Category: Site-related

18 June 1999

Fine. Just fine.

1 April 1999: My April Fool’s page (which is no longer here because the search engines took it a wee bit too seriously), results in close to 100 happy, smiling email responses within 24 hours.

17 June 1999: In an interview on another site, I strip butt-ass nekkid for the whole friggin’ world to see, and almost no one has a thing to say about it.

If I were a more sensitive soul, I might be hurt by this (lack of) reaction, but I’ll just look on it as a cue to stick with the sarcastic writing and abandon that modeling career I’ve been fantasizing about for so long.

Dick now stuffed securely back into jeans. Where were we?

Hectic, nasty week. That is to say, I guess, that business is good. But a little sleep added to the mix might have been nice too. Credit the fine folks at PG&E with last night’s insomnia. They worked directly (and noisily) right outside my front window until well after midnight. Doing what? I’m not exactly sure.

And a hectic weekend coming up, with work, the possibility of meeting an email acquaintance for the first time, and one J’Tao in town. Not to mention that Simpsons marathon. There’s also the likelihood of accompanying Sarah on a quest for Vinnie Barbarino in San Mateo, which is a whole other story…

Right now I’m going to bed. Do not wake me for ten hours.

When the World Saw My Weenie

 

So I was going to babble on about how annoying I find the term “wellness” and about the new Sony Metreon complex in my neighborhood. Feel free to read what I’d completed so far.

But that was before. Before the world saw my weenie.

Those damned folks at Nightcharm. They were so nice. They interviewed me. They reviewed my site. They even put me on the cover. And then they turned around and a published a still photo from a personal home video that Pamela Anderson, Tommy Lee, Brett Michaels, Dr. Laura Schlesinger, and I made in 1994.

It had been such a special and private moment between the five of us. Brett sang “Talk Dirty to Me”. Dr. Laura was behaving in a strangely non-bigoted fashion. Tommy was tied up so he couldn’t hit anyone. And the stories Pam told about those lifeguards!

And now, Nightcharm has ruined it all for me. I may never listen to Poison or watch “Baywatch” again. I may cry.

Is anyone buying this? I didn’t think so. Oh well. I stand exposed…

It’s kind of fun, actually…

Cartoons and Interviews

There comes a point when you start looking forward to different sorts of amusement on the weekend. The hell with going out, getting drunk, and maybe picking up some freak. I’m planning to park myself in front of the TV for the Simpsons marathon on UPN44-Digital45-Cable12 (catchy moniker, no?).

Why is it that “The Simpsons” never gets old, even when repeated three times a day?

And then there’s “South Park”. Now there’s something that got old really fast. All the same, there’s something hard to resist about the title of the new movie: “Bigger, Longer, and Uncut”. Hmmm…

Seems I have absolutely nothing of any importance to babble about today, so I’ll stop. Maybe I’m just “all talked out” after doing a very, ummm, “revealing” interview for another web site yesterday. I’m such an exhibitionist. But more about that when it goes live. Maybe. Depends on how remorseful (or embarrassed) I feel…

For now, I’m going to do some work, read the paper, laugh at whatever Willie Brown had to say today (about anything…it’s all funny…), and maybe watch a nice porn video before going to bed.

Yay! Summer!

It’s freezing cold, windy, and foggy. Summer has arrived in San Francisco. I love it.

I can always tell a holiday weekend has arrived. The hits on the web site go way down starting by about 3:00 on Friday afternoon. And by Saturday evening, I’m drowning in spam. It’s a very predictable pattern, repeated over and over throughout the year.

All in all, it’s been a good weekend so far. Had dinner at Tad’s with Dan on Thursday night, followed by a relaxing drive through Bayview/Hunter’s Point (no irony intended). I crammed a lot of work into Friday so I wouldn’t have to think about it on Saturday and Sunday.

After a really fitful sleep of mildly disturbing dreams, I had Saturday morning coffee (OK…I had a Coke) at Brainwash with a gentleman from Todco (a non-profit which builds affordable housng South of Market) and discussed the ramifications of Loftomania.

