YOU COULD USE ME

Genet finally does something he has wanted to do for eons... even pre-dating Stonehenge... and in his excitement, cannot shut up. Indulge him

2007-03-11T04:07:00.000-04:00

Yes. Watershed moment in my life. I bought a loft in Leslieville (Queen + Carlaw, to be exact). Construction has yet to begin which will allow me introduce the idea to Yoda (my mother), sell our current home and find her a cozy condo while I comfortably create my soon-to-be space. Part of me feels like the stereotypical gentrifying guppie, but that concept nauseates me. Instead, I'd like to think that I have decided on a neigbourhood that is multi-faceted, evolving, generally left-leaning and which combines the vitality of downtown while avoiding (a) the neuroses that the S&M (Scarborough and Mississauga) crowd transform parts of the west-end into a hetero-testosterone fuelled obnoxious disaster and (b) dilutes the pretentious posturing of Queen W über-hipsters. Mind you, I love the west-end, but I really am too lazy to contemplate my entire identity in order to buy a pint of milk.

Leslieville seems to be on the cusp of gentrification and is going its own way with that, maintaining a boho air and a definite gay-positive vibe (they even had their own Gay Pride fest last year) within a primarily gritty working-class 'hood. The Beach is nearby, they are building parks all around, I can walk to work and it has a great dynamic quality while managing to maintain a certain laid-backness. Plus there are some great shops, restaurants and bars popping up all over. So, for me it fit perfectly.

The main building itself (The Printing Factory) dates from 1913 and will be restored. My loft is in the new tower being built in the courtyard of the old factory. My suite will be on the 5th floor, facing south. I absolutely loved the layout of the model suite and it suited my needs perfectly. Furthermore, it was incredibly well designed in order to give prospective buyers an idea of how to maximize the use of the space. So, the floorplan that I went with is exactly that of the model suite.

Obviously, I am too unique an individual to imitate the model outright, but it has definitely given me some great ideas to build on, like the indented built-in dinning room- elegant, simple, practical, cozy and a clever use of space. Note the polished concrete floors and sliding doors instead of walls... Love that! I'm a homo-owner! That concept would have seemed daunting two weeks ago, but I bit the bullet and did it. I'm so excited it's ridiculous... You're all invited to the house warning, I don't care who you are. But please, have some sense of propriety and bring a housewarming gift... which I will have to somehow approve beforehand (ie: registry). Otherwise, bring your well wishes. But wishes are so abstract and easily faked. Bring wine instead. Or a night of sex for the guys out there.

I know that people do this every day and it is not earth-shattering. But given my current situation, my tendency to live exclusively in the present, my fear of acting selfishly and a tempered fear of change, this move is perhaps more personally resonant for me,

Mostly this is all very thrilling and novel, so indulge me if you could. I've (primarily happily) lived with my family for 95% of my life and since Dad's death, I've been looking after a pretty big suburban home with a yard and pool that I have little desire for as well as caring for my mom- not things I expected to be doing at this point when I imagined I would be genuinely establishing my own path... cannot do forever unless I essentially cede my life and end up as a 55 year old nellie queen, knitting beside my mother in a sub-standard rocking chair. I NEED this change on a myriad of levels. So, in my typically Greek dramatic way, this move is profoundly important to almost every aspect of my life.

More frivolously the space has to look great or I will be suicidal. I'm totally open to input about the loft from anyone... Below are pictures of the unit I have bought and one possible incarnation of it. I know it's not much to go on, but let me know what y'all think! And thanks for enduring another unnecessarily long post... I'm just a bit manic at the 'mo.

What does this say about me?

2007-03-04T00:28:00.000-05:00

Got this little gem from both Niko and MattinTo. Me likes in theory, but might not in practise. Here goes:

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you’re cool

Opening Credits: "Friend of Time" - Brightblack Morning Light
First Day At School: "Will He Be Waiting for Me" - Sarah Harmer
Falling In Love: "Want to Know You" - The Memory Band
Fight Song: "Cheap Like Sebastian" - Apostle of Hustle
Prom: "Dum-Dum" - The Vaselines
Life's OK: "Drumheller" - Caribou
Mental Breakdown: "I'm Going Out of My Way" - Stereolab
Driving: "Lick A Battery" - Add N to X
Flashback: "Surfing on a Rocket" - Air
Getting Back Together: "Ease Your Feet in the Sea" - Belle and Sebastian
Wedding: "The Only Way" - Jim Noir
Birth of Child: "Pilot" - The Notwist
Final Battle: "Tears Coming Home" - Sebastien Schuller
Death Scene: "Sleeping In" - The Postal Service
Funeral Song: "Energy is Beautiful" - Imitation Electric Piano
End Credits: "Postlude" - The Cinematic Orchestra

I made none of this up. Some seem creepily apt, others I don't recognize. Three occurrences of the name Sebastian in its various forms... Strange, non?

It would be funny if I were awake

2007-03-01T22:18:00.000-05:00

Went to a work related "workshop" today. I had hoped that it would be informative or interesting or thought-provoking in some way and it was. For half an hour. The first speaker was impressive and engaging, which set a promising tone for the event. At the Q&A after, my co-worker Kaseri was tempted to ask "Boxers or Briefs?" which would have been ace.

The next 4 hours were so boring, uninteresting and useless that it seemed almost surreal, as though I fell through a portal into an alternate universe where saying nothing in the most annoying way is a sign of genius. At points, I would drift in and out of a light sleep and then awake to a pretentious twit stating something so basic and obvious in a guru-like tone that I thought I had gone back in time to an era when his insights were relevant. Circa 1956.

Other times, I would tune back in to witness a far too eager and career-defined personification of boredom fail at his cheesy attempts at humour, all the while thinking that he was a total superstar... even though nobody even smiled or looked at him. His "wacky" gesticulations and interaction with the audience made him seem ridiculous and made me dizzy.

There was at least one other entertaining presentation, albeit it had little content but lent some partially unintended humour. Two guys made a presentation on a vaguely intriguing project they had worked on, but they seemed like total stoners and their quasi-Valley Girl phrasing and compulsive use of "like, you know" and random giggles was totally diverting in a good way.

Also, the organizers fed us crap snacks. After this little gem of a workshop, we had to face the blizzard raging outside and a two hour commute home (thanks for the lift, Kaseri and Yiaourti!). Even as I write this, my brain is filing a huge majority of today's memories in a dusty drawer labelled: Of no foreseeable use, recall only when unable to sleep or during bouts of self-doubt. Thankfully, this drawer is rarely used.

Stop Laughing

2007-02-28T22:29:00.000-05:00

For some reason, those that know me seem to find this fact hilarious: I have a personal trainer. Have had one since December, in fact. What's more, I'm fairly dedicated and have enjoyed it so far. Still, my peeps giggle when I say that I'm going to the gym, or that I did chin lifts.

In fairness to my detractors, I can understand. I am usually comfortably seated, smoking and dishing out ingenious witticisms and never run unless my life is in danger. I also have developed an aura of calm verging on aloofness or paralysis. A famous example is when a bar fight broke out in a local pub and, in the chaos, a chair was hurled in my general direction. Extrapolating its trajectory, I knew it would miss me so I just kept drinking and conversing while panic gripped the room. When one factors in my disdain for physical discomfort and my refusal to wear white socks outside of a gym/yardwork context, I can see where they're coming from.

So fine. I am not known for vigorous physical activity. But that is not entirely true, for these people have also seen me bounce insanely (both vertically and horizontally) while screaming "fun faggot!"- one of many similar examples. And, I will also add that I give myself a chubby when I see myself in the gym mirror, white socks and all. So I don't get why they are so amused. We'll see who's laughing when my "training" is done and I throw them out a window.

The floor is our canvas

2007-02-23T23:11:00.000-05:00

My co-worker Yiaourti and I have been slowly turning our (shared) office door into a collage of seemingly random found images. Although each item has a meaning to us, it would make very little sense to the casual observer. Each new addition provides us with much joy and self-satisfaction. We are continually surprised, however, at the lack of reaction our slowly evolving work has received.

One group of work-related people, however, have been reacting quite a bit lately- the cleaners. They have become quite vocal about their frustration with us. The cause of their distress is popcorn. Yiaourti and I recently kidnapped a microwave and put it in our office and have become deeply addicted to popcorn. As anyone who has gone to a movie theatre knows, popcorn is a delicious, but messy, pleasure. The cleaners are having nervous breakdowns at the popcorn shrapnel we leave on the floor every day, to the point where one saw the kernels on the carpet and yelped "I can't take this anymore". One of them has taken to calling us "the Popcorns". They'd have to vacuum anyway, so I don't get the meltdown.

Today, in an extension of our door-collage, we thought that we would up the ante in our private war with the cleaners and took images of popcorn and taped them to the floor to confuse/frustrate our enemies. We eventually found this too cruel and risky and abandoned the idea. This reminded us of the time when Yiaourti was harassing me with images of the Hamburglar. One of her attacks involved her taping the Hamburglar's face onto the floor at the entrance to our office. Recalling this, she accidentally called him "the Hamburger Helper", which I found ridiculously funny, as if he was a counsellor or consumer rights crusader for the hamburger community.

I wish we had left the popcorn pictures on the floor now.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And winter makes Genet long-winded and overly pensive.

2007-02-22T22:09:00.000-05:00

I had an urge to reconnect with the interweb world today, so here I am. Not sure why I've shunned the blog recently, although I suspect that it has something to do with the fact that my life is currently hyper-boring and therefore pointless to chronicle. That and my recent flirtation with superficial depression- a state that alarmingly reminds me of my pretentious, navel-gazing teendom but is strangely alluring in that it is vaguely interesting and fits my self-impoed isolation. In all fairness to myself, it must be said that the weather has been painful lately and I cannot fight the influence of Mama Nature when she turns the lights off early, locks me in a freezer and throws the freezer into the middle of a soul-sapping suburban strip mall.

I also recently turned 30. I never thought I was someone that would be affected by a birthday, but I guess I have been... Saying that I'm 30 sounds really wrong to me. I've never really felt any age (because I'm timeless), but our culture attaches so much relevance to turning 30 that I feel that I am either stupid, in denial or am having a pre-mid-life crisis. Then, I forget about the whole thing 10 minutes later. Très ambivalent.

At times like these, I need random and unexpected things to inspire me... Usually that involves an unlikely confluence of events that occur when I am still awake and not numbed by my increasingly banal daily routine. For reasons I can't remember, I was thinking about feudalism today and how a serf's life was really about surviving until the next day in order to continue fulfilling his/her pre-ordained role. They were really no more than an ox, but an ox that had the mental capacity and opposing thumb to plant stupid grains to make flavourless bread. I sometimes feel like that, like I'm going through the motions of living and therefore rebel against eating or sleeping to assert some kind of control. However, I realized that the ox-like serf in my mind did not have the vocabulary or luxury to have a metaphysical debate about their life and was likely too tired to intentionally not sleep. And if s/he had the opportunity to express themselves, their only outlet would be to light a candle in a creepy church. I then felt very happy and lucky that the thing which most disarms me is, in truth, something that I have complete control over. Essentially, I can be mentally and physically lazy, but there are very few external obstacles in my way. In other words, I can be a pompous and self-pitying infant.

And then, as if by magic, everything came together... I was listening to an album I recently bought called 'Burial' which is sort of best described as "nocturnal", "urban" and slightly menacing, but with an emotional complexity. Even though it is mostly electronic instrumentals with dubby vocals thrown in, it created a very appropriate mood. I'd heard the album but hadn't paid attention to the music before and it was a totally novel sound to my ears. My mother likes to blast the heat, so the basement was on fire and I had the window open. I was having a smoke, comforted by the music and fully absorbed by the novelty of its sound when a wisp of wind came through the window and drizzled some snow on my neck and back, physically giving me the shivers I was having in my mind. Then and there, Mama Nature and I reconciled. Serendipity, I tell you.

Yes, it's a small thing and it took me far too long to get to the point, but it was just what I needed- unintentional, both physical and cerebral and impeccably timed. Whether this flash of good vibrations will last, I don't know... but it has at least brought me out of exile for a moment and reminded me that I can create my life and direct my experiences. Moral of the story: I need to shut up and stop the navel-gazing self-pity. And Mama Nature, like most mothers, isn't the bitch I once thought she was... she just witholds her love until it is absolutely crucial and makes her feel needed.

