2000 FAGS ON A BOAT (PART 5) BELINDA CARLISLE HAS PANTY LINES

Every gay cruise has a surprise “star” performance. On previous trips, the “star” – and I use that term extremely loosely – has been Debbie “Only in My Dreams” Gibson, Charo and Joan Rivers.

I know, has-beens one and all.

On the Baltic’s, we were joined by Go-Go Belinda Carlisle. She croaked out her various solo and Go-Go hits with a blasé smile plastered on her face. Clad in a drab "garden party" pantsuit sans shoes, it was obvious as she robotically sang along to a backing track that she was in disbelief that her career had been reduced to singing on a floating resort to a bunch of drunken queens.

During a flat performance of “Circle in the Sand”, one queen leaped from the front row and screamed:

“Belinda – your music saved my life.”

As I contained my laughter from such an idiotic statement, Belinda just smirked at the poor soul and moved to the other side of the stage.

So how is the old gal holding up? I wish I could say my lips were sealed, but that isn't me, is it?

For starters, her face had that odd taut and shiny appearance ala Nicole Kidman from too much Botox and filler; and her neck looked a little bunchy from an ill-fated neck lift, but for 51 she looked pretty good.

What really surprised me were the visible panty lines on her wide pancake flat ass. I mean, I know she lives in southern France, but hasn’t she heard of Spanx? I just wanted to yell outloud..."Bitch, you got pantylines!"

As one old queen sitting behind me said before storming out mid- show….

“For the love of God, she can’t even sing, and for all the money we paid for this trip, she could at least put on a nice dress and a pair of Jimmy Choos.”

2000 FAGS ON A BOAT (PART 4) THE LOWER FACE

What I've discovered on the boat is that gay men of all ages tend to dress like teenage boys....well, some can get away with it, and others cannot.

I mean, you can wear all the A & F gear you want; and stuff your face to the brim with botox and fillers, but what gives away your age more than anything is a saggy lower face.

You know, double chins, slack jawlines, droopy jowls. I mean, if you're gonna dress like a teenager, at least have the good sense to scrutinize your face and take appropriate action with your surgeon.

2000 FAGS ON A BOAT (PART 3) EUROPE

I just adore Europe.

I love the delicious cappuccinos, the yummy yogurts and creamy gelatos - not to mention the nice and stylish people.

Here is a list of things I love about Europe.

1) No screaming brats. Never in my American life have I seen so many happy and quiet children. I mean, no ghetto mothers or white trailer trash mothers allowed - you know the kind, the ones who let their children run wild and cart them around in strollers at 1 am.

2) No fat people. OK, maybe 10 pounds overweight, but absolutely no hefty hideaway jumbos in sight.

3) The laid back lifestyle. I love that no one seems to be in a hurry - and the work weeks are shorter and the vacations longer. I mean, everyone seems so happy and content.

4) Fabulous music. The radio and MTV actually play a diverse selection of music - not just ghetto rap like in America.

5) I love that Sundays are total leisure time - no rush to get shopping done or extra work. The cities are dead and the seaside resorts are full of smiling people on the seventh day.

6) Tons of fresh fruit.

7) The nerve to name a store Topman.

8) No George Bush in charge - nuff' said.

2000 FAGS ON A BOAT (PART 2) COPENHAGEN

Today, after an exhausting layover in Amsterdam, we arrived in Copenhagen, Denmark – the start of the big gay cruise.

The temperature was a chilly 50 degrees, but that didn’t stop the locals from eating ice cream. I mean, wherever we walked the tall, blonde and painfully thin Danes were eating ice cream. I think the reason the Danes stay so thin is their love of bike riding – yes, like Amsterdam, everyone young or old uses a bicycle as their mode of transportation.

As a New Yorker, what I found odd was the lack of bicycle locks. I mean, loose bikes were just standing or leaning all over the place just waiting to be stolen. Apparently, crime is very low in Denmark. Also, Danes never jaywalk - even with zero traffic, huge crowds of Danes will wait patiently until the light turns green before entering the crosswalk.

As for style, the trendy Danes sport super low-slung jeans with Puma sneakers. Most of the men are oddly attractive with short foreheads, thick brow bones and wide high-bridged noses. Apparently, in some survey, Danes were reported to be the happiest in the world; and I have to say this appears to be true. I mean, couples of all ages were out and about at all hours holding hands and mingling with smiles on their faces.

The coolest thing about Copenhagen is Tivoli Gardens – a huge amusement park that Walt Disney used as a model for his Disneyland. At night, amidst the glittering rides, restaurants and colorful gardens, 70’s band Tower of Power played on the main stage.

On the boat that evening, our gay entertainment was the highly touted Bjorn Again singing Abba hits. My look this summer has been wearing bandanas around my head ala Axel Rose and leatherette wristbands. Ok, I admit on my femmy face and retro-feathered hair it comes off more Olivia Newton John Physical than Guns and Roses, but what the hell. At our lobster dinner that night, a queen from Kansas City looked at me and laughed in a loud cheery voice:

“Oh, how cool – you’re in costume for the Abba show tonight.”

No, I replied, this is how I dress all the time.

Yes, a freak amongst freaks, that’s me.

2000 FAGS ON A BOAT (PART 1)

Let me begin with this: Gay cruises are nothing like straight cruises.

I mean, for starters, the boat’s fun factor runs 24 hours a day; and there is no formal attire required, no pre-arranged seating and no cheesy entertainment – in fact, all of the entertainment is gay oriented from drag queens to gay comedians, to gay hypnotists to gay cabaret singers to gay Djs to gay icons (Belinda Carlisle) to gay movies on your cabin television.

Honey, it’s just one big gay extravaganza.

As one tiny filipino waitress told me in broken English over throbbing disco music at 4 am…”The gay cruise is the best cruise…no old people and you people drink and dance all night.”

The boat we sailed on was the Celebrity Constellation – the #1 rated boat in the industry. Yes, only the best for us queens.

The majority of my trendy downtown gay friends were aghast that I would spend a few weeks with 2000 mainstream homos, but I found it refreshing. I mean, being around 2000 normal queers was enlightening insomuch as it busted my lifestyle bubble that is Manhattan. In NYC, most gays are trim, tan and tattooed and think a relationship is something they share with their gym trainers. On the boat it was interesting to meet gays of all shapes and ages that have been in committed relationships for years and years.

But one thing kept nagging at me with certain couples that claimed to be monogamous. I mean, what happens sexually when one partner stays young and sexy while the other partner grows fat and ugly? It’s kind of like a George and Barbara Bush thing – and we all know he ain’t fucking grandma.

The trip continues tomorrow.

ALMOST HOME

Check back next week, kids - MM has tons of gay stories from my big gay cruise to share.

BIG GAY VACATION

Hello bloggers - MM is cruising the Baltic Sea for 10 days - I'm sure I will have plenty of pictures and tales of debauchery on the high seas in just a few weeks - stay tuned.

A DOG'S LIFE

Only on the island of Manhattan do dogs eat as well as humans.

Let me explain:

My pal Terri has a splendid pitbull that is as cute as it is well behaved. Over dinner last night, she informed me that she feeds her pooch organic buffalo meat from Whole Foods.

Apparently, her dog has "food allergies" and a "finicky" tummy.

My dog lived for 17 years on a diet of Gaines Burgers and Liver Snaps.

Only in New York City, kids.

TOP DIVORCE

Controversial author Salman Rushdie and "Top Chef" host Padma Lakshmi are getting divorced.

I'm surprised she stayed married so long...I mean, can you imagine sleeping with that?

I guess now that she has her own money, she can kiss his old ass goodbye.

MOVING ON UP?

Manhattan is losing one of its landmarks. Worse, it’s moving to Las Vegas.

Famed punk palace CBGB’s is shuttering it’s doors. The club that launched the careers of Blondie, The Ramones and The B-52s has met up with the genocide known as gentrification. Located on the Bowery, the club is now sharing street space with fancy restaurants that are crowded with Connecticut cunts drinking million dollar soy lattes.

