The Trouble with Brett Easton Ellis

I want to like Brett Easton Ellis. Finally, somebody has the decency to come forward and be like..."know what...gays were cooler when we were all in the closet". I do agree with him that today's portrayal is absolutely stomach turning. If I were a teenage today, there is no way I would come out of the closet. It has nothing to do with the shame involved of bedding another dude. It's that I don't want to be associated with the modern image of being a homo.

But anyway...first up; Brett's got some major gayface going on.  He's one of those dudes that pings the gaydar even in photos. If he wants to distance himself from being associated with contemporary gay media, he should be one of those authors who hides behind sketches or be nothing more than just a name. (I have no idea what Judy Blume ever looked like.)

Second...he needs to stop engaging in the same kind of attention seeking tactics that douchey homos do. Every time something gay trends in social media you can count on his predictable ass to disagree with the general consensus. Like "agreeing" with Paris Hilton that most Grindr users have Aids. Though I didn't completely disagree with her either. But it's like, ok dude, we get it. Relentlessly bashing people over the head with your agenda (like this blog) is a such a faggy thing to do.

Third...even he should know by now that graphic sex scenes and drug use are a total snooze when used for shock value. Lindsay Lohan getting it on with a porn star would have been "racy" a long ass time ago. Now, it's like having an annoying teenager within earshot loudly bragging to you about his drug consumption. (Which thanks to him...was me, when I was 18)

Nonetheless...Less Than Zero, the Rules of Attraction, American Psycho...I'm never going to say anything that profoundly bad about him.

So I'm reading about Anderson Cooper and the drama of his little fruitcake photographed kissing another dude. And of course the gnarly fudgepackers who blindly support each and every thing that anybody gay does are coming to his defense that they have an "open relationship". It's not that I really think anything notes being defended.

 But you want to know what an open relationship is....? A pair of fuck buddies with codependency issues. It's two weak minded people who need the security of having a significant other, without any of the sacrifice involved. It's like working out without lifting anything, you can go to the gym every day, sit on a bench and text. You'd still be one of those people who hits the gym 5 days a week.

I've only been in love once only. I knew because at the time I didn't want to be with anyone else. The thought never crossed my mind for 2 years. Unfortunately for me, we were never exclusive to begin with. I hated hooking up with other people; I always wished it were him. The reason why I don't really have boyfriends, other than the fact that I am a self-absorbed insufferable dick, is because I am not down for a needy homo laying claim to me because he thinks it's better than being "alone". They are also quite popular in the gay community. Why...? Because it gives fags a reason to look down on each other. 

I had a friend who was fat and ugly. He had a boyfriend who I personally thought was too good for his pitiful ass (seriously his face was covered in acne and he had a shrill lady voice). One night at dinner he drinks too much and confesses that he doesn't find his boyfriend attractive. Then 20 minutes later plays the "I have a man" card as a means by which to insult me for being perpetually single. Whatever it takes to get you through the night princess. I'd rather wake up with my dick in my hand every morning for the rest of my life than next to some annoying needy pansy I'm not even into.

 I don't think all people were cut out for monogamy, and I don't think there is anything wrong with having multiple partners. But the people who do actually make the commitment to it, I do respect in some right. The ones that actually find it fulfilling and genuinely do not cheat and never wanted to.  As a human being it's the kind of happiness I would wish on anyone. I'm not down for relationships of convenience of any nature. If I'm using you for sex, I will have the decency to let you know you are being used for sex. And the last thing you will catch me doing is parading my "boyfriend" around like a showpiece when I don't even respect him enough to be faithful.

So..when you watch Party Monster, they take the liberty of several talk show appearances combined into one. Each year, every show would feature them. It'd be interesting to watch them all back to back. You could witness the demise.

In 1993 the Geraldo producers decided to pick one final panelist the morning of the show, with little knowledge of who they were and how they fit into the scene. Prior to then, Michael Alig more or less hand picked the panel. Even though he had his favorites, he wasn't an idiot and did pick an assorted bunch to ensure his empire looked cool on TV. Geraldo's crew being total idiots, ended up picking this stumpy fat Parsons freshman who went by the name Princess Botanikle (I believe that was the proper misspelling.)