Welcome back, peeps (if there are any of you left)... Bet you're glad you rejoined the party in my head, eh?

I'm back! ... Or am I... ?

2006-11-05T09:20:00.001-05:00

Having been much in the mood to blog lately, peep(s), which is probably obvious. I'm still not, but I thought I should write something.

I saw Borat the other night and almost threw up from laughing so hard. During the credits at the end, a nerd from the audience that was dressed as Borat hopped onto the stage which I found simultaneously retarded and cool. This was the first time that an entire audience laughed at the things that I found funny- although I found the suitcase-slamming-chicken-scream part far funnier than anyone else.

Of course, our American friends mostly come across as child-like aliens, but in truth, apart from some blatantly ignorant poo-poo brains, they were also endearing. Bobby-Jo from Missouri is not an intellectual or even sentient, but at least she is sweet and in all fairness gets an A for effort. As for the aforementioned poo-poo brains, they are truly creepy and would probably be institutionalized in any other industrialized nation. The Jesus brigade is particularly eerie.

Anyhow, the film is pure hysterics. Go see it.

Little Superstar

2006-10-25T14:33:00.000-04:00

Sorry for the absence lately... I'll be back on form soon.

In the meantime, watch this. It's too good on so many levels.

Toronto's Most Fantastic Convenience Store

2006-10-05T14:58:00.000-04:00

In order to get to the Boyf's place, I have to go south on Donlands- a street that is fairly banal. However, I discovered a convenience store on Donlands that is not only fantastic, but almost inspirational. And it's all thanks to the coolest Korean convenience store owner in the universe.

First of all, the woman laughs at everything. You say hello and she's already giggling. This is usually followed by a really random question, like: "Which muffin you favourite?". I also love the generosity and randomness of her coupons.

However, what really endeared her to me was her balanced and astute critique of gay porno mags. I bought one and once I brought it to the counter she asked if I was sure that was the one I wanted. She went on to say that she thinks "the boy look too pretty, like stupid girl" and brought me another mag. She was entirely right. We flipped through it together, passing judgements for a good five minutes. Her comments were hysterical. After I paid, she mentioned that at the end of every month she would like to give me a porno of her choosing for free. How can you not love her?

I love the night life

2006-10-02T15:10:00.001-04:00

Nuit Blanche was, by all accounts, a tremendous success. 450,000 people took part. The city was totally transformed and the vibe was both surreal and (cheese alert) magical. The city really pulled it off and I'm impressed. Impressed by the sheer numbers of people and the quality of most of the work. I had feared that it would wind up being a tacky craft fair with four people wandering around but I was very wrong.

Being a creature of the night myself, this was perfectly suited to my tastes- and it seems that I'm not the only one. I hope they do this every year.

Here's a good little write-up.

I feel like Columbus, but on a very small scale

2006-09-25T02:16:00.000-04:00

Except for a couple of very rare and inconsequential moments, I have always known everything. If I don't know something, I will have most likely have heard something related to it or can fake it quite convincingly. I am also a master at creating diversions that are inconspicuous. This is why I become profoundly excited on the rare occasion that I learn something new. Of course, I joke. I'm a very curious person and learn new things all the time. Most of it, alas, is useless. Not in this case though.

This weekend, I was surfing the interweb and stumbled on quite a bit of gripping porn. I also somehow ended up reading an article about a novel that has intrigued me. It is called The Toronto You Are Leaving, by Gordon Stewart Anderson. It is set in the gay world of 1970s Toronto. Anderson died of AIDS in 1991 and had never published his manuscript. His mother - whose following actions imply that she is a beautiful, generous, sympathetic and admirable woman - found her son's manuscript after his death. She then took it upon herself to edit and self-publish the novel after being rejected by the mega publishing houses. This back-history gives me enough reason to want to read it, if only to confirm to this woman that she did the right thing, that her son's voice still wants to be heard and to also contribute something to alleviating the financial burden she must have experienced in her task.

Beyond that, I am intrigued because I cannot imagine what Toronto - let alone "gay" Toronto - was like in the 70s. Toronto may be a major centre now, but then it was just finding its feet. I have rarely seen or read contemporary depictions of Toronto pre-1980... It's not like New York which has been documented in every way possible during every phase of its evolution. In fact, it was probably around the late-60s that Canada finally purged itself of its colonial insecurity and began to develop a unique voice. Yes, we were late-bloomers, but apart from New Zealand, I can think of no other country in a similar situation- having been a full-fledged British colony and also being colonized in a more ambiguous way by our superpower neighbour. It is perhaps a small miracle that we have managed to maintain our identity when one considers that we are dwarfed in every way by the US, share an enormous border, share the same language and are products of the same mother culture. If Europeans, with their profound tradition(s) feel threatened by US cultural dominance, they should consult us for tips. I'm getting off topic. Point is, with a few important exceptions, Canada is largely invisible in the landscape of pre-80s culture and I am curious about how and what this city was back then.

Also, Toronto has an astonishing capacity to rapidly yet rather organically transform itself all the time. So for me, having a first hand account of a homo experiencing the city that is my home but in a version of itself that is totally foreign to me, piques my curiosity. Plus, I think his mom is ace.

From what I have gathered, the book is available at This Ain't the Rosedale Library and Glad Day.

Toronto the Good needs to let me be "bad"

2006-09-21T19:55:00.000-04:00

On the way to work today, I heard that the TTC is thinking of running the subways in this town 24 hours. Although there are some very good arguments hesitant about this and it largely seems that the infrastructure doesn't exist, I'm happy that it is at least being considered. I find it encouraging that Toronto is shedding some of its provincialism and archaic concepts about time. The Mel Lastmans of the world may think that a tacky tourist trap may prove our "world-class" stature, but in my humble view, a world-class city is one that is confident and mature. Having Papa Puritan enforce a nap-time for millions of adults is just very... 1950. Here I'm referring especially to the 2am last call. This condescending cut-off is exposed as provincial when one considers that certain bars are allowed to stay open until 4am during the film festival, so the celebrity hordes can be fooled into believing we're glamorous party-girls. And having to trek around town before the ungodly hour of 10pm for a bottle of wine is just sadistic. When it's easier to buy a gram of coke than it is to buy a bottle of wine, something seems wrong to me.

Finally, taste beats out moula

2006-09-20T13:47:00.000-04:00

Final Fantasy is one of my favourite musical acts of the moment. It essentially consists of one Owen Pallett who uses his violin to create poppy yet complex compositions with intelligent lyrics to boot. He just won the inaugural Polaris Music Prize.

The Polaris Prize has been established to recognize the increasing greatness of the Canadian indie music scene and to reward albums based on artistic merit and not genre or sales. All the 10 nominees were great, but giving the award to Final Fantasy shows that the jury actually has brains and balls. All too rare nowadays. Good job, folks.

Toronto Film Festival Farfy Foo-Foo

2006-09-14T17:40:00.000-04:00

The TIFF (Toronto International Film Festival) seriously takes over this city. I think it was Ebert (but don't quote me) that said that Torontonians are cineastes the way the Milanese are opera fans. Superficial and pretentious, yes, but it's hard to dispute when you see 73 year old WASP nerd-women lining up at 9AM, Ziploc bag of trail mix in osteoperosified hand, to see a documentary about Nigerian lesbian mimes- which will be followed by at least 4 more films that day alone. Yes, there are some certain film fest types that are very obvious and they are all amusing...

The best thing is that the aforementioned WASP granny can do her thing while teenage girls, office worker and star-fucker homos sit at "celeb" bars alone and desperate in the hope of maybe glimpsing Brad Pitt's batty-crease. A film-geek will have a heart attack laughing at very average jokes during a screening because he knows the director's in the crowd and it makes him feel connected to art and he hopes the director will notice and become his pen-pal. A middle-aged Greek tiropita folder that is culturally illiterate will see the one Greek film programmed and declare it to be the best film in the history of cinema even though she leaves the screening confused, emotionless and tired.

There are also the indie kids that have shaggy hair and bury their internal tears in tedious layers of "clever" irony and recycled wit, then further embarass themselves with pseudo-intellectual analyses of mediocre Danish films that they assume are fantastic because they are obscure and foreign. Self-satisfied yuppies go to watch documentaries about poor peeps and feel that it makes a difference while they fart into their Starbucks cup. A suburban housewife will go to see a gala screening of a Hollywood blockbuster that will be in wide-release within days only to experience a modicum of glamour and to escape the smell of her hubby's cock. Then there is me who goes to see films based largely on the amount of screen time given to penises and bums.

You get the drift.

There are, however, around 250,000 people that will attend the festival and the vast majority of them go to see a movie without a neurotic reason. It really is an exciting time in the city, which may make us seem like millions of nerds but I like to think that it demonstrates a place that is open and curious and interested in "the other". In fact, the fact that this event has become so successful and so prominent is totally fitting for the T-Dot... it isn't a hedonistic or glamorous city, but it is the insecure voyeur in the corner jerking off and who also happens to have a disco bathhouse in the basement, full of really cool people. It is also an almost obnoxiously diverse place that somehow smooths differences over, sometimes to the dismay of those who thrive on dogma and division. We've got Hollywood and Tehraniwood humping here and instead of nuclear explosions you get a Diet Coke and a falafel. You could even throw them in a blender and I'm sure it would tasty to someone.

I saw a really good film called Chacun sa nuit, but I'll post about that later.

HIRT

2006-09-09T08:10:00.000-04:00

H: Horny
I: Irritable
R: Romantic
T: Tired

That has been my week. I'm all about acronyms today.

Creepy

2006-08-31T17:04:00.000-04:00

Umm... I saw the most bizarre thing on the web today...

What the fuck? How mental are these children going to be when they grow up? If God is this tacky, no wonder he's not trendy any more.

Yet further evidence that Christian fundamentalist psychos have no understanding of spirituality- YOU CAN'T WEAR IT, FUCKWITS. How can so many millions take everything so literally that it becomes a bad parody of religion (or any kind of meaning)? Hilarious and depressing all in one.

Click here to order your pyjamas.

Genet is fucking awesome and very stupid at the same time

2006-08-28T01:08:00.000-04:00

I was planning for my next post to be something intellectual or at least impersonal, but fuck that... I haven't experienced anything that is more interesting than my sordid-banal life recently, so let's dispense with the 6-or-so billion humans that pollute this planet and the 1000s of years of history they collectively share. Cuz really, my weekend was waaaaaaaay more riveting.

Having said that, I will not go into details that may reveal my sentimental side since I'm trying to maintain an aura of jaded aloofness on this thing. The important thing is that I had a very beautiful weekend with the Boyf that helped to cement my already deep love for him. We also had fantastic sex.

On Friday, we went to see the David Cronenberg-curated Andy Warhol exhibit at the AGO. I've never been a huge fan of Warhol's work and while this experience didn't change that, it was illuminating. Cronenberg's take on his work was probably more interesting to me than the work itself and that is a pretty impressive impression of the exhibit, methinks. The Boyf did something tremendously hilarious during our AGO visit, but I'll recount that another time.

Last night, we saw The Russian Futurists and Junior Boys in concert at the El Mo. They are two of my favourite local bands and the concert was deeply satisfying... the kind of satisfying that is rare but fills you with comfort and happiness. I really wish that it could have lasted for days. After the concert, the Boyf and I spent many hours laughing at our stupid jokes which became increasingly abstract, surreal and harsh.

I just got back from the local pub and pulled one of my trademark bimbo clueless moves. I've had the impression that a waiter at the local is "heteroflexible" and has indicated that he is interested in me at some level for a long period of time now. Just as I was about to leave, I joked that I wished the bar had a take out alcohol service, which he misheard. He thought that I was using "take-out" and "delivery" as euphemisms for "top" and "bottom", so he responded with "I deliver". I, in my bimbastic glory, had no idea what he was talking about. After several moments of me blankly staring at him like an Alzheimer's victim, I got what he meant. Of course, it was too late at that point and the moment had been cremated. Moral of the story? It's way easier to just hump my leg than use cryptic language if you want to get your mouth/hands/ass around my uncut cock, or vice-versa.

Let's all try to be more forward, direct and comfortable when we want to express our attraction to someone. It may not be reciprocated, but at the very least, they will feel good because everyone wants to be wanted, we won't have bullshit "what ifs?" running around our heads and we can use that time to get a detailed memory-imprint of the hottie which can later be used as a visual aid for a jerk-off session. Might not be a full-on win-win, but it's not exactly Katrina either, non?

