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June 30, 2003
Winged monkeys
First off, I’m ecstatic that I can now go back to Lubbock and have pure unadulterated sodomy fun in my house. NOW the Jacuzzi in the back of the house could be used for even wilder parties, if that is possible. Strom Thurmond finally dying on the same day just creates even more potential for a big gay holiday in the future. You wonder if someone melted that sexist bigot by throwing water on him. Will all of his winged monkeys now turn liberal?
Pride weekend was just chock full of fun. I didn’t go to the parade, but all the rainbows shining everywhere certainly made for perfect weather. The homosexuals descended on Manhattan like a big rainbow blanket. It was nice, as the gay bar I went to with Mike (Metropolitan in Williamsburg) was deserted, except for some particularly sketchy guys. I did volunteer as a bartender at the Pier Dance. Eight thousand perfectly sculpted shirtless boys sweating and dancing to pounding bass can definitely be overwhelming. Fortunately, I was able to go as an observer, protected by the bar and my volunteer badge. I have never seen so much Red Bull consumed, and the amount of depilated chest hair could probably plug a thousand sinks. The dark side of an event like that was also clearly evident from my viewpoint. Stretcher after stretcher of tweaked out boys flew past our alcohol station, out of sight of all the more fortunate boys. Perfect abs don’t look so sexy when wracked by spasms, tan faces look pale when lungs stop working, and the perfect outfit gets spoiled when covered in vomit. I felt jealous of these bronzed gods, but grateful that I’m not one of them. I think the price paid doesn’t equal the actual product.
This morning was pure sleepy joy, as I woke up naturally at ten a.m. Yes, I should have woken earlier, as Bear gave me one of her Catholic guilt looks, but it was so nice to luxuriate in extra somnolence, I couldn’t feel even slightly bad. I was late to class, but our new professor is cool. This evening I need to write a few papers, but it shouldn’t take me more than a few hours. I still feel like this is some kind of trick or short vacation, but I’m also feeling cautiously giddy.
This summer will be great.
Posted by G at 11:36 PM | TrackBack
June 28, 2003
School: Done.
I thought of writing something pithy for an end of the school year blog. I stared at the screen at random points this last weekend, unable to find anything pithy. I'm pithed off, honestly. I can say that the appetizers of anguish and turmoil followed by the entr'es of depression, exhaustion and failure were more than I had ordered, but that this year was great for muscle and mental growth. Must have been some vitamins in all that angst. Looking in the mirror, I see a face that has much more cynical eyes, some extra gray hairs, and a facial tic. Worse, I know that the thoughts behind the eyes are darker, less optimistic about the future for my kids, and saddened by the direction our country is going.
Any semblance of teaching twitched and died about three weeks back. Since then, I've seen the next generation of poker dealers develop in my classroom (their favorite game is Bullshit). I have to be grateful that the weather stayed cool until the very last day, because I hadn't realized that any instance of heat creates the need for water fights. We actually had to turn off the water faucets on Thursday because every wall, every door, and many teachers were soaking wet. Poor Ms. M. She is quite attractive, and she received gifts like Victoria's Secret shirts. Several horny young boys seized the opportunity to hose her down in their own juvenile version of a wet t-shirt contest. You know what they'll be going blind to this summer. Half the class was soaking wet, the other half was moaning about being dehydrated. We have no air conditioning except for the principal's office, so add hundreds of child sized BTU generators and you have a sauna.
I figured it could get bitchy at the final lunch the school held for the teachers, as there was a lot of resentment directed towards our outgoing principal. He has been essentially absent for the last six months as he was creating the funding and support of his new school. Good guy, but it is interesting to see how the goal sometimes eliminates the reason. There were some tacky comments, but most people fear the new tyrant assuming power. This new principal is so skeevy that over ten teachers are leaving. He has a serious history of intimidation and sexual misconduct. I'm ecstatic that I'm moving to the junior high upstairs. I'll be on the fourth floor, and the view of Manhattan is as good as any Park Slope loft.