Personally, I knew the club’s days were numbered when I visited Minnesota and witnessed hordes of Minnesota yuppies sporting t-shirts emblazoned with the club’s logo. It also didn’t help when pretend punk Avril Lavigne – a former country performer!! – wore the t-shirt in her videos.

Now the club is being dismantled and taken to a Las Vegas museum.

Sad.

GROW UP PUSSY

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.

THE C WORD

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.

SUMMER

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 etc..it takes plenty of work to be this superficial.

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

TACO TIME

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.

PINKBERRY'S

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.

Verdict?

Fucking delicious.

A MANHATTAN MOMENT

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.

THE END?

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.

TRADER JOE'S PLUS ONE

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.

THE CHEAP SHOE

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?

GAS PRICES

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.

MARRIED MEN

I'm seeing a married man - and the sex is incredible. I mean, the man is hot to trot from the time he walks in the door to the time he leaves.

Did I mention the sex is hot?

I can't believe his wife doesn't know her husband is a tad light in the loafers. I mean, he's pumped up like a Chelsea queen, but he has one-thing most gay boys don’t: Body hair – and I love it.

I've had gal pals in the past tell me that wedding rings were an aphrodisiac, but I never believed them.

Well, honey, in this case it's true.

Judge me all you want, but every boy should play the other woman at least once.

ROSIE, I'M GONNA MISS YA

Love her or hate her, you have to admit she had balls - and those balls made good TV.

I mean, unlike everyone else on the boob tube, Rosie - because of her vast wealth - wasn't afraid of shit - and that includes ABC and Barbara Walters.

It's refreshing to hear someone speak his or her views without fear of being fired etc....However, I do think it was rather cowardly of her to quit three weeks early. I mean, it does kinda look like she backed down to Elizabitch.

I'll miss you Rosie.

IDOL CHATTER

OK, here are my thoughts on last night's American Idol finale.

I adored it!

It was so tacky and over-the-top you would have to be an asshole not to like it. I loved the goofy and happy smiles on the Idol kids - it's not often you see so much joy in one place.

Joy or no joy, the show did have a few scary moments.

No more surgery for Smokey Robinson. I'm sorry, but he looked like an Asian puppet. I mean, men should never have their eyes done. Have we learned nothing from the mishaps of Kenny Rogers and Burt Reynolds? On the other side of the scalpel, Miss Gladys Knight took her midnight train last night and looked amazing. I don't know if she's had "work", but if so, the knife is her bestfriend.

I love Kelly Clarkson - what a voice! I mean, even though she's like your tacky cousin from the trailer park who talks with her mouth full, you gotta love her.

But honey, a piece of queer eye advice: get a full-length mirror. I mean, you are way too fat to be squeezed into a skinny mini with thigh-high boots. Honestly, I'm surprised Clive Davis didn't pull her off the stage. Same goes for the bellbottom beer belly-baring outfit she wore with Joe Perry - although she did sound amazing.

And poor Bette Midler - does she have the same stylist as Kelly? I mean, just because it's black, does not make it slimming. I'm sorry, but the Divine Miss M was out of tune and out of place.

I am a big fan of Paula Abdul. She's as loopy as Anna Nicole Smith, but that's her charm. And I don't blame her one iota if she's fucking all the male Idols - I wish I could, too. I love when she stands up and cheers, cries and dances with the performers. Say what you want, Miss Abdul is the only Idol judge to experience a #1 hit; and the only judge to ride the pop rollercoaster first hand.

I can't wait for next year.

PS - Yes, I did see the Rosie/Elizabitch fight. I admire feisty Elizabitch for holding her own, but Rosie was right - Elizabitch never did back up her "friend" when Fox accused Rosie of calling the American troops terrorists. I'm no fan of Muslims, but over 100,000 Iraqi civilians have been killed.... and who killed them?

I think we know the answer.

IS ANYONE SURPRISED?

In a nationwide survery - one of the most exhaustive ever conducted of American Muslim attitudes - found that one out of four - that 26 %!!! - young U.S. Muslims believe suicide bombings against innocent civilians are OK to defend Islam.

The nationwide survey also found widespread doubt that Islamic terrorists carried out the 9/11 attacks.

I've said it before, and I've seen it with my own two eyes, but now I have proof - Muslims are bad news.

IT'S HARD OUT THERE FOR A STR8 MAN

Life is different in the Midwest.

I have a few questions:

Why do all Midwestern women over the age of 25 have short lesbian-esque haircuts with bad highlights?

And why do all Midwestern women over 25 gain 40 pounds and wear high-waisted pleated “mom’ jeans, or worse yet, “mom” pleated khakis. I mean, I really do pity the str8 men in the Midwest.

I will never forget an Oprah episode about sexless marriages. Up on the stage were obese women complaining about a lack of intimacy in their marriages. Seated next to the fatties were their husbands who complained about the weight gain of their wives. The poor men sat there while Oprah and the other fatties berated the husbands for being unloving and superficial.

What bullshit.

Every woman knows that men like porn and pretty things, so I doubt these men would have dreamed they would be fucking a whale for the rest of their lives. I mean, get real – it’s not that hard to put down the fork, put some makeup on and go for a walk.

You know, it’s hard out there for a str8 man.

THE DEM TICKET

I've said it before and I'm saying it again.

The democratic 2008 ticket is going to be Gore/Obama.

Remember: You read it here first.

MELINDA NO-NECK

Thank Goodness the old lady is gone.

I mean, there is a reason this 29 year-old is a back-up singer - she has no pizazz whatsoever. And after last year's senior citizen winner Taylor Hicks, Idol needs some fresh blood to keep the franchise going.

My vote is for Blake.

CHANGES - MANHATTAN STYLE

I ran into an artist friend today that I had not seen in years. She was decked out in head-to-toe Prada and accessorized with a pale green Marc Jacobs’s handbag and a mouth full of perfect veneers. Needless to say, I was a tad shocked. I mean, the last time I saw her she was running around the East Village in a 70’s thrift store lime green leisure suit with matching platform shoes.

Over coffee she lavished me with photos of her fabulous loft and stories of her trips to Paris. She told me she had married rich and was deliriously happy.

As I sat there sipping my soy latte from a chipped cup in my low-slung jeans, which I had found in my hallway, I couldn’t help but to think how different we now were.

As if reading my mind, she spoke:

“You know, I just got sick of pretending that Goodwill clothes were chic and thrift store knick knacks gave my apartment individuality,” she deadpanned. “I was sick of dressing and living in other people’s lives – I wanted my own life.”

It made sense to me, but as I walked back to my thrift store and garbage can decorated apartment, it got me to thinking….can money buy happiness? I think it can – at least in Manhattan.

HELLO WHOOPI

It was announced that Academy Award winner Whoopi Goldberg will be replacing Rosie O on The View.

I think it's a good choice.

Whoopi is one of the rare performers - along with Barbra Streisand, Rita Moreno and Liza Minnelli - to win the grand slam - Oscar, Emmy, Grammy and Tony. To be the recipient of so many awards and to end up on The View is another blog entirely, but I swear I don't mean that in a bitchy way - OK, maybe I do.

I think Whoopi - no stranger to controversy - will keep The View's political pot - and ratings - boiling with her far left views; and poor preggers Elizabeth will no doubt have her hands full representing the Republican view.

However, Whoopi lacks the one thing that made Rosie so popular: compassion. Say what you will, but folks from both red and blue states loved Rosie. I mean, Rosie's strong opinions were always carefully balanced with her charity for children's causes and her tears for returning vets.

Somehow, I don't think Whoopi will generate the same kind of love from the audience.

BUSH

Bush's approval rating has dropped to an all-time low - 28 percent. I mean, that's 3 out of 4 Americans that despise him - including myself.

