Friday, June 29, 2007


Grey's Anatomy's Isaiah Washington is not only a homophobe, but a crybaby, too.

Here's what he had to say in this week's Newsweek magazine:

"My mistake was thinking black people get second chances. I was wrong on all fronts," he said.

"Well, it didn't help me on the set that I was a black man who wasn't a mush-mouth Negro walking around with his head in his hands all the time. I didn't speak like I'd just left the plantation and that can be a problem for people sometime," he said.

Honey, you were canned because you called your castmate a faggot, not because you are a "poor black man living in white America." I work everyday in the entertainment industry, and we don't put up with homophobes or racists.

I have a feeling this man believes his shit smells like roses, too.

Adios, Mr. Washington, I'll see you in summer stock, because your career is over.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007


Why does the media continue to give Ann "Cunt" Coulter a national platform to air her crazy and hateful views?

Quiet frankly, I don't know what I hate more, her tacky 80's black pumps and cocktail dresses (it's painfully obvious no fag will give her his queer eye) or her evil opinions.

Her recent attacks on John Edwards and his dying wife are just plain despicable.

She is definitely one person I'd love to slug in the face.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007


Hey bloggers - MM has been lazy with the blog. I have been busy planning my big gay cruise to the Baltic Sea - I leave in mid-July for 2 weeks of fun and debauchery.

I am sailing on the Celebrity Constellation - a 5 star boat - only the best for us homos. I will be visiting Denmark, Estonia, Helsinki, St. Petersburg, Berlin and Stockholm.

I have much to do before I leave - hair color, Botox injections, workouts at the gym takes plenty of work to be this superficial.

Check back for more trip info. Read more about gay cruises on

Thursday, June 21, 2007


OK, I broke down and bought a small Pinkberry's yogurt with NO toppings for $4.

Was it worth it?

Hell, no. The yogurt had a sour taste and made my stomach bloat.

But I did find some good eats down the block.

Waiting for me on the corner of 14th street and 8th avenue was a Mexican food truck. Honey, the $2 tacos were heaven on earth and very authentic - corn tortillas loaded with chicken and laced with lime juice, sliced radishes and pickled peppers.

As I gobbled up my taco, I was suddenly surrounded by a group of Mexican hip-hop skateboarders. The hipster kids ordered their tacos and started break dancing while they waited for their eats.

It was 1 AM and I was being entertained by a group of ghetto fabulous Mexican kids while enjoying the best $2 taco in town.

Only in New York, kids.

Monday, June 18, 2007


Frozen yogurt, that fast food relic from the 80s, has taken Manhattan by storm.

Let me explain:

Los Angeles export Pinkberry’s has opened its doors in the city. The lines are 90 minutes long. I mean, some folks even bring books to read while in queue.

Who’s waiting?

Not the queens, us gays are way too busy and smart for that. No, the line is full of str8 couples with nothing better to do.

I asked a man how long he waited for his small cup of yogurt with several fruit toppings – and what he paid.

The answer: 90 minutes and $8.45 for his frozen treat.

I’m sorry, but I have better things to do with 90 minutes and a $10 bill.

I walked a few blocks to McDonald’s for a chocolate frozen yogurt from the dollar menu.


Fucking delicious.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007


Last weekend, after an all night vodka fest in Queens, my married man and I took the N train back to Manhattan. As luck would have it, the train broke down on Central Park South and Fifth Avenue. Still half in the bag, we decided to walk down Fifth Avenue to my East Village apartment.

But first we need nourishment, so we ducked into a Starbucks and ordered soy lattes and bagels. As we noshed our caffeinated selves down Fifth Avenue, we suddenly discovered ourselves in front of Tiffany’s.

As we held our hot javas and bagels, it dawned on us we were having Breakfast at Tiffany’s ala Holly Golightly. Of course, we weren’t wearing Givenchy shifts or rhinestone tiaras, but we were recreating a moment that put thousands of girls and gay boys on the road to New York City.

I smiled.

It’s moments such as this that keep me in Manhattan.

Monday, June 11, 2007


The Sopranos ended it's 10-year run on HBO last night.

As terror and impending doom paced the final moments, the screen suddenly faded to black.

What? My cable went out?

Then the credits started to roll.

At first, I was disappointed, but on second thought....what a brilliant ending. Like life itself, you never know what's around the corner.

I don't think Tony and his family met a "Bonnie and Clyde" style ending. No, I think the Soprano's sat in their booth eating onion rings and listening to Journey.

Saturday, June 09, 2007


I was caught in the act today.

Let me explain:

I was at Trader Joe's meandering about searching for vodka for my black bitches - my trademark cocktail of choice consisting of vodka and diet coke. Out of the corner of my queer eye, I saw the hottest guy in the world - tall, dark and let's have some. Of course, I checked him out, but when I looked up, I was greeted by a sly smirk on his not-too-pretty girlfriend/wife's face.

What do you do at that moment? I mean, I was clocked. I grabbed my vodka and ran to the cashier. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and it was the girlfriend/wife smiling at me. She looked at my budget bottle of vodka and casually mentioned that her boyfriend/husband had some fabulous Russian vodka at his apartment that we could share. The boyfriend/husband was smiling, too. Suddenly, it dawned on me: These two were trolling for threesomes at Trader Joe's.

I'm sorry, I might do eggroll, but I don't do sushi. I mean, a boy has to draw the line somwhere.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007


Last week I worked on a project with Carolyn Kepcher - you know, the bitchy blonde from Donald Trump's The Apprentice. Well, she was fired by Donald for getting "caught up" in her own fame, so she decided to start a company to help women in the workplace.

Ok, sounds great.

Well, she showed up at the shoot in a thigh-high mini, a sleeveless hot-pink top and stiletto heels. Oh, and she's border line anorexic and bleached blonde. I'm sorry, but I don't think the image of a 14th street hooker is a good role model for working women, right? Last time I checked, dressing like a prostitue isn't welcome in the workplace.

Anyways, I kept looking at her shoes - kinda scuffed and cheap looking. Half-way through the day, obviously in pain, she slipped off her stilettos. I craned my neck and noticed the shoes were by Nine West!

Yes, Nine West - the cheapest shoes in the world.

Does anyone else fiind that odd?

Monday, June 04, 2007


In Manhattan, we could care less about the price of gas. I mean, very few of us own cars, and the ones that do are filthy rich, so the price of fuel really isn't an issue.

But what does bother me is the price of coffee.

Last week I was walking around Soho - the capital of euro-trash - when I popped into a funky little joint for an iced coffee to go. I pulled out a five dollar bill - surely that would cover it.

No, the cashier looked me dead in the eye: "That will be $6.25, please."

Now this was not a latte, foamy, extra shot, light, vente mocha bullshit coffee - just a plain iced coffee.

From now on, I'm sticking to my $1.84 plain Starbucks.