The BGA

WOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Hello

Vancouver

, overcast cold

Vancouver

, so glad you could open your clammy arms to welcome heartbroken, up to no good me into your fold. Well at least I hope I’m so glad.

Woke at the crack of dawn after a ‘hey we broke up lets be friends’ meeting last night, and decided that a 5 hour flight could only be endured with a requisite Goodbye Toronto bat smokage on the 7th floor of the airport parking lot. good times gettin high looking at the dreary Toronto landscape and hoping that I’d wake up someone else at the end of my flight, or that at least they’d play a good movie….. no such luck. Still me here, although a little better for the wear, crunk as fuck in the airport lounge… and the movie sucked some Ryan Philippe spy crap, he can’t act worth a damn.

Which brings me to my next topic, if it turns out that I did not win the 40 mil lottery yesterday (my apologies to heats, j.b., e-train, poops and ted to whom I’d promised lavish vacays, I think it’s time for me to find an agent to get my ass cast in the next tri sequel epic, I want to make some insane bread off some shit lame doritos, pepsi 6 pack shit you know what I’m sayin, bout time the summer blockbusters had some smokin hot gay action… my only request… demand is that my love scene co-stars be none other than Oliver Martinez, and J.T. but J.T.’s character will obvi have to be a mute… a passionate mute.

Anyways I’m up here waiting on Heats so we can shoot what will no doubt be an epic video for Lightening Dust, a rad band/offshoot of the

Black

Mountain

kids. Hoping to hook up with Rose, Krista and Abbas, and YOU! That is if you live here in Van or somewhere else in B.C. and wanna come down find me, especially if you’re of the hot and horny variety. holla atcha boy!

I’m single ready to mingle and back posting blogs and exploiting my personal life for a cheap laugh…. no reason to keep this messed up shit to myself is there.

Hope you’re all well…. well some of you.

xoxo, A

Shit bitch,
O.K. So by now it’s perfectly clear exactly how gross Britney Spears really is.
And finger quotation excuses of "I’m country y’all" can’t even begin
to justify the extreme discomfort she has put us through in the last little
while (K-Fed, Cheetoh Crumb Face and who could forget Labiagate.) Clearly Brit
need to clean up her act , class it up a little, keep her couchie away from
prying eyes and start to work on her blotchy, swollen, pasty image.
Britney has, in the past, done well by emulating other successful women, her
predecessors, and repackaging their already successful formulae. Madonna,
Jen Gar’s Alias persona, Marlene Deitrich to name a few. These derivative
transformation had the success they did because they enabled Britney to act out
more sexy and sophisticated roles, that, even when entering raunchy territory,
still managed to flatter her them nubile physique and seemingly naive
personality.
Etant donnée…. Why the hell is her current makeover putting her in a league
of her own dressed up to the T as Penny Marshall? And not cute Laverne
and Shirley Penny Marshall, we’re talking Riding in Cars with Boys
Penny Marshall, I’m talking no red, green or otherwise coloured carpet to small
for a public appearance Penny Marshall.
Oh Brit What’s next your Estelle Getty Makeover?

Ooooh, Looks like Nicole Ritchie beat you there.

Anatomy of a diss

Stop me if you’ve heard this one… Some time
ago, the actor who plays a secondary character on the prime time drama Grey’s
Anatomy was inadvertently outed as a result of a hostile exchange between
two of his cast mates during filming. Most of you are aware of the incident and
the ensuing melodrama that got us all acquainted with virtual nobody T.R.
Knight, but for those of you who have lives, and don’t give a uff about the
backstage dealings of Hollywood’s b-list this is what you need to know.

Isaiah Washington and Patrick Dempsy were to
shoot a scene together and there was some kind of hold up that led to a heated
conversation between the two. At some point in said conversation Washington is
quoted as having shouted “I’m not your little faggot like T.R.” the story of
the altercation was quickly leaked to The Enquirer who ran the quote but
omitted T.R.’s name to ‘protect his identity.’ Of course the protection was
more of a taunt cause the story spread like Rose on a first date (date?
HA!) and by the next morning pretty
much every tabloid was either speculating on the identity of Dempsy’s alleged
‘little faggot’ or offering the question up as a blind item.

Soon after T.R. Knight released a statement to
the media admitting to being the ‘little faggot’ in question and went on to say
that: “While I
prefer to keep my personal life private, I hope the fact that I’m gay isn’t the
most interesting part of me.” Unfortch for him, those were both hoop dreams.