Finally back on Eastern Daylight Time

2006-08-22T23:55:00.000-04:00

In a potentially alarming indication that I am indeed aging, it has taken me much longer than usual to get over my jet-lag. Today is the first day I haven't felt that I needed a crystal meth addiction to keep me awake. I suppose that means that I am now 100% back home. I hope that the good spirits my trip fostered will decide to move in with me and not take the first one-way flight back to London. I'm not too concerned as we are getting along very well.

I spent some time with my fellow pousto-levendi, the incomparable Niko on Monday night, which was great. I rarely get the chance to speak Greek in a homo context and as I have written about before, the idiosyncrasies of the Greek psyche are pretty difficult for those unfamiliar with the culture to fully understand it, so it's always refreshing to discuss Greek things with a fellow insider. And when that insider is as intelligent, funny and kind as Niko, it makes for great convo over some retsina, dolmadakia and Greek sausages. Thanks, Nikolaki!

The highlight of the day today was the purchase of Pet Shop Boys tickets for the Boyf and myself. I love them. They write great melodies, are great lyricists and their work is interesting, culturally/politically aware and intelligent. How many other poppy-dance outfits would even contemplate writing a new soundtrack to Eisenstein's seminal Battleship Potemkin? Just think how absolutely lost Britney would be reading that last sentence- it would be enough to make her drop her baby in a confused haze...

Before I sign off, I'd like to share a small, yet highly amusing piece of random information that I learned today. Reuter's correspondent in war-torn Sudan is named... (drumroll)... Opheera McDoom. Unbelievably, this is not a joke. Not only can I not believe that these two names are real, I am stunned that they are coupled together. Here's an example of her work to assuage any guilt I may feel about reducing the woman to a punchline. It also confirms that this is not bullshit. I hope for her that her name is not an omen, the poor thing.

Le voyage - Goodbye, Londres!

2006-08-20T15:13:00.000-04:00

Had a great time in that former imperial capital. London- I love you, terror threats and all.

I'm now back in Toronto and getting back to my routine, which is far more tolerable after having had this brief change of environment. I felt like I lived in London in a tiny pink bachelor pad for 9 days. It was very comfortable and good. Maybe it's being part of the Commonwealth, but I think that the culture shock would be far greater if I was in another city and since I wanted to maximize psychological comfort, I'm glad I crossed the pond. In many ways, London felt like a larger and older version of Toronto which can only be a good thing.

Seeing my friends was the absolute best part of the trip and made me realize how much I really miss their presence. Whippy came all the way from Scarbra! The trip was actually very calm and relaxed, which is what I really needed. Of course there were surreal moments, like the time a Jamaican woman started to french me in a gay bar while giving me poppers and jerking me off. I also reconciled with an old flame, which was nice. Oh... and I threw a coming out party for Paddington Bear. The photos will be posted below. London seems to house at least 49 million homos which is very convenient and happy. What's more, there is a fantastic club night called Horsemeat Disco which feels very early 80s in the best way. That enough could compel me to fly over for a weekend.

Being back at home has been uneventful but I feel recharged. The Boyf and I have spent some time together and Niko is in town which is fantastic.

Not much else to say, really. At least nothing I can think of, so all 4 of you readers are updated. I will sign off by telling y'all about a hilariously pretentious thing some middle-class Londoners do... they will transform the name of their district to sound more "Continental" or sophisticated.... example: Vauxhall (normally pronounced vox-hall) becomes-- vos-all. Battersea (bat-er-see) = ba-ter-zee-a. Clapham (clap-am) = Claaam. I find that hysterically pompous and useless. But I love the fact that London is big and diverse enough to include such idiots and that everyone mocks those nerds.

Now, here's Paddington...

Le voyage - Hello, Londres

2006-08-08T19:02:00.000-04:00

Firstly, Europe really needs to invent air-conditioning. It’s not even that hot here and my room is 8000 degrees… In Bath, I couldn’t open my window because there were crazy falcons and seagulls circling my hotel all day long. There was a flock of seagulls (not the band, the animal) that woke me up every day at 5am… A friend of mine told me that a seagull actually flew into his flat in Bath and ransacked the place, shitting everywhere and going mental. HOLY NIGHTMARE.

Anyhoo… the wedding was very lovely. Jumble was gorgeous and the meal was stupidly amazing. Afterward, we all gathered at the newlywed’s house for a party complete with fireworks.

When the night started to wind down, Jumble kinda lost it and started bawling because she wanted it to be me and her getting married. Clearly, her hubby was distressed and I was uncomfortable. But she was drunk and kept chasing me screaming “my dress is part of your body” and tried to snare me into her bridal gown, so she was in state to listen to reason.

I spend the past couple of days wandering around Bath and have been tremendously relaxed. I got to London today and am in love with my hotel- I basically have a bachelor apartment with a maid, I have loads of groceries in the kitchen, the subway (sorry, Tube... steak... penis... yum) is ten steps away and an off-license (ie: liquor store) around the corner. I'm now ready to take London on. The one hilarious thing is that my room is really... feminine. As in pick checkered bedsheets and pink polka-dot pillows. At first I was uneasy, but now I feel like a pre-teen girl circa 1987 and it's strangely amusing.

I'll post photos later...

Finally, a big congratulations to Nick (Niko) + Mason being officially welcomed to move to Canada. Can't wait to call you guys Torontonians!

Le voyage - Bath is pretty

2006-08-04T17:41:00.000-04:00

I arrived in Bath yesterday afternoon after an easy-breezy flight from Toronto. Went for drinks with my soon-to-be-married friend (Jumble), got some room service and crashed. I tried to watch some British TV, but the only thing on was a very boring reality program that showed a cop waiting in his car on some country road and talking about the mechanics of breathalyzers. He eventually arrested a drunk driver and it was all very civilized and uneventful.

Today, I wandered around town, bought the Time Out Gay Guide to London, ate a crappy pasta and napped. Bath is very beautiful and touristy, but the tourists don't detract from its charm. Ew, I hate the word charm...

Anyhow, today has been a lazy first real day of the holiday. Just got back from Jumble's and am getting ready for bed as the wedding is early tomorrow morning. I'm paranoid that I'm going to sleep through it.

So, no adventures yet... There's a "poof" bar up the road from my hotel, so I'll check that out Sunday night, but the bar hours here are bizarre, so I'm not sure it will be open but I'll figure something out.

This is my favourite thing I saw today (well, besides some hot beefy Brit boys)...

...can't... breathe...

2006-08-01T14:20:00.000-04:00

Holy shit, it is hot.

It is 48 degrees celcius (118 F) with the humidity.

This is gross.

Ohhh... now I'm riled up

2006-07-30T17:40:00.000-04:00

I'm trying to get into holiday mode - as I keep reminding y'all - but seriously, this Israeli v. Hezbollah thing is ruining it for me. ENOUGH. I'm sorry if this offends pro-Israelis and I was sympathetic to the impetus for current actions, but this has gone way, way too far. In my view of justice and reality, the force unleashed upon Lebanon has far outweighed any original rationale and is now in the territory of "absolutely revolting". What will it take for this to stop? I'm afraid that it has gone beyond that point and that is depressing and dumb.

Oh. And to the fucking nipple-dick that e-mailed me and accused me of being anti-Semitic (in reference to this post)... shut your mouth. The Israeli government is not a race or ethnic group and like anything else, is open to criticism- especially when killing people is involved. I have never referred to the Israeli government or military as "the Jews". In my initial post (which offended you somehow leading me to believe that you are somehow slow, like Rain Man) I stated that I was sympathetic to the initial reasoning for an attack against Hezbollah. But Hezbollah is not a country or city or village. Yes, that makes it more difficult an enemy, but as a legitimate government, this should not mean wholesale devastation on the Israeli's part... the ends do not justify the means here. And if they did, where do "the means" end? And why does any military force have the authority to determine that limit at the expense of non-combatants? Right now, what is the difference between the Israeli army killing 34 kids in a random Lebanese village and Hezbollah killing random people in Haifa? Radicalism on any side sickens me and I can't find it within my beautiful self to get so worked up about anything that I'd want to kill it.

Anyhoo... my non-anti-Semitic brain tells me that what Israel is currently doing is not in accordance with my principles, ethics or anything that I find acceptable. Disagree with me as much as you wish. Your argument is becoming less sustainable, but be a stubborn baby. Just don't tell me who I am or what I think. Or else I'll get the Israeli army after you... Stop crying. It was a joke at your expense. Get a brain, backbone and perm and go away. Holy shit, you really annoyed me, eh? And yes, I am aware that I am a faggot. Have been for a long time. I fall in love with men. I like to kiss them and I also like to put things up my ass. Except stupid things, like you. Therefore, you have nothing to worry about. And if you contact me again, do it through the comments on the blog... I'm not going to get carpal tunnel clicking on my Inbox because of you.

I'm tearing it up, peeps... In a bad mood and this fuckwad is in the line of fire. Sorry for the diatribe.

Passport. Check!

2006-07-28T22:05:00.000-04:00

I'm getting an emergency passport issued and it will be ready on Tuesday, so there's that out of the way.

In a bid to save money for the upcoming trip, I am staying in tonight and I am very bored... Sleeping pill time!

Oh... and I got this meme from Niko... It sounds creepily possible...

In a Past Life...

You Were: A Gorgeous Cannibal.

Where You Lived: Greece.

How You Died: Killed in Battle.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

Genet is a motherfucking dolt

2006-07-27T23:39:00.000-04:00

I can't find my passport and I leave on Wednesday. Now, I have to go through an elaborate process to get an emergency passport issued. I am such a nerd sometimes. And I know it probably fell out of my bag when I was searching for lube at some losers house. Bravo, Genet. Bravo.

I would like to roger that bloke

2006-07-26T15:33:00.000-04:00

I'm brushing up on my English English even though I feel like an impostor saying things like "mate" or "quid". I am determined to use "fag" all the time, though. Above, is an example of an obvious, yet delightlful double-entendre ashtray I bought a while back.

That's all I've got at the moment, folks.

Wait for me

2006-07-25T22:39:00.000-04:00

As it may have come across on this blog, I love Toronto. And now that my trip is approaching, a traditional Genet phenomenon is creeping up... This seems to contradict a previous post, but it's more innocuous than that.

I always have a few days of doubt and regret about my trips. The feelings are very fleeting and disappear once I'm at the airport (and they are probably based on one incident in 1998 that I shall share later), but I always feel that I may miss something that is happening here at home that is important. Or that I will return to a changed place, however subtle. I also worry about people and work and that stuff, but it's mostly a theoretical "what if?" that disturbs me. It's very dumb and I guess it questions my routine here, but it happens none-the-less. This being my first real trip since dad's passing and the fact that Tenis' honeymoon overlaps with mine adds an extra layer since Yoda will be alone, as does a recent blow-out the Boyf and I had. But generally, it is the idea of missing not being here that is the sub-text to all these temporary feelings.

Once, this sentiment came true. It was during the 2003 blackout across the NE US and Ontario. I was in Spain at the time enduring a sadistic heatvwave (temperature at 3am: 46C). Tenis and I were travelling together and we saw BBC reports about a massive power outage (incidentally, we Canucks were initially blamed but it was soooo not our fault). First, I had horrible images of my dad trapped in an elevator and causing it to crash due to his weight... then I thought of friends sweltering in subways. That kind of thing. Everything turned out fine.

When I got home, I realized that this was a seminal event and a Torontonian one. Folks helped each other out, citizens became traffic cops, yadda, yadda. But more impressive was the atmosphere that seems to have imbedded itself in people's memory. Kids hauled their turntables and generators into downtown intersections and held dance parties all over, entire neighbourhoods BBQ'd up thier perishable foods for all to share, bars stayed open by candlelight alone, salsa bands randomly formed... It was a party for all. A communal sense of freedom and joy. No looting or paranoia, but a party. In fact, it is such a part of local lore that it is celebrated every year at Blackout Parties all over. And I'm so, so sad I missed that.

Don't get me wrong... Spain was fantastic. But an event that unique in your hometown tugs on the heartstings differently than sweating and eating 80,000 varieties of seafood with your Type-A sister in Barcelona.

This is probably my most bourgeois post, eh? What can you do?

