After last night's little excursion and expirement in BWI, I woke up today feeling a little insecure. I mean, I was probably one of the oldest people at that club last night, I hadn't done cardio in about a week and was feeling a little wrinkly and flabby. That would explain why I stayed near a wall, sipping my drink all night instead of dancing to Danni Minogue along with everyone else (plus, it's Danni Minogue. To quote someone more famous and witty than I, "I don't want BLOODY DANNI MINOGUE!").

So, feeling a bit down on myself, I flip on VH1 Classic and there is Romeo Void's "Never Say Never". Any ounce of insecurity flew out the window once I saw lead singer Deborah Iyall rocking the fuck out.



Here is a woman who didn't fit the stereotypical norm of what a "female rock singer" should look like. She wasn't white, petite, slutty or trashy, but at the same time, she didn't neuter her sexuality at all, becoming very hot in the process. She got up there, did her shit hard, left you on the floor, then split before it got old.

That's what each of us should do tonight. Go out to your favorite bar, club, pub, dive, whatever, and wear what the fuck you want, laugh as loud as you want, talk to who you want, dance how you like and just ROCK. THE. FUCK. OUT.

I know I'm gonna.

Blogging While Intoxicated.

Apparently, it's the hip thing to do now. I've read several blogs in the past few days where the writer was blogging drunk (which is scary, since most of these postings were during WEEKDAYS - don't people work anymore?), so I have become inspired to do it myself.

Went to Boy Bar with "E" and "I", had a few Amaretto Sours, stood alone while E talked on his cell and "I" hooked up with some kid. No one dared approach me and I was even wearing my "friendly" clothes, a polo shirt and nice jeans. I'm a scurry sort, I suppose. At 36, I'm used to being the one to always having to make the move. No worries.

My head hurts, but I'm sure that has a lot to do my disposable contacts that I sleep in instead of taking out each night.

Tonight was the first night I have been to Boy Bar in about six months. The music did not change ONE BIT. The same tired songs they play every Friday night, month after month. Does anyone like Darude "Sandstorm" anymore? Really?

BWI is boring. DONE NOW.

I admit it. This show gets me every summer. I give up three hours of my week to spend it with Julie Chen, her bizarre body glitter and Silver Surfer spacesuit wardrobe, and a group of preening narcissists - and I love it. I AM COMING OUT OF THE BIG BROTHER CLOSET, DO YOU HEAR ME WORLD?

I needed a good two episodes to let this year's group soak in, and now I'm ready to break it on downnnnn:

• The half-sibling twist was interesting, but ultimately lame. At first, I thought the Jock Quad was a little insensitive for assuming it was a lie, then I remembered where they all were. The entire show is a construct, so they were actually smart in being suspicious. That is the last time I imagine calling this group "smart" for the remainder of the season.

• What does it mean when all the straight guys are more feminine in appearance than the women? And what the fuck is up with all those bandanas on the heads? Does anyone find that appealing?

• You are Head of Household. Big Brother reveals to you an LCD screen in your room capable of showing you what all the other roomates in the house are up to. Do you spy on the others in secret, finding out their true agendas and give yourself an edge in the game, or do you IMMEDIATELY GRAB PEOPLE YOU'VE KNOWN FOR TWO DAYS AND TELL THEM ALL ABOUT IT? That douche DESERVES to lose.

• Anyone see Scott's nude pics from the April 2004 issue of "Playgirl" yet? Seriously. All I can say is, "Pencil Dick Syndrome" is a real disease. Please give.

• I keep waiting for Nikomas to call upon the Dark Lord to aid her in vanquishing her foes.

• The houseguests need to read that fine print on Drew's forehead very carefully: "Object may be smarter than it appears." Look for him or his twin to betray the Jock Quad.

• Adria & Diane. Who? Exactly. Beware the faceless ones. They sneak up on you.

• Marvin may last a long time under that old "No one likes him, so I'm taking him to the end" strategy that always backfires.

