...here she is on Danish TV in 1982, performing her hit "I Know There's Something Going On" with frosted purple hair, wearing an orange trash bag with orange leggings. Best part: her little interpretive dance during the guitar solo at 3:00 that suddenly ends the minute the solo does.

Labels: funny, gay, video of the moment

Phagz on 45, Episode Six:



MP3s at Popdose!

Labels: funny, gay, Phagz on 45, video of the moment

Phagz on 45, Episode Five:



Like whatcha hear? Why not mosey over to Popdose and grab the MP3s?

Labels: gay, Phagz on 45, video of the moment

It's up and rarin' to go!



As always, MP3s at Popdose!

Labels: gay, Phagz on 45, video of the moment

As always, MP3s of the songs featured can be found at Popdose.

Labels: gay, Phagz on 45, video of the moment

A rare video featuring the opening theme to the extremely short-lived, extremely GAY Saturday morning kids show starring Charles Nelson Reilly and Jonathan "Dr. Smith" Harris - together! On one stage! - that lasted a mere six months in 1975.



Yes, Harris's character was named Basil Bitterbottom.

Basil.

Bitter.

BOTTOM.

Labels: funny, gay, video of the moment

From this week's listings:

Julian is unable to sleep, forever haunted by the loss of his penis. Vincent is stunned when his water breaks, and he goes into labor!

I mean, there it is, people.

Labels: funny, gay, Passions

Danny Noriega eliminated from Idol!

I AM CRUSHED!

It's all just TMTH!!

Hopefully Logo or Here! will snatch his snatch up to host something or other. Camp, camp, camp!

Labels: american idol, bottom, gay

...but I can't help loving the super sass that is Danny Noriega on American Idol! He's hysterical, super campy and completely at ease in his own skin. Call him femmy, über-faboo or stereotypical, but we all know/knew kids like him in high school and he just seems...real. Try to ignore Denise Richards in the clip:



He doesn't stand a prayer of even coming close to winning, but hey, he's just 17. And I love his Simon taunting and the subtle way he calls out that queen Ryan at the end. Go on wit'cher bad self, Danny.

Labels: american idol, gay

Gay? Here's what gay porn "star" Erik Rhodes thinks of you (original spelling intact):

Part of the problem that i have with Gay men regardless if they are a Gay forrest Ranger, science teacher or coach for retards, it is that you can still never trust them. Yeah your brother my lead a very noble lifestyle and everyone he comes in contact see's a great act but behind close door or later that night he turns into a pervert that has fucked everyone at his gay local bar. Your gay science teacher hires hookers on a regular basis and has HIV and yet won't tell his life partner and the Gay retard coach is a size queen that attends regular SM party's where he gets tied up and has cloths pins cliped to his cock and balls.

Being that i have worked as an escort for much of my gay life i have seen what men do, and who they are and have come to the conclusion that regardless of the great life they lead infront of everyone, they all have so many skeleton in their closest that it could make you sick if you only thought of all the shit any of your ex's have done behind your back that you will never know about. That the truth regardless of what you wanna tell yourself.

So fuck the fact that some queer has a good job, it doesnt mean that they are not truely fucked up and perverted in there head and you just dont know about it.

Sad, sad, sad. Seeing as how I've yet to do porn, ingest any number of random chemicals, live in the gay bar ghetto, fuck D-list "reality stars," or be an escort slash whore, I don't think Mr. Rhodes needs to be wagging any fingers at anyone. Remember, when you point the "Gays Are Awful!" finger, three others are pointing right back up your butt.

Labels: blog rage du jour, bottom, gay, moaning, porn, starfucker, stupid twats

• Thank you, Jocko, for totally calling out the Mika CD as one of the worst music releases of 2007. As I commented there, I have a theory the only people who truly enjoy this preening, screeching, over-hyped mess are straight women who consider themselves "fag hags" and constantly try to foist this steaming, oaty pile on their gay "friends". Quick rule of thumb: If Perez Hilton raves about it, it's cloying shit. See also, The Gossip.

• Spotted this morning at my local $tarbuck$ - Homeless Man With Crutches On a Laptop!



That sure doesn't look like Monster.com to me, mister! Also, you can't see it too well from the pic, but resting on his little grocery cart is the original HP box it came in when he stole it from the Wal*Mart across the street.