The last president to have such low numbers was Carter during the Iran hostage crisis. Carter left office somewhat disgraced, but he went on to a compassionate and remarkable post-president career that resulted in a Nobel Peace prize.

Somehow, I don't think Bush will be as lucky.

A FEW THINGS I HATE

Why do people wait in line at Trader Joe's with one carton of eggs for 30 minutes? I mean, do these people have a life? If I'm going to wait in line, it has to be for stuff that I can't get anywhere else - and I always buy in bulk, so I won't have to come back often.

Why do people who shop and work at health food stores always look so unhealthy and act so grumpy? Sometimes in life a good Big Mac is just what the doctor ordered.

Why do fat women always ride the elevator for one floor? I mean, there is a reason why your ass is so fat.

Why do people talk in movies? I think one should be allowed to carry and use a stun gun in theaters.

Why do people insist on wearing the new skinny jeans when they are far from skinny? Can anyone say full-length mirror? Please, buy one and use it.

LIFE'S A DRAG

With the Republican candidates slightly ahead in the polls, I think it's time to dissect these flip floppers.

Let's start with Giuliani (that's him in the photo above). He was a social Nazi when he ran NYC, and he helped destroy much of its bohemian charms, which paved the way for the Connecticut cunts and the Disney land feel of Times Square. And let's not forget how in a Hitler-esque way he tried to stop an art exhibit that featured a Virgin Mary constructed of cow dung.

Can anyone say free speech?

But he did have his good points: He marched in every gay pride parade; and when "Victor Victoria" was on Broadway, he dragged himself up in a wig and a dress for charity. And when his wife found out about Judi, he moved in with a gay couple. Oh, and he was pro-choice.

Now all of a sudden, he's telling the Christian right he would put conservative judges on the bench - meaning anti-abortion and anti-gay marriage.

Can anyone say flip-flop?

Ok, let's move on to flip flopper John McCain. In 2000, he called Jerry Falwell and others hate mongers "voices of intolerance".

Well, he's now giving speeches at Christian colleges.

Sure, he's a war hero, but is being a war hero something to be proud of? I'm not making judgments, just asking. Also, he's a hundred years old and all crippled up from his war injuries and can barely walk - I'm sorry, but in these times of terror, I want a president who can run as well as walk.

And finally, the one I depise the most is Mitt Romney. For starters, he's a Mormon. I'm sorry, but I've seen "Big Love" on HBO and these people are just plain crazy. I mean, this freak is against everything - abortion, stem cell research, gay marriage, civil unions and even domestic partner benefits!

This one scares me almost as much as George W. Bush.

GAY TODAY, GONE TOMORROW

There is a new phenomenon in Manhattan - the straight gay man.

Let me explain:

I'm not talking about the phony and ridiculous straight "Chelsea boys" with their tattoos and shaved heads who prance about like ballerinas while professing they are straight acting and appearing. NO NO NO!

I'm talking about straight men that actually like playing sports, drinking beer and hanging out with their buds. I mean, they have girlfriends, wives and kids, but they also like a little dick on the side. I've been reading about these men on sex sites for months, but I thought they were an urban myth like alligators in the sewers...until yesterday.

I was on a shoot for a fitness magazine; and I thought the model was straight as an arrow - he talked non-stop about his girlfriend and the "game" on the tube. He also kept complimenting me on my skin and my surgically enhanced lips. Hmmm...I thought.... let’s play this one out. I told him I had some acne cream he could use, but it was at my apartment.

He called and is coming over tomorrow to watch the game.

ROSIE

Well, I knew it was too good to last.

I'm talking about Rosie on The View.

Thanks to America's scariest lesbian, she turned a 10-year old snorefest into something worth watching. I mean, even if you hated her far left views, you have to agree that she made the show entertaining.

Who knows why she left...I don't think she was fired, because the ratings and reviews were superb. My guess is that the brass at ABC asked her to tone it down, but zillionaire Rosie said no dice.

I'll miss you Rosie.

IPOD PROBLEM

Ipods cause many problems from accidents to sore ear drums. Well, now add farts to that list of problems.

Let me explain.

I was at Crunch tonight sweating it out on the bike, when the rider next to me let out a series of disgusting farts.

No, I don't like fart jokes, and this ain't no joke. This guy had on his ipod, so he probably thought he could sneak out a little one. Well, honey, he squirted out a couple that were so loud I think Helen Keller heard them. I mean, heads turned.

So, dear ipod users, please remember that just because you don't hear your bodily noises, others do.

GOTTA LAUGH

I was out late Saturday night having coffee - an iced decaf soy latte with Splenda - when I heard the funniest thing.

One friend asked another:

"What celebrity do you most admire."

The friend answered without missing a beat:

"Oprah - because it's amazing someone so evil does so much good in the world."

I laughed myself silly.

CABARET

A few weeks back, I ran into Joel Grey and his “Dirty Dancing” nose-jobbed-herself-out-of-a job daughter Jennifer on Christopher Street. I mean, Mr. Grey and his impish face are hard to miss. I guess I was staring a tad too hard, because he stuck out his hand and introduced himself. I mumbled a few star struck words and I was on my way, but it got me to thinking of Mr. Grey’s Oscar-winning role in Cabaret; and what a landmark film it was.

Although Cabaret is 25 years old, it is as fresh and reverent in 2007 as it was in 1972. Filmed by famed Broadway director Bob Fosse, his Broadway meets Hollywood mish mash style is all the rage today, but in 1972 it was quite new. I mean, his eerie meandering cinematography is a mesmerizing visual visit to a 1930's Berlin that is both haunting and disturbingly beautiful.

The movie is based on a short story from Christopher Isherwood’s brilliant memoir Berlin Stories. The plot is simple: A collection of social misfits – gays, transsexuals, Jews, performers, drunks, gold diggers – that live their lives in and around a decadent cabaret. As the characters smile and cry amidst the poverty and ruin of post World War 1 Germany, Hitler and his Nazis are slowly gaining political strength that will forever change the social landscape – the divine innocence would soon be gone.

The film won eight Oscars. Unfortunately, like many classic films, the actors that embodied the roles so brilliantly were forever pigeonholed. Liza Minnelli, now considered a haggard media joke, so embodied the part of Sally Bowles it stunted her career. But no matter how many gay men she weds or how many Letterman jokes she becomes, her Oscar winning portrayal is pure genius and can never be denied her.

As Cher - another fallen Oscar winner - recently said to her hecklers …”Fuck you, I’ve got an Oscar.”

Rent or buy Cabaret – it’s not only a visual treat, but also a slice of history that is educational, thought provoking and wildly entertaining.

GUNS GROW IN VIRGINIA

When is America going to wake-up and pass a tough gun control law? These mass killings are happening so frequently, I'm kinda numb to the whole thing - and that's not good.

I mean, how many people have to die?

And what does this say about Bush and his republican cronies who champion the right to carry a gun? It's no secret the gun lobby in Washington is one of the strongest lobbies in history - and that's criminal!

I ask these gun fanatics: Why do you feel the need to carry a gun?

Condi (Cunti) Rice champions the right to bear arms by claiming her grandfather saved his family from the Klan with his gun. Oh, please - what bullshit. If the Klan wanted to nail her grandpa, believe me, one black man with a gun would not have stopped them. But that's the argument these gun kooks use - guns will protect us. Well, every study in every country has found the opposite to be true - the more guns a society has, the more guns a society will use.

Wake up America.

THE BRECK GIRL

What is the big fucking deal if John Edwards wants to shell out $400 on a haircut? I mean, does anyone mention the price Hillary or Laura or Georgie or Condi pay for his or her cuts and colors?

I think not.

Trust me, the rich are just different – and that doesn’t make them bad – and $400 to the rich is like $40 to you or I.

THANK GOODNESS

Thank goodness, Minnesota has come to its senses and voted to penalize Muslim cabdrivers that refuse to transport airport passengers with guide dogs or passengers with unopened bottles of liquor.