After
this the Grey’s Anatomy p.r. people did their best to get everything under
control, and make like the cast was one big happy family and suggest that the
feud was blown out of proportion. Knight became a regular feature on celebrity
blogs generally pictured with his boyfriend, some other TV. nobody from Brother
& Sisters, shopping in L.A. or picking up his soy mocha chai latte frappachino from Starbucks. Washington
didn’t talk about it at all. That is, until this week on the red carpet at the
Golden Globes where Washington first joked: "I love gay. I wanted to be
gay. Please let me be gay." As if that lameness wasn’t enough later on in
the pressroom following the shows victory for best use of hair extensions or
something, he tried to deny his role in the whole scandal by flat out claiming:
“No, I did not call T.R a faggot. It did not happen.”

At
This point T.R. who was standing only feet away, obviously mortified, turned
his head as if to avoid witnessing the gore of a high-speed crash. Katherine
Heigl a fellow cast member who was clearly not impressed with Washington’s
outright denial spoke briefly with an Access Hollywood camera crew and said:
“I’m going to be really honest right now, he needs to just not speak in public.
Period. I’m sorry, that did not need to be said, I’m not okay with it.” She
then went on to say that she had her man T.R.’s back should push come to shove:
“I will throw down for that kid. I will beat you up. I will use every ounce of
energy I have to take you down if you hurt his feelings.” And for Washington’s
benefit I assume she continued: “saying that word again is just unnecessary.”
The ‘again’ part really sealing the deal as far as where she stands on this
whole “I did not have sexual relations…” scenario is concerned.

After
all of that ‘best drama’drama, T.R. once again was faced with the dubious task
of setting the record straight and separating fact from fiction. He made an
appearance on the Ellen Show and told Ellen that: “He [Washington] referred to me as a faggot…Everyone heard it.” And
went on to say the Washington’s callous remark had forced him out of the
closet. As for Washington’s award night denial T.R. had this to say: "Yeah,
he denied that he said it. I don’t know what to say… really, about
that."

Now
GLADD and some other West Hollywood heavyweights are campaigning for
Washington’s dismissal while other are crossing their fingers for a bizarre
plot twist (on Grey’s Archenemy) that would finds Isaiah on the
receiving end of a homosexual subplot.

I
just don’t understand what led Washington to think that pretending it never
happened was gonna help him save face. Like grow a pair already, take a page
from the book of Mel, sit down with Diane Sawyer or Meredith Vieira or one of
those other sympathetic motherly morning types and apologize, come clean.

Mel
gets caught drunk driving and then blames Jews for all the worlds woes, so he
says sorry, gets treatment and lets it be known that he was raised by a
notorious racist holocaust denier. Michael Richards gets heckled and proceeds
to say nigger 500 consecutive times after telling his heckler that in the good
ol’ days he would have been strung up to a tree. And as soon as he can he gets
on Letterman, too ashamed to show up in person and acknowledges his guilt says
sorry and admits that he followed a joke made in poor taste too far. Sure the
world hasn’t exactly forgiven him, but he can still find a way to make right.
Even Arnold Schwarzenegger, who at the time was running for governor, conceded,
“where there is smoke, there is fire” and that indeed, in his heyday, he did
forcibly finger fuck a P.A. (well not in so many words) He blamed the incident
on his extremely high testosterone and her extreme hotness and went on to win
the election.

A
little self-fladulation is called for here and maybe even some public introspection,
why did he call T.R. a Faggot? And what does he have against little people?
…other than the obvious creep factor.

He
could balme being a black man. Any gay will tell you the boogieman is a group
of black guys walking behind you and kissing their teeth while you’re on your
way home from the club. Obvi not all blacks guys are scary gay haters, but as
someone who works in lil Jamaica let me tell you, the nasty cat calls are a
easy reminder that I need to work a little harder not to swish my hips when I’m
tryin to catch the Ossington 63. But seriously, this could be a great moment
for Isaiah Washington to address a pertinent social issue. Not to mention what
he could do for black gay people who as Langston Hughes put it are sinners
against their race.

I do
believe we will definitely be hearing from Washington in the next little while.
I hope he has the good sense to hire a publicist (and a gay one at that) before
he makes his statement. And though I know it’s a far cry I do hope he takes my
advice, not because I like him, but because I give good advice. Can’t live my
own life worth shit, but I’ll tell you what to do with yours.

