Category: Stupidity

Pride 2000

I’d like to announce the first annual San Francisco Brunette Chestnut Auburn Dirty Blond and Multi-hued Pride Festival. Members of the BCADBMH community from around the country will be participating to celebrate our pride in our pigmentation and our glorious brunette culture.

Several brunette bands (chosen for their hair color rather than their talent, of course) will be playing at the center stage. You can buy “I’m not a brunette but my boyfriend is” T-shirts along with miniature brunette pride flags just across the street in the Marketplace.

We expect a turnout of several thousand of our BCADBMH brothers and sisters, not to mention a few hundred supportive blondes and redheads. We anticipate a few protestors from the Ex-Brunette Ministries armed with Clairol, peroxide, and the like, but our security forces will keep them at bay.

The festival aims to be inclusive. There will be marchers from many individuals and groups who define themselves solely in terms of their hair color. Participants will include groups such as the PBBEG (Pacific Bell Brunette Employees Guild, PFAB (Parents and Friends of All Brunettes), QOHC (Questioning Our Hair Color) and the LGHBL (League of Gray-haired Brunette Lovers). Floats from several of San Francisco’s BCADBMH bars and nightclubs will also be featured.

So come on out. Celebrate your hair color and the fabulous music, art, and fashion which naturally spring from this inborn characterisitc. Show your stuff: hats are allowed, but not encouraged.

The festival is sponsored by Acronym Power, Inc.

Radomly Tuesday

I have to say this. I don’t believe that Steve Young’s retirement from the San Francisco 49ers is really so newsworthy as to merit consuming a good third of the 6:00 News yesterday. He’s a football player, for God’s sake, which makes him essentially nothing but an overpaid entertainment personality.

They didn’t give Joe DiMaggio that much airtime when he DIED, and he was even multi-talented. I challenge you to compare his Mr. Coffee commercials to Steve Young’s half-assed Toyota spots any day of the week…

More non-news: Sinead O’Connor is officialy a lesbian. I imagine she’ll stay true to her track record and approach this development just as annoyingly and self-righteously as she does everything else. Molly Ivins’ quips do more for progressive politics in any given single day than Sinead’s tortured whining will do in her whole lifetime. Why, pray tell, do so many of my fellow leftists feel that having any discernible sense of humor somehow detracts from their message?

Enough of this. I’m now being excited that, a week from today, my pal Duncan and I will be tooling down Highway 101 to Santa Monica to stay in a spiffy, expensive hotel by the beach. We’ll be doing other things too (I, for example, plan to be seducing several of The WB’s male stars), but the hotel is what I have a link to right now…

We may hit Fresno on the way back, but I’m not sure, as I’ve already done my laundry for this month. And if you don’t know what the two have to do with each other, you haven’t been reading long enough…

Besides, Fresno can’t be much hotter than San Francisco feels today. Second ugly heatwave so far this year. I am not enjoying this summer…

Stupid AT&T

I stepped outside a few minutes ago, almost got knocked over by the breeze from the bay, and thought “it’s chilly tonight”. The weather is normal again. I am happy.

This afternoon, I was not happy. I finally told AT&T to fuck off after being a long-distance customer since 1986. I’d been thinking of it for quite a while, mainly because of their erratic billing (bi-monthly? quarterly? hell, who knows?) and all their miscellaneous semi-hidden charges.

Today’s bill, though, was the last straw: they charged me $16.00 for a 20-minute call from Fresno to Greensboro for using 102880 (the method they pushed for so many years) rather than dialing their fucking toll-free number. I could have gotten a better rate using a pay phone owned by the Mafia. And, of course, none of their phone people were particularly helpful (and none would connect me with a supervisor) so I ditched them for Working Assets. Simple. Took 15 minutes, and now I get free ice cream for a year too…

It’s been a bad month for me and phones (not to mention other customer support issues). I’m probably on some 1-800 blacklist now, too; I have a pretty short fuse when I’m getting fucked over. Especially when I’m getting fucked over by idiots at some call center who may well be convicts for all I know.

And your day?

Some Idiot’s Foot

It started when I accidentally brushed against this guy’s foot with mine while standing in the back room of my friendly neighborhood sex bar. I realized I’d done it immediately and had already stepped away. I was about to utter “excuse me” when he whined in his annoying San Francisco perpetual faggot victim voice “you’re on my foot”.