Of course, the towelheads are up in arms and claiming religious discrimination.

I say: FUCK YOU.

If one takes a public service job such as a taxi driver, one must pick up the public. I mean, numerous passengers were dumped at the side of the road in questionable neighborhoods after the driver became aware that the passenger was transporting liquor.

America only needs to look across the pond to England to see what occurs when the Muslims are left unchecked.

I applaud my home state.

But it doesn't end there - read this amazing and informative article printed in the Minneapolis Star/Tribune, which is normally as liberal as liberal gets. The article details how Muslims have websites dedicated to bending entire colleges to their religious ways. Several colleges have already buckled under the pressure and are now catering to Muslims - Muslim holidays, head scarves for women, halal food at cafeterias, separate housing for Muslim women, separate times at the gym for Muslims - at the expense of other religions. Truly shocking. Read the article - copy and paste to your browser. http://www.startribune.com/191/story/1122449.html

DOUBLE STANDARDS PART II

I’m glad that Don Imus was fired – what he said about the hoop girls was despicable. I mean, he should have been fired just for sporting that awful hair style.

But one thing does bother me – I would hate for his firing to be seen as a feather in Al Sharpton’s hat.

I see Al Sharpton as not only a troublemaker, but also a hypocritical one at that.

Let’s not forget he has gone on record as calling the raped-and-left-for dead Central Park Jogger a “whore” because she said her attackers were black.

Let’s not forget that he has called Jews “diamond merchants” and gays ‘homos”.

Let’s not forget that Sharpton led a protest in Harlem concerning a rent dispute that led/encouraged a man to enter the building and kill himself and seven others.

Let’s not forget his involvement in the lies of the Tawana Brawley case in which he labeled several white officers guilty of the crime - only to discover little Miss Tawana made the whole thing up. He has NEVER apologized to any of these men.

I’m just calling them as I see them dawg.

DOUBLE STANDARDS

I was in Minneapolis this past week, and amidst the fat and fashion challenged folks, I discovered yet another disgusting element in the cornfield - the preferential treatment of Muslims.

Let me explain:

In the state of Minnesota, it is against the law to display religious themed holiday paraphernalia or to discuss or show any religious preference whatsoever. This past holiday season, numerous crosses, Christmas trees and menorahs were removed from public places - even a coffee selling pushcart was forced to stop broadcasting holiday themed music. In other words, no element of Judaism or Christianity is allowed to exist in public.

OK, that sounds cool to me - I don’t like to see religious things in public either.

But now I am shocked to learn that the University of Minnesota and other public institutions are giving prayer rooms to Muslims complete with foot washing stations.

I mean, what kind of bullshit is this? I guess it’s ok to worship Allah in public, but not Jesus.

But that isn’t the half of it.

Just weeks ago, Muslim cab drivers at the airport were refusing to transfer blind travelers with guide dogs or travelers with liquor, thus leaving many people stranded. Next, it was reported that some Muslim cashiers were refusing to scan or touch pork items. Apparently, dog spit, booze and pork are against the Muslim religion, but killing infidels is not.

I hate to pull an Ann Coulter here…but if you don’t like it here or can’t abide by our customs, get the fuck out.

I can’t imagine an American going to an Arab country, and after taking full advantage of the lucrative welfare system – free food stamps, free healthcare, free rent – start demanding special religious privileges in public environments.

I’m sorry, but this is just fucked up.

DOWNTOWN DOGS

I love dogs – I don’t love barking dogs.

Let me explain:

I live in a rear apartment in the East Village, which is normally very quiet. When I moved into the building over a decade ago, the neighborhood was home to a strong bohemian culture. However, since the Nazi-enforced Giuliani clean-up program, rich Connecticut cunts and Jersey jack-offs in True Religion jeans and Balanciaga handbags have moved in.

I mean, they walk around the neighborhood as if they own it.

Sadly, in reality, they do.

Over the past few years, these “bought-and-paid-for” fashionistas have bought up many of the smaller buildings and turned them into grand homes with suburban decks complete with hot tubs and bikini-clad girls.

One such uptown turned downtown dork spent months noisily constructing a three-season porch, which he uses for loud parties in the summer. OK, I can deal with that. Never mind that this noise travels upwards and affects hundreds of people in the hundreds of apartments surrounding his three-season porch.

Recently, this asshole purchased two large dogs that bark nonstop in his backyard. The surrounding neighbors have screamed from their windows etc…to no avail – and yes, while we are on the topic, the rich do think they are better.


After much thought and barking nights, I decided to take a page from a Seinfeld script.

I wrote a note to the asshole and explained that the barking dogs were disturbing – I then explained in great detail that I could easily throw a raw hamburger ball laced with rat poison into his backyard.

Yes, sometimes you have to be an asshole to fight an asshole.

PS – It’s been quiet ever since.

LIFE IN THE CORNFIELD

Dear bloggers, I am in Minneapolis for a few days. A new blog is coming tomorrow.

PETER PAN

Have you ever noticed that people in relationships tend to dress their age and discuss things like stocks, real estate and other grown up stuff, while us singletons - regardless of age – dress like pop stars and gab nonstop about the coolest clubs, the wackiest reality TV shows and our latest fucks?

I think shrinks call this the Peter Pan Syndrome – you know, never wanting to grow up.

The other night I was watching “Six Feet Under” and I was thinking I wanted a life just like David’s when I grew up - and then it dawned on me: I was already older than the character.

I mean, at what age do we give in and age gracefully and start living as grown ups? I don't have the answer, but I do draw the line at 35 year-old men wearing tattered Abercrombie baseball caps.

UGLY BETTY RULES

Of course, I love this show - what gay man wouldn't? I mean, Thursdays at Betty's are a homo holiday.

I love the honest portrayal of a 12-year old baby fag (Betty's nephew) who loves Broadway showtunes and Martha Stewart. I'm sure the bible bangers are cringing at the sight of a pre-teen fag on network television, but that makes "Betty" even more loveable.

I love Vanessa William's bitchy fashionista character Willamina - her politically incorrect one-liners are as horrible as they are fabulous. Her remark to an Arabic cabdriver had me in tears...."Why are you driving so slow...was your last vehicle a goat?"

I love that Rebecca Romijn plays a tranny. Of course, it's totally unbelievable, but who cares.

I love that someone has finally found a role worthy of Judith Light. I mean, I've loved her since she played Karen Wolek - prostitute by day and doctor's wife by night - on "One Life to Live". If memory serves me correct, she even won a daytime emmy for that role. On "Betty" she plays the queen bee who loves her tranny son as much as she loves her vodka. Come to think of it, didn't she have a fag son on "Who's the Boss", too?

Finally, I love Betty. Her character is the heart of the show; and her style is dead-on over-the-bridge Queens, New York - and there is nothing wrong with that - that is, unless you're in the biz called fashion.

Watch the show.

THE EGO HAS LANDED

I tuned into Lifetime Television – the channel for women and gay men – just in time to see the finale of that dreadful Diana Ross/Brandy TV movie Double Platinum. As I sat watching the credits, it reminded me of a fabulous story about the making of the movie and the ego that is La Ross.

My friend was hired to do Diana’s makeup for the film. On the first day, Diana instructed her to bring plenty of reading material, because “Miss Ross” – yes, she talks about herself in third person - always does her own makeup. Because of the film union, a makeup artist had to be hired, so my friend collected $2000 a week to lounge around reading magazines - and observing the diva’s behavior.

Of course, my friend had numerous la Ross stories, but the best is as follows:

In one of the final scenes, Diana performs a concert with a full band and backup singers. Days went into the setup of the scene, and as can be expected, the singers and band were excited to be filmed with Miss Ross.

After a few takes, Diana asked to see the playback.

“Could we pull in a little bit,” she meowed. “You know, see more of me.”

The next take it was just Miss Ross and the backup singers. Diana cocked her head to see the monitor….”This isn’t working. Could we pull in a little more?”