Oh
and look at that it’s 4:00 o’clock time for me to go home and get hammered,
ttyl.

Xo
Shants

I guess right about now everyone’s talking
about Christmas trees and shopping, and lineups and eggnog and gift giving and
shit, but the only thing I hate more than all of that crap is people moaning
about all that crap. This morning at the bus stop I had to listen to some
borderline stranger I made the mistake of smiling at one day 6 months ago, and
who has subsequently become the chatty Cathy who keeps me from my busride
bookread, going on about cookies and office parties and finding the perfect
gift, man it was enough to make me wish I had a bottle of Fireball in my pocket
(my sister’s boyf Ted’s weapon of choice for this trying time of the year.) But
like I said I hate that shit, so instead I’d rather talk about stabbing, or
more specifically being stabbed.

Poops and I watched an old episode of Buffy
last night. We’ve been at eachothers throats a lot lately and had a bit of a
session dealing with it, so a bit of teenage gothic melodrama punctuated by
gore and one liners was a fitting means of healing our relationship wounds.
Anyways the episode we watched was the one where the first is
triggering Spikes dark side back into action with that song and then the
seekers come a take him from Buffy’s basement and then carve all of these
creepy symbols on his chest to open up a diabolic porthole in order to release
one of those creepy prehistoric bad ass unkillable vampires. I know what your
thinking, how things have changed since we were in high school, and gripping
quality shows like this peppered the prime time landscape (Dawson’s Creek
anyone?) and now all we have is the ‘rape em, kill em, solve em’ dramas 5
nights a week, even Top Model has lost it’s edge… my suggestion is that next
season, Tyra drinks the blood of each weeks castaway.

So the seekers had to drain Spike’s blood cause
the first can’t take corporeal form, right? And those little
seekers really like their knives so they were taking great pleasure in the
stabbing part. And before that Andrew had stabbed Jonathan to open up some
other porthole and the first took Jonathans form and described
the feeling of the stabbing “Sharp at first then warm and the burning and
kind of itchy”. And yesterday afternoon I watched Talladega with the
Lockstock, JJ and E-Train and Will Ferrell Stabs himself in the leg (which
incidentally was effing hilarious.) And then there’s this news story of the
mother who was wrongfully accused of stabbing her daughter 90 times, when in
fact the kid had been attacked by a dog. So it came as no shock to me in my
dream last night when some random disgruntled broad stabbed Wallace in the
side, while Veronica and I dodged rocks being thrown at us from convicts as we
were attempting to convince Kate, who was looking good after Lock had figured
out a new island invention (hot rocks and a spatula as a primitive flat iron
for hair), to help us sneak into the records office at the library. I though it
was the least she could do after my bag had washed up on the shore and she had
taken it upon herself to look through my personal photo album. Anyways Veronica
seemed to be really unnerved by Wallace’s stabbing, I was little more
non-challant and figured it would take care of itself, and that we should just
try to stick to the task at hand. It made me think of that time when Gisele
told Jay Leno that after she was thrown of her horses back, her ridding
instructor told her to get up and get back on the horse immediately, otherwise
she’d never get over the fear of being thrown and wouldn’t be able to jump. So
I was like ‘if Wallace lets this stabbing thing stop him now, he’ll always be
too afraid to solve mysteries and will end up miserable, living with his mother
and delivering pizzas on a bicycle for the rest of his life.’ At first Veronica
was reluctant but eventually she saw things my way… or was it Gisele’s way…
it’s so hard to tell cause we share a 74% facial likeness.

So I guess the moral is that you can’t let
being stabbed keep you from your GGT, which in my case is finding things,
otherwise the fear will cripple you and lost belongings will never resurface.
Think about that while you wait in line with a bunch of bitches rattling into
their cell phones about how long they’ve standing in front of you.

Happy holidays.