She really was a gnarly troll. She had only gone out maybe 3 times. The show usually taped in October, and she was one of the newbies that had arrived that fall. At the time we thought she may have even made up her name on the spot. None of us had ever recalled having a Princess Botanikle on a guest list. Club kids came in all different sizes. Some found themselves so gorgeous they'd have everything on display. Some were insecure nerds who covered up every square inch of their body and reinvented themselves as something else. This would be her. She was your classic art geek. Short, fat, horrific frizzy hair; her "outfits" were all bulky costumes that hid who she was. I think she even wore glasses. In retrospect, I think the producers knew she was a wannabe and put her up there hoping some mean girls type drama would transpire. It didn't. She didn't say very much.

The entire scene let out a collective heave when they learned that she had been picked. I didn't go to the taping. I was on the 1992 one. You have to be up at the crack of dawn and every one and their mother shows up dressed as ridiculously as possible to become the next Princess Botanikle. By the following year I was having none of it, including her. To be quite honest it was people like her, that waned me off the "scene". It was not nearly as cool as nostalgia will have you think. Though it was an "escape" from conventional society, it was very much like conventional high school. There were the "popular" kids, and there were geeks. That morning when Botanikle woke up...she was a geek.

Nonetheless, she was about to have her "moment". The week the show aired her name went on the Disco 2000 flyer. This unofficially meant she was now "somebody". Being somebody didn't magically make her attractive, so she like most ugly club people put up the facade of a lot of attitude. This didn't win her any brownie points. Michael had a sick sense of humor; he might have found it all entertaining.

I never knew her, she always kissed my ass because by the time she was on the scene, I was working a "VIP" rope. In her eyes I was somebody "important". I thought she was awful though, she and her ugly friends.

The party I worked at was called "Queen". It was Wednesday nights on the main stage at Webster Hall. My friend Chris and I worked velvet ropes on both sides at the foot of the stairs leading up to the it. They was a runway down the middle. Once enough alcohol was consumed all kinds of shenanigans happened up there. I thought it would never work. I was wrong, I worked there for close to 2 years. (I'll elaborate further about said party later.)

Chris and I hated everyone, the "Botanikle Beast" was one of our favorite inside jokes. After Disco 2000 got sick of her, my idiot promoter put her on the payroll. Our job was pretty awesome though, they all made idiots of themselves up there, and we got to stand there and mock them, in clear view of everyone.

On Thanksgiving Eve, I believe it was 1994. Botanikal showed up in one of her usual bulky ridiculous ensembles. In lieu of traditional platforms, moron used electrical tape to attached extra large coffee cans to her stumpy little calves. She then painted them. I do recall her execution not being super horrible. Though you could tell it was tape and coffee cans, and I hated that. You could also tell she thought this was one of her better looks...which makes what happens next all that more joyous.

She takes her first few steps out on the runway and SPLAT!!!... nasty face plant; The fall in and of itself was pure gold. I could rewind and watch it over and over. But that was just the beginning. Because of her weight the coffee cans bend badly when she attempts to get up so she can't move. These were the Costco sized ones and she was a rather small girl. Her limbs are too stumpy for her to do much of anything. She's laying there in the middle of the runway like a wounded walrus. It's hella awkward. The ENTIRE club is staring at her. It's so above and beyond your ordinary fall.

Chris and I laugh hysterically. We LIVED for this sort of thing. Especially when it happened to people like her. When pressed most of the party goers would try to tell you that it was "all in fun". The hell it was, those losers took that runway shit seriously. They felt they deserved the attention and fought each other for it. People fell down all the time, but she wasn't drunk yet, and there was no way to play this off as "fierce". It was like she got up there and demonstrated to the entire club scene why she sucked, and how stupid it had all become.