** Oh... and I'm not suggesting that these things didn't happen elsewhere... I just don't know about anything outside the Torornto experience.

Genet weighs in on the newest mid-East crisis

2006-07-22T20:10:00.000-04:00

It is seriously ironic that even in an age when the world is more connected than ever and when events thousands of kilometres away are known to all that there is still such a Brechtian distancing effect from real events. We all see what is happening in Lebanon, but apart from Lebanese ex-pats, nobody seems to be able to move their ass to do anything about it.

Before I continue I should say that I could initially understand the Israeli government trying to free its soldiers and simultaneously weakening Hezzbolah. After the Beirut airport was reduced to rubble, it became clear to me that something else was going on... Namely, a desire to assert and cement Israeli military dominance in the region with essentially "shock and awe" tactics. Conveniently, Israel cannot claim to have developed this military strength independently, as without massive US support, it would be virtually defenseless. Just like Hezbollah would not exist without external aid. And I'm not comparing the two, so don't get all mental.

As a democratically elected government, I think that Israel has to maintain democratic ideals and behave as a democracy. I understand that their security is threatened and that the kidnapping of anyone is intolerable. OK. I also realize that Hezbollah poses a threat to Israeli citizens. But I also find it utterly reprehensible that a democratic nation would use such force against neighbouring countries on the basis of defending its security and returning the kidnapped solders. In any other context, this disproportionate use of violence would be resolutely condemned. Why not now? How does the Beirut (civilian) Airport endanger Haifa? It doesn't. How does a Lebanese-Canadian toddler threaten Israel? Why does this seemingly rogue-nation behaviour become justified? It almost feels like a teenager with pent-up rage going mental over not being able to borrow the family sedan on Saturday night.

Frankly, I find it revolting. Unfortunately, the only nation that can influence the situation is the US which seems to believe that it is perfectly acceptable for a foreign government to kill civilians in another country for security purposes. Oh wait! They invaded Iraq for the threat some mysterious WMDs posed... Right! Totally forgot, since after the absence of said WMDs it was a battle for the "freedom" of the Iraqi people... the WMDs got lost in the shuffle. As did the threat. And therefore the whole point of the war. And that was always known. Who knew that freedom meant the persistant spectre of being kidnapped or almost daily bombings? Y

Hezbollah is nuts. However, they were not sanctioned by the Lebanese people in their recent acts. Shelling Haifa is disgusting and dangerous. Every country has the right to defend itself and if Israel took out Hezbolah, I would find it great. However, there must be limits and the target has to be consistant and focused. There is a reason why Mr. Olmert is the head of a government and not a terrorist organization- governments are supposed to act based on justice and ideals, they are not meant to emulate the wanton devastation that terrorists favour.

And where is the rest of the world on this issue? How can Harpy not retract his statement the the Israeli response has been measured when his own citizens are fleeing in intense fear? Clearly, Lebanon has become a battleground for forces that are mostly unrelated to the country itself, namely Hezbollah, Syria, Iran, Israel and perhaps, the US. But it is the citizens of Lebanon that are petrified, dying and that lack the necessities of life. Are we so politicized that we can make human suffering an abstract concept?

On a more practical note, I find it astounding that the US and Israel use violence to combat "Islamic radicals" but show very little desire in helping address the real, underlying causes of this radicalism. The invasion of Iraq was meant to protect the US from terrorism, but by subjecting Iraqis to massive instability, hardship and uncertainty through a botched and illegal war, I am certain that many more kids in Baghdad will want to damage the West today than could be found 5 years ago. Similarily, by destroying civilian's lives, does Israel really believe that it is not fostering even more hate? I'm sure Hezbollah now enjoys more public support than it did two weeks ago... How does that help security? This is exasperatingly stupid.

I'll shut up now.

Au Revoir, Alcatraz

2006-07-22T19:01:00.001-04:00

I need a change of environment. Everything is starting to annoy me. I seriously cannot wait until August 2nd when I'm on that fucking plane to London.

I am so impatient about this trip that I have become uncharacteristically hyper-organized. For example, I already have my tickets for the bus to Bath from Heathrow, from Bath to London and from London to Heathrow. And, since my hotel comes equipped with a kitchen, I have already sent my grocery list to have the cuisine stocked for my arrival in London (I love this service). The food in the UK is expensive and sub-par, so I'd rather cook some meals for myself.

Not to sound like Little-Victim-Genet, but it will be so relieving to lose the obligation of being obligated to various people and to be able to do things on my terms. I spend the majority of my days running from one obligation to another and these duties rarely involve me personally. I need some "me time"... and it's been a year and a half since I've had it. Eww.... I'm sounding like a bad promo for Dr. Phil. Gross.

Another bonus- my friend Glammy from Toronto is now living in London and we are going to go Paris for lunch.

I've decided that this is also going to be a sex trip, so that should relieve even more stress. There are 10 million people in London and I aim to have at least 1% of them see and touch my cock by the time I depart. Wish me luck!

... blank ...

2006-07-20T18:30:00.000-04:00

I'm so tired that I feel like I'm in another dimension.

Ethnocentric thoughts on nostalgia, melodrama and the Greek-Canadian experience

2006-07-18T22:57:00.000-04:00

I own the DVD of the Opening and Closing ceremonies of the Athens Olympics. For months before the event, I was excited and nervous about how we would present ourselves to billions. I had fears of Zorbas all over the stadium, although I was familiar with the choreographer (Dimitris Papaioannou) and his avant-garde work.

Greece is a country that is rather easily distilled into stereotypes: the Acropolis, the islands, Zorba and souvlaki are some examples. However, being intimate with the culture I am aware of the profound depth of Greekness, a quality which juggles the past and present, the East and West and which has a rich folk and intellectual history.

Watching the ceremonies, I am always impressed by the intelligent and elegant way these were all presented. And I appreciated that contemporary Greece and its richness was not side-lined.

A beautiful memory: I remember my father and I eating mezes in the basement together while watching the opening and both getting teary-eyed by what we were seeing. I'm in nostalgia mode and am watching the spectacle again and am still impressed. Not having been born in Greece but having a deeply innate connection to the place, I can't help but be moved- especially since so many thought we'd fuck it all up.

And watching this reminds me of my dad and what a truly unique, sometimes bizarre, but always interesting heritage I have inherited. I'm no Greek nationalist by any stretch, but I find our melding of disparate influences to be fascinating... sometimes infuriating... but ultimately inspiring. And really, my dad encompassed the best of "Greekness" in my mind while soundly rejecting its hypocrisies.

This Greekness is impossible to describe, but in a nut-shell, he was open and warm-hearted, flexibly stubborn, always fair, curious, dignified, hedonistic yet responsible, devoted, independent-minded but multi-dimensional and unconditional with his love. Contradictions come easily to us. I miss him, but watching this helps.

By the way, towards the end, there is a guy running around the track with an olive branch flag to commemorate the previous Olympic Games. You can totally see a huge boner in his shorts at one point.

Thanks for the indulgence, whoever reads this.

Hell is outside my window

2006-07-16T15:14:00.000-04:00

OH MY GOD. It is so fucking hot. I tried to suntan and lasted 0.4 seconds. As you can see, the city even looks like it's scorching. I swear I have seen four birds just give up and fall out of the sky from heat stroke. It is 42 degrees (that's 107 farenheit for you wanky yankees) with the humidex factored in. Tomorrow will be hotter. The Boyf came over yesterday to take a dip in the pool and hang out because the poor thing has no AC. I'm still boiling with the AC on. I just called to check in on him and he is in a heat-induced coma. I miss winter right now...

Genet and Cabs 1

2006-07-15T01:59:00.000-04:00

I don't drive. Never wanted to. I also don't like transit too much. Therefore, I take many cabs. And I have had some hilarious experiences in cabs, one of which occurred tonight.

The Boyf has an long-lost friend visiting him from his hometown, so we obviously took her out. The details are unimportant. On our way back home, we got a cab and I was getting very tired and after spending three nights with them, I wanted to get away, so I sat in the front passenger seat and let them have the back. The Boyf sat directly behind me and kept hugging me and kissing my head which clearly indicated that we are homos. When we got the the Boyf's, I decided that I'd run in to piss and then continue in the cab to my place.

When I returned to the cab, I sat in the back as I normally would. Keep in mind it is tropically hot and humid in Toronto today. So, I sit down and notice that all the windows in the cab are rolled up but there is no AC going. OK...? I tell the cabby my destination and then notice that he has the seat warmer in the back going full blast. My ass has melted at this point and I'm sweating as though I had run 14 marathons in the Sahara. So I ask: "Why the fuck is there hot air blowing up my ass?" His response was ace: "The foam in the seat gets hot in this weather and needs to breathe. Why don't you come back up here? You didn't have that problem before." I responded: "I'll take the heat and you can just drive". He was clearly pissed off.

Now, I've fooled around with cabbies before for a variety of reasons, but there was something about his devious tactics that turned me off. That and the fact that I wasn't attracted. But the best was when I said "thanks, good night" and he replied "you embarassed me... good night". Him trapping me in a locked space that was 1000 degrees in order to force me to sit beside him so that he could molest me somehow was dignified, I suppose. I couldn't stop laughing. And then I saw him driving in circles through the maze-like streets of my neighbourhood for a good ten minutes like a trapped animal and thought that was even funnier.

Jaloux

2006-07-13T15:54:00.000-04:00

My sister called from Greece, where she is spending a 5 (!) week honeymoon. In my infinite generosity, I planned the entire trip for her and I did a fantastic job. The hotels I chose are stunning. But now I am jealous. And when she calls and describes the places she's visiting, I get more jealous. I even got jealous hearing the mopeds in the background when she called from Thessaloniki. She's in Epirus (where my mom's from) right now, which is where the photo above shows. She'll also be going to Athens and four islands. Sigh...

Suddenly, I wish I was going to the motherland this summer instead of England, but I'm sure that will dissipate when I'm knocking back the pints with my friends in jolly old.

Peaches Rocks

2006-07-12T17:06:00.000-04:00

Former Torontonian skank-hopper and all-around omnisexual party girl Peaches has released her new album Impeach My Bush.

The first track, Fuck or Kill has the following lyrical wisdom to impart:

I'd rather fuck who I want than kill who I am told to
Let's face it we all want tush
If I'm wrong impeach my bush
Impeach my bush
Impeach Bush

Gotta love her.

On the uselessness of speaking

2006-07-11T23:36:00.000-04:00

You know when you are 100% certain of something because you are the only person that witnessed or experienced it... And you rather innocently tell other people about it but they develop their own facts, interpretations and events for dubious reasons... And when you tell them that they are wrong, they get frustrated even though they are merely experiencing it vicariously and ignore the reality of the moment... And it becomes really condescending and irrational because you are talking to a wall made of deaf bricks... And then you give up because you don't care enough, but the fictional events conjured by your idiot audience becomes the "truth" and they find joy in relating the story even though they were never a part of it... And the event becomes theirs and they don't realize that it is entirely false... And you realize that reality is really subjective and pointless?

Maybe you don't. But I find that tiresome and annoying.

I don't really care but suddenly I do

2006-07-09T18:21:00.000-04:00

Here's a photo of the Corso Italia post victory.

Toronto has the largest Italian population outside of Italy... we've gots 700,000 of 'em. There are 200,000 Italianos on St. Clair right now alone. The Corso Italia is insane and I love watching it from a distance even though I wasn't cheering for Italia. Now I am, though. I'm a sucker for happy people and there is much humpable material on the TV right now. Pesto is dripping out of my pores. The Boyf is being bombarded with Italian pride and is threatening to strangle people with spaghetti.

Congrats, PDD. I love you.

Fantastic

2006-07-08T16:02:00.000-04:00

One of the incredibly few benefits of living with a widowed Mommy in the suburbs is that you get the above as a backyard.

It's 30 degrees, sunny, there's a breeze and I spent the past three hours lying on the hammock, drinking beers, chatting with friends on the phone and suntanning. Perfuck.

Meet: Roy + Silo

2006-07-07T12:52:00.000-04:00

Roy and Silo are two gay penguins that live in NYC's Central Park. I'm serious.

Now, for all its cosmopolitanism and "freedom", New York fails to recognize gay penguin or human love. To rub salt in the wound, New York state yesterday dealt a legal blow (no pun here, folks) to same-sex couples yet again. The solution...