Xo Shants

I
had posted a while back of the breakup between Marc Jacobs and his GLR*
boyfriend, Jason Preston. It turned out that they hadn’t broken up… I don’t
know if I bothered to mention that. I do remember having posted a link to
Jason’s Friendster page, which I wont do a second time, you can look through
the archives if you want to find it.
Anyways following my less than kind analysis of the situation (although I was
not alone in doing so) I read a rather angry missive on Jason’s page regarding
the coverage of what ended up being a fabricated breakup. I’m sure it wasn’t
directed at me, given my humble readership of 2 or 3 people, but I felt bad
none the less, I certainly wouldn’t want everybody chiming in to remind me what
a fucktard I was if I got dumped, especially not in print for public
consumption, so I apologized. But then I read this today… and all I could
think was, HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
and not just for Jason Preston, who has a tattoo of Marc Jacobs name (as
evidenced in a previous blog) on his forearm, but also for stupid ass Marc
Jacobs, whose desk was photographed for Jalouse or Citizen K or some other high
priced European Fashion magazine, on which sat in some tacky Swarovski crystal
picture frame a photo of hustler white himself (JJ Preston) with Mimi at some
party and I was just like is this really what you want people to see of your
work space? Some trick ho gallivanting with a puffy washed up camp queen… I
know, I know, it’s hard to tell which of the 2 deserves which title, meh If I’m
not mistaken they’re both Jersey Girls with ladders in their eyes. Anyways, So
I read this, and I laughed… Also I want to highlight that Trick Ho (JJ P) is
now in his element, or natural habitat it seems chumming it up with none other
that Perez! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
Here it is from Rush and Molloy:

Report of split not so far off the Marc

Looks like designer Marc Jacobs wants nothing to do with his one-time boyfriend, hardbodied former rent boy Jason Preston.

We reported last month that the pair had split, which earned us this
electronic tongue-lashing from Preston: "We’re still happily together.
DAMN, get your facts straight & stop hating." And true, the couple
looked cuddly at a Nov. 14 party.

But now it seems the twentysomething Twinkie might have to change his "Marc Jacobs" forearm tattoo to "Markdown."

We ran into Jacobs yesterday at the premiere of Michael Lucas‘
flashy high-budget skin flick "La Dolce Vita." Asked how Preston was
doing, Jacobs told us, "I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t seen him. I
haven’t spoken to him. I don’t know what he’s doing. And if he told me,
I’m not sure I would believe him, because he’s not a very honest
person."

Ouch. Preston didn’t respond to our E-mails yesterday, but we did
suspect the worst when, a mere two weeks after Preston defended his
relationship with Jacobs, our own Ben Widdicombe reported the ex-hustler making out with gossip blogger Perez Hilton.

When did things go sour? A source tells us it may have been a night the
couple spent with friends at the gay lounge Therapy, when Jacobs was
introduced to a handsome young fellow, who will remain nameless for now.

The designer gave the 23-year-old a warm greeting on Tuesday, and we
hear he was to be a guest at Jacobs’ holiday masquerade party last
night.

GLR= Gay, Lame and Retarded, as coined by Erika "E-Train" McMeekin

befalling, big break, break*, breaks, circumstance, connection, contingency, convenience, cut*, even break, event, excuse, fair shake*, fighting chance*, fitness, fling*, fortuity, freedom, go*, go at, good fortune, good luck, hap, happening, hope, hour, juncture, leisure, liberty, look-in, moment, occasion, one’s move*, one’s say*, one’s turn*, opening, pass, prayer*, probability, relief, room, run, scope, scope, shot*, show, space, spell, squeak, stab, time, turn, whack*

This is an update on the whole Britney K Fed bust up… literally.
Since filling for the D-vo Brit’s been keepin her bust up, up and out actually, scroll down to the previous entry to see the ambitious blonde who describes herself as "country" manages to make an oversize comfy knit sweater into a slutty plunge neck tit accessory.
I’m sure it has something to do with her mama suckers being full of milk, and her marriage crumbling and her desire to be lusted after and hopefully make Spenderline jealous in the process, but shit bitch, give dignity a chance.
To say nothing of the fact that no matter how many ‘let’s class this bitch up’ make overs her fag squad gives her (the latest being that bob and slightly more sophisticated and closer to stylish wardrobe) she ruins the whole thing and looks like this within only a few days.
Sure she’s got 2 infants and she running around New York, she’s real busy, but fo real ho, hire your ass someone to look after that nasty mess of hair you got, FULL TIME, shit!
And FYI desperate housewife is actually slightly less depressing and creepy than desperate divorcée so maybe you wanna rethink those necklines.
Since i’m not a total bastard i will finish this post with a backhanded compliment:
compared to your face Your tits look amazing, I can see too much of them, but they’re in top form.