From what I understand she fails out of Parsons and out of New York. I do recall her disappearing suddenly. Nonetheless, my rumored demise was an alleged heroin "addiction" which was actually my rommate, but guilt by association. I really just enroll in SVA and get a job...but I'm cool with people thinking I ended up a druggie.

You weren't born this way, you annoying fudgepacker...

A few weeks ago I posted a comment in support of Cynthia Nixon when she said she chose to be gay. Of course a bunch of gnarly homos got up in my ass telling me how wrong I was. They didn't know I was gay, they thought I was a conservative. Radical gays jump to conclusions, if you don't agree with them, you aren't one of them. I may as well been Michelle Bachmann.

I've addressed this topic before, if you scroll down you can see a softer take on this issue. It's bunch of blather...you are about to read how I really feel about it.

You were not born gay, you were not born straight. Every time you make a decision regarding sex, you are making a choice. You can have sex or not. You do not spontaneously find yourself having sex because you are prewired to do it. Who you have sex with is part of that decision. If you were a disciplined human being you could go through life without ever having sex at all. Do I think there is anything to gain by this...? Hell no.

If you are having sex with man, you are doing so because you chose to have sex with a man. If you wish to spend the rest of your life "married" to a man, you again are choosing a path.

Some people have impulses and act on them, other would rather suppress it. But it's a decision to do either. It's not fair for you to say a person needs to go out and fuck a dude because they pop a boner during a men's underwear ad a few times.

Since I'm not in favor of the government having any say in the matter..obviously I am not in favor of any law barring two dudes from getting married, committing sodomy, driving with panties on or anything of that nature.

But get a fucking grip homos...stop claiming god made you gay cause you want to have something in common with the conservatives. Defend your decision to suck, and be proud of your choice to take it up the ass. The gay gene was never found so you sound just like people who cite "god" as their source when they cherry pick the bible.

So Mark Ronson and I go way back. Like so far back I kind of forgot who he was until he became famous and even then it took me a while to put 2 and 2 together. We're the same age and both starting clubbing around the same time. He was an aspiring DJ then, and he was cute. really cute. Honestly I never would have guessed that he was filthy rich. Anyway, his Dad, well stepdad, is Mick Jones, from Foreigner not the Clash. That was how we started talking. My first words to him were "You're Dad is Mick Joooones...?"

But anyway, he and my friend Richard were kinda chummy and that's usually how I'd run into him. He was cool though. Because he was a hot guy I usually behaved like a drunken idiot around him, but he found me very amusing. I don't think I even knew his name at the time, I referred to him as Mick Jones' son.

However, I do have a pretty interesting story. I know he's a married man now and all; so let's bear in mind this was a loooooooong time ago. It has absolutely no bearing on what he's got going on today. And let me add he's a freakin musical genius, had I only known.

But; around 94 my roomate was a call girl. She was my best friend from high school so I knew her well. There was no need to doubt her credibility. One morning; I was just getting home from Tunnel. She gets in from her call and asks if I know a Mark Ronson. There was also a brother I believe. The 2 of them and 3rd guy were her 5 am call. They must have been pretty young then, I was only 19 and his birthday is after mine. Anyway, the escort service she worked for forbid her from arriving to a call with multiple dudes without knowing ahead of time. But since they were 3 rich teenagers she was cool with it and kept it between them and well...me. They lived in the Dakota building. (Google it, it's some famous John Lennon shit.)

Nothing particularly scandalous went down; she did have sex with all 3 of them, but individually. I envision the whole thing to have gone down like the hooker scene in The Last American Virgin. Anyway, it's pretty interesting to see where he's at now. I remember when he was the $50 substitute DJ.

This Wasn't Supposed to Happen...!

So my Bjork stories are really good. They date all the way back to my earliest days in New York; I hadn't even graduated from high school yet. The Sugarcubes were still together. I was on and off with them; but Stick Around for Joy was such a good album, so we were once again on. Seriously..is Hit not one of the best songs ever recorded...?