Roy + Silo will have a symbolic Torontonian wedding this weekend as part of the Wade Festival, which has artists and performers take over wading pools across the city. From the artists: "an evening of penguin video and performance by a flock of decoy bridesmaids... of course, there will be cake".

NASA, you sexy beast!

2006-07-04T12:50:00.001-04:00

The folks at NASA appear to be dildo experts as well. Where do I sign up? Are they planning to probe Uranus? Cheesy, yes. I know.

It appears that I lied in my previous post. The culture will have to wait.

Feelings...

2006-07-03T11:55:00.000-04:00

I'm having a XXX rated moment. Can't help it. You do too, but you're afraid of it (I'm so arrogantly presumptuous!). If this disturbs anyone's Christian/Atheist/Whatever morals, please read about sane subjects like bombed corpses on your beloved CNN instead. The sarcasm is coming from Zeus and is fantastic... Anyhoo...

I really feel like getting plowed right now. And I want vocals. Example:

HIM: You like that cock in your ass?
ME: Keep fucking my hole, man!

And later:

ME: This cock feel good in your ass, man?
HIM: Oh yeah! Keep slammin' it. Umph.... yeah!
ME: This ain't never gonna stop, man... You feel too good...

The reciprocity of gay sex is stunningly beautiful. And, like love, sex can only be spoken of in clichés.

The fact that I speak nothing like this in reality makes sex-talk super-duper hot. Mind you, I have zero desire to see my orgasm face. None. What does that say about me?

Thanks for indulging me. I'll get cultured (like bacteria, yo) in my next post.

Je le sais

2006-06-29T15:35:00.001-04:00

Yes, I have been a bit absent of late. Apologies.

Went to Pride with the Boyf and had a hysterical time. It felt like there were over a million people this year and the vibe as always, was happy and horny.

We took many of our favourite type of photo- the randomly abandoned item photo. An example can be found above.

We also made very long Pride straws from which we drank copious amounts of alcohol from the Boyf's backpack. Combine that with the heat and we were plastered very early on and decided to head home for a BBQ. We dropped the pork tenderloin in the garden but were hungry and drunk, so we ate it anyway. Très gritty. Très classy.

The rest of the week has been banal, but last weekend was enough fun for a month.

I like islands

2006-06-25T03:58:00.000-04:00

Ummmm... I went to the Broken Social Scene concert on Olympic island tonight. Besides the fact that the music was incredible, the venue was fan-fucking-tastic. The weather was perfect, there was a gentle breeze and we were on an island minutes away from the Big Smoke. The view of the skyline was ridiculously beautiful, especially at sunset. The Boyf demonstrated uncharacteristic intelligence and had a friend take our photo against the gorgeous view, while some of my favourite music ever was being played. Tremendous.

Another highlight was the remarkable amount of hot men. I came 32,976 times. Some of them were sweaty. I love that. Being the owner of numerous fetishes, it was totally a field day for me with armpits, feet and bellies all around me. Fun, fun times.

But without a doubt, the best part was the general vibe. Despite the trek to get there and the numerous line-ups we had to endure, it seemed that the entire crowd was happy, relaxed and comfortable. Add incredible bands to that and really, there is no better way to spend a summer's day... Except, perhaps at Pride, which happens to be only a few hours away. But you already knew that.

HAPPY PRIDE!

2006-06-24T04:25:00.000-04:00

I usually miss the boat when it comes to civic festivals. And I don't feel very connected to the "gay community". But Pride is different for me. I actually get happy about it and although I know some of my friends are cynical and avoid it, I still find Pride Week to be beautiful. We are so lucky to live in a place where a homo celebration is a tradition that involves 1 million people, is sponsored by all levels of government and that the entire community has embraced. As I will demonstrate below, this makes me horny about life.

I love that I live in a city that I can comfortably kiss the Boyf in any part of the downtown and many parts of the suburbs. I love that homophobia is a social no-no now. I love that Pride has become an event for all Torontonians and that they look forward to it. I love that I can get hammered and run around kissing hundreds of men that are all happy and comfortable and safe and hot. I love that there are three Prides happening this year: on the east-side, in the west-end and downtown. I love that Pride has become a celebration because we have nothing serious to protest about domestically but I hate that there are places in the world where being a homo is still dangerous or difficult. But... again... I love that we have hundreds of thousands of people on the street showing the world that tolerance and equality is right and fun and that two faggots getting married does not change anything except their lives. I love living in a city where no hotel clerk bats an eyelash at two guys checking in for one bed. I love cheering for P-FLAG and seeing grannies at the parade with their lesbo granddaughters prancing around topless and pierced. And I love being queer and having no follow-up questions asked that require me to justify me existence. This city has come a long way since I was a teenager and it is likely the gayest city ever and I love it for that.

Toronto, sometimes I want to hump and french you.

Cue 'Golden Girls' Theme Song

2006-06-22T00:13:00.000-04:00

I'm not in the mood to post, but am in the mood to share. As a compromise, I shall post lyrics. I have noticed that nobody comments on my lyric postings, but worse things have happened and I like lyrics. I rediscovered this song today and it is rare in that it is about friendship... I think. There are 17 billion songs about love in every language but friendship gets shafted. Not in this case. I profoundly love my friends so this song makes me happy.

Come on, let's go - Broadcast

You won't find it by your self
You're gonna need some help
And you won't fail with me around
Come on let's go

I will tell you if you change
And who's been saying things
It's hard to tell who is real in here
Come on let's go

You know who to turn to
Now everything's changed
Come on lets go
Stop looking for answers In everyone's face
Come on let's go

What's the point in wasting time
On people that you'll never know
Come on let's go

When you're looking for a friend
But it's empty at the end
When everybody's disappeared
You won't be alone

If you want I'll compensate
If you overestimate
So there's nothing left to fear
You won't be alone

Irritated BBQ Rant

2006-06-18T10:36:00.000-04:00

Last night, the Boyf and I hosted a BBQ for some friends of ours that we love. I think that it all went well. We had salmon and a variety of appetizers, but really for me, it's about the company. I myself enjoyed the convo and warmth. Zamboola was there, so it can't really get better.

Anyhow, the Boyf annoyed me. He didn't do anything, but his occasional social awkwardness can be obnoxious. And he really has to learn how to tell time. Earlier in the afternoon, I felt like I was dating an autistic faggot. He spent hours cleaning the bathroom which is fantastically hygienic of him, but his obsession meant that I had to run to the grocery store, come back home, marinade the salmon, run to the liquor store, flower shop, convenience store, set up the evening with his limited equipment and pull it all together. And he was still cleaning the washroom after all that. Unless he has a new medical condition that I am not aware of, there was no need for that attention to detail and it drove me nuts. The bathroom was fucking clean and we weren't having a buffet in the bathtub.

I in no way was panicking about the evening, but things need to get done and when guests are arriving in 20 minutes, it's generally a good idea to have at least, oh I dunno, a napkin ready. When our friends did finally arrive, we were OK, but the Boyf's social weirdness meant that he would make random appearances interspersed with retreats into the house. Annoying, embarrassing and weird. Although we had a beautiful evening, I seriously wanted to throw him onto the barbecue and compost him. And I might just do that.

To mes amis: you are my emotional amants. To the Boyf: shhhh.

Ganja is gross

2006-06-17T06:40:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine is visiting from Vancouver, a city I am not very fond of. Yes, it is beautiful and all, but not my kind of place. Ask JR.

Anyhow, this friend has become a pothead and brought weed with him for the trip. Last night, he was smoking it and I got severely high just by smelling it. I thought I was going to barf. We went to a club - because it is a novelty for him - and I actually fell asleep. I just left after a few minutes because I was so out of it and barfy.

How useless is that? If everyone reacted to pot the way I did, it's no wonder Vancouver can be so boring...

Every major cosmopolitan city needs one of these

2006-06-14T17:29:00.000-04:00

And no, I don't mean the new Opera House.

Apparently, this strange little old man is either Greek, Italian or Portugese. Change the gender of his targets and there is the frightening potential that this is me in 50 years.

They don't know who he is but they know this - he's definitely strange and a possible danger to local women.
Toronto Police have issued a warning about a pervert they believe is behind a series of increasingly strange sexual assaults.

He comes up to his victims and introduces himself. He then offers to shake their hands.

But when the unsuspecting ladies good naturedly offer him theirs, he refuses to let go. He then kisses the startled females on both cheeks, licks their necks, claims he's their boyfriend and then leaves hurling numerous obscenities at them.

Plumber ass

2006-06-12T12:25:00.000-04:00

Normally, one would be happy at the prospect of having an impromptu day off, especially on a Monday. This is what has happened to me today. However, I would much, much rather be at work.

Firstly, my co-workers make me happy and I look forward to seeing them. I also like to work on something then surf the web, work again, grab a bite, and so on. Adding to this, I have spent a large amount of time at home this weekend and could use an out.

Yoda has been fairly innocuous the past few days, so I can't complain about that. However, she is incredibly impatient and dramatic. We have had a problem with the plumbing outside which was manageable... but Yoda has flipped out about it. You would think that she was protesting some serious human rights violation like apartheid, but no, it's essentially a leaky hose. She insisted that I call a plumber because I'm useless with these things.

I woke up early to greet him and give Yoda's orders. He called at about 10 to tell me that he was lost whilst he was right around the corner, but I was intrigued by his voice and forgave him. At this point, I was fantasizing about a hot bimbo being in my house... Then, an hour passed and he was still lost. I could practically see his truck. Total turn off.

When he finally got here at noon (!), I expected him to simply fix the leak, leave and I could go to work. But no. Yoda suddenly discovered 65,873 plumbing problems and this (incidentally) ugly dumb-ass will be here all day.

Really, couldn't he at least be blowable? Or at least, could I have a basic understanding of why he is still here? Yoda's gone to nap and I'm hilariously confused by everything. I just keep picturing him drowning in the pool while I think he's simply plugging a leak. Maybe I'll push him in...

La la la

2006-06-09T02:20:00.000-04:00

I'm back...

Much has happened, but it essentially comprises useless details. Nothing of note has transpired. I've been back at work since Monday, albeit in a strange mental state... I've hung out with the Boyf who is tremendously beautiful, JR came back from Vancouver with much the same thoughts of the place that I had when I visited in 2000.

Mostly, I've been feeling very tired, which must be related to my feelings of blah. I think I'm in serious need of a break in routine. Now.

Ummm... about that terrorist plot... ? Nothing could ever make me that angry. People need to calm down.

Sorry, y'all

2006-06-06T14:50:00.000-04:00

It's been a while. My allergies and stress have had me really testy (I love that word) and tired lately. I'll be posting more regularly very soon. Hope you are all well.

Ooooooooooooo

2006-06-01T12:04:00.000-04:00

I totally have a hate on for everyone today. Even you. Sorry, but it's true.

Le mariage

2006-05-29T22:10:00.000-04:00

Everything yesterday was perfuck. Everything. Well, except the moment in the ceremony when I got all confused with the switching of their crowns... (it's a Greek thing). Tenis was stunningly beautiful. The only time she cried was when she spoke about me and I found that to be a tremendous honour to our relationship. When I handed her off to the Hub (he's not a Beyoncé anymore!), she yelled out my name and wanted a filaki which means kiss in Greek. All the stress and mayhem leading up to yesterday was totally worth it when I saw her happiness.

Everyone I spoke to mentioned that it was the most beautiful wedding they had attended. Of course they would say that, but I genuinely believe that everyone had a really great experience. The food was delish, the venue was outstanding and there was nothing ostentatious or pretentious about it. Also, there we many people from out of town and since the weather has been fab, they got a fantastic Toronto experience.

I became intensely emotional for numerous reasons: my father's absence, my sister's imminent absence, concern for my mom, etc.. Walking her down the aisle especially threw my emotions into chaos. All of this made it impossible for me to comfortably make a speech, which Tenis was fine with. Instead, I toasted the newlyweds and our families and invited everyone to speak to me individually if they wanted.

All in all, it was a fantastic day... absolutely beautiful and tasteful. Hello- I was a consultant, so of course if would be ideal. I look gorgeous in a tux.

I'm a happy boy and relieved that it's over.

T- One Day

2006-05-27T17:01:00.000-04:00

My sister's wedding is tomorrow. My fear of public speaking has increased exponentially in the past couple of days, but I think I'll manage with the speech. Yesterday at the rehearsal, I seriously had to focus on keeping it together when I walked her down the aisle. As much as I may gripe about her annoying habits, I love that girl enormously. Nevertheless, I will feel a great sense of relief when this is all over.