I wrote this yesterday but didn’t post it cause i wanted a little time to think it over and make sure I wasn’t just running my mouth off.

After long consideration it seemed clear to me that A) I am totally running my mouth off, and B) that’s never really stopped me before so who gives…
But still this disclaimer is in place and for a couple reasons….  New details have (slightly) changed, cause I’m still a little nervous about talking out of my ass.
whateves here’s whats left…

2 wrongs officially don’t make a right.

Unless you’ve been living in a vacuum or like
an actual interesting country where there’s actual interesting news, you’ve no
doubt been informed that Britney Spears has filed for divorce (2 years and 1
month after her first real official marriage.) You may have also heard that the
Democratic Party in the U.S. has taken back a majority position in the House of
Representatives (first time in 12 years) and is on the brink of doing the same
in the senate (we’ll know more later in the day.) Today We know that they in fact have.  Here in Toronto we’re coming
up on municipal election and it looks as though the incumbent candidate David
Miller is going to take it (which is sort of the lesser of evils scenario…
although I don’t have any huge issues with Miller, it seems as though his first
turn as Mayor has been only O.K. and not Great.) Oh and Sadamm’s getting hanged.

Whateves. Point is there’s all sorts of shit going down, some big
changes, some sure bets and some I had only hoped in my wildest dreams (the
latter referring to crazy Evangelical leader and former president of the
National Association of Evangelicals, which among other things has some serious
lobbying power, Ted Haggard admitting to be a meth using pole smoker… despite
his condemnation of pole and it’s smokage…)

So what do all of these things have in common…
and in which way do they all refer to my Wyclef Jean inspired title? Being a
creep begets creepyness, you don’t need to add to the vicious cycle by creeping
it out further.

In the last couple of months we’ve been reading
and hearing about all sorts of republican scandals, mostly of the gay sex
variety. And like, we could watch an inside edition special on all of those
stories, or have mud slinging contests where all the candidates take their turn
chastising their opponents based of these ‘shortcomings’ if you will. But aside from some witty jokes on late night T.V. (if indeed you were lucky
enough to catch the witty ones, which were few and far between) shouldn’t the
shame and embarrassment of being revealed as a double standard hypocrite fear
panderer be enough of a punishment without the accusatory ‘paid for by’
adverts?

Don’t we have more to gain, culturally, by
taking the high road when these kinds of situations arise?

As for the Britney Spears K Fed thing, I recall
making a posting not so long ago that drew parallels between Bobby and Whitney
and Brit and Kev. I expressed a reluctant sympathy for Spears who was clearly
not dealing well with the life she’s inadvertently built for herself. In the
case of Whitney, I feel the severity of her meteoric fall from grace is enough
to warrant both sympathy and support. In addition, I think Huston’s public role
in her divorce from husband of 14 years was for the most part pretty quiet,
Whit opting to make her first public appearance about a week after the initial
reports were made, and her focusing primarily on herself, her rehabilitation,
her immanent comeback.

As for Spears, her making a ‘new body new
haircut’ cameo on Letterman the same day that she signed the paper to dissolve
her marriage, and turning up all over New York in those Tities McPhee outfits,
not to mention telling reporters she’s doing just fine and feeling great,
strikes me as a little cold and heartless, especially when you take the
following 2 things into consideration: 1. Her filling of the divorce papers on
the 6^th of November is not mistake… The FederSpears Pre-nup
indicated that K fed is to receive $30,000.00 a month for the duration of half
of the period (in years) that they were wed. They were Wed October the 6^th
2004 (there is a 30 day give or take clause so her filling within 2 years 1
month means one less year of alimony for her to doll out.) And while many may
ask why the fuck should Spears have to pay K Fed in the first place I would
contend that spare the attention he paid to other ladies and his man posse, he
gave her exactly what she wanted for a long time, can you imagine living with
Britney and her inane rambling and temper tantrums, not to mention the “air
quotes” for 2 plus years??? Trust me 30 grand a month for a year would seem
like that much of a payoff, cause remember in addition to the aforementioned
personality traits Ms. Spears possesses, she was preggers for like half of their
marriage, a.k.a fat, ugly, cheeto breath, grumpy demanding and fat, O.K. so
short changing him when she’s worth approx $65 mil seems a bit stingy if you
ask me, he also gave her the two babies she wanted so badly (but I think he got
some kind of if I give her a baby clause in the pre-need pre-nup)