Anyway, we loved Bjork, she'd never and looked nor sounded better. She was also the cover model on the newest issue of Project X. So she was right up there with Lady Miss Kier and Linda Evangelista in terms of fierce chicks of 1992. We freakin loved her and the mini bun hairstyle she was rocking during that time period.

That Good Friday, as in the Catholic holiday, some friends and I schlepped out to Limelight. I don't remember specifically what I wore, only that it was black and I didn't think it was one of my better outfits. I remembered being a little annoyed because this New York clubbing excursion had grown pretty large. 4 was my maximum. Me, Colleen, Linda and Jill. But anyway, it was vacation, and my friends waned a dose of legendary New York fabulousness; and who better to lead them to it...?

I do recall being preoccupied with something, I really cannot tell you the specifics beyond that. Honestly, I have no idea what I did that evening. Bjork however had been in attendance and everybody was talking about it. Details magazine were also there taking pictures. They'd surface in the magazine a few months later. For a night out there was a lot going on.

For me it had been a tame one, I was maybe 6 weeks into the whole club kid thing and had recently done my first couple club hops. My nights were all about quantity. Only hitting one club was rather boring. But whatever, Bjork was there and I think a new Deee-Lite song debuted that night. Some people from high school were there to witness all this coolness. Rumors about me clubbing with Bjork and being photographed for Details were going to run rampant and I was going to make no effort to tell people. If I recall correctly I was preoccupied because I had a crush on Keoki, and I couldn't find him. He was hanging out with Bjork.

Nonetheless I did not see Bjork that evening...we were saving it for later. The details of her night out exist in this issue of Project X. The other cool thing was that my friends all saw her. Like I said, who better to lead them to excitement. The town we grew up in was freakin dullsville.

So a few months later I made the big move to NYC...it was very shortly (as in 15 minutes) after high school graduation. My landing point was a Pratt dorm in Brooklyn. I was hell bent, I would have walked through Bushwick in a tutu and silver platforms to Limelight, and likely could have pulled it off.

Anyway, my first saturday night I go to the movies with my friend Ron and his girlfriend. We went to see Cool World with their friend from Los Angeles. Little Kenny, or was it Lil Keni. Lil Keni sounds cooler so we will go with that. Keni lived in Brooklyn too so we head back together.

We traded stories of our history. One of his was about his "Icelandic pop star friend...Bjork". Seriously, I believe this sentence was. I have this friend Bjork she's an Icelandic pop star. In 1992 she dated a DJ named Doc Martin who pretty well known on the west coast. Keni and he were friends and that was how he knew Bjork. They really were friends though, there was validity to his name dropping. They were actual friends; like she stayed at his house when she came to New York.

Fast forward to Fall 1992 and the Sugarcubes released It's It, which is to be their last album. It's the "remix" album. It was one of the few CD's that I actually made a point to go buy. Anyway they were playing Limelight the night it came out. There was also a "rave" party...though using that term was profoundly uncool. It was called "Shhh", you paid $10 and were given a key; the location was to be announced at 8 o clock that night.

That was "the" party everyone was going, but I was no fool. I wanted to go to Sugarcubes. Keni would be there and would bring me backstage. That is more or less how it went down. I spent the hour or so before the show with them back stage. They were all there. I remember finding Einer extremely sexy in person. Bjork is a total doll. Seriously she's freakin tiny in person. I was 6 foot 6 in my platforms. She came over to me right away, introduced herself and starting talking to me like we've known each other forever.

We drink with them, until it's time for the concert. Bjork is really amazing; like the way her voice fills a space and what she does with it. I love the concert, To this day I'm really stoked that I caught the Sugarcubes before they broke up. After it's over, we head back to the dressing room again. I rather specifically remember running up to Bjork and being like "Oh My God...you were AMAZING!!!" and her being all..."Thank You!" and hugging me. Totally surreal, like we were pals that night.