• I love Ringo. See Lost In The '80s later today now for proof.

• Shopping for Christmas gifts at Sears is entirely acceptable in this mortgage meltdown economic environment, despite what your own personal Baby Chutney may tell you. Wal*Mart, however, no.

Labels: baby chutney, blog rage du jour, gay

In a major case of deja vu, DirecTV announced this week it would not be renewing super-campy soap Passions for another season. The show goes on an extended holiday hiatus, but returns in February and will wrap up in August.

But another suitor may help the show dodge oblivion yet again (it was originally cancelled by NBC earlier this year) - NBC, who still owns and produces the show, may place it on their newly-acquired Oxygen Network. Since I never took the DirecTV plunge and have been watching the show occasionally at a friend's house (P.S. Nothing has happened. Nothing.), this is potentially good news.

We can all get our Tabby, Norma and Edna fix again!

Labels: camp, gay, Passions

Johnny, age 9, Christmas 1977:



• Portable cassette recorder (the iPod of its day!) to record new hit songs off the radio - CHECK

• Captain America jammies - CHECK

• Six Million Dollar Man action figure in box to right (removeable bionic pieces to be quickly lost) to fuel childhood Lee Majors obsession - CHECK

• Stack of 8-tracks nestled in carousel near hi-fi - CHECK

• Randomly placed alarm clock on stereo counter - CHECK

Things would never be the same.

Thanks to sister Jen for the pic!

Labels: Captain America, family, funny, gay, ohio

One of my best friends Rob would do just about anything for a friend. He's fiercely loyal, a good listener, always there when you need a lift to the airport or drinking buddy. He's a great guy.

He's also a huge dick.

Let me explain. While Rob has an obviously sweet side, he also has an equally large malicious streak. Without thinking, he'll sometimes focus on a flaw you have, such as a forehead zit or weight gain and tease you mercilessly about it. I don't think he believes he's being mean, but his barbed tongue can slice and dice a man into a thousand pieces. It's only when those pieces tumble to the floor does Rob notice he may have spoken out of turn. An example:

I once told Rob a story about the worst online date I ever had. It was around 1997, and I was still living in Lakewood, Ohio, sick of the same old gay bars filled with the same old gay men, single bordering on desperate as Summer approached and Spring left me bereft of booty. I had taken to spending more and more time in the then-new AOL gay chat rooms, specifically Cleveland M4M (ah, mem'ries). One evening, I received an IM from a guy named Mike who lived in Columbus. Virtual sparks flew, pics were exchanged and a mutual attraction was confirmed. Mike happened to be built like a brick shithouse, which never hurts. I soon found myself making plans to drive down two and a half hours to Columbus to spend the next weekend with him.

Saturday morning came and I made the trip in record time. As I pulled up to Mike's home, he greeted me warmly and I think we both breathed a sigh of relief as we both matched our pictures with no horns or other disfiguring items showing in the harsh light of reality. We went inside and...had a nice cup of coffee. Honest. We sat in his kitchen talking and drinking joe for about an hour or so. It started off pleasantly enough, but the more he talked about his life, the more uneasy I felt.

Mike spent an inordinate amount of time talking about his ex-boyfriend, who was apparently a real piece of work. According to Mike, the ex was a roided out musclehead (not entirely dissimilar to himself) with a mean temper. They fought constantly, and when the verbal sparring didn't resolve anything, they resorted to basically beating the shit out of each other. And not your basic, run-of-the-mill bitchslap fests, either - Mike raised his left tricep to reveal a long, nasty scar that ran nearly the entire length under his upper arm. That was from the time his ex grabbed a kitchen knife and stabbed him.

I can only imagine the look on my face at this point. But good ol' Mike wasn't finished with me yet. I asked whatever happened to the ex...is he in jail, did you get a restraining order, what? Oh no, Mike explained. The ex kindly drove him to the emergency room and no charges were filed (I wonder how they explained or got out of that one). "In fact," Mike said brightly, "we're still good friends!"

Oh. Mah. Gawd.

Then Mike dropped the real bombshell. We had planned on going to dinner at a local gay sports pub and guess who would be joining us? That's right, Stabby McJealousEx.