2. She told him in a text message on his
blackberry WHILE he was being interviewed for MuchMusic, an interview I saw
part of where he was gushing about his love for his family. While on air he
received a Text that seemed to upset him, he walked of stage for like half hour
and came back visibly shaken… What kind of cold-hearted Brad Pitt bitch would
do that? ‘Hey Kev, good luck in Canada! P.S. it’s over, I filed D-Vorce papers
2day. TTYL Brit’

We all though he wasn’t good enough for her, but even if he was
sleeping with all of her best friends and her mom and sister, texting him in
another country instead of a phone call, girl that’s just low. Some things
shouldn’t be said in e-mails, sometimes when you have a really harsh thing to
say to somebody, you need to actually say it. And like not be a vindictive
coward. Cause it’s not gonna help you sleep any better when you have to answer
to yourself about willfully hurting someone you used to love. Not to mention,
if you want to keep public sympathy on your side and seem like the victim of a
bad husband, you have to handle yourself, pardon me if I say, but it’s “not so
innocent” to be out-creeping the creepshow.

After today’s reports… I have to retract all of that, cause apparently
they both knew this was coming and they have not been talking for like 2 weeks.

However I have this to add: A) Britney is
giving away the rights (like giving as in free of charge) to publish photos of
her new baby to circumvent Kev’s making any bread off of them.

B) given B’s ‘tell all’ nature, and the fact that she’s got something
good to tell now, I foresee a Vanity Fair Cover (à la JanAn- Nicole Kidman,
post break up gore fest) she’ll be naked in the pics, with sheets draped over
her implants and her naked babies rolling around near her like a wannabe
Angelina MILF

Here I’d like to note, that while we now have more details Re: K Fed’s trying to squeeze mo money out of the D-vorce settlement and that sounds kind of creepy and lame but truth be told, I Think Spenderline does deserve more that $250,000.00 paid out over a year for being married to Britney. He’s more than a laughing stock, he’s like the global village idiot. whateves.. this is what i had to say yesterday…

I do hope Britney gets back on her feet for
real, and starts to wise up regarding her life and career moves, but I can’t
help but feel sympathy for Federline who’s already considered the worlds
biggest loser, for all that he’s lost and I’m not talking about his custom made
motorcycle (cause there was a clause in the pre-nup where gifts exceeding
$10,000.00 in value are returned to the giver.) K Fed for all of his
disgustingness did truly seem to love his family sort of sometimes. He’s losing
more than the gravy train; he’s losing the only person who had any faith in him
as a rapper, as a father, and as a husband… That’s a lot to be without.

Regarding Haggard, calamity Jane Pitfield, and
all of the disgraced senators and congressmen, I feel like you guys can deal
your own punishments without anybody needing to twist the knife.

Mr. Haggard in particular cause he’s been so
adamant and preachy in the past about the ‘dark evils’ of homosexuality. At
first I found myself saying ‘I hope he can never get laid again cause no self
respecting gay is willing to put up with his shit,’ but then I rethought it and
I decided I’d rather that when he’s done struggling to live a life that’s not
him, he accepts who he is and what he wants (cock.) And that all of those
churchy people who are praying for his soul, see his inability to ‘cure’ his
pole worship as a sign from God, that God loves fags and those who take it in
the pooper have a special place in heaven.

So First she didn’t and then she did, and then
she couldn’t and then Oh no she di’ent!

But now it looks as though she has… or will.

Malawian baby David, in who pop super star
Maballah had shown interest in (adopting that is) has now officially (according
to BBC online… that’s where I read it) lifted off Malawian soil and is headed
for his new home with little Lola and Rocco to be a chocolate chip in Madges
banana loaf family. Good deed or not, public relations stunt, marriage
band-aid, or an Angelina like desire to ‘heal the world’ the fact remains that
some poor ass orphan is gonna get to grow up filthy stinkin rich. Fuck, if
Mabs’ PR bitch told her that adopting 25-year-old Canadian homos would revive
her career, I’d be first in line to become her chosen progeny.