To make a long story short, in the final take that Diana approved, it was just La Ross in tight close-up – the band and backup singers were sent home.

Yes, the stories about Miss Ross are true.

DESPERATE

Has anyone else stopped watching Desperate Housewives and other network shows due to the long breaks between new episodes?

I know I have.

I'm sick of getting caught up in a network show and then being forced to wait 3 to 4 weeks for a new episode. I mean, one would think with the huge competition from cable channels, networks would do everything in their power to hold onto their continually shrinking audience. FX, HBO, Bravo and Fox have new shows without fail week after week. Why? Because cable channels are smart enough to film an entire season and have it in the can before they start airing it.

Well, I'm done with network television and I'm sure I'm not alone in my frustration.

You would think the suits at the networks would figure this out.

CRIMINAL

President Bush and his criminal cronies are at it again. I’m not even going to go bitch about the war today. No, what is criminal is how Bush is attempting to thwart the judicial system.

I mean, by not allowing Karl Rove to testify about his activities under oath is shocking as well as unconstitutional. Eventually, everything comes out in the wash, so when the shit hits the fan, there will be no penalty for Rove because he was not under oath. In other words, Rove and his buddies can lie all they want and never get into any trouble.

Convenient, huh?

And to think they wanted to impeach Clinton for a blowjob? Go figure.

PATTI ROCKS

I forgot how cool Patti Smith was.

Patti was inducted into The Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame this past weekend along with The Ronettes and REM. Such lame winners like Str8 boy arena band Van Halen dampened the awards, but that’s beside the point.

I got to know Patti briefly about 10 years ago. She was a good friend of beat poet Allen Ginsburg, who lived in my building. Because of my non-traditional work schedule, I would often see her huffing and puffing up the stairs to Allen’s apartment.

She said she admired my style – that I wasn’t trying to look like the typical faggot. I took that as a compliment; and I never took her use of the term “faggot” as in insult, but rather as a bonding gesture from one freak to another.

When Patti accepted her award, she was soft spoken and humble - very much like the girl I knew from my hallway. But when she took the stage and growled out her classic “Rock and Roll Nigger”, I, as well as the rest of the world, was reminded how amazing Patti is. And before anyone gets his or her panties in a bunch, Patti’s use of the N word has nothing to do with racism – she’s commenting on anyone living on the outskirts of society.

For newbie’s to Patti, check out her classic albums Easter and Horses.

JEEPERS PEEPERS

I was thinking about getting Lasik eye surgery, but I think I’ve changed my mind.

Let me explain:

I ran into a good friend who recently had the procedure and he was none too happy.

With his new x-ray vision, he noticed all the lines and cracks on his face.

“When I first looked in the mirror, I thought it was my grandfather,” he moaned. “And there is no going back – I’m going to see everything from now on weather I like it or not.”

He then spewed his venom in my direction.…”MM, I always thought you looked a perpetual 22, but now with my new peepers, I can see that’s hardly the truth.”

Ouch.

Yes, I’m gonna pass on the Lasik and stick to my rose-colored lenses, because sometimes the world is a better place a little fuzzy and out-of-focus.

IMMORAL BEHAVIOR

OK, we all know General Peter Pace is an asshole, so I'm not even going to comment on his stupid remarks labeling all gays immoral.

What I did find interesting - as well as frightening - is that the army is severely lacking in people that speak Arabic - yet over 50 military personnel specializing in the Arabic language have been discharged for the crime of being gay.

I mean, regardless of your personal beliefs, in a time of war doesn't that sound stupid.

Mr. Pace, that is immoral.

THAT GIRL!

As I was ordering my soy latte today at Starbucks, I heard someone refer to Ann Coulter as a cunt.

I laughed out load.

Is that terrible? I don’t think so. I mean, I thought she was despicable when she made that horrible remark about the 911 widows…”I’ve never seen a group enjoy their husband’s death more.” Now she’s gone and called John Edwards a faggot.

But you know what really bugs me? I don’t think she means one word of her hatred. I think she’s a media whore who will say or do anything to get attention.

I think her time in the spotlight is about up….next stop for Ann: “Dancing with the Stars”.

SEPARATED AT BIRTH

Does anyone else think that Dick Cheney is like Tony Soprano minus the charm?

TATTOO YOU

You know what I don’t get? Gay men with tattoos. Correction: queeny gay men with tattoos. I mean, do these sissified fags really think that by putting a barbed wire or military symbol on their arm is going to make them appear masculine?

Hell no.

Once the mouth opens and a Gucci purse falls out…well, you get the picture. Grow up girls and just accept the fact that you’re big Liza loving homos and be done with it.

Another thing….I just can’t imagine all these tattoos in 20 years on saggy and wrinkly arms. Yuk.

THE GENES

How could such an ugly mother give birth to such a beautiful daughter?

CHEAT SHEET

My best friend caught her husband cheating.

She arrived home a tad too early from work and found him canoodling with the UPS delivery lady. Yes, the UPS delivery lady. I am not making this up. She screamed and ran out the front door and down the block. When she stopped, she was saddened to discover herself alone on the street. She didn’t know what hurt more, the cheating or the fact that he didn’t chase after her.

That night, she rang me up for some hag to fag counseling; and she reminded me that I once caught my boyfriend cheating.

It was yet another one of those sleazy nights at the Cock bar. I had a friend in town, so I sent my boyfriend out on his own – big mistake. Sensitive Pisces that he was, he felt abandoned and went looking for love in the backroom of the Cock. He had no idea that I would make an appearance at 4 am liquored up on vodka/cokes. As the ugly closing lights came on, I caught him coming out of the backroom with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. Ever the drama queen, I screamed bloody murder and ran from the bar in tears. He chased me across Avenue A begging for forgiveness and pleading that he was only “looking.” Yeah, we all “look” with our shirts open and our pants undone.

Whatever.

I knew that the Cock bar made good boys bad, so I forgave him. I mean, after all, he did have the decency to chase me down the street.

AND THE WINNER IS....

I’ve been wondering lately if the rumors are true: Al Gore is about to toss his hat into the presidential ring.

You know, I think the former vice-president has a good chance to take the prize. I mean, he did win the popular vote in 2000, and more importantly, he has an Oscar.

Does anyone really think Hillary has a chance? Hell, no. I mean, an ice cube in hell has a better chance of survival. It’s not that she is a woman, but a Clinton. I don’t know what it is, but so many people hate her. I mean, really hate her.

Barack Obama? I think he has an amazing future, but 2008 is just not his year. Not yet, but soon.

In my opinion, the winning ticket is Gore/Obama. Let’s see if I’m right.

MEMIOR MEMORIES

Does anyone remember Rupert Everett?

He had an A-list moment about 10 years back when he played fag to Julia Robert’s hag in “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” He committed career suicide a year later when he appeared with Madonna in the disastrous “The Next Best Thing”, which is arguably the worst film of all time. I mean, the movie is even worse than Madge’s beach epic “Swept Away” – and that’s bad!

Well, now that the big parts have evaporated, Mr. Everett has written a saucy little memoir about his 15 minutes of fame. Titled “Red Carpets And Other Banana Skins”, Mr. Everett’s prose, although not exactly Proust, is witty. His tales of life on the A-list with J-lo, Gwyneth, Donatella, and Miss Madge are quite insightful as well as interesting. But he left one person out: Me.

I met Rupert a few years back. Well, I wouldn’t exactly say met, but we kinda rubbed… shoulders. Yeah, shoulders.

Let me explain:

It was one of those mischievous nights at Manhattan’s sleaziest gay bar the Cock. After one too many black bitches (that’s a vodka/coke - the drink of choice for me and Debbie Harry) I wandered into the “anything goes with anyone” backroom. I saw Mr. Everett standing in a dark corner. I mean, at 6’4” with a head of thick black hair, he wasn’t exactly hard to miss. Star fuck that I am, I batted my Max Factored lashes his way and soon we were groping and kissing like two wild schoolgirls After several minutes, he backed away and dropped to his knees in front of a thuggish looking black man. I took a swig of my cocktail and watched his lips imitate a Hoover vacuum.