Europe, I hardly knew you

2006-05-24T11:31:00.000-04:00

I love visiting Europe. However, there are moments, as this clip will illustrate, when Europe bewilders me. What I find even more fascinating is the aura of cultural superiority that Europeans maintain vis-a-vis Canada. Now, I know that Eurovision is seen by many in the UK at least as a hilarious contest, but I am quite sure that our Lithuanian friends found absolutely zero irony in their ridiculous performance. It's totally cringe-worthy, folks. Enjoy.

ADDENDUM: This reminds me of another fantastic European performance.

Ro-manic

2006-05-22T03:58:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow, since it's Victoria Day and all, there will be fireworks going off across the city. Très exciting. I have demanded that the Boyf and I partake in one of the big displays because he has been absolutely obsessed with his new flat lately. This has meant that we have spent the bulk of the past three (!) weeks holed up at his place while he shifts furniture mere centimetres. I have heard "does this look better over here?" at least 896 times. After his interior design / handyman frenzies, he is tired and boring. Dry humping on his couch is not cutting it in the romance/sex department and I think we need an external stimulus to help snap him out of his OCD. What could be better than an evening picnic on the beach with a strategically placed towel and fireworks going off over our heads... heads that hopefully will be getting, not going, off? Or at minimum heavily making out. He's excited at the prospect as well. Sounds like a winner to me.

BTW, isn't that a beautiful pic of Toronto?

Cocktail, Cocktease, Cocteau

2006-05-19T15:14:00.000-04:00

I ordered a book on Jean Cocteau the other day and it arrived this morning. I think everyone should know who this man is... truly one of the most interesting figures of the 20th century. He was a poet, filmmaker, novelist, reformed opium addict, essayist, dramatist, illustrator and artist. Plus, he was openly gay in 30s. And, he helped numerous people he judged to have talent pursue their passions. He completely lived a full life on his terms and was totally immersed in creativity.

I've often thought that homos are disproprtionately artistic (it's not just a stereotype) because of the psycho-social conflict some experience towards their sexuality and/or because their art becomes a surrogate for biological procreation by creating a piece of themselves that will outlive their mortal selves. Well, that and the more cohesively integrated "feminine" and "male" aspects of humanity that homos frequently to possess. Genet and his theories...

To wrap it up... Jean Cocteau: An all around model citizen in Genetland.

I don't want to speak

2006-05-16T12:26:00.000-04:00

My sister's wedding is less than two weeks away and I haven't really started writing my speech. I am procrastinating because I deeply dislike public speaking. Ideally, my speech would be three words long or, I would make it from the bathroom with my disembodied voice beaming into the dining room like God. I have a vague idea of what I want to say, but it really is time to get cracking here. Ugh.

Sloganeering

2006-05-15T11:45:00.000-04:00

Is it just me, or have ads become less and less subtle about the subtextual use of sex in their slogans. Two examples:

Charmin Toilet Paper: "Best for Bear Bottoms"
Dr. Pepper: "Get Berried in Cream"

The Charmin one especially is absolutely fantastic and could very well be referring to me.

Introducing...

2006-05-13T11:21:00.000-04:00

... my new fuck. This is Paul Robinson, England's goalkeeper for the World Cup. I think. Who cares? LOOK AT HIM. Looking at him, I could have just populated a small country, but instead I'm just sticky all over. Mmmmmmmmm......... This makes me very excited about my upcoming visit to England. If this is what I can look forward to, I'm going to come back in 17 satisfied pieces.

Saturdays make me pensive and musical

2006-05-13T10:23:00.000-04:00

I sometimes toy with the idea of breaking up with the Boyf. Although I love him and feel deeply connected to him, I occassionally long for something new. This feeling isn't really concrete but more fleeting and transient. When I really think about it, I would never trade the emotional intimacy we have for anything. I would also dread "dating".

A song by Final Fantasy (I love this "band" so much) perfectly delineates the trials of contemporary dating. It may seem pessimistic, but I think it is mostly apt. Despite our loneliness, we find a million ways to complicate relationships and further our insecurities. When I hear this song I am happy that I have the Boyf and all the people that I love in my life and I also think that humans are very stupid, sad and small animals that waste loads of energy and time on garbage. The song is called Arctic Circle (click to listen). Here are the lyrics:

She drives a little white car to the seminar on Modern Romance
Possible possible ideas for a date include... a shooting range
And her chest is full to bursting with thoughts of an evening
Nobody nobody nobody will ever know her longing
She's got a heart that will never melt
She's got a heart that will never melt

Shields up! Shields up! Bar the door, and keep your dukes up!
Tell lies, tell dirty lies, tell diggory lies, until you're lying in his bed

He has a tendency, a tendency to fall for shining eyes and baby fat
But the quarry don't share his taste for Anne McCaffrey
And he dresses alright but the conversation is wrong, all wrong
Nobody nobody nobody will ever know his longing
He's got a heart that will never melt
He's got a heart that will never melt

Shields up! Shields up! Bar the door, and keep your dukes up!
Tell lies, tell diggory lies, tell chiggery lies, until you're lying in his bed

Now you can endure the fear now you can endure the hell
Now you can endure the lies now you can endure the fear

Ass from the past

2006-05-12T12:19:00.000-04:00

For the past month or so, I have been getting phone calls from a former... something of mine... can't quite call him a boyfriend, but he wasn't just a hump either. His name will be Lusto. His recent reappearance has been mildly traumatic. We parted on bad terms two years ago and I don't want much to do with him, but I am curious to see him and I have always been very attracted to him.

Lusto and I go way back, back to high school in fact. He was a hooligan skater and hasn't really changed much since then, except that now he's a carpenter as well. We met up again a few years later and had a sexual and emotional relationship that was incredibly convoluted, lasting nearly 5 years. All the while, Lusto was engaged to a woman and I think might still be. Lusto was also a tormented soul who began abusing drugs. Nasty drugs. Not a good scene. It was a dramatic relationship, full of surreal adventures. I should share some sometime.

The last time I saw him was the night I met the Boyf. At that point, I had had enough of his shenanigans and my lust for him had dwindled as well. I haven't thought of him all that much since then. Until now, that is. Now, I must decide if I meet up with Lusto or leave well enough alone. It seems like a simple decision, but that boy does something to me... it's like witchcraft, I tells ya...

Queen of Random

2006-05-11T13:38:00.000-04:00

I love Queen West, the whole lengthy stretch of it. Probably always will. Even the hipsters don't diminish my love for it. There are very few places on Earth where a large elephant and Adidas would be casually suspended above the sidewalk for no apparent reason. Conceptual art, perhaps? I just appreciate the randomness of it. And what is that coming out of the elephant's ass? A saxophone? How 80s! Hopefully, he ate Kenny G.

I know that in some places, sneakers are hung on electrical wires above a crack-house to denote its presence to clients, but this doesn't seem to be the case here. Unless crack dealers have gotten really creative and have taken the elephant as their new inconspicuous logo. Trunk... snorting drugs...? I'm really going off on a tangent here ...

Photo courtesy of blogTO.

Prediction

2006-05-10T18:47:00.000-04:00

Environment Canada says that Southern Ontario will enjoy a hot, dry summer this year. I can live with that. Let's just hope that they are right and we don't get a bullshit summer... Remember that one year when it rained EVERY SINGLE WEEK-END? That was cruel.

That is as profound or interesting I will get today.

I've got male

2006-05-09T14:49:00.000-04:00

Today, I received the latest issue of BUTT Magazine in the mail... Very exciting. BUTT is published in Amsterdam and combines sex and culture in a, let's say, spunky way. Genet likes. It bills itself as a "fantastic magazine for homosexuals" and I couldn't agree more. It makes me think of the not-so-distant past, when homo culture was underground and subversive. In this issue alone we learn about: Julian Ganio (an older-man loving nightclub enthusiast and designer... more on him later + he's the guy on the cover above), artist Bjarne Melgaard's drawings of faggy chihuahuas, an outdoorsy self-sucker from Tennessee and much, much more. Plus, there are lots of nude shots. And it's printed on pink paper. Oh, and their website has a personals section called Buttheads... Sadly, there are few Torontonians to be found and I have the misfortune of knowing one of them. His photograph makes me laugh because he is an idiot and it even comes across in only two-dimensions.

Julian Ganio is not an idiot. I totally have a crush on him, initially because he's a hottie, but after reading the piece on him, he came across as smart, relaxed and interesting- three very attractive qualities. He runs a club night in London... and I'm going to London in August. I want at least a kiss. Too bad I'm not 50, 'cause we would totally be together.

Name Change

2006-05-08T15:14:00.000-04:00

You may remember me mentioning my co-worker Hormonster earlier on the blog. She had a baby in December and now her nickname no longer applies. So, her new name is Rubella.

I bought Rubella's baby a little gift yesterday as Kaseri and I are going to visit her tomorrow. It's an adorable jumper made by... Harley Davidson? Yes, I know it's random, but it added to the cuteness of the outfit.

Hope that all of you beauties are well.

Genet IS a winner! He really is!

2006-05-07T17:51:00.000-04:00

Went for a spot of shopping today at Winners. I got 6 shirts. This is quite a feat for me because I'm a discerning motherfucker, hence I rarely have the patience to shop. Today, however, I was on a roll. Let me just say that the shirts looked so good that I started dry humping and frenching the changing room mirror and was asked to leave. I joke, but barely. Anyhow, $200 later and I feel like a new man. Just $200 for 6 shirts! Simple pleasures are the way to go, peeps.

The case for optimism

2006-05-06T08:56:00.001-04:00

THE NOISE OF CARPET
Stereolab

I hate to see your broken face
this world would give you anything
as long as you will want to

I hate your state of hopelessness
and that vain articulateness
your loser-type wreck wanna-be
not a pretty sight really
in another world it'd be funny

I hate to see your broken face
a lazy life of fatal waste
of fashionable cynicism
the poison they want you to drink
oh no man that's too easy

we weren't talking bout happiness
apply your leading potential
to be useful to this planet
the world would give you anything
as long as you will want to

There were no "good 'ole days". That was childhood- or more accurately, our memory of childhood. It's over. It wasn't a cohesive, universal historical era, it was a certain period in all of our individual lives. For the majority of us, our introduction to life is gentle. We are given a certain amount of time to enjoy ourselves in blissful quasi-ignorance while we almost imperceptibly begin to learn how to function within ourselves and with the various types of people we will inevitably share the planet with. Then, we begin to evolve into full-fledged, complex individuals whose past and present shape our future. For those of us living in pluralistic, democratic societies, this process is virtually boundless. In general, if you're a decent person without malicious intent, you can do pretty much anything you want. And it is this very fact that allows me to be a realist and simultaneously cautiously optimistic about our world.

Undoubtedly, the world has become more complex than it was, say, in 1650. Yes, we have developed the capacity to destroy the planet relatively easily. However, I think it is important to note that a for someone living in the 17th century, the world was an infinitely smaller place in every way- the physical "world" for the average person was essentially their immediate vicinity perhaps more importantly, their psychological world was largely pre-determined, through religion, class, gender, etc..

The fact that we have created a rather precise vocabulary of self-definition is a beautiful thing. Being a homo, I am intimately aware of this and am conscious of the fact that the word homosexual did not exist until the 19th century. My sexual identity is not confined to a sexual behaviour, but rather, informs multiple aspects of my being. Same with my Greek-Canadian heritage and the million other things that constitute me. The fact that we can now create, shape and determine our selves is enormously important to me.

The world has always had a shitty side. Our age is no different, but the stakes are higher. On an individual level, however, humans have never had it this good. When we think of the past, we are primarily relating to it through notable "events" and consequently, become distanced from the mundane aspects of daily life. The truth is that much of society hasn't changed that much since the dawn of civilization. However, we now have the knowledge, resources, numbers and mentality to see beyond survival and strive towards betterment. Again, this is where the optimism arises- if you don't like something, try to change it, remove yourself from it, ignore it or whatever. The fact that we have choices is hugely important. The fact that we collectively know enough about the world to be able to discuss complex issues is also hugely important.

Life before the 20th century was not fun. The 20th century brought both horror and greatness. I think that the good outweighed the bad. In saying this, I recognize that I am speaking from a Western point of view, but alas, this is the only view I can say I know.