It still hasn't dawned on me that I'm finished teaching for the summer. I went out last night with JD for coffee, dinner, and then beers. Every few minutes I experienced one of two cognitive dissonances: it was Friday night and I was being remarkably mild, or it was Thursday and I was being way too wild. It was a school night, for the sake of Pete! Speakinc of Pete, we ran into Peter at the bar G, where we had drinks and our Tarot cards read. I'm not into tarot readings, but when a man dressed as a Tiki god asks, what can you do? He forecast that I'm really stable, and that I need to take some greater risks soon. He also said I'll have to sacrifice something dear to me in order to achieve something I really want. He told me to play the field and that I should try something daring.
Of course, I saw the cards The Devil, The Hanged Man, and some other card with a guy being savaged in the crotch by a dog, but obviously I'm not an expert. If he interprets those cards as good change, we'll go with his interpretation.
This weekend I'm volunteering as a bartender at the Pier Dance on Sunday. I'm looking forward to the event, as I can do my favorite thing about bartending- observe a cultural event from a professional distance. Maybe I'll get some numbers when someone sees how magically I can pour a Guinness. With my luck, I'll meet someone who only drinks Coors Lite.
Posted by G at 12:07 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
June 23, 2003
Dog Food
This weekend was a rather mixed bag. Whether we can weather the weather another week, or whither we will wander to avoid wading through water next weekend makes one wonder, I wager. Wow. Actually, it was rather enjoyable except for the weather, and it could have been worse. I could have been one of the poor performers in the Coney Island Mermaid Parade being dissolved by the rain. I’m guessing that papier-mâché is only light weight and fun before gallons of rain make it weigh a zillion pounds. I know that the old giant penis costume got wet and collapsed under its own weight. Those people might as well have used their flippers to maneuver through the deluge. Kieran, Simon, John and I all squished our way to a dry restaurant for food, and the subway car was so muggy the windows all fogged up. View image
Friday I saw Finding Nemo with Peter. I have to say that I liked the movie. It isn’t the Hours, but as far as light comedies, it fit perfectly. Sunday I went to the Fulsom Street East Fair. I’m not going to say anything else, as I have a feeling these pictures are worth a thousand words.
View image
View image
Posted by G at 11:52 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
June 22, 2003
Summary of Year, Student POV
Yup. I'll write more this evening, but I had to show everyone the sketch drawn of me, courtesy an artistic 8th grader. He even got the watch on the sleeve.
There WAS a lot of yelling this year.
How will he remember me?
Posted by G at 01:58 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
June 19, 2003
Finally, Uzbek technology
Just for everyone's edification, they're not Uzbekistanis. They're just Uzbeks.Uzbek Tech
Posted by G at 09:27 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
June 18, 2003
Tattoo One
So here are my two current ideas for my tattoo. The odd shaped one is my father’s cattle brand, Triangle Lazy B. Notice my artistic representation looks high quality and 3-D. The little stick part is my interpretation of the handle while the triangle and horizontal B would be seared into the poor cow OR my back.
The second drawing is a scan of my dad’s business logo. Everything from the sides of our trucks, coffee mugs, and our office door had this little guy. Personally, I always thought he was fun, although his pants are funny. Not funny haha, but funny odd. 
Please vote on which should be permanently inked onto my body. Body part inked is also welcome. Also, if anyone has another idea, suggest it. Dan recommended a steering wheel because I love cars so much, but it made me think of someone steering me. I also need help making it look good. Enough hints?
Posted by G at 11:46 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack
June 17, 2003
Magic beans
I have to watch my personal grooming rather carefully. Family genetics imbued me with tons of hair everywhere, except for my head. If I allowed it, I would have a unibrow. If I allowed it, I could have a nose hair mustache. If I allowed it, my ears would suggest lycanthropy. Why they grow on these areas and not on the top of my head is a mystery that I would love to solve.
What I don’t get is how hairs just suddenly appear. I looked at my ears on Saturday. All good. Tuesday morning, a forty foot long trunk is looming out of my left ear. Did it coil up and hide deep inside my ear? Do they save up massive amounts of potential energy, surging suddenly and kinetically while I sleep? I’m thinking I must have some type of kudzu gene, and these hairs need just the right amount of sun. The top of my head would have too much sun, so they choose shadier places. I should always wear hats to coax them back onto the top of my head. I know this is all vain, but being a werewolf was never my idea, especially since there is no full moon.