Ok, maybe he left me out of the book for good reason, but it’s still one of those amazing moments that can only happen in Manhattan.

PUNCHED OUT

I hate when you call the phone company, the cable company or the credit card company and they make you punch in all those damn account numbers, names and blood types only to be asked the exact same questions when an operator finally picks up.

I ask you: What's the point of punching all those numbers?

FIRED UP

I'm on my soapbox tonight.

In our culture, gays are the only minority group that can be publicly demonized and hated without consequence. If you doubt me, tune into any Christian television station or radio program to witness a preacher spewing out anti-gay venom, thus encouraging anti-gay violence as well as self-hatred among gay youth . Further up the ladder, the president of the United States is attempting to write discrimination into the constitution. And in everyday life, the gay slurs and jokes that take place in workplaces, locker rooms and street corners – not to mention hate crimes and gay bashing – are too many to mention.

So excuse me, if I get upset when a moron like Tim Hardaway pisses me off and threatens my existence.

Yes, I’m not taking it anymore. No apologies. And I’m not ready to make nice.

FAIR GAME

You know what pissed me off this weekend? Former NBA star Tim Hardaway's moronic comments about gay players….”I don’t like being around homosexuals” and “I hate gay people.”

Well, as a gay man, I don’t like being around dumb n____rs.

I wonder what would happen if I made such a statement in a public forum such as a televison or radio program? I'm sure I would receive a much harsher reprimand than Tim Hardaway's slap on the wrists.

SINEAD SPEARS

This has to be the final nail in Britney's career coffin.

MEAN QUEEN

You know, I think it's true what people say about me - I am mean.

Since it's been so cold and snowy in Manhattan, I've been forced to ride the subway. And you know what makes me smile?
Watching the subway doors close as people run frantically down the stairs to catch the train. I laugh outloud as the train pulls out and they are left on the platform.

Yes, I'm mean.

A HEART SHAPED WORLD

Is it just me, or am I the only one who despises Valentine’s Day?

February 14th is without a doubt the co-dependant holiday of the year. I mean, if you don’t have a Valentine’s Day date, you are made to feel like a big loser. Even when I had a valentine, there was so much stress to have a “romantic evening” it always turned out to be a bust.

This year I’m buying myself a big box of Whitman Samplers and taking my single self to the movies - and holding my head high amongst the heart shaped couples.

LAST SUPPER

The New York Post ran a picture of the contents of Anna Nicole Smith's hotel refrigerator. I mean, you have to love a woman who survived on SlimFast shakes and Methadone.

IN THE LAND OF DIXIE

I thought it was fabulous that the Dixie Chicks swept every major award at the Grammy's last night.

It was sweet vindication after the chicks' lives were threatened and sales plummeted when Maines criticized President Bush on the eve of the Iraq war in 2003. Almost overnight, one of the most successful groups of any genre was boycotted by Nashville and disappeared from country radio.

I particularly loved it when the Chicks took Country Artist of the year. I mean, watching Reba's redneck expression when they won was priceless.

AN EARLY FROST

As cynical and bitter as I am, my heart goes out to Anna Nicole Smith. I mean, she was an easy target with all her crazy shenanigans, but I’m aiming my arrows elsewhere. In our land of politically correctness, I admire someone who wore her bleached blonde ambition on her sleeve for the entire world to see.

I also can’t imagine the horror of giving birth to one child and then losing another all within days. She didn’t have an easy ride, but at least she will forever be remembered as young and blonde.

DIRTY BUSINESS

I'm in love with Courtney Cox’s new FX series Dirt. I mean, this has to be the filthiest show on television.

The plot so far involves a football player who takes it up the ass via a strap-on adorned girl, a rapper who keeps the head of a murdered rival in a jar, and Miss Cox herself searching for an orgasm each week with her trusty vibrator. Oh, and Melrose Place's Grant Show plays an A-list (now that's humorous in itself) closeted action hero who calls his various male sex partners bitches. And finally, rumor has it that Friend’s alumni Jennifer Aniston will appear in the season finale as a lesbian rival editor who gives Miss Cox some tongue.

I swear, I’m not making this up.

I keep asking myself why zillionaire Miss Cox would do this. I mean, it’s not like it’s a Martin Scorsese film. Whatever the reason, it’s my new guilty pleasure.

THE SKINNY

It’s fashion week in NYC, and amongst the glamour and glitz, the fashionistas are up in arms about the negative press surrounding super skinny models. Of course, no one will come right out and endorse anorexia, but prada dressed and obsessed editors know full well that fashion would not be fashion without bone thin teenaged girls tottering down the runway.

Fashion has always been an artful illusion made possible with lights and circus mirrors, so what’s wrong with a little skin and bones? I mean, I like to think of the models as starving artists.

Of course, in a grand gesture, the fashion police have placed tables of healthy food backstage, but who’s kidding whom? If your job is to be a size 0, you’re not going to touch the nosh no matter how good it is. The New York Post has reported that while some models are eating, the janitors are smelling mucho vomit in the bathrooms. I say, bravo girls.

As I sat in my chair applauding the designers, who by the way are showing oodles of short skirts, I also put my hands together for the starving artists who bring the clothes to life.

BRITNEY?

I ran across this picture of Miss Britney....is it just me, or does she look like a hagged-out 40 year-old woman?

REALITY CHECK

You know what really bugs me? Snobby people who claim they never watch reality television. I mean, I want to scream when I hear these elitist assholes brag with bravado....Oh, I read books or spend time with my family or watch historical documentaries on PBS and blah, blah, blah.

I just want to shout...fuck you!

Give me some VH1 Celebreality any night of week. I mean, who could live without "I Love New York" or "Fit Club" or even "The Surreal Life" ?

Oh, and have you noticed that these television avoiding snobs always look they should be on Extreme Makeover?

A QUESTION

Today on CNN was a moving report about the new Intrepid Center in Texas. The ground breaking facility was built for Iraqi veterans who were mangled in the war.

The cost: $50 million.

Who paid for it: Private donations.

I ask you: Why is it OK for Bush and his cronies - all war deserters - to send young men and women off to battle and then refuse to pay for their mental or physical injuries?

BABYCAKES

OK, I admit it... I'm a borderline anorexic. I kneel daily at the alter/scale of my patron saint Karen Carpenter, and yes, I truely believe Miss Rainy Days and Mondays died a martyr for her cause. Can I get an amen?

That said, I've never met a baked good I didn't like. My latest discovery is Babycakes - a tiny vegan bakery located on the cusp of Chinatown and the Lower East Side. I was a tad skeptical at first: I mean, how can you churn out edible confections sans sugar, butter or flour? Well, I'm here to tell you the cupcakes, cookies and brownies are just plain delicious - and no sickly sugar overkill.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not turning my back on my favorites such as Veniero's, Billy's Bakery or the Cupcake Cafe, but when I'm in the mood for a sweet treat that doesn't curse me to 90 minutes on the treadmill or double my dose of Lipitor, Babycakes is my choice.

COLD?

In Manhattan yesterday, talking heads warned viewers about the artic 25 degree weather. I mean, they even did a report on frost bite and how to prevent it.

Oh, please.

I grew up in Minnesota where 25 degrees would bring out the tank tops and shorts.

A+

I have to give Dubya an A+ for effort last night. I mean, he spoke so eloquently about patriotism, bravery and heroism that it made me teary eyed. His noble introduction of Nancy Pelosi was admirable. His ideas on health care, alternative fuels and other domestic issues were well thought out and quite interesting. Granted, the rest of his speech was grandstanding and gesturing, and his take on Iraq was ludicrous, but all and all, it made me proud to be an American. And yes, I still hate Dubya.

