cork. Remove it quietly, gracefully. The less noise the better.

30. Never let the wine bottle touch the glass into which you are pouring. No one wants to drink the dust or dirt from the bottle.

31. Never remove a plate full of food without asking what went wrong. Obviously, something went wrong.

32. Never touch a customer. No excuses. Do not do it. Do not brush them, move them, wipe them or dust them.

33. Do not bang into chairs or tables when passing by.

34. Do not have a personal conversation with another server within earshot of customers.

35. Do not eat or drink in plain view of guests.

36. Never reek from perfume or cigarettes. People want to smell the food and beverage.

37. Do not drink alcohol on the job, even if invited by the guests. “Not when I’m on duty” will suffice.

38.Do not call a guy a “dude.”

39. Do not call a woman “lady.”

40. Never say, “Good choice,” implying that other choices are bad.

41. Saying, “No problem” is a problem. It has a tone of insincerity or sarcasm. “My pleasure” or “You’re welcome” will do.

42. Do not compliment a guest’s attire or hairdo or makeup. You are insulting someone else.

43. Never mention what your favorite dessert is. It’s irrelevant.

44. Do not discuss your own eating habits, be you vegan or lactose intolerant or diabetic.

45. Do not curse, no matter how young or hip the guests.

46. Never acknowledge any one guest over and above any other. All guests are equal.

47. Do not gossip about co-workers or guests within earshot of guests.

48. Do not ask what someone is eating or drinking when they ask for more; remember or consult the order.

49. Never mention the tip, unless asked.

50. Do not turn on the charm when it’s tip time. Be consistent throughout.

Next week: 51-100.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Update: HIV Travel Ban

Reports are appearing that on October 22, the Dept. of Health and Human Services sent the final ruling that will lift the ban on admitting HIV+ travelers or immigrants to the US. The Office of Management and Budget must review the final ruling within 60 days, meaning the ban would be lifted no later than December 21. There are reports suggesting the actual date will be before the end of this month.

HIV will no longer be considered a "communicable disease of public health significance", meaning you can't get HIV from anyone just by allowing them in to your country. As such, it will no longer be grounds for inadmissibility.

And 20 years of bigotry, at least on this issue, is over.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Haloween Dogs -Final Edition

There are more but I can't just post a week of dog photos. I'll put the rest up on my Flickr page in a day or two.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Haloween Parade - East Village

I'm not even sure where to start or what to post first. As always, New Yorkers don't do anything half-assed, well, except for the lady who attached a store-bought balloon to her dog's collar and a hand-made sign with the name "Falcon" on it and tried to pass that off as a balloon boy "costume". But the creativity of the rest of the dog owners seemed to be limitless. As I was leaving for the afternoon, after wandering around for almost two hours snapping pictures, a trio of people showed up pulling a rather large wagon with a concert stage set on it. All for the 4 Chihuahuas dressed as the Beatles from their Sgt.Pepper album.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Gone To The Dogs

Anybody who doesn't care for dogs or doesn't care for how much I go on about dogs will not enjoy this blog for a couple of days, as I snapped a bunch of ridiculously cute doggie photos that I will be posting as fast as I can edit them. For now, here's my favorite (click for larger):

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Sunday In The Park

Tompkins Square Park, that is. Where, it seems you will find me, my dog and most certainly my camera for both the Freak Fest and Halloween Dog Costume Parade. Details below.

Thursday, October 22, 2009


This afternoon I had a lunchtime meeting as a member of the Community Advisory Board for Callen-Lorde. A bunch of monitors from one of the state HIV/AIDS funding agencies were in the area and they wanted to meet with members of the CAB, as well as health care providers, administrators and other clients to get a read on where the money is going, how it can be better spent etc. So they buy us sandwiches and Snapple and ask us a bunch of questions regarding the services we use, how we like them, where we can suggest improvements. Kind of a dog and pony show, as I'm sure that they have to generate these reports to secure the funding, and the agencies have to issue these reports to justify getting tax dollars every year. Still it's nice to be able to participate in the process.