This was a disaster. My mind raced...what to do? I had just driven nearly three hours to meet this guy, so I wasn't exactly relishing the prospect of immediately turning around and heading home, although that's exactly what I should have done. Besides...Mike was hot! My dick was doing all the thinking. Ah, youth. What harm could it be to go to dinner with these two? If nothing else, I'd get a great anecdote out of the experience.

Not more than 30 minutes after this announcement, who shows up at the house but Stabby. I guess this was going to be one early dinner! Mike ushered Stabby into the kitchen to meet me. Stabby towered over me at a good six feet, around 250 pounds of juiced up homicide. I immediately began planning escape routes. Stabby smiled as he shook my hand but it was barely over a glower that couldn't be hidden. This was not going to end well. When we walked up to Mike's car and Stabby tilted the passenger's side seat up so I could climb into the back, that was pretty much all the hint I needed.

Lunch was a tense affair, as I sat and listened to Mike and Stabby catch up, then argue. Then argue some more. Bite of food, argue. Sip of cola, snipe. Chat about working out, followed by a bite of sandwich, then another argument. I sat silent, just watching the freak show. The pub was nice, though!

Mike drove us back to his house and as we got out of the car, Stabby asked what we were doing tonight. Before I had a chance to say, "GETTING THE FUCK OUT OF COLUMBUS" and sprint to my car, Mike answered, "Oh, we're going out to the bars tonight! You should come!"

Are you fucking kidding me?

Stabby said "sure", then drove off as Mike walked back into the house. I stood right where I was until he noticed I wasn't moving. "Coming inside?" he asked innocently.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I let loose, telling Mike that he and his ex obviously had some issues to work out before either of them was ready to date any one else. I also didn't appreciate being relegated to third wheel status only an hour after arriving. If Mike wasn't into me, just be honest and tell me so I can go home - he didn't need to summon his ex over to run interference. I'm a big boy, I told him, I can take it.

"No, no, no, that's not it at all," Mike pleaded. "I really like you, it's just that Stabby and I are really good friends, so I value his opinion. I wanted him to meet you, too."

"Well, I think I'm gonna go. This is all a little too strange for me," I said as I stepped inside to retrieve my overnight bag. As I walked in, Mike closed the front door behind him and stood there, blocking it. I didn't notice at first, as I was intent on grabbing my shit and hauling ass back to Cleveland. As I turned to leave with my bag, there stood Mike, covering the only exit in sight. I steeled myself for a confrontation. Mike breathed a huge breath, looked me in the eye...

...and began sobbing uncontrollably.

I mean, huge, heaving, breath-stealing sobs. Gasping for air, ohmigod, this guy is gonna fucking die on me and I'm gonna go to jail for no reason sobs. This 30+ year old man was absolutely inconsolable. I stood there with no clue of what to do. I finally asked him what the problem was.

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAAAAAAAAAAAVE!" Sob, sob, choke, sob.

I apologized, but said I really think it was for the best if I went home. He nodded, sobbing all the while and opened the door for me. He stood on his porch, tears still streaming down his face as I started my engine and almost peeled out in my haste to leave. I did not look back.

Fast-forward five years later. I'd been living in San Diego for about a year and had become fast friends with Rob. Rob and I spent many hours telling each other our gay dating horror stories and one of his favorites was the story of Mike and Stabby. He must have made me tell him and his friends that story a hundred times. Now, Rob is a friendly guy, always introducing me to new people, fresh meat in town, what have you. One day he introduces me to a guy who just moved to San Diego and I politely say "hello".

"Oh, we've met before," the new guy says.

"Really? Where? I'm sorry I don't recall."

"Oh, it was very briefly, no worries." Fine, no worries, then! I didn't think anything of it.

A week later, Rob and his new friend want to meet me out at our favorite watering hole, Numbers. Hey, it's Friday, why not? We meet at the bar and talk about our favorite subject, men. And as he always ended up doing with his new friends, Rob asked me to tell his new friend my Mike & Stabby horror story. I'm a ham, so sure. I tell the whole sordid tale, punctuating the sobs with gusto, imitating Stabby's psychotic stare, regaling how they were both out of their goddamn fucking gourds. Rob is almost crying with laughter, but his new friend is slightly less than amused. Thick me, I think he's just a tough audience.

