Saturday, May 26, 2007

A touch of the deja vu

Most people know that the first guy I ever dated was a drag queen (hi Oleander!) I joke now that the reason we broke up was that there was only enough room for one diva in any of my relationships, but Olly is a good friend who I love dearly. Lives in a fabulous apartment with his boyfriend in East Melbourne, too, and is an amazing artist (I still have to commission him to paint me something when I've got some dosh).

ANYWAY, the point of this post is that I just saw this in one of my procrastinatory moments - fabulous video of what goes into transforming a boy into a girl (for the night). Check it out:

[Queerty - The Making of a Queen]

Narcolepsy is, like, evil

Damn this stupid jetlag.

It's screwed with me all week. I've fallen (further) behind in my studies.

Tonight, I even managed to randomly fall asleep on Wilma's couch (not an unusual occurrence if I've had a few). Still wearing my shoes and glasses.

My head hurts.

Friday, May 25, 2007

You say 'tag', I write 'wtf'

Ok, I've been tagged, which means something - I'm not sure exactly what, but gathering on other posts, I'm supposed to give eight random facts about myself. I think. Here goes:

  • I didn't speak English until I was four. However, I used to speak Ukrainian pretty much fluently from the age of two until four. Funny to consider when I try to speak in ukrainian to grandma on the phone, or even the amount of verbal diarrhoea that I spew forth in english nowadays.
  • My mother was almost an Italian citizen. She was born within a couple of weeks of my grandparents arriving in Australia from Trieste. Coulda woulda shoulda prada, but it may have meant that my siblings and I could get an EU faster than waiting for either Bosnia or Ukraine to become proper members.
  • Whilst at university, I used to work as a bussie at the coolest drum and bass night in Melbourne - this was when I had no sense of style. God knows how I managed to score so many drugs, dressed up in black dress pants, a black Bonds t-shirt and crappy dress shoes.
  • Speaking of university, when I was queer officer at Melbourne University Student Union, we had the inaugural Queer Recruitment week, including all manner of military imagery for the posters. The queers loved and hated it, but it managed to get a laugh out of practically everyone, even the military recruiters all over campus. (To give credit, the idea was my co-office bearer's - I just got to have fun with Photoshop, Quark and Illustrator putting the pics together).
  • Oh, for Queer Recruitment week, we had a karaoke night, for which I turned up in the gayest outfit I've ever worn (I think I might still have the olive mesh top lying around somewhere). When noone wanted to go first, my co-QOB got me to go up and chose the song - Aqua's Barbie Girl.
  • Screw You by Elton John is one of my favourite songs.
  • I really don't like Carson Cressley.
  • Or Gretel Killeen. More specifically, Gretel's stylist.
  • For that matter, I'm not a fan of Bathy's stylist either.
  • Big fan of Bathy, tho - Love her work. Apparently, she makes great cupcakes for la Wilma, too.
Oops. 10 points. Right, who's next? Manky?

[Some random person that this is all due to]

Monday, May 14, 2007

LA was a Riot

I've had heaps of fun, staying at a friend's place in WeHo. Some thoughts about my mini-break:

1) Wear flip-flops/thongs to the airport.
No one likes those smelly-sock-feet when you're going through the domestic security screen.

2) Check for all your stuff before you leave
Know how you forget something when you go on holiday?
This time it was my debit card. Except I realised that it was stolen and someone withdrew the balance of the account last week. Bugger. Oh well, something to talk to the police about tomorrow. And then the bank.

3) Keep your laptop separate from the rest of your hand luggage for the security screen at the airport.

I'm a lucky boy. Security forced me to sit while they lifted and separated my luggage. Then they ran the piles of stuff through the scanners. Twice.

4) Be gracious in accepting your hosts' hospitality.

Especially if they're both hot. Offer gifts - like mornings full of groups sex. Especially when they're both into it.

5) An Australian accent does all sorts of things to gay Americans.

Especially hot latino men who will drop to their knees and offer a good blowjob at an after-hours blowout.

6) Go to after-hours blowouts...

7) No matter where you go, Cher is still a diva

As is Madonna, Babs, Better and all the others. And the Americans now know who Kylie is - especially the dancing queens.

8) References to Prisoner: Cell Block H will get you anywhere with 30+ yo hot gay men.

This is just randomly added for QP's amusement.

9) I love LA, but I couldn't live there.

That said, I'll happily visit WeHo at the drop of a hat.

Oh, there's a really cool hat store there called Goorin Brothers - very nice.

10) Most important - check out the bartenders at every venue, and make sure to talk to them.

They'll sometimes give your drink for free if they think you're hot - cf. item #5 above.