After that I was bicycling back across town, planning to stop off at the gym before heading home. I am due at work in New Jersey late this afternoon. As I was enjoying the blue sky and warm breeze, it occurred to me that considering it's late October and the trees have already started to turn color and shed leaves, we may not have another sunny day in the 70's for a few months, and perhaps going inside to the gym would not be the best use of my time.

I've been feeling a little guilty lately as I feel like Riley needs a lot more activity than I've been able to provide. When I take him for a walk he frequently bursts out of the front door, off the porch and down to the sidewalk. His walk usually consists of him tugging me back and forth along the sidewalk, him hunting for scraps of food or the occasional live mouse. Once in a while I am able to get him out to the basketball courts across the street, providing school isn't in session, and we have a nice game of catch, not to be confused with fetch, as Riley doesn't bring the ball back. He chases it down and then waits for you to come and retrieve it. To his credit, he does easily give the ball up to start the process again.

So today rather than spend my afternoon inside the gym I biked back home and picked up a ball and Riley. We walked down to Tompkins Square Park and spent about 45 minutes playing with other rambunctious pooches and having a nice session of catch. I came home in time to write a quick post, change my clothes and grab a quick snack before I have to peddle back across town to the PATH to NJ. Riley is sacked out on the couch, sound asleep already.

Time well spent.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

New York City Health Dept. Ignores HIV Prevention In Young People

In a September hearing with the New York City Council and officials from the Health Department as well as various HIV/AIDS services organizations, figures were released that showed HIV diagnosis numbers for under 30 MSM were rising. There were 430 reported cases in 2001 and 592 in 2008.

In response, the assistant commissioner for the Bureau of HIV/AIDS Prevention and Control at the health department has unleashed ... wait for it .. "some Internet programs, and we have some survey instruments that are out there for young MSM... where they congregate, and these are things that have been done in the last 15 months."

That's right folks, nothing to worry about. The Health Department is taking a survey, But they haven't gotten any of the survey data back yet so for now, in 15 months time, that's all they have accomplished.

Your tax dollars in action. Read here.

Friday, October 16, 2009


Amazing video from Australia, terrifying to watch but it ends well so go ahead.

In other exclamation point news, I've been meaning to mention this one, from my "When Animals Attack" file. An Ohio golfer, vacationing in South Carolina attempted to retrieve his errant ball from a pond. Instead, a 10 foot long alligator bit his arm off at the elbow. I would have just taken the penalty stroke. Here's the story.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Bash Back!

Here's the video every gay blog should be carrying today. It's surveillance cam footage of the brutal beating in the street of Queens man Jack Price. Mr. Price, all of 5 foot 6 and 130 pounds, was also my age. He is now in a medically-induced coma with a fractured jaw, fractured ribs and a lacerated spleen.

Just so nobody can say I never warned you, I would like to state publicly that if some smart-ass teenage boy or 20-something man comes near me in the middle of the night, or gets out of a car as I'm walking down the street, the minute I hear the words "faggot" or "fucking faggot" or anything else I perceive as a threat, I will FUCK YOU UP. I don't care if I have to pick up a garbage can, a broken bottle, or if I just have to nail you in the balls and then shove your broken nose all the way back in to your brain, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you put me in the hospital without taking you with me. The reason gay men are beaten in the street is because cowards like these two, emboldened by the Glenn Becks and the Rush Limbaughs and the Maggie Gallaghers in this world, have it in their heads that we are an easy target. As soon as we start beating these vicious little bastards until there is nothing left but a pulpy wet spot on the sidewalk, the gay bashing will stop once and for all. I don't care if I go to jail. I WILL NOT BE BEATEN UP BY ANYBODY!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

What Time Is It?

Cute (?) Miniature Wall Clock measuring half a foot in diameter, with hand painted image of the AIDS virus in the blood stream.

15 minutes to full-blown AIDS.

A quarter past sero-conversion.