Rob takes a minute to catch his breath from laughing and with an evil glint in his eye asks me, "So, where did you say this guy stabbed the Mike guy again?"

"On his left tri.."

As I was speaking, Rob lifted up the new guy's left arm to reveal a familiar scar running along the tricep.

"...cep."

The "new" guy let Rob hold his scarred arm up in this position until the wave of recognition finally washed over my face, leaving me slack-jawed and speechless.

"Good to see you again," Mike deadpanned.

And that is why my friend Rob is a dick.

Labels: funny, gay, ohio

I'm all for meeting new people. Honest. I'm not a total hermit ogre. But I have to admit, a good number of new people I meet are total assholes.

Allow me to explain, dear reader, before you accuse me of being the problem. I mean, I'm pretty much fucking perfect, as you're well aware. I meant to say "a good number of new people I meet IN LOS ANGELES are total assholes.

Example: Baby Chutney and I attend a fabulously gay pool party in the Valley for the Fourth. The host, his partner and several of his friends are as nice and friendly as can be. But as you know, when it comes to a gathering of homos, there must always be one fly in the Elbow Grease®. Said idiot in this case would be the Anger Twink who arrived about 90 minutes late (alone...imagine!), took off his shirt to reveal a decent chest complete with festering red razor burn (ew.), and proceeded to take a steaming, oaty, leafy dump on anything anyone said the rest of the party.

Sample dialogue (all 100% true and Chut-Chut Verifiable) - I'm talking to another guest about our Tivo addictions and how excited we are about Big Brother 8 premiering tonight.

ANGER TWINK (interrupting): I don't watch television AT ALL. I just don't like anything it has to offer. I can't understand how anyone could watch anything on it.

Silence.

Not ten minutes later, I'm in the kitchen grabbing an ear of sweet corn (and no, I did not repeat my father's jokes below - decorum, people!). Anger Twink enters behind me and grabs a hamburger (no bun, she's on Atkins!). I figure, what the hell, I'll try again.

ME: This sweet corn is excellent.

ANGER TWINK (immediately, like she was rehearsing this line for minutes beforehand in case it came up): Corn is, like, my most hated thing in the world. Seriously.

ME: Oh. Take THAT, Osama! You've been replaced!

ANGER TWINK: (blank stare) What?

So, to sum up, LA twinks are awful and Chut Chut, please never make me go out into that world alone ever again.

In other news, here's today's MOST AWESOME YOUTUBE THING EVER. Make sure you at least give the queen a chance to make her über-dramatic entrance at :25 seconds in before you close it:



Move over, Dramatic Chipmunk! There's something queerer!

Labels: anger twinks, blog rage du jour, gay

Scottsdale, my birthday week, a ritzy spa, me & Baby Chutney. BEGIN IMAGES!

Labels: gay, vacation

The plucky, campy little soap that refuses to die has dodged the cancellation bullet once more. NBC announced today that "Passions" will continue for a 9th season, albeit with a move to DirecTV's original channel line-up. A few of the conditions attached to the move are budgetary - the show will be cut down to four hours per week (a good move, trust me) and the budget will be slashed yet again.

I suppose this means some characters will be cut and Tabitha will be reduced to casting one spell per sweeps period.

While the Variety article has some "if" and "still to be confirmed" language, I have some insider info that says this is a done deal, signed, sealed & delivered. Will this convince some (like me) to convert to DirecTV or will the show still be streamed online? We'll find out, I suppose.

As far as this dusty old blog goes, I have to apologize for the lack of posts lately. I've been a little swamped, plus very happy with Baby Chutney - combine those with a bit of writer's block and you end up with little dribs and drabs. I believe I'm back now, so let's see if we can't get something up here at least every other day, 'mmkay?

Labels: baby chutney, gay, Passions

A little bit of background for those new to this scandal...

Labels: blog rage du jour, gay

How could I do an entire post about how gay-positive Howard is and not mention show announcer George Takei even once?

Sigh.

Labels: duh, gay, howard stern

Lauren Bacall in the Broadway show Applause, based on All About Eve...Margot Channing takes Eve to a gay disco!

In 1973.

On TV.

Really.

Labels: camp, gay, lauren bacall