• Wil. Will, Will, Will. Sigh. Hun, NO one is fooled. When you reveal your big "I'm gay!" shocker, don't be surprised when everyone in the house says, "Well, DUH." Me and my friends have been running around saying, "I'm gonna give them a dose of MY medicine!" all week. Snap! At least he's still butcher than Bunky.

• I LOVE HOLLY. LOVE HER. That's all I'm sayin'.

• If I was in the house this year? I would have told everyone I was gay and liberal, blah blah, then started a secret alliance with Mike, the GW Bush booster. No one would suspect a thing. Unfortunately, I wasn't there this year, so he's out next week. Unless the house pulls a Nikomas revolt and sends her away from her newfound sibling. But I doubt it.

• My pick to win? Either Drew or Lori. Both normal and likeable enough to not be threats, but smart enough to coast until the end.

Thanks for all the IMs and e-mails folks, but I know.

This is usually the part where I come up with a bunch of bad "heart" puns made from Bowie lyrics, but I can't do it. This is BOWIE.

Let's get all stupid and hippy dippy and send some positive energy towards our Thin White Duke. The wrong people are hurting. Check out the Drudge Report today and you'll see what I mean.

Self-loathing much, Matt? Someone out him already.

Strange Johnny Convergence Moment - #52 in a series

As an impossibly aggressive junior high school geek, I was obsessed with British sci-fi phenom Doctor Who, specifically the Tom Baker version, the "fourth Doctor", known for his wild curls, huge, toothy grin and long, flowing scarf (no comments).

I watched the show religiously (thanks WVIZ-TV!), read the paperback novelizations, collected the short lived Marvel Comic (when that issue of Marvel Premiere featuring Doctor Who hit the newsstand at Lawson's Dairy and Deli, I swear all of Grafton, Ohio must have heard my squeal of glee), and even had my mother buy a long scarf and floppy hat so I could play Doctor Who out in our huge, wooded backyard with my little sister Jennifer standing in for Sarah Jane Smith.

I even built my own K-9 unit out of wood, discarded TV antennae and silver spraypaint, impressing my step-father who had never seen me take any interest in woodshop projects before (or since).

Soon, I grew out of this obsession after being exposed to MTV in 1983, seeing Duran Duran, the Cure, Echo & The Bunnymen and later, the Smiths. Later, I discovered we got Doctor Who episodes years after they had aired in the UK, and Tom Baker had been replaced. All things Doctor Who passed away.

Flash forward to 2002 and I'm living in San Diego. One night, I'm eating at Ono Sushi in Hillcrest with a friend and I spot someone I recognized as a great character actor from several movies, including one I adored, "L.A. Story" with Steve Martin -- I just couldn't place the name with the face. It was killing me. British Character Actor Guy was eating with a male friend of his, laughing, talking and looking totally approachable. But what to say? "Hey there....GUY. I loved you in that movie you did! Ummm...wassernameagain?" Naw, I decided, let the poor guy suck on his raw fish in peace.

A year later, I'm surfing the web at work and stumble across a news story that a "new Doctor Who has been chosen". A familiar smile of nostalgia crosses my lips and I click the link to see who got the job.

Richard E. Grant. British Character Actor Guy.

Crap! My chance to meet Doctor Who and I passed! Inside me, the geek from Grafton, Ohio who weighed 120 pounds soaking wet was beating the holy fuck out of my 170 pound 2003 version.

Of course, Grant was only the Doctor for one "internet only" animated version. This year, the BBC announced a new series of Doctor Who episodes will begin in 2005, with "Queer As Folk" creator Russell T. Davies serving as Executive Producer and general creative force. The new Doctor will be played by Christopher Eccleston, a regular on UK television.

If I see him at Ono Sushi, I'm buying his meal. Promise.

Note: Yeah, I know I've been slacking lately and this post is more or less a stop-gap, but work has finally slowed a bit, so I'll be updating a little more often. Thanks for your indulgence.