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.