Posted by G at 10:42 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
June 16, 2003
Herbivores and heifers
I just got home from dinner at Simon and John’s place in Carroll Gardens. As far as vegetarians go, these guys kick ass. If I could get food like that all the time, I wouldn’t mind giving up meat. Hell, I’d give up the amusing fantasy of wrathful cannibals chasing down their herbivore brethren because of their tender flanks. Unfortunately, having a master chef around seems unrealistic, so I’ll still make combo burritos and other delicacies for the near future. I am going to attempt to cook some of the items from the menu, especially this yummy chilled cucumber soup and the soy custard for dessert.
After dinner, we cleansed our mental palates with a refreshing Xanadu and Sextet. I’ve never seen Xanadu all the way through, and tonight was no exception. It was brilliant to watch with my friends, as they made fun of everything from Olivia Newton-John’s lack of dancing talents to the dildo-coifed muse. The final gem was Sextet, an ill-conceived film from the late seventies starring Mae West, a woman in her late seventies. The basic plot involves a female spy who has slept with all the leaders of the world. It was the prequel to Showgirls, as far as I can tell. Nothing can traumatize quite like a septuagenarian strapped into a metal girdle/pup tent dress and then propped into a bed awaiting her twenty something paramour Timothy Dalton. Well, maybe the constant innuendos about her sexual activities purported in the film. Every scene was horrifically splendid, showcasing why the federal age for retirement is 62. In some ways, I have to admire her for doing the film. She was apparently an extremely bold woman who really stretched boundaries. She was definitely stretching the boundaries of every dress in the movie, that’s for sure. I can imagine that everyone who worked on the film gritted their teeth but performed out of respect for her. Or maybe they were all just gay.
Posted by G at 09:01 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
June 14, 2003
Special Sauce dog yark
Nothing like waking up in the morning, stretching, and putting your hand in your poor dog's dried yark. My first impulse wasn't "Oh. My poor, poor dog." It was more of the "Aiiiieeee! Ewwww! Aieeeeee!" kind of reaction. I HATE cleaning up yark.
I had to relive the night, just to make sure it wasn't mine. Nope, I had four beers the whole night. I hung out with Scott, Steven, Andy, Jessie, Chris, and Sparky. Actually, seeing Sparky was more of the changing of the guards, as he passed the Jessie/Chris baton to me and raced off to bed. Those married boys, they have no stamina. I did my usual thing: fun with friends, chatting with cute guys, flirtation, then off to bed alone. I really should try to whore around more, as that would prevent my dog from sleeping on my bed and throwing up upon it.
That is reason enough. I'm sure of it.
Posted by G at 02:50 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Funny, yet not so funny
I've been trying to stifle my laughter this morning, as the roommates are asleep. Modern Humorist - Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Missing Weapons of Mass Destruction
Posted by G at 12:00 PM | TrackBack
June 13, 2003
San Fran Pics
Finally! I have some pics on a website! Woohoo! Just click on the thumbnails to see the full image.
Posted by G at 05:45 PM
June 12, 2003
Favorite Holidays
When I was five or seven, there were certain holidays that I relished. I had the typical faves- Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving. However, in at least one sense, I definitely wasn't like the other kids. Father's Day fascinated me. I'm not sure how old I was, but I definitely remember the first time I flipped through the local newspaper and came across the circulars from Sears, JC Penney, that sort of thing. Tingly. Enthralled.
Men in underwear. Men in underwear in locker rooms. Men in underwear, talking casually with each other. Men in underwear, drinking coffee. Sure, they were merely pictures, but on some basic level, I was completely hypnotised. I knew two things- I liked the pictures, and I knew even as a little boy that I should keep this fascination secret. Other little boys looked at the Mothers Day circulars, I'm sure. It was innocent, it was magical, it was crucial that it remain hidden.
I went through the progression of other images that other budding gay boys looked at. Exercise magazines, even though I had the skinniest body in the world. International Male catalogs, even though I would rather die than wear some of the clothes. GQ/Esquire, even though I had no fashion sense. I was, and still am, fascinated by the male body. I wonder which gay man thought of the idea of Mothers Day and Fathers Day. Let's just say I'm grateful.
Posted by G at 11:13 PM | Comments (2)
June 11, 2003
Penicillin Cup
It’s basically turning into a Lord of the Flies scenario at school, except no one has sunburns. I’ve already identified Piggy, and the fly-encrusted pig’s head is shoved into desk 14. The beach will be pink… the beach will be white… My seventh grade kids rampaged on the gym teacher during a coverage, surged out into the hallways, and were busy trashing everything in sight when I and three other staff forced them back into the room.