Basically, I am very happy that I can create my identity on my terms, that I live a largely healthy and comfortable life and that I am aware of the general state of the human race. I think that is much more preferable to being an illiterate peasant toiling incessantly to merely survive and having an entire planet doing the same thing in largely isolated pockets.

Like the lyrics above say I'm not talking about happiness and we are all a mess, personally and collectively. But at least we know that there is a personal and a collective and that they are messes. Truly, "knowing is half the battle". I cannot believe that I seriously quoted GI Joe, but he's spot on. And he'd probably be hot if he were human.

Attention Brits

2006-05-05T15:09:00.000-04:00

Last night, I learned that my summer trip to Angleterre is going to incorporate some business meetings in London. This is fantastic news. Although the industry I work in employs large numbers of nippledicks, there are also many very cool people. The hope is that I can do the business lunch thing at restaurants I couldn't hope to afford on my own, meet said cool people and charm them into taking me out for a night on the town.

I'm willing to pimp myself out at the best of times and especially when travelling. And even more so in England... I've spent enough time there to be seriously apprehensive about the cost of everything in that country. So, for any Brits out there, you can have my ass/whatever in return for a memorable meal and/or conversation/night out... or even a Whopper, really. You'll enjoy it. I have references.

In all seriousness (and I know this may make me sound slightly immature), I find the idea that I am sort of going on a "business trip" cool.

I promise not to use the word cool in any context in the next 5 posts.

NOTE: My next post will see me waxing philosophical. Stay tuned.

Ah! Ah! Ah! Would you like tzatziki on that neck?

2006-05-04T14:33:00.000-04:00

The man that owns the deli across the street is genuinely nice, especially considering how frantically packed the place gets. However, he is also the perfect illustration of what I meant when I said that Greeks can have evil eyes. His eyes are so deep-set that they look like tiny embers in a very large cave. He is slightly hunch-backed and almost always grumpy, with the requisite Greek accent. All these factors have led us to ingeniously name him Count Souvlakula.

So, no great insights in this post, just a random observation... I'm still light-headed from the illness, so give me time to fully recover.

By the way, next time you're at a Greek resto, ask for malakia sauce instead of tzatziki... guaranteed laughs.

Illness induced boredom continues

2006-05-03T15:36:00.000-04:00

I was possibly a bit ambitious in going to work today. Around noon, I started feeling wonky, but had finished working through my pile of paperwork and was outta there by 2. It is such a gorgeous day that I was tempted to head over to Kensington Market instead of heading home... it's my favourite part of the city. For those non-Torontonians, it's a neighbourhood of narrow streets crammed with shops selling everything. I could have grabbed a coffee at the corner hut, wandered around in the sun, picked up some vintage clothes... whatever. It's just the perfect neighbourhood to hang out in on a day like today.

But, I seriously felt crap- so abnormally crap, in fact, that I haven't been horny in days. So, instead, I am in a dark basement, swathed in blankies and writing this. Boring.

I need to take transit more

2006-05-02T14:15:00.000-04:00

Somebody programmed the electronic scrolling display on-board some GO trains (local commuter trains in the Toronto area) to read "Stephen Harper eats babies". One passanger that actually worked with Harper told a newspaper: "I worked with Stephen Harper for five years and never once did he, in that time, eat a baby".

Bobby-Jo Saved Me

2006-05-02T12:39:00.000-04:00

Still at home and vey bored.

I did watch one entertaining show last night which explained what 'the rapture' is. Apparently, upwards of 70 million Americans (and many others, of course) believe that if they accept Christ into their hearts (read: are "saved"), they will be beamed up to heaven and spared the 7 year reign of the Anti-Christ. You could be a murderer (not sure about gay), but as long as you've got a bit of Jesus in ya, you're OK. That sentence sorta rhymed. The rest of us heathens will be ominously 'left behind'. Unsurprisingly, a large number of these mystics are also Christian fundamentalists. There is no reference to this rapture in the Bible, mind you, but that's irrelevant even though I genuinely have never heard so many people interpret the Bible or any other text as literally as these peeps. And their interpretation is rigid and immature. It would be funny if they weren't as politically powerful as they are. Actually, it's still funny.

In news closer to home and of a far more practical nature, Harpoon's first budget comes down today. Let's hope that he isn't a total idiot.

Gnarls Barkley - Crazy

2006-05-01T18:58:00.000-04:00

I am loving this song and the video makes it even better.

Good Luck

2006-05-01T13:16:00.000-04:00

Kudos to all the protesters in the States today. Maybe this will allow the reality of the immigration situation in the US be heard through all the hyperbole. While I may not be American, it is obvious to any logical person that moves to make these illegal immigrants felons is implausible, ignorant and cruel.

On the Genet front: still sick, still sleeping. But, I just got a call from some guy that found my phone! I will happily give him a thank you blow. Yay!!!

Ugh

2006-04-30T15:42:00.000-04:00

I'm sick, peeps. Feeling tremendously gross. On the upside, I haven't slept this much in ages. Good night.

Back in black

2006-04-27T16:21:00.000-04:00

So the funeral was today. And it was... a funeral. The post-burial meal was fantastic. I always come away from Greek events with the following observations:

we are primarily a very short race... quite hobbit-like
Greek women incessantly whisper into each other's ears
crying is a competitive sport
frighteningly, many Greek men do not age very well
a hot Greek guy can send me into a tizzy
some Greeks have the friendliest eyes you will ever see, while some have evil, deep-set eyes that seem to reflect Satan
Orthodox services are way too long... the chanting causes a simple syllabel to last 5 minutes
people get offended when you can't remember who they are, even if you last saw them when you were shitting and pissing in their lap (of course, I'm referring to being a baby here)

Now, it's nap time and then, I head over to the Boyf's new place to "help" him paint (read: sit on the floor, drink and watch while he paints shirtless- yum).

Shall we dance?

2006-04-25T14:03:00.000-04:00

Apparently, there is some crazy-ass nightclub opening up in Toronto soon. Called Circa, the concept sounds like it could be loads of fun- it aims to bring the city's partiers and art community within a unique space. If the music's good, I'm game. The "Bathhouse Bar", 15-foot hanging hippos with strobe lights and conveyor belt of robots seem like highlights.

I haven't been to a club in ages, but not because I am adverse to the idea... I just find that the mood strikes me randomly and when nobody else wants to go. It's supposed to open May 21 with DJ Tiesto. Could be interesting...

The Drama

2006-04-22T13:53:00.000-04:00

First off, a shout out to all the Orthodoxxx peeps who celebrated Easter this past weekend... Now , the drama.

The other day, the Boyf and I decided that we were going to have a BBQ at his place. So, I headed over to his place at about 7:30. However, when the cab turned the corner onto his street, I was greeted by about 7 cop cars and was told that his street was on "lockdown" and I simultaneously received a text message from him that simply read "911". I couldn't go to his place and he was ordered to stay in his house. Why, you ask? BECAUSE THERE WAS A HOME INVASION HAPPENING IN THE HOUSE NEXT TO HIS. He could hear it. It could have been my baby getting the beats!

With my dinner plans put on hold, I went to a pub nearby and waited for the violence next door to stop. No less than 5 ETF (Emergency Task Force, aka SWAT Team) cars flew by, sirens wailing and all. After about an hour and a half, I was able to go to his place and we continued with our BBQ plans. The Boyf's area is by no stretch a "bad" part of town, but I am glad that he found a place to move into for May 1st (this was planned for before the dramatic events). Oh... the neighbour's were slapped around, but are fine. I have to say, though, they are a very weird couple and I'm kind of not surprised that something like this happened to them... in fact, I forbade the Boyf from looking in their direction months ago as I thought they were mental.

To add to the drama, my uncle passed away on Saturday, meaning that the week will be chock-a-block with wailing Greek ladies. Death is seriously not fun and has to stop making an annual appearance in my family.

Hope y'all are well and healthy and happy.

Coming this May

2006-04-21T17:44:00.000-04:00

The wording of this poster seems like pure Quebecker to me, but who cares when the image is so beautifully Canadian?

Not really in the mood to post. Had some dramatic moments a couple of days ago that are hilarious/disturbing, but I'll fill y'all in later.

Well, it is spring after all...

2006-04-19T13:13:00.000-04:00

... but I still should calm down the horny posts. So, instead, I will jot down some (non-sexual) things that I currently love:

the smell of fresh dill
pistachios
Islands new album Return to the Sea - at least on first listen
the idea that I am going to see Scary Movie 4 tonight
the beginning of my loft search
Toronto's (film and other) festival season starting
having a pint on a patio on warm spring nights
saying "Kimmy Gibbler" over and over again

I could use 'le petit mort' right now

2006-04-18T12:22:00.001-04:00

The Fraunch call an orgasm le petit mort, or 'the little death'. Seems rather appropriate considering that it does feel like a little taste of heaven, non?

At the moment, my balls are full to brimming, lounging around my knees and needing release. I was interrupted mid-wank last night and had to stop the party and haven't had the chance to re-start it since, resulting in a ferocious case of blue balls. Now, my groinal friends hurt to the touch.

I'm reminded of my favourite (if that's possible) case of blue balls.

Picture it... Leeds, England... 1998...

I went on a couple of dates with a guy that I met at the Leeds Mr. Gay UK pageant (I kid you not). We met when I pushed him into the centre of the dancefloor when the host asked if any audience member wanted to become a contestant. He was from Wakefield but was in town visiting his gay identical twin (see, it is genetic) in Leeds and was staying with him. I stayed with them and we were both very drunk. He clearly was uncoordinated when under the influence and was doing everything wrong, which made it impossible for me to jizz. Blue balls set in and I became furious. I may have sort have hit him. I fell asleep for a while, woke up, found him in the living room and apologized by giving him a blow... except it wasn't him... it was his brother. Very confusing. We didn't really see much of each other after that. Mind you, I did receive a letter from him about six months later back home in Toronto... Atrocious handwriting and very disturbing grammatical errors...

Cleveland - The Finale

2006-04-17T11:03:00.000-04:00

As predicted, the dinner was boring. However, Yoda 2 (the Beyoncé's mother) is a fantastic cook and whipped up a delicious pork in mushroom sauce which made me ecstatic. The woman is seriously off-kilter though. First, she was trying to convince me to get American citizenship which (a) I have no inclination to do, (b) is a bit more complex than telling the US authorities that Beyoncé's mommy wants me to and (c) what would be the reason? Anyhow, shot that one down. Then she was telling me that some mystical figure gave her "secret" knowledge that the Vatican is hiding from us... She would not share this "information" with me, however, because I am not a "true believer". Umm... I think she meant that she just read The DaVinci Code, like everybody else on the continent. Despite her weirdness, she is a lovely woman.

Day 3 of the trip was almost entirely inconsequential, except that I saw an enormous beluga of a man fall - two tumbles in one weekend!

We headed home at about 4:30 and were in Toronto by 9. Not bad.

Oh, I almost forgot ... the mens of Cleveland. There were quite a few hotties. I'm not sure if it was the areas I visited, but many, many people had a very uniform preppy look that got increasingly tedious as time went on. I'm sick to death of crew-cuts, sandals, khakis and dress shirts. I suppose it is the all-American look, after all. The bartender at the hotel, however, was super-hot, but sadly, not up for it...

Cleveland Part 2

2006-04-15T15:19:00.000-04:00

We spent the afternoon in "Little Italy" which, compared to the one I'm used to, is super miniscule- as in 10 shops. But it was really cute strip and the sun is shining. Cleveland is much nicer than Buffalo, at least by my criteria. The part of downtown we are staying in is strangely void of people- no pedestrians, nothing. However, there are a couple of streets a bit outside our immediate area that seem to have some life. Downtown Toronto is like an enormous blob that contains many amorphous neighbourhoods. The impression I get is that the neighbourhoods here are physically seperate and sometimes quite far apart from each other.

Another thing... from the TV to billboards to the number of churches, it is clear that religion is way cooler here than it is back home.

Sadly, nothing very eventful happened today. Except the Beyoncé's mother fell and I almost choked trying to contain my laughter. She is a kind woman, but a bit nuts... in a good way.

We're having dinner tonight at Tenis and the Beyoncé's apartment. I predict I will be bored.