You really can buy this objet d'art here.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Quit Yer Bitchin'

A while back I mentioned that I was enjoying the blog stuy town's Lux Living. To refresh your memory of what it's all about, here's the summary quote taken from the bottom footer of the blog:

Stuyvesant Town offers one, two, three, and five bedroom, luxury rental residences and college dorm rooms in the heart of downtown Manhattan. Set within a poorly landscaped 80-acre park, the spacious apartments often suffer utility outages, brown water, and deadly mold outbreaks. “Amenities” include a gym, resident’s lounge, kid’s playroom, screening room and study for a one-time fee of $250 and a monthly charge of $25, with additional fees for gym use. On-site parking, easy access to mass transportation on one side of the complex, and 24-hour on-site security that rarely respond when called. Situated near nicer neighborhoods like Gramercy Park, the Flat Iron District, Union Square and right next door to an unstable Con Edison power plant, Stuytown gives you more reason to loathe your space. Come see for yourself!

I found the blog amusing in a sort of David Vs. Goliath way, as Tishman-Speyer is one of the largest real estate companies in Manhattan. Being a bit of a rabble-rouser myself, I enjoyed reading some of the rants about the bureaucracies, security problems and inevitable change that comes with new ownership.

But lately I've been getting more and more sick of reading a blog that could just be called New Yorkers Against Everything, as the site has devolved into rants against children, bikers, dogs, security, college kids, people that walk on grass, people that smoke grass, college kids with dogs, recycling, security on bikes and anything else that you can bitch and complain about. To wit:

(from a parent too lazy and stupid to stop his/her child from running eyeball first into a sign)-I have an almost 2 year old son who loves to run around. Some genius at Tishman decided to put all around PCV metal signs that say not to allow dogs on the grass. But, the metal signs are the PERFECT height for kids to run into AND they are so sharp all around the sides they will cause injuries. My son has already run into one and discovered the nice shiny long sharp screws sticking out of the back as well.

(from a concerned adult plagued by worries about the deadly carbon emissions of golf carts)-My favorite will always be the post-911 (cough!) maintenance buggies driving on the sidewalks blowing diesel fumes into the faces of little kids, some already asthmatic, on their way to PS40 elementary school.

(From "her", and she hates dogs and ugly grass)
-However having a dog run would be terrible for the people who live over it. I face the oval and am sick and tired of the howling and barking especially when the noise wakes me up at 6am the noise really echos.
Every day I see disrespectful dog owners letting their animals deficate (sic) on the lawn, sidewalks and dog off leashes. I have been her (sic) 60 yrs. and
long for the days when rules were for everyone, the grass was beautiful,
I did not have to look down when I walked and I could enjoy a decent
nights rest without the howling. To all the dog owners who disrespect your neighbors and the property, and you know who you are, your animal does not have more rights than your fellow residence (sic). So get
your acts together and follow the rule.

(Someone complains to security about broken glass in the playground. Isn't that maintenance?)-A resident called security when he first arrived at the playground this morning but there was no answer. The resident then went to a nearby building to use the lobby intercom to try and contact security. When security finally picked up they told the resident they put out a call to have it cleaned up a while ago but would put in another call. When the dangerous glass still wasn't picked up an hour later, the tenant placed a third call to security who snapped "I just got the call" and hung up. Two hours after that call the above photo was taken of the glass which had yet to be picked up. (How about you stop wasting half the day making calls on your rotary phone, turn off your Amos & Andy radio program and sweep up the fucking glass if you are so worried?)

(Get off my lawn!)-You obviously remember what this place was like before the onslaught of 'quality of life crimes' were inflicted on the pioneer residents (I'm sure I'm gonna take flak for that comment...). Grass was for looking at, not walking on. If there was a fire, the fire department was called (a spatula was not involved). And security guards rode around in Cushman carts--if they were lucky. The landscaping was remarkable instead of gaudy.

(No biking, no scooters, no fun of any kind. And stop all that infernal laughing!)-And why is there a ban on bike riding but not scooters? Have you seen some of those children? They barrel though the oval in packs like bats out of hell with little or no disregard to the people and pets around them. Twice this week I have seen kids once knocking into an elderly lady and on a different occasion nearly hitting a small dog that was on a leash walking very close to its owner. Meanwhile the parents are too involved in their gabfests to pay any attention to their kids getting screamed at by people they hit.