11) Uncle Charlie is not a nice copassenger, no matter how short the flight.

aka. White lines - don't do it.

kisses, B

Friday, May 11, 2007

Can't. Talk. Must. Study.

I have been very lazy when it comes to my studies whilst here. Really must finish all that work due two days ago.

Anyway, some more random observations from today:

Oh, and best for last - I sat opposite a real life, latina Vicky Pollard on the bus this morning. I mean, full-out over-tight black jacket with overly small black denim capris, white plastic belt and hoop earrings, black sneakers, tight black ponytail with brass-coloured fringe flicking to the right...

Ok, so she looked a little more like 'I ain't bovvered' Lauren's best friend from the Catherine Tate Show than Vicky, but as soon as she started gossiping loudly about some friends of hers, how she had been suspended from school and her man, all I could think was 'No, but yeah, but no, but yeah...'

The First Rule of Berkeley Book Readings is Don't Talk about the Line

I've been getting some strange comments from the guys at work. They're all having trouble understanding my 'accent' - apparently, the 'toilet paper English' Australians speak is hard for Americans to comprehend.

Anyway, moving Backwards...

Last night - After my first gym session since arriving: obligatory Tales of the City checkoff moment (a drink at The Stud II), followed by dinner and drinks with a pastry chef cum architect in the Castro. Fabulous new recipes for salads and desserts, and getting taught 8-ball and 9-ball at the pool table at Moby Dick's.

Wednesday morning - Franciscan monk spotted on the corner of Church & 14th. As is typical, wearing red laptop satchel and wearing a NY Yankees baseball cap. Franciscans in San Francisco - who would've thought?

Sunday afternoon - the boys from the office hired a car and took me around town. Saw the most amazing view from Twin Peaks of the city (it was a fogless day, and I typically forgot my camera), and had hamburgers from this fantastic hole in the wall in Sausalito after sleazing over hot men on the beach in Marin County. This was then followed by a couple of drinks at The Mix. The weirdest thing? Toss up - meeting a meek drag queen or a man who begged I sleep with his ex so that he could get some sex...

Saturday - After crawling out of bed at 3pm, went for late brunch at the Grove on Fillmore
(Pacific Heights) - really nice! Then stumbled through Chinatown and upper downtown til I eventually found Union Square. Met the Support Diva, and she took me with her to a book reading by Chuck Palahniuk at UC Berkeley. (photos on the Flickr account)

The sight of all those aspiring writers did something to us. The Diva and I came up with a great introductory speech ("You really think you can make it as a writer? Well, you can't!! It's too hard a life - just ask this schmuck..."). Then I managed to fall asleep during one of the readings. Thank God I don't snore. Oh, and he threw out fake dismembered limbs and plastic hamburgers at the end of the event. I have a hamburger - got it signed, but only after a TWO HOUR wait in the line. Diva and I were so insane by the end (and they didn't even have the decency to offer drinks while we waited), that she asked him if there might be some mistake, but does he realise the second rule of Fight Club is the same as the first?

One last thing - you could take photos with the author, but only if one of you held a veil and a bouquet. The Diva went through that once, thank you very much, so it was my turn apparently. Worst part of the evening, tho? Getting back to SF at 1am, having missed all the Cinco de Mayo celebrations across the city...Eh, at least I have a signed hamburger.

Friday - a rather inebriating dinner at a coworker's house (including my white shirt being bled on by his pet chihuahua), followed by dancing at the Endup. Met the hottest straight Irishman on earth, then his best friend (I think Busty would well like him, too). Then the hot boy set me up with a spunky primary elementary school teacher. Didn't realise the teacher was 46yo until 3pm the next day - he seriously looked like he was in his early thirties. Oops!

Friday, May 04, 2007

here i thought brothers and sisters was getting too much SD-6 action

WARNING: Spoilers ahead (this is for Lady M)

OK, so four days into SF and i've barely had a chance to experience this city. That said, I've caught up with a lot of TV watching, meaning I've gotten very confused with the shows that run however many weeks ahead here. For example:

  • Eva Longoria is engaged to the watersports senator from Sex and the City
  • Evil Francie from Alias is Madison from Grey's Anatomy's best friend
  • The bastard daughter in Brothers & Sisters is committing adultery with one of her half-brothers-in-law
  • OH, and I just watched Tyra Banks freak out at the sight of furry animals on her chat show - to the point where she knocked over half her set.
I forgot how weird this country is. Oh, and the one night I did go out:
  • I got serenaded by a wannabe opera singer. Cute, but not as cute as
  • The filmmaker I met in the smoking room of the bar
  • or the Dutch travellers and their pseudo-boyfriends at Badlands
More later...