*THIS POST IS BEING MADE BY GUEST-BLOGGER, FRANK ANTHONY POLITO
I don't remember why, exactly, Kenneth has flown off to LA-LA-land... But he's asked me to share these pics with you:

*THIS POST IS BEING MADE BY GUEST-BLOGGER, FRANK ANTHONY POLITO

*THIS POST IS BEING MADE BY GUEST-BLOGGER, FRANK ANTHONY POLITO
Check out Shortbus hottie Jay Brannan's new video over on NewNowNext.

It also appears that former Warrior Princess Lucy Lawless is set to star in a new series: Spartacus: Blood and Sand, from Sam Raimi and Rob Tapert (who were behind Xena).

*THIS POST IS BEING MADE BY GUEST-BLOGGER, FRANK ANTHONY POLITO
To be honest, I wouldn't even know about the Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards if it weren't for my recent obsession with discovery of Degrassi: The Next Generation on The N, where the KCA's have been touted for the past few weeks.
Click here for a list of winners... While I'm not a viewer of her TV show, i carly, I've recently been turned on to Miranda Cosgrove's "About You Now," by my housemate, Dan, who tells me is a cover of the BRIT-award nominated/Cathy Dennis penned single by the Sugababes. (Where was I in 2007?)
A sweet reader from France sent me this rather interesting video of athlete slash Dior model Romain Mesnil, who apparently ran out of money because he lost all of his sponsorship. That sucks for him. But lucky for us it seems he can no longer afford clothes, as you'll see above. Ooh la la!
Did you catch poor Oprah on Wednesday when the topic was "Living Without Labels," women leaving their husbands and boyfriends for other women? First "Work Out" star Jackie Warner came on to talk about all the straight women she attracts. (Her boy-crazy former fling Rebecca joined her, going on and on about how taken she was with her boss woman but never mentioning how she did it all for more screen time!)
Then Oprah got down to business, cross-examining all of these formerly straight women about how on earth they ended up becoming involved with woman. (BTW: Did anyone EVER think Carol Leifer was straight?) Now god knows Oprah doesn't have anything against the gays (truthfully, the ghost of Gayle King loomed large in the studio that afternoon making some of Oprah's questions sound almost tongue-in-cheek!). Yet, I couldn't help notice the intrinsic double standard that still permeates the airwaves when talking about gay men versus gay women. While "girl on girl" action is frequently fetishcized and encouraged in pop culture ("Girls Gone Wild" makeout sessions, anyone), gay men are still often painted only as the over-the-top queens that some of us are.
One of Oprah's guests was Dr. Lisa Diamond, a well-spoken women's sexuality expert who was there to promote her new book, "Sexual Fluidity: Understanding Women's Love and Desire." Sure, an Oprah plug is a writer's dream come true. But I couldn't help but cringe for her as Oprah made one juvenile comment about gay guys after the next -- at which Diamond laughed nervously at first, but eventually kind of ignored her -- not to mention repeatedly breaking into singing the title of an article about the subject in the new issue of O called "She's So Fine." (Like me, Diamond seemed to have NO IDEA WHY Oprah was doing this, although a quick Web search seems to reveal there's an Akon song with that title, so perhaps that's what O was getting at?) Some people insist that Oprah deliberately asks "naive" questions because she is trying to dumb her topics down for her Middle America audience, who may not be as worldly as she is.
Still, I think it spoke volumes about the gap that exists between the level of respect gay men and women are given by many that when the subject of men who rate themselves as a 6 on the Kinsey scale (6 being "exclusively homosexual") was broached, O felt comfortable saying: "The full-blow sixes, we can all tell. Love 'em. Really fun to be around. And they do great hair and stuff. It's harder to tell with a lot of women." (I had to rewind my DVR because I couldn't believe she'd just say that on national television!) Sure, she said it to get a laugh. Yet she bent over backward not to offend the lesbians by checking with Diamond during a commercial break before coming back to carefully and rather sheepishly ask why so many "attractive" women seem to leave men for women "who really, kinda don't look like women."
It's the little things, O. Think about it.
Be sure to check out the latest installment of "In the Moment," the L.A. Gay and Lesbian Center's online soap. In the fourth episode, one of the characters confronts the fact that he might have been infected with HIV by his philandering partner. (As is common, the couple had stopped using condoms -— so when one of them cheated, it opened a Pandora’s box of issues.) While the idea that a guy would cheat on his boyfriend is borderline preposterous, a cameo appearance by "Noah’s Arc" hunk Darryl Stephens will make you glad you tuned in.
Learn more about the groundbreaking series HERE.
Yesterday sure was an emotional roller coaster. Out of nowhere, my real estate agent -- who had gone MIA after presenting me with nothing but overpriced crap a couple weeks ago -- suddenly took me to see a half-dozen apartments, all of which I would seriously entertain calling home.
As this was going on, news leaked out about mass layoffs at work, with pay cuts and other negotiations in the works. While I was immeasurably thankful to still be employed at the end of the day, it was difficult learning several colleagues wouldn't be coming back, some of whom I count as friends. It was a stark reminder (like any of us needed it) of just how bad the economy is right now and how tenuous things really are. (All but one member of my family has now either been laid off, had full days cut, or has been asked to take leave without pay.) While all of this was unfolding, a friend of mine at work -- who'd been off for a few days -- confided in me that he'd suddenly gotten married on Sunday. I was so happy for him and then so sad that he felt like he should keep it under wraps because it wasn't the right time to share "good" news on a day filled with so much tumult. (People getting married should ALWAYS be allowed to be happy about it, shouldn't they?)
No sooner had I begun to pull myself together to resume the apartment hunt it dawned on me that I might actually need to make a decision on one of these places -- and fast. I'm heading West for a week on Sunday (another source of stress -- traveling), and today is Friday. Further complicating things, with the exception of the neighborhood and general price, each apartment is COMPLETELY different -- from street-level garden style to sleek high rise, and everything in between. (Do I want charm over function? Is a doorman important? Can you put an air conditioner in a window with security bars? Is the school too close? Is the place too close to the bar? Should I really be moving now at all???) I thought if I gave myself some time to clear my head and weigh the pros and cons, I'd begin to see things more clearly. Instead, bedtime came upon me and I was completely at a loss. Earlier in the day I called my brother Bill and jokingly told him that he should come up from D.C. to help me decide (like he has with every other apartment I've ever had dating back to when I was a "kid"). At first he said he had plans, but then later in the day -- and much to my delight -- he actually said yes! (He'll be here at 1 today!) Maybe he can make everything all right. Sometimes I don't feel like I was cut out for all this grown-up stuff ...