(I'm not kidding, this is because there was a streak of soapy water on the floor
-"WTF? At about 12:30am I come home and look what I find, some dumb ass college kid dragged his SOAPY LAUNDRY through my T level lobby."

I think that last "my T level lobby" just about sums it up. Some of these people were born and raised in Stuy Town, and some of them have a really overdeveloped sense of entitlement, particularly since they are only renting, albeit many of them are paying prices nobody has seen since the 1950-60's. They have dug their heels in and are fighting tooth and nail any and all changes that would upset their perfect little insular community. Well surprise folks, time marches on whether you choose to participate and/or acknowledge it or not, and unless you all decide to quit your incessant bitching and moaning and carrying on long enough to band together and somehow buy a stake in this development that would give you some kind of representation, you run the risk of being branded a bunch of stupid, set-in-your ways angry cranks. In which case the rest of the complex will likely wait until you die off and stand around watching as they wheel your tiny little gray rigor-mortis clenched body out of your apartment, all while they are waiting to pick over the remains of whatever possessions your surviving family decides to leave out at the curb. Whether or not it's a designated recycle day.

Thursday, October 08, 2009

Working For Tips

I am not the kind of bartender that thinks every time I do the least little thing or make you a drink you should give me a dollar. I don't get all pissy when someone comes up to the bar and all they need is a glass of water. Since I tend bar at events and weddings and corporate meetings, the bar is frequently included with the package. Meaning people don't have to pay. And the event host is usually paying around $150.00 to the hotel for the services of a bartender.

But I don't get that money. I do get paid, and it's above minimum wage, but that $150 is what the hotel bills the client. And it certainly has nothing to do with the guests at all. Now if you are at a party or event and you just come to the bar for a glass of wine or two, a couple of sodas, a martini before the buffet or whatever, I don't think you need to worry about giving me a tip necessarily. It would be nice, but you won't get the stank eye or the under the breath mutter from me if you don't. That's what my hourly pay covers.

But if you are hitting that open bar like it's your basement rec room, and I am making you drink after drink, beer after beer, like the cheap-ass alcoholics I took care of for 4 1/2 hours last night, you really ought to leave a couple of dollars on the bar during the course of the night.

I literally made a couple of these corporate drunks 15 cocktails over the course of their event. One guy had at least 10 beers, and he had them all poured in to a glass with a salted rim and lime. I opened up 5 bottles of house champagne, which three people guzzled like they were drinking France's finest vintage. A lot of them kept bringing glass after glass, half-full up to the bar for me to "top that off". I guess that's a way to make it seem like you aren't ordering 12 glasses of wine. Newsflash, you are. And what did I make in tip money for 4 1/2 hours indulging these corporate fuckwads? Nothing. Not a dollar the entire night.

Cheap-ass motherfuckers. You suck.

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Bing! Went The Strings Of My Fart

I apologize in advance for that title. All right, no I don't it made me laugh.

According to SiteMeter, I've been getting a few visits from Bing searches. Most of them are some variation of my full name, or just Tom and my last name, or even my name and New York, NY. Since most of the searches originate in New York as well, it leads me to believe that these are prospective employers searching my name on the interwebs. So they would find out pretty quickly that I'm middle aged, gay, a recovering alcoholic and HIV+. Gee, I wonder why I don't get called more often for interviews?

But that's not the part that bothers me. What bothers me is that the Bing search result seems to be pointed at my blog for the month of September back in 2004. The entire month is highlighted, and it inexplicably starts with the following quote:

"Hello, my name is Tom and I fart."

Now I did in fact write that, and now is not the time to be backing away from 5 years of blog posts, just because one happens to be a tad embarrassing in retrospect. The fact that I have chosen to leave the graphic depictions of my past sexual encounters is not something that I didn't carefully consider. Besides, my opus to my flatulence is definitely a thread in the tapestry I've woven regarding the entire reason why I started this blog in the first place. And that was to document HIV from diagnosis to wherever it may lead. Or I get tired. Whichever comes first.