So now all these Malawians are all up
in arms about ‘how dare Madonna be allowed to ignore the laws of Malawi (where
there is a mandatory 18 month waiting period between applying for adoption, and
obtaining custody of the adopted child) and be given custody after only a two
week period’ and I say ‘true dat’, she shouldn’t be above the law, but then I
say: “hear me now!” Maballah is well rich, and her 2 other kids look well taken
care of and relatively happy. I also say money or no money, crazy, uptight, or laid-back
hippy; most parents raise at least one neurotic freak (that would be me in my
family.) David is going to have it just fine, and while breaking the rules isn’t
good for upholding the rules, would it not be more tragic to be baby David and
make it so close to being a rich ass mofo and be hauled back to some orphanage
than to say, yeah we loved the material girl when we were like 12, and if she
wants to buy one of our babies, shit yeah she can.

I’m not some Madonna freak, in fact I think she’s
a bit of a twat, but I will never stand in the way of rags to riches, unless the
riches belong to a pervy molester.

I wish David the best
of luck with his new family, and I do hope when he learns to read that he
somehow finds this post and decides that I deserve a cash reward for fighting
for his right to party with Shiloh.

So I sort of dropped the ball last week when I
began that posting about all of these gossipy things, particularly with respect
to Mark Foley, but I figured if you were reading my post and were that
interested you find the goods yourself.

If you didn’t, and you’re still curious, here’s
the abbreviated Para phrasal of his internet antics.:

MF- you so sexy child, tell me ‘bout yo’self

Boy Page-I like to jerk off face down on the
bed

MF-Cool.

MF- are you hard now

BP- Sort of

MF- Cool

And then after all that a former page confessed
that he had consensual adult sex with Foley when he was in college. This made a
lot of press, I’m not quite sure why, MF had already acknowledged that he was a
pole smoker, and the former page was legal age at the time, and no longer a
page, he was just a trick ho who wanted some capitol hill ass.

Anyways the whole Mark Foley is a perv thing is
sort of tired, no?

And what’s really tired and pretty effing
annoying is the whole I have a drinking problem, I’m gay rationalization he
threw out after the scandal broke. Being a drunk and or a homo does not a
sexual predator make. Being a horned up kid lover who thinks it’s about that
time maybe, so lets not loose site of that.

Regardless, gossip aside it’s been a pretty odd
week and I’m finding it pretty difficult to keep my head on track. The duration
of my happy optimistic enthusiastic vs. hopeless demoralized, completely lost
mood swings is getting smaller, this is to say I’m rapid cycling between
‘things are gonna get better’ and ‘I wanna die.’ Today unfortch finding me
humming the latter through easy tears as I read about the liberal leadership
convention…. What gives you ask? Well wouldn’t you like to know, I for one
would.

I went back to MTL last weekend for thanks
giving and I got to visit with Lanni and B. We laughed and vented about the
relative uselessness of our educations. In all fairness we agreed that there
were abilities we had honed in school but as far as realistically being able to
retain employment in our fields with these ‘educations’ that we would have to
contend with the giant gaps in what would presumably be our skill set coming
out of the degree program we graduated from. (We also agreed that my favorite
way of communicating is in run-on sentences.)

I’m just frustrated that after four years in a
photo program that I’m still under qualified to be a god damn assistant. I’m
not up to par to be a goddamned under paid helper. It’s almost like the ethos
of our school was art or nothing if you can’t support yourself through grants
or sales of your ‘art’ work you should be a waiter (or a teacher).

I’m 25 and I got bills to pay, and I don’t even
know if I like art anymore….

I want a J.O.B. and not as a call center rep,
not as a sever, not as a clothing sales person.

I know I moan a lot on this page, and I’m sure
you’ve all read or heard me going on about how much I wish I could have been
born filthy rich or at least have a parent in the industry I want to work in so
that I could make nepotism work for me, cause as it stands nepo is the name of
my game, only I’m not all that interested in the steel forgings and castings
game.

Anyways all I can say is that I hope tomorrow
finds me on the up swing, and I hope my shitty c.v. and sample images can get
me this no pay job I’m going to try and find time for, and that in the end it
will all work out.

I guess the real scary truth is that I can’t
imagine myself doing any of the things I like for a full careers worth of time.
I can only imagine myself getting sick of everything one by one, and surely I
wont be able to take on some unpaid internship every time I want to jump ship. I
can’t think of another way for the world to work that might be more accommodating
to my ADD but I know this one aint it. But then again blaming and moaning about
the way the world works seems kind of lame, cause it’s just a distraction from
the fact that I have no choice but to cope.

I just really wish I had
a big ass fortune.