Cleveland Part 1

2006-04-15T01:07:00.000-04:00

Not much to say, really, as we just recently arrived at the hotel and I'm getting ready for bed. All I've seen of Cleveland is darkness and office building lights.

However, I always get freaked out when crossing the border. First I get needlessly apprehensive when the passports get inspected and the usual questions are asked. I have nothing to fear, but I get nervous.

Then I am always fascinated that crossing a thin, invisible line in the Niagara River separates so much difference. Contrary to popular belief, the US and Canada are not identical. There are vast difference- the infrastructure of the cities, the attitudes of the people, the way things look and the general vibe of the place.

Four examples, all in Buffalo. A roughneck came up to my rolled down window and in a menacing/desperate way pleaded for me to throw out my cigarette so that he could smoke it- not an unsmoked cigarette, but the one in my hand. Knowing that guns are cool down here, I threw it on to the ground and lit another one. Then I developed a romantic notion that this was some kind of abstract kiss- our lips touching via a smoke. Much more likely, he was a creepy guy who was vaguely intimidating and at some level wanted exactly what I had. Second, a couple driving in front of us threw out their half full (or empty) coffee cups out the window on the Interstate... this would be impossible in Canada and I found it totally shocking and immediately was convinced that the couple were both tremendous assholes. Third, there are billboards for lawyers every two seconds. Fourth, sidewalks are not very popular and are sometimes more like very narrow footpaths. One more, politeness seems to impress people here.

I must admit, though, there is a beautiful, grandiose 1920s building in Buffalo that is impressive. Apparently, there is a lot of great architecture there, but it doesn't intrigue me enough to want to visit.

Another surprise is how quiet the area of downtown Cleveland we are staying at is on Friday night...

Anyhow, I'm off to bed. We'll see what Cleveland in the daylight has to offer.

Amerikkka

2006-04-13T14:18:00.000-04:00

I'm off to the US of not very Gay this weekend...

Tenis, Yoda and myself are heading to Cleveland to visit with the Beyoncé and his entertainingly unhinged German mother.

I really wish that I could stay home instead, but I promised to go along. Note to self: don't promise anything anymore.

Let me introduce you to... Cicciolina

2006-04-12T15:09:00.000-04:00

Former Italian parliamentarian / hardcore porn actress, Cicciolina (meaning 'cudddles' in Italian) has recently demonstrated true selflessness and innovative thinking. She has offered herself, body and soul, to Osama bin Laden with the stipulation that he "put an end to his tyranny". She also made a similar offer to Saddam, which he obviously did not take her up on.

Here's a great quote from her:

"I am here not showing my breasts. Now I am speaking about poor people so it is not necessary—not because I don't have beautiful breasts ... even now. But it's not necessary showing because poor people have no interest in my breasts."

Good Times

2006-04-11T13:06:00.000-04:00

I am having a tremendously delicious lunch at the moment and I don't care if it makes me sound like I'm 6 years old. Mac + cheese with chopped up hot dog. Totally delish.

The Boyf cycled down to my office for a surprise visit. He brought some peanut butter cookies that he made along with a card. He can be such a sweetheart.

The lunch, the visit and the beautiful weather are all making today a good day. I like those.

Ummm... WHERE THE FUCK WAS I?

2006-04-10T15:07:00.000-04:00

I loved the first couple of seasons of Oz. I don't really remember the plot, but I definitely do remember the mens. Fucking delicious. However, the beauty in the photos above somehow escaped my horny gaze... I LOVE HIM. I love him more than I love the Boyf. Or Canada. Or Earth.

I may need a "special" bathroom break at some point today.

Spam-a-rama

2006-04-09T15:29:00.000-04:00

Have the nerds that send out spam finally run out of proper English names for their fake senders? Or, have they just developed a sense of humour? I received some junk mail today from one "Depression E. Nastiness". Am I the only one? Should I be taking this personally?

LED-signs rebel!

2006-04-06T12:56:00.000-04:00

Someone at U of T hijacked the LED display that construction workers use and turned it into an anti-car billboard. I like this kind of "activism"... It makes its point humorously. It's almost camp.

I don't drive myself, although I am in the process of taking lessons. I still don't like driving and would much prefer a chauffeur. Even a rickshaw would suffice... a rickshaw powered by a naked man of my choosing would be even better...

Blah

2006-04-05T14:27:00.000-04:00

I feel like shit today. I'm light-headed and nauseous and earlier, I broke into a bizarre sweat.

For the second consecutive day, I'm not in the mood to post. So, here... perhaps you will find this interesting.

Mr. Birthday

2006-04-04T14:38:00.000-04:00

I'm not in the mood to blog today, so instead, I will refer you to this BBC article which celebrates the 35th birthday of the Mr. Men series of books. Enjoy.

I think someone should come up with an adult version of these books... Could be hilarious.

... and then the Holy Water started boiling ...

2006-04-03T14:32:00.000-04:00

In a display of true commitment and fake religious conviction, Tenis' fiancé got baptised into the Greek-Orthodox Church. He's German... or rather, he was until Saturday. Now, he's one of us. He had to do this in order for them to get married à la grec, which our family kind of insisted upon solely for maintaining tradition.

The ceremony was hilarious. He was asked to "renounce Satan" and most strangely, he had to turn his head, blow three little puffs of air followed by three spittles. This was his symbolic "bye-bye" to Lucifer.

Then, shockingly, the preist brought us to an enormous cauldron. I kid you not. I imagined they would throw a bucket of water at him or something, but no, he had to climb a ladder and was dunked three times. I had a very hard time keeping it together.

After the baptism, the priest said to me: "Now it's your turn for us to marry you". I just replied that I really don't think that will be happening.

Office-mates

2006-03-30T11:04:00.000-05:00

I'm generally a social person, but for some reason, I have not warmed up to the fellow tenants in our office building. After 7 years, I have barely spoken to any of them, although they have become the cast in an imaginary play I am producing in my head. I see them every day and have developed a strange yet mute relationship with them that is totally one-sided.

While they are usually just forgettable, there are a couple of these people that stand out. They randomly appear every time I step out of our office, like some hideous Jack-In-The-Box. It's bizarre... they will literally surround me, Yiaourti and Kaseri whenever we go out for a smoke... but they never speak. Here are some of the crew (you've already met Waterloo):

RAT - This woman looks like a devious, lesbian rodent, especially when she wears her toque. She just stands there, creepily staring... very eerie.
STAIR-MASTER - This chick spends her entire day going up and down the stairs. I don't think she even works here. Her face has a constant pained look, as if she's about to burst into tears. I have to restrain myself from pushing her.
ARTISTIC PRIDE PARADE - This fellow is all teeth and thick-framed glasses. He looks like a three meter tall pine needle. But a very gay one. His lisp is so intense that it breaks glass. Once, he walked by me and mumbled "that'sssssssss sssssssssso crazzzzzzzzy" and I thought I was going to faint.
PODI - This means foot in Greek and refers to our friend's obsession with sandals. I have seen his feet at least 46,000 times. In reality, I would do him in an instant, but he's still annoying. He LOVES cars and motorcycles and I think he has 145 of each. Once, he was showing off his "Harley" to a co-worker and said : "You never touch another guy's bike... It's like a woman". In his favour, he is husky and has a couple of tats, so I don't mind looking at him as long as he doesn't speak.
MOROSE HAT - Totally stuck in '94. He's always brooding, as if Kurt Cobain's spirit moved in to his body. He seems like he is simmering with violence and is unbelievably pale... generally, a storm-cloud on legs.
SOPHIA LOWRENT - This one acts like a rejected member of Monaco's royal family. I don't think that she knows where she is.
SAD PERSIAN - He is a cook at the restaurant downstairs. His secret ingredient is tears. He is strangely endearing, like a donkey or a koala bear.

Retraction

2006-03-29T18:11:00.000-05:00

It seems as though I was wrong about Morrissey and humping. He is a poof after all, as evidenced by some lyrics from his new album:

And I am so very tired
Of doing the right thing
Dear God, please help me

There are explosive kegs
Between my legs
Dear God, please help me

Will you follow and know
Know me more than you do
Track me down
And try to win me?

Then he motions to me
With his hand on my knee
Dear God, did this kind of thing happen to you?

Now I'm spreading your legs
With mine in-between
Dear God, if I could I would help you

And now I am walking through Rome
And there is no room to move
But the heart feels free

Delicious. Sorry, 'bout that Moz. See, I told you the celibacy things was dumb. Welcome to Homoland.

Appropriate Poem

2006-03-29T11:35:00.000-05:00

The Boyf gave me this poem by my favourite Greek poet Kavafis (Cavafy) to mark the year anniversary of my father's death. It was a very good choice and I like it even without the meaning attached to it by the Boyf. I thought that I would share it with y'all.

Thermopylae
K. Kavafis (1903)

Honour to those who in their lives
have defined and guard their Thermopylae.
Never stirring from duty;
just and upright in all their deeds,
yet with pity and compassion too;
generous when they are rich, and when
they are poor, again a little generous,
again helping as much as they can;
always speaking the truth,
yet without hatred for those who lie.

And more honour is due to them
when they foresee (and many do foresee)
that Ephialtes will finally appear,
and that the Medes in the end will go through

.
Background:
In 480 BC, Xerxes led the Persians (Medes) and invaded Greece. The Spartan king Leonidas, in charge of 7000 Greeks, was ordered to cut the advance of the Persian army at Thermopylae (in central Greece), a narrow strip of land between the sea and impassable mountains. The Persian army, 250,000 strong, attacked twice and was forced to retreat, due to the fact that the passage was so narrow that they could not fully deploy their force. However, an avaricious local farmer, Ephialtes, led a force of Persian infantry through a mountain passage and next morning they appeared behind the Greek lines. Leonidas ordered the rest of the army withdraw, and held the passage with 300 Spartans. As a true Spartan, he chose death over retreat; all 300 Spartans, including Leonidas, died, but held the Persians long enough to ensure the safe withdrawal of the rest of the Greek army.

I used to love you, but it's slipping

2006-03-28T11:07:00.000-05:00

Oh, Morrissey... You have given me so much pleasure over the years. I was willing to overlook some of your stupidities, especially your frankly ridiculous celibacy. Your high-dramatics were charming. But now, you've lost me...

According to you, Canada has "placed itself alongside China as the cruelest and most self-serving nation." Of course, coming from someone who penned an album called Meat Is Murder, this is obviously about the seal cull. While I am not a fan of the hunt, I am finding the parade of foreign celebrities going ape-shit a trifle annoying. If seals looked like tarantulas, I suspect the outcry would be much more muted. Yes, it is a barbaric practice, however, I am not familiar enough with environmental reasons either for or against to make an objective judgment. I just know that it doesn't look very nice and I would prefer it not to happen.

But saying that Canada is the world leader of cruelty and greed is histrionics gone mad. Then this tidbit is just way out of line: "Construction of German gas chambers also provided work for someone - this is not a moral or sound reason for allowing suffering." Perspective, Moz... perspective. Morrissey, mon ami, your country is currently engaged in an illegal war that, three years on, continues to lead to thousands of human deaths. All for very dubious reasons. I guess nobody's perfect, eh?

So, sadly, I will not be seeing a Morrissey concert thanks to his boycott. Boo. He's been painfully hit-or-miss without Johnny Marr anyway. Maybe instead of playing Toronto, he could entertain the British troops in Basra? He should just be careful that some overly-enthusiastic soldiers (you remember our videotapped friends) don't gay-bash him after the gig... but wait... he's mysteriously not gay. Or straight. Or bi.

I'm going to go listen to The Queen is Dead now.

...

2006-03-27T13:03:00.000-05:00

It's a year to the day since my father died.

The amount of change in my life has been unreal and I was totally unprepared for it all.

A year later and my feelings about the whole things are still very confusing. The one certainty is that I miss him very, very much.

Not much else to say today, folks.

I thought you guys were my friends...

2006-03-26T01:01:00.000-05:00

Umm... not that I expect billions of people to frequent this crap-ass blog, but really folks, the lack of comments is just getting annoying. Apart from a couple of trusty readers, the rest of you pop in here, read this shit and potentially giggle. Regardless, it passes your time and does something for you. So... I'm doing something for you but as far as I know, you don't exist. Let's not beat around the bush... you're using me. So not cool, peeps.

It hurts.

Wouldn't I make an amazing Greek mother with the whole guilt thing? I know... I've had an incredible mentor for 29 years.