By now it's close to 3 am, so we all make our way over to Shhh, which was somewhere down on the Lower East Side. Since there were 6 Sugarcubes, they end up needing multiple taxis, so my friend Johnna and I end up in one with Siggy. We follow the one with Keni and Bjork. Siggy was fun, if I remember correctly he had swiped one of the bottles of Absolut from their dressing room. I remember all of them being very heavy drinkers...and really fun drinkers.

I don't hang out with Bjork too much at the party. I don't recall staying very long either. I already had my story for the night.

Fast forward to early spring 1993. Sugarcubes were now broken up and Bjork as a solo artist is all the buzz in music. It's a lazy summer afternoon and I end up meeting up with doorman extraordinaire Kenny Kenny and Astro Earl. I think we all happen upon each other trying to pick up raver boys in Washington Square Park. It turns into your quintessential New York afternoon, we hit up Dojo's for dinner. Afterwards, we stop by Patricia Field to visit Lil Keni. It's around 8 pm and they had just closed the store.

We get inside and there's Bjork sitting on the floor with a few envelopes from a film developing place. She had just come from some big music extravaganza in the desert somewhere. She was really enthralled with a performer named El Vez and had taken several photos with him. When we walk in, she comes running over to show us. Bjork was staying at Keni's that night and they were headed to The Grand later. The Grand is a space on 13th and Broadway, it was also called the Key Club later, and is best know as "Spa" which was a hotspot around the turn of the millenium.

Back then Thursday nights were hosted by Lee Chapel, the opening night was good but the party headed downhill fast. I would usually stop in. Tonight it would certainly be on the agenda. I had a friend who wasn't so underhanded with his social climbing and told him Bjork's plans for the evening and he was all over it. As luck would have we roll up to the club at the exact same time that Keni & Bjork's cab. They're also with Cheyenne; a Limelight doorgirl. It's all very civil and social and yay! we're part of Bjork's growing "entourage".

In a club environment they all flock to her. But before that happens Bjork comes over to me and asks me to help her remove the wrapper from her a lollipop she had acquired. I do, and she's flanked by trendy homos immediately. I exit the scene and a girl comes up to me and as all...."oh my god was that Bjork you were just talking to"? and I'm all..."Yeah".

About a year and half later, my roomate is in a lingerie shop called Lee Baumann on 8th st. It was the day of the MTV VMA's. Bjork is in there buying tights. The staff were all older jewish women and had absolutely no idea who she was. They had asked about her evening and wished her luck as she was nominated in some category. The last time I ever saw her in person was shortly after that. This time it was near Astor Place, she was walking was some rather tall gay dude.

Life in New York was random like that. There were certain people you'd see fairly often, and some you never saw at all. Fortunately I saw Bjork a bunch of times.

Does Narcissism Make You a Homo..?

I'm a bit of a narcissist; I'm also a bit of a homo. If I could have sex with myself I likely would, but not in the incestral sense. I just like to find myself attractive and know that other people think I'm hot too. But I have no problem admitting to all of this. (Nor sharing this information about me with a million strangers.) But anyway, I'm only sharing this to note that I know what I'm talking about when I discuss narcissism.

Check of this pic of Weiner and his wife that ran in the post yesterday.

I'm sorry but...what a homo...!

Weiner's been pinging my gaydar since the beginning of this scandal. Spare me the anti-stereotyping decrees; and put yourself in a judgmental place and agree with me that he looks like a big flipping mo.

Self-nudes, sexting, naughty email exchange; it's all a fairly new way of communicating. Much of the over 40 generation can't really wrap their head around it, to them it's full on reprehensible, only a person with no morals does that. I can't help but wonder if that makes it a taboo for some and instantly makes it a turn on for some.

I had a friend who did adult movies and stripped. He had a girlfriend, but she would get neglected for him to go frolic with generous gay men. That's what really pulled his strings. It's obvious because that's what he would choose to do. Granted there was a financial motivation; but I knew him, he got off on getting paid. It filled a void in him, much like it did for Weiner to hear that young 20 something thought he was hot.

Not that Weiner is a total fudgepacker, but he's got no problem critiquing male beauty, namely his own. I wonder where that falls on the kinsey scale.