Somehow the weather, the exhaustion, and boredom have combined into a massive combustible heap. All it takes is one match, followed by a massive explosion. It doesn’t help that one of the deans (he is every kid’s best friend) leaked to them that the grades are already submitted. THAT piece of gossip has spread like wildfire through the school, and many kids know that there are no consequences. At that age level, they have a hard time conceptualizing consequences, so their removal is slightly catastrophic.
On a much happier note, my social life is rising from the ashes. This weekend I have the wonderful fortune of having Chris and Jessie stay as guests, plus we have Dennis, Mike, and soon Texas Chris living with us. Space is not an issue, the one bathroom is the issue. I’m not saying anything, but I am guessing that Bryan got his staph infection from the mold in the shower. I think we had other guests, but they were digested by the mold. Stephen King would make a story out of all this.
That triggers a happy memory. Back in high school, my French class raised a particularly toxic mold in a Taco Box Big Juan 64 oz cup. Someone had left this coke cup in a cabinet for months, and it sprouted mold once the carbonation died. We started feeding it random food, and it gradually grew to inhabit the whole cup. You could put a banana on top in the afternoon and the next morning it would have sunk down into the goo. After two to three days, it was gone, ready for the next meal. I saw our teacher, Madame Huey years later, and she told me she was horrified by it and threw it away as soon as we had left for the summer. And it was just developing space flight.
Posted by G at 11:05 PM | Comments (1)
June 10, 2003
The 12 Days of Lastmas
Realizing I have only 12 days left of teaching, I've written a celebratory song. Enjoy.
For the 12 days of Lastmath, my students gave to me:
12 desks a'flying
11 juvies skipping
10 fires alarming
9 children failing
8 ulcers spreading
7 lessons crashing
6 books a'stealing
5 FIVE MORE BEERS!
4 Mocking bullies
3 French kissers
2 loaded guns
and one nerve left to meeeeeee!
Posted by G at 10:18 PM | Comments (1)
June 08, 2003
Four foot diameter hooters
Saturday I went to Field Day 2003, courtesy of Dave and Erin Leamon. The two-day event was supposed to be in a field on Long Island, thumping with tons of cool bands. Dave (former roommate from Lubbock) took me to rock while his wife Erin went to shop. Dave is the ultimate person to go to concerts with. I’ve seen him in full KISS regalia, something that seems strangely appropriate. Apparently he’s a very good lawyer, but I think he missed his true calling as a big hair band singer. If I’m ever allowed one phone call, I know whom I’ll call. He also wears glasses with such strong prescriptions that when I borrowed them, I could actually see the cellular structure of the skin on my hand. I bet Stephen Hawking has the exact opposite prescription, which is why he can see to the limits of the universe.
This is the first time in years I went to a music event in a big stadium. Of course, this event wasn’t supposed to be in a stadium; otherwise they would have called it Stadium Day. However, they didn’t get the right permits, Suffolk County canceled, so they transferred as much as possible to Giants Stadium. I made the clever choice of wearing shorts and sunblock on my head so I could work on my tan. This made sense on Friday when the temperature rose to about 80. I think it dawned on me that this wasn’t such a good idea when the guy on the stage started advising people to watch for signs of hypothermia. We were up in the seats, directly underneath an eave, so we were perfectly dry, if a bit cold. The poor little hipsters below drifted aimlessly about like a pack of wet hip animals, most covered in a rainbow of slickers. It looked like some sort of condom ad for new colored rubbers. Perfectly mussed hair isn’t so perfect after having about eighty gallons of water dumped upon it, and these kids don’t have a lot of meat on them. Poor Beck apparently slipped heading towards the stage and was put in the hospital.
The bands were great. Beth Orton won me over with her bad jokes, Blur had a great set, and Beastie Boys were smooth. The nacho cheese product was as expensively tasty as ever. New Jersey has their own unique additive for spice: pepper. We even got to see two trashy girls expose themselves on Diamondvision. Nothing like having your B-cup enlarged to approximately 4 feet across a giant screen, I guess. One of them had nice breasts, the other one could have divined water with hers. Future tip for that girl- save it for the talk shows I don’t watch.
Posted by G at 11:24 PM
Pic of me!