CLOSET CASE

There is one closet I would cheerfully never leave.

Let me explain.

Saturday night I had dinner at my buddy’s fancy smancy Park Avenue apartment. There is a gigantic plasma television, walls covered with the best modern art, and windows draped in $10,000 of Italian silk. I mean, this apartment is a queen’s dream, but what really floats my boat is a small closet off the lavender dining room.

I always open the mahogany door as if it were Christmas morning; and I never fail to swoon when I gaze upon its contents. Yes, sitting inside are the two things a gay boy desires most -– booze and toiletries.

I mean, I’ve never seen such a beautiful closet.

THE NOSE KNOWS

On the L train tonight, I noticed a sleek young woman with a $2000 Marc Jacobs bag, a $700 pair of leopard Jimmy Choos and a head of $1500 butter blonde extensions by Brad John. Obviously, this woman was a slave to vanity, so I was stunned to look up and discover she was cursed with a huge potato nose. I mean, this was a nose only a blind mother could love.

As I exited the train and headed for home, one thought ran through my mind... with all that money, why not fix the nose?

SISTER SISTER

Oh my, do these two look like freaks. I've said it before, but now it's official - poor ugly Ashlee has now transformed herself into her sister - albeit with a bigger and trannier chin. And is it just me, or do these two look like a couple of chicks with dicks.

TRUE LOVE

After a recent conversation with a group of friends, I was shocked and saddened to learn how few of them have ever been in love. You know, a person who makes you feel like you’re tripping over the rainbow; a person who gives you goose bumps when you know he or she is coming over. I'm talking real love, baby.

I think I’ve been in love three times.

The first man that made my heart jump was named Chris. We met at his father’s pizza joint where we both worked as waiters. He had blonde curly hair; a gymnast’s body and a sly smirk that made me forgive him anything. He sang in a punk band and I was his number one front row groupie at every dive he played. He drove a beat-up MG and sang me songs late into the night. He left me for a girl with huge boobs and platinum hair. I cried for three weeks. Years later, I ran into him and we didn’t even recognize each other.

Years went by before my next love. His name was Pete and he had a missing tooth and drove a taxi. We met on a phone sex line and his deep voice had me at hello. I used to sneak him into my parent’s basement after they had gone to sleep. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but it was the best sex I ever had. He left me for an underage Eskimo. He still lives in the same apartment and I have no idea what he is doing.

The third I will write about later.

FLO KNOWS

It was great seeing Jennifer Hudson win a Golden Globe for her stunning performance in "Dreamgirls". I mean, the movie wouldn’t be a hit without her. I also loved that she thanked Flo Ballard whom her character Effie White is based.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t always imitate art. Unlike Effie White, who had a triumphant return at the end of the movie, Flo Ballard died penniless in the Detroit projects at age 32. Like Effie, Flo started the Supremes; but she was replaced as lead singer by Diana Ross and later kicked out of the group entirely because of her sass and large ass. Berry Gordy and Miss Ross did everything in their power to ruin Flo’s solo career. And in the end, Miss Ross became a huge star and Flo lost her house, her fortune, her health, and finally, her life.

Check out Mary Wilson’s fabulous book, “Dreamgirl – My life as a Supreme” for the real story of the Supremes,

PROBLEMS

I was dating a beautiful boy from India. I really liked him, and he had the most kissable lips, but something wasn’t quite right. Now I know I sound superficial, but he had a…well, a funny penis. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get used to it.

What was wrong with it?

It was too small, too dark and too uncut. Is that simple enough? Now some uncut knobs can be quite cute, but this one was barely the size of my thumb and had a wrinkly tip like a corkscrew. I mean, this thing was so wrinkly I could store my ipod in it.

What was I to do?

My friend from Milwaukee was dating a man with a not too pretty penis; and she tried and tried to like it, but the relationship ended up a bonafide disaster.

That’s right; never underestimate the power of the penis. So no matter what, if you don’t like the penis, the relationship is never going to work.

SHE AIN'T HEAVY, SHE'S MY SISTER

I hopped on the scale today and I was up two pounds.

Yikes!

The reason?

I had a friend in town this past weekend and we ate like pigs - pizza, nachos, cheesecake - nothing was off limits. My friend is a "vegan", and yes, the type of "vegan" who sports plastic boots, so our first stop was a trendy "raw" restaurant; and I have to admit the food was pretty tasty. I mean, who knew nachos could be served raw.

Next stop was a southern style restaurant. As my "vegan" friend scanned the meat and cheese heavy menu, she casually winked that perhaps she could relax her "vegan" ways "just for this weekend."

Well, before I could say meatloaf, she had ordered the BBQ ribs and was busy chewing the meat off the bone. I guess she left her PETA card at home, because from then on it was nothing but eggs, cheese, dairy and more meat. Oh, and a late night visit to Veniero's for cheesecake, canolis and eclairs.

So for the next few days it's going to be broccoli and carrots for me.

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS

You know, I think a little anorexia is a good thing. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating a full-on Nicole Richie, but just an occasional calorie cutback. I mean, the holiday parties were stocked with cookies, eggnogs and cheeses. I ask you: With such caloric catastrophes thrust upon us, how are we supposed to maintain our Manhattan thinness?

Now please don’t get this confused with Bulimia – that my dear is disgusting. Not only does it leave you with horrendous breath, but totally smears a well-constructed lip line.

Say you’re invited to a big bash loaded with goodies. Well, do what I do….have a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast and not a morsel more until the party. If you get hungry, have a large plain Starbucks with soymilk. Afterwards, if those Prada trousers are a tad too tight, eat nothing but broccoli and carrots for a few days. And NO cigarettes - I don’t know what’s more disgusting – being fat or smoking cigarettes.

To maintain your figure, nothing works better than weighing yourself four times a day. I personally jump on the scale first thing in the morning. If I’m a pound or two down, I scream for joy because I know it’s going to be a nachos day; if I’m a pound or two up, I grimace and starve. Trust me, if you don’t watch it, those five extra pounds multiple into ten and ten to twenty and so on and so on until you’re shopping at Lane Bryant for a neon blue bullet-proof polyester smock top. Not pretty.

TOWELHEAD NATION

The uppity towelheads are at it again.

As I was leaving to return to NYC, I read in the newspaper that Minneapolis Muslim cab drivers are refusing to pick-up anyone carrying liquer or anyone with a service dog - that means a blind person with a life-saving dog. So far this idiocy has left over 100 people stranded at the airport. I mean, this is crazy. Muslim spokespeople claim liquer and dog saliva are against their religion. Bullshit, if these towelheads want to live in America, they have to bend to our way of thinking or get the FUCK out of the cab business.

DAY OFF?

I really hate George Bush.

I've always despised him because of the war, the lies and hypocritical Christian right bullshit , but what really pisses me off is his giving government workers the day off yesterday. I mean, I went to the post office today and the lines were out the door and I had to wait 45 minutes.

Please, why do government workers get a holiday for some dead lame president when the rest of us continue working?

Furthermore, it sets things back for weeks. The counter clerk at my post office told me it would take days to catch up. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

And what really pissed me off is just when it was almost my turn, some obese old guy with a cane came hobbling in with bags and bags of packages. Of course, the "Minnesota Nice" woman in front of me ushered him to the front of the line. Well, the old fuck didn't fill out any slips etc...and we all had to wait there for an additional 20 minutes while he gabbed and chatted and filled out his forms. He kept complaining that his hip hurt. I came so close to screaming..."If you lost 50 pounds your hip probably wouldn't hurt and you could throw away the cane."

Yes, I hate fat people and George Bush.

How was your day?

MINNE-NOPLACE.

I have finally figured out what the problem is with Minneapolis. The city has all the major headaches of a big city - extreme crime, huge traffic jams etc...- but none of the benefits. No style, No culture, No restaurants - NOTHING.

CHILD SOUP - HOLD THE SALT

I think the witch in Hansel and Gretel had the right idea.