And then it was off to the Doggie Diner for Sarah’s birthday burger, followed by a trek to The Attic, my favorite junk store in the Sunset. Sarah bought old postcards, and I scored two old San Francisco telephone directories (vintage 1962 and 1978). I can’t quite explain how excited I was to find these, and I really don’t expect anyone else to understand. I’ll expand on it later, but you’re allowed not to care.

Best discovery of the weekend is that Bringdown #5 is now available on a World Wide Web near you.

Feeling suitably bitter, I’m now about to go out in search of some memorable tourist dick to celebrate Memorial Day. Wish me luck…

Geekerage

It’s days like this which restore my excitement about the web. I rarely ever sit in front of the computer for hours randomly following links anymore, but today I did. Here are a few of my major starting points:

Yeah, I’m a nerd and I’m comfortable with that. This is the kind of stuff I read for entertainment. It’s the kind of stuff which got me excited about the web to begin with: obsessive information sites on obscure topics done by actual individuals with no corporate funding nor stock offerings to be seen.

I like to think I made my contribution to this field with Folsom Street in the 70s. And I’m working on a few more in my spare time, including a “Streets of San Francisco” page (on the TV series, not the actual streets) and some “then and now” photographs of certain cities.

This is self-publishing in its purest form: total narrowcasting which doesn’t attempt to reach everyone on the planet and doesn’t rely on slow-loading animations and other superfluous gadgetry to convey its message. These sites are about information, not flash. They’re about personal interests, not profit.

And Microsloth will probably never try to buy them out. Many of them, like Planet SOMA, have been sailing along in realtively low-tech bliss for years. Their creators don’t get paid to maintain these sites; they do it because they enjoy it. Here are a few which might be worthy of your attention:

Check ’em out on your way to whatever “dotcom” is having the most exciting IPO of the week…

Planet SOMA: It’s incrediburgable!

I’ve spent my entire Saturday doing some long overdue maintenance on the site. I didn’t plan it that way, but I just got started and couldn’t stop. There’s a little more to be done, but you can check out the re-structured Streets of San Francisco, including an expanded Neighborhoods section and new individual pages on restaurants and non-upscale places to shop.

In addition, I’m redesigning Folsom Street in the 70’s and adding some new content I’ve picked up via email. There’s more to come. I’ve also updated About Yer Humble Host ever so slightly.

Otherwise, I’ve spent the weekend giving HTML lessons to friends, eating lots of Indian food at my former boss’s going away (to Paris) party, and wondering just how long it takes for one’s virginity to grow back after not having sex for a while.

My biggest regret is the frozen pizza I had for lunch. My biggest surpise is that I haven’t turned on the TV or radio all day. My biggest embarrassment is that the phone has not rung. Not once…

I think the situation calls for a shower and a beer. Not necessarily in that order.

I’m off to brave Folsom Street on a Saturday night. If I’m not back in two days, it means I’m in jail for killing some idiot from the Marina or Walnut Creek who got in my way.

April Fool

Hee hee hee…

Fifty email messages and counting (which is by far a new Planet SOMA record) about yesterday’s April Fool gag (where I remade Planet SOMA in truly “gay” rainbow-laden style). It was fun. Y’know, it takes a lot of effort to design really ugly web pages. I’ve developed a new respect for those who can do it with a straight face.

I may, however, regret it as I spend Friday ANSWERING those fifty messages. Alas, everyone seemed to “get it” (a testament to the collective IQ of Planet SOMA fans), so there’s no hate mail to publish. But there’s still a few hours to go as I type this.

Recieved the above in the mail today (the REAL mail, with an envelope and a stamp and everything) from Jay. Alas, it was a day late for April Fool’s, but deserves a look anyhow. I guess I’m a real card-carrying homosexual now…

So I guess it’s back now to writing about whatever the hell Planet SOMA is REALLY about. Anybody with any clue what that might be is welcome to contact me. I’m not too sure anymore.