If these new ads from International Jock are indication, sales of Levi's underwear are about to go through the roof. Get yours HERE.
If my aversion to renting movies can be traced to one period in time, it was definitely the summer of '78. Going to the show, as Michiganders call it, has long been one of the greatest and most economical forms of escapism, and escape was just what I was needing that June I turned 11. While the history books tell us the late '60s were one of the country's most tumultuous times, being a child of the 1970s was hardly a walk in the park.
Like most of the nation, I spent those seven months in '74 transfixed by Patty Hearst -- only I wanted TO BE her. (She was newspaper heiress and she wore a beret!)
Watching Linda Blair have a torrid affair with her hunky abductor, Martin Sheen, the following year in the made-for-TV movie, "Sweet Hostage," only made my Patty obsession grow stronger. (And besides, with access to William Randolph there might be hope for the fledgling Hiller News.)
Most of '75 was dominated by news of the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa, who was last seen in a restaurant parking lot in nearby Bloomfield Township. (I used to pretend a Sambo's we occasionally went to was the scene of the crime.) Son of Sam kept me on edge during most of '76 and '77. I can still remember being seated on an ottoman at our neighbor Karen Muthil's house that balmy Wednesday in August David Berkowitz was arrested. (His mugshot still gives me nightmares.)
Meanwhile, we were busy being terrorized by our area's own serial killer, the uncreatively named "Oakland County Child Killer," who had murdered four kids my age and was suspected of many others. (You try sleeping at night when there's psycho driving around your neighborhood in a blue AMC Gremlin abducting and killing kids your age.)
"Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" (film number 3) may have starred Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees. And it may be considered one of the worst movies of all time. But I was 11, and I loved every second of it. While I had grown up listening to all sorts of music, my older brothers were more Simon and Garfunkel types, so "Sgt. Pepper" was -- for better or worse -- my first exposure to Beatles music. Need I say more? (After later buying a cassette at Green Acres drugstore of other non-Beatles performing these classic songs, you'll be happy to know I now own the album by the original recording artist.)
"Heaven Can Wait" (film number 2) was a wonderful picture (the Academy agreed). But it was the sight of dreamy Warren Beatty on the big screen as a Los Angeles Rams quarterback that sent my homosexual panic into overdrive. (Has there ever been a more handsome man?)
But it was the first of the three films I saw that summer that has provided me the most lasting escape. My Olivia Newton-John obsession was already out of control at this point. "Please Mister, Please" played on my family's basement stereo nearly nonstop, and it didn't take much for me to re-enact the balcony scene of "Evita" to ONJ's "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" off her "Making a Good Thing Better" album I picked up at Korvettes. So when the sun-kissed 







If the frosted hair and the voice aren't enough to tip you off to another gay guy in the area, then have I got the just thing for you. Grindr is a new iPhone app that uses GPS technology to sniff out other homos in your vicinity. Download it on iTunes HERE. Or you could just look for other guys who have iPhones.




This breakfast I saw on a stoop on West 21st Street looks almost as good as a bowl of Crispy Hexagons ...

I don't want to sound like I'm blaming the victim here because the murder of popular New York radio host George Weber is so heinous it boggles the mind. (No one deserves to be treated this way.) But just as public service announcement to my fellow gay Internet-loving readers (we've all met people online at one time or another), you might want to avoid running ads on Craigslist for young men to come over to your house to "choke" you while engaging in oral sex. You just never know which Satan-loving 16-year-old with a knife fetish (and a girlfriend) -- and a propensity for violence -- might show up. On his MySpace page, the teen wrote, "If you disrespect me then I will fuckin' break your neck." Somehow I guess it wouldn't take much for a 16-year-old "heterosexual" who is being paid 60 bucks for sex with a man to feel, um, "disrespected." Now the real homophobic character assassination begins as the defense claims it was Weber who pulled a knife on the "poor little misguided straight boy" and he was just "fighting back" against the "pervert." Very sad. (Full story HERE.)
Considering how I am, it's surprising I've never gotten more obsessive about Terry Hall. His fun hair and acute anhedonia alone make me love him. But then you throw in the fact that he's been a part of some my favorite songs of the last 30 years -- "Ghost Town," "Ain't What You Do," "Really Saying Something," "Our Lips Are Sealed," "Can't Get Enough of You Baby," "Thinking of You" and "Walk Into the Wind" -- you'd think I'd have more than a compilation CD to show for it. Listen to what I mean:
And here's an exciting update to my Tom Tom Club post from January. Further supporting my belief that you should never give up on old music finally making it into the digital age, it's been reported that in celebration of the 50th anniversary of Island Records, a two-disc deluxe edition of the Tom Tom Club's debut album is about to be released, with the deluxe-ness being the hitherto unreleased "Close to the Bone" album! Unbelievable news. Can Slow Children be far behind?
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