I truly believe children - and especially screaming babies - do not belong in civil society. Breeders today think nothing of changing shitty diapers in public or hauling out their saggy ugly breasts to nurse. I’m sorry, but I don’t need to look at those things.

I think children should be taken to the Midwest and not allowed into malls, airports, movies or other public places until they are 16. You know, maybe put them in Kansas – I mean, who lives there anyways? Give them a good education and firm discipline – think of it like a 16-year boarding school.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS

I worked on an editorial a few weeks back and I think this image turned out fabulous. Enjoy the holidays.

YOU GO GIRL - PART 2

Poor old hair challenged Donald Trump.

Today he’s all over the news attacking Rosie O’Donnell because of her views about him on The View. I mean, Mr. Trump is such a cad. After Rosie's many valid points, the Donald could only come up with rebuttals such as…”She’s ugly" or "She’s an evil slob" or "Rosie’s fat and unattractive.”

Grow up, Donald; if anyone’s evil, it’s you. Rosie has donated and raised millions of dollars for charities – what have you done? Oh, yeah, publicly cheated on both of your wives and bankrupted yourself many times over …somehow I agree with Rosie that you should not be the “moral compass” for Miss USA.

To see all the action, copy this URL to your browser to see the entire recap.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=bZui6qeN1ZQ

YOU GO GIRL

I love me some Rosie O’Donnell. With her “every woman” candid charm, she has put The View back on top. I mean, she says exactly what the majority of us are thinking. I mean, on today’s show she ranted about Donald Trump and the stupidity of the Miss USA pageant.

But what I like best about Rosie is that she isn’t beating anyone over the head with her sexuality. Yeah, she mentions it, but always in a subtle way, thus, showing the world that gay folks are pretty much the same as str8 folks.

Bravo Rosie.

WISH LIST

The holidays are almost upon us; and with so much sorrow in the world - not to mention the comments on my blog - I thought I would gift my faithful readers with my THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY list.

1) Nicole Richie. I just love her – and I don’t think she is too thin.

2) Whole-wheat donuts from the Cupcake Café in Manhattan. Forget Sex and the City’s tired Magnolia, this is the cupcake emporium that started it all. And, honey, these things are good – and good for you!

3) Liposuction. If you have a few extra pesky pounds that won’t respond to exercise, get some lipo. I swear, it’s the best procedure – besides botox – in the world.

4) New underwear, socks and t-shirts. I replace the whole lot every few months. I mean, it just feels divine putting fresh undergarments on.

5) Lip liner. How did we ever live without it? Girls, boys, trannies, it just does a mouth good.

6) Hot men at the gym. OK, most are unattainable or straight, but I can look, fantasize and drool, right?

7) Nachos from Round the Clock. I know my friend Terri says the place is full of college brats, but the nachos are homemade and loaded with good cheese and guacamole.

8) Andy Warhol. Yes, he’s dead, but they have a ton of cute Warholesque items at Urban Outfitters. Sadly, I think Factory Girl is gonna be a big bomb.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Well, it’s Christmas, so it’s the perfect time for my semi-annual THINGS I HATE list.

1) You know what really bugs me? Fat people eating junk food – chips, cookies, candy bars etc...I mean, don’t they have mirrors? It’s disgusting.

2) Fat people waiting for elevators when the stairs are in plain view. Honey, there is a reason you are fat – get off your ass and start moving. And while I’m on the subject, I despise people that ride the elevator for just one floor.

3) People who answer the cell phone no matter what. I mean, I’ve seen folks scrambling, sweating and panicking to find that ringing idiot box? God forbid you should lose a call. One would think it was the president or the pope calling. After all the whoopla, it’s usually…“Yes, honey, I will bring home a gallon of milk.”

4) People who walk slow. I’m not talking about old folks; I’m talking about young people – usually fat – taking their damn sweet time. Hate it.

5) Coach purses. Every gal in the Midwest seems to think that carrying a Coach purse is the ticket to class. Sorry, but in Manhattan anyone who's anyone knows only secretaries and suburban moms carry Coach bags. You want class? Try a Marc Jacobs bag.

6) Bad blonde highlights. If you can’t afford a trip to the salon, leave your hair alone. I mean, nothing is worse than seeing orange stripes or chunks of yellow on dark hair. Low rent, honey, very low rent. Furthermore, why do all the women in the Midwest sport lesbian-style short haircuts? No wonder every married man I know is cheating on his wife.

7) Talking in movies. With the price of a movie ticket hovering around $10, nothing makes me madder than talking in the cinema. I support carrying firearms on this matter.

8) Starbucks. Why are there always 40 people in line and four cash registers BUT only one person taking orders? Piss poor management.

9) Kohl’s Department Stores. I swear, I have never in my life been in a tackier department store.

10) Big SUV’s. With gas prices so high, why oh why do city folk need these gas-guzzlers? And have you noticed it’s always ugly men driving them? I bet these men suffer from small dick syndrome.

SHOPPING

Well, I am in Minneapolis for a few days and I'm planning a trip to the Mall of America. Let's hope I can find an article of clothing in small or medium in the land of jumbo and extra jumbo.

MEMORIES

The other day, over grapefruit martinis, my friends and I were swapping stories about attending catholic schools. As can be expected, the stories were filled with molestation. Although the priest at my parish was boy crazy, I was not molested; I guess that was the start of my insecurity.

I do have fond memories of Sister Mary Guisey: A butch lesbian with a crew cut and a fire hydrant figure. In retrospect, I'm amazed that the Catholic Church would allow such a blatantly gay woman in the classroom...…well, on second thought, maybe it's not that odd.

Sister Guisey was hired to teach math, but she would spend hours entertaining the class with stories of fending off switchblade wielding students at her former grade school in St. Paul. I loved her tales of pre-teen gang warfare, but now that I look back, this was the cornfield, not the south side of Chicago, and her stories were pure fiction. She was fired for putting Jim Charbeneux - the class clown - in a half nelson when he pulled a piece of Juicy Fruit from his pocket. Sister Guisey swore he was reaching for a switchblade.

Later, I heard Sister Guisey left the nunnery and was tending bar at a local gay bar.

PROGRESS?

I recently worked on a Sear’s Television commercial for the gay network LOGO. The location was the home of two super successful men in gay friendly Asbury Park. In the holiday themed commercial, the happy couple is shown entertaining a group of friends that included a pair of lipstick lesbians and a gay dad accessorized with a foreign baby.

Although I say “Bravo” to Sears for realizing that gay people in 2006 are just as boring as straight people, I do wonder if all this homo homogenization is a good thing.

I mean, I’m old enough to remember when the only gay people I knew were florists, actors, hairdressers and other assorted fabulous freaks that were loud and proud long before rainbow flags became the norm in corporate America. I remember when gay bars were elite underground establishments with secret side doors that housed the most interesting people on the planet. Sadly, it seems this fabulous and bright gay gene pool has now been watered down with gay lawyers, doctors and accountants.

Yes, I’m smart enough to realize that a Sear’s LOGO commercial is good for the progress of the gay community, but I ask you: Is progress always a good thing?

IS THAT YOU ALLY?

Last night after Desperate Housewives, which thankfully has it's mojo back after a disastrous second season, I watched ABC's new drama, Brothers and Sisters. I thought the show was just so-so, but it has potential. I mean, with a cast including Sally Field and Rachel Griffiths, how bad can it be, right?

Anyways, half way through the show, Calista Flockhart appeared on the screen. Although horribly miscast as an Ann Coulter-ish republican television personality, the real problem with Miss Mcbeal is her face. Pulled, stretched, frozen with Botox and filled to capacity with filler, she resembled a startled chipmunk. I mean, odd is the perfect word to describe her appearance.

Now I'm well aware that Hollyweird is constructed of smoke and mirrors; and celebrities have an army of "yes" people telling them they look amazing, but don't they themselves own mirrors?