Maybe I’m just feeling blinded by all those animated rainbows…

Kvetching with Kmetko

So apparently I told the anchor of a daily nationwide cable TV show to “bite my ass” via email last night without even knowing who I was talking to at the time.

Before I headed out to the corner bar to celebrate my sexuality last night, I got this email message:

Not all gay people are as educated or sophisticated as you. High standards? Please forgive us, Mr. Snooty Britches. Far be it from me to assign blame, but aren’t you being just a tad self-important?

Celebrate, don’t denigrate. There’s room for all of us. You’re dangerously close to perpetuating the gay stereotype of homosexual cannibalism.

With all due respect, knock it off.

“Celebrate, don’t denigrate”? Give me a fucking break…

I’ll admit I was sort of amused by the “Mr. Snooty Britches” bit , but the “knock it off” bugged me, as did the fact that the poor soul couldn’t even tell me what specifically had pissed him off so much. So I replied, telling him “with all due respect, bite my ass”.

Little did I know, until Sarah pointed it out, that the name was a semi-famous one. A check of my access logs confirmed that I probably was indeed corresponding with the celebrity in question. Now that I know who he is, I’m even more honored to have annoyed him (and no, I’m not mentioning his name).

He wrote back, of course, as do most of the fluffy gay boys who are pissed that I don’t tow the Advocate-style “gay is great, gay is good” party line all the time. And, as usual, he was no more specfic the second time…just bitchier…

Of course, I probably deserved it for not being suitably deferential and for not knowing who the hell he was. Or for (gasp) stooping to criticism of some aspect of our “community”.

Naah. Fuck that. I’ll just look on it as a fun story to tell in bars. Besides, maybe I’ll get some extra hits when he sends all his WeHo clone buddies over to be horrified by my nasty attitude…

Three Years of Planet SOMA

Yer humble host in 1996…

Three years ago today was the official “grand opening” of Planet SOMA.

Needless to say, things have changed somewhat. All in all, it’s been an interesting three years. I’ve met interesting people, been interesting places, and actually forged a bit of a career out of this “web thing”.

Thanks to everyone who’s visited over the years, sent email of support (or dissent), hosted me on a road trip, consented to sleep with me, or just hung out with me in sleazy diners. And thanks to Trey for creating the first blatant infringement on Planet SOMA’s name and layout. My lawyers would be contacting him soon had I not foolishly offered blanket permission. Damned Southern charm…

For the past two years, I’ve unveiled some great new feature or design for “anniversary day”. No such luck this year, although I’ve been tweaking the design for a month or so (and am pretty much done for now) and I DID add that search engine last week.

So I’ll just say “thanks” again and hope you stop back by once or twice in the next three years.

(NOTE: The actual start date of Planet SOMA was 13 January 1996. 2 March was celebrated as the anniversary for the first few years because of some milestone I’ve since forgotten, maybe the addition of the hot counter.)

Housekeeping and Dream Whip

Dang. It sure is quiet in here…

OK, so everyone’s really sick of reading about my new adventures setting up housekeeping alone. No one cares that I now own my own vacuum cleaner for the first time since 1989. Everyone’s lost interest in my trendy new cookware and my new shower curtain and matching bath towels from Target. And everyone’s really pissed that I seem to have stopped answering email.

Too damned bad. That, and a disturbing amount of work, is about all that’s going on for me right now.

The highlight of my weekend was a shopping excursion with Sarah to the thrift stores and strange closeout warehouses of Redwood City. I bought Drano and forks and bowls. I deviated from the domestic theme by picking up this really great beat-up army jacket. I also found a cool mug which says “no smoking”. I fully intend to use it as an ashtray.

But the real find was the Arabic box of Dream Whip you see above. It’s comforting to know that if I ever find myself in the heat of the Middle East longing for instant non-dairy whipped topping, I’ll probably be able to find it.

Coming tomorrow: my hastily-composed Planet SOMA Third Anniversary Address. Coming the next day: more exciting stories of domestication, including a euphoric essay on my new chair.

Why yes, my life IS a bit tedious this week, thank you…