If anything I owe you, my tens of readers, an update. So here's the fresh poop on my 2004 gaseous confession. At some point treating my HIV greatly diminished the capacity of my internal fart factory. I now consider myself a perfectly average farter. Oh, I'm not going to try and cast myself in a wonderful light and claim I never fart at all anymore. As a matter of fact ... ahh, I just did. But the great, rumbling thunderous farting that lasted for hours night after night ...

I don't fart like that any more. So you can Bing me all you want and find out that I'm getting old and I no longer drink and I'm being successfully treated for HIV, but don't you assume that all I do every night is sit around and fart.

Monday, October 05, 2009

End Of The World 2012

Here's some ridiculously overdone but still kind of cool footage that was just released from the upcoming mega-disaster movie 2012. California slips in to the sea. And with it, hopefully whatever heinous chef first invented fish tacos. Blecccch.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

Now In HD

So I bought a new 32" HDTV.

And I managed to bring it home under the $500 limit that my dad's gambling largess would allow. I did let the salesperson move me off of the model I had picked out to another brand that was $50 more, with the promise of a higher contrast ratio. I have no actual idea if this is really that important, nor if it was verifiably true. But I repeatedly refused his multiple offers to sign me up for "insurance", and while I found it amusing, had he asked me again or tried a harder sell I would have crossed over in to annoyed.

What was annoying was when he repeatedly tried to sell me an HDMI cable. Now to tell the truth, I had no idea what kind of cable connections it would take to hook up my system, although I was aware I might have to buy something to make the system work. But I've done enough research and bought enough new tech to know not to buy the extra "junk" the salesman is trying to push on you because you may not need it, and you can probably get it cheaper elsewhere. HDMI cable runs in price at the store I was at from $40 to $200. Do you want to bet he wouldn't have shown me the $40 package?

When I got home and hooked the TV up, it became clear that my digital cable box would need to be switched for an HD DVR, as the picture was just a standard square display and nothing special. The next morning I had an hour to run out to Time-Warner and get the new box. Whereupon they handed me the FREE HDMI cable that the salesperson at the TV store tried to get me to buy. And considering he knew that I was a Time-Warner customer I would have to say he was trying to sell me crap I didn't need.

In any case, after I hooked up the Hi-Def cable the screen displayed at the full 31.5" and HUZZAH!, angels began to sing as glorious big-screen (for me) TV began to air throughout the land. Or my living room. I wept a little as I had leave for work when all I wanted to do was fiddle with the color settings and watch a movie.

But here's the thing about this whole TV upgrade. I am excited about the new TV and very thankful that mom and dad were generous with their windfall to make it happen. But I also took the opportunity, as long as I was running cables and moving furniture, to re-arrange the living room and run all the cables from my desktop in the bedroom, along the baseboards and behind all the furniture in the living room. Then I clipped them up with cord clasps, and wired them all together with Velcro twist ties. And as much as I am enjoying my new TV and my HD DVR, the highlight of the whole operation was the fact that all my cords are now running out of sight, all together along the baseboards, and I managed to reclaim about 2 feet of living room space in the process. I also swept up about a pound of dog hair.

And that's probably all you need to know about the real me.

Friday, October 02, 2009

Just Wondering

A report courtesy of CBS news about the attempted ASS-assination (HAR!) of the Saudi Arabian prince by an Al Qaeda bomber using explosives shoved up his ass. I remember after the attempted in flight shoe-bomb a few years ago, airport security, that crack team of highly trained (HAR! HAR!) investigators securing American airline passengers, started forcing us to remove our loafers so as to inspect us for copycat shoe bombs. As if I would ruin a pair of my precious kicks just to explode up an airplane.

So what potentially fun and possibly enjoyable new way will the NTSB and the occasional hot latin airport security screener come up with for inspecting our butt-holes for Ass Bombs? And where do I sign up?

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