I'm glad Barry found this, as I still can't figure out how to have it embedded on my site...
Posted by G at 10:52 PM | Comments (4)
Human sacrifices needed
First off, I need to sacrifice virgins to the two minor deities from whom all internet blessings flow. Barry recommended my server, helped me get everything running, and has the added attraction of being a stone’s throw from a Krispy Kreme. Plus he vaguely looks like Robbie Williams.
Dan and Rooster invited me over to their place Friday evening to make the site more personal. Dan spiffed it up, as apparently orange is the new black, or something. Stephen kept me entertained/distracted as Dan performed the surgery on my baby. Check out the randomly generated titles! Plus Dan vaguely looks like the gay dentist elf from Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.
Posted by G at 10:51 PM | Comments (4)
Lusty music
I am jones’ing on my new iPod, prominently mounted on my hip. “What? This? No, it’s not a pager. Let me show you.” I have no shame, and Apple really should pay me to be one of their evangelists. Every person at my school, my fave coffee house, everywhere- I’m an Eve for an Apple. “Looks tasty, huhFour other teachers are buying them this weekend because of me. I bet I’m more effective than those annoying people at the Apple Store.
Posted by G at 01:23 PM
Hookers and fashion
You know your neighborhood is moving up in the world when the hookers start to dress nicely. Since I’ve moved here to Bushwick/Williamsburg, it’s been a steady progression from seedy to quality seedy with organic grocery store. I’ve noticed this one hooker, she’s quite skanky, wearing the same stuff since Flashdance. However, I see her strutting today in a new fluorescent yellow pantsuit, basically a radioactive banana with giant breasts. Her saunter had an extra kick, and I felt that things are good with the world. If you’re a hooker and can afford a spiffy new outfit, things have to be good, right? Of course, this means my rent will go higher, but I’ve got to keep pace with the hookers.
Posted by G at 01:20 PM | Comments (1)
June 06, 2003
Invitation to scrawny
One of the local artists, Melanie Grizzel, always chats with me at Life. She thought I'd make a cool photo subject, but I think she was merely fascinated by someone surrounded by artists with no artistic skills. However, she has decided to put one of my pics on her postcards inviting people to the show. You can tell me what you think.
Posted by G at 08:39 PM | Comments (5)
June 05, 2003
Happy birthday to me!
Moving the old blog to the new site was a brobdingnagian effort, primarily because I kept screwing up the export process. However, it brought something to my attention. My blog will be exactly a year old in one week. Metaphorically speaking, I feel that purchasing the dedicated server is equivalent to my blog balls dropping.
Strolling through my posts was something of a meander into my mental state over the last year. Being a math teacher, I was tempted to graph the ups and downs, but I have to many other things to do. I have grown a lot over the last year, and having a record helps me realize that.
I think this calls for a celebration. All sorts of things are happening in one week, but I believe it is time for a party at the Swanktuary. I hope my roommate hears this, and that everyone wants loads of beer.
Posted by G at 08:16 PM | Comments (1)
The crazy guys are right
I was in Manhattan a few evenings ago, and an extremely ripe gentleman was shouting about the end being near. I strongly agree with him, although I bet I think the end is closer than he thinks. I think it's in exactly 21 days. For children who are in the eighth grade, it will come even sooner.
Posted by G at 08:12 PM
June 01, 2003
Supposedly the Eskimos have a
Supposedly the Eskimos have a hundred different ways to say snow. Dry snow, wet snow, dandruff snow. I'm thinking that New Yorkers should develop some new words to describe the types of rain.
Needed:
Rain that only occurs on weekends when you want to do something outdoors and stops as soon as you're back at work
Rain that feels like it is February, when actually it is June 1
Prescient rain that knows you forgot your umbrella
Prescient rain that knows you have your umbrella and simply looms menacingly
Rain that lasts just long enough to make all the dog poop on the streets extra mushy
Rain that gushes out of every meteorological orifice
Rain that is brought underground by the trains, streaking across the steel bodies
Rain that rolls across your bald head on a hot summer day, slowly rolling in cool rivers down to your shoulders, soaking your shirt, soaking everything: I like that rain.
Rain that stealthily clings to the tree limbs until dislodged by your proximity
Rain, rain, go away. Come again some other day. Please.
Posted by G at 10:31 PM | Comments (5)