Of course, I was already off his stinky little foot at this point anyway, but I finished my “excuse me” like a good, polite Southern boy. He just glared at me. I was thinking about how this happens to my poor, tortured foot about a dozen times every time I walk into a crowded bar without causing me a moment’s anguish. It sort of comes with the territory in bars, and especially in back rooms. You step on someone, you excuse yourself, they acknowledge, and you both get on with your lives.

Still, he kept glaring like I was some drunk (I wasn’t) sack of shit (I may have been). I looked at him and re-iterated “pardon the FUCK out of me, jackass” and walked away. I heard some whiny comment, and I turned around to tell him “welcome to the back room, where sensibilities occasionally get offended”. Then I wnet home.

Walking down Folsom Street, I started wondering why this had set me off so. Of course he was an idiot, but I’ve dealt with other idiots hundreds of time in the same bar. Why did I snap? And why do I seem to be doing it so often lately? I’ve done it at work, in the car, by email, or wherever I happen to be at the time.

I’m easily annoyed. This is not a major revelation. I’ve always been sort of an impatient grumpy kind of guy, but I usually manage to have a sense of humor about it. Why am I so damned irritable lately? Why am I overreacting to damn near everything?

From careful statistical analysis of my recent blow-ups, I’ve determined that what I’m doing is overreacting to other people who overreact to ME. I’m not sure what this might be a symptom of, but I know it could sure get me hurt if I don’t watch out…

Straight-acting?

Seems I’m a “somewhat feminine” Level 5 on the straight-acting scale. Mind you I still have no earthly fucking idea just what “straight acting” means, but at least I know that — whatever it is — I don’t do it very well. This is a terrific comfort to me and is comparable to my happiness that I’m apparently not great at “gay acting” either, whatever THAT is….

What I can’t figure out is this: what effect did having a T-shirt with a cartoon character on it have on my score? Does it matter if it was, say, Quisp rather than Quake?

These results, along with yesterday’s indicating that I’m a brown have convinced me that (a) I’m right in the boring average middle of just about any scale, and (b) that I should stop taking quizzes I learn about from Jonno’s site.

In other news, I’ve been asked to pose naked, to move the fuck to Cuba, and to apply for three more credit cards today. Interesting Monday. Yours?

OK, It Was Wells Fargo…

When banking goes horribly wrong. My bank, which shall remain nameless in an effort to thwart identity thieves and libel suits, has stolen $600 from my account and they won’t tell me why. I deposited two checks Thursday night. One of them was “adjusted” the next day. This could mean anything; I may have forgotten to endorse it or whatever.

The problem is that no one can tell me what the hell happened. The phone support people say that I’ve been notified “by letter” and that’s all they know. God knows when I might see this wondrous letter, and it’s a good thing I don’t have any checks pending which will require that money. Yet.

Guess which major bank I’ll no longer be using when this mess is finally cleared up? If I screwed up and didn’t sign the check, I understand that they needed to return it. But couldn’t they at least include a notation to that effect on my account record so the phone support people could tell me what the fuck was going on?

Anyway, I promised a fun update, right? Here’ are some well-timed songs which hit my mood just right then past few days:

  • While cruising an adorable long-haired boy in a porkpie hat and trying to steal his attention from someone else: “Pulling Mussels from a Shell” by Squeeze.
  • While getting a blowjob from the aforementioned boy in a semi-public place as the spurned one watches: “Jumping Someone Else’s Train” by the Cure.
  • While driving down East Belmont in Fresno: “Rock and Roll Fantasy” by the Kinks. Note that this is NOT the song of the same name by Bad Company, which would make no superlative list of mine.

Busy couple of days. Jim was here Thursday, looking for that ever-elusive affordable house in SF. We had dinner at the Tennessee Grill and drove around in lots of circles. Which is OK, because I like doing both of these things.

Lunch at Jim’s Diner on Friday (different Jim), and dinner with Dan and Jamie at Val’s in Hayward on Friday night (review coming soon). And then on Saturday, I went to Fresno to do my laundry. Uneventful trip, actually, but I took lots of pictures (soon), bought cheap cigarettes, and was surprised by how excited I was to be paying only $1.55 for regular unleaded gas.

OK, so it wasn’t such a fun update. But there was sex at least, albeit quick and cheap sex…

God Hates Idiots

Fred Phelps was scheduled to visit my home town today. Good old Fred. His antics have done more to help the cause of gay rights than any paid lobbyist could ever hope to accomplish. I renew my call to add him to the payroll…

The touch of anti-Semitism is a nice testimony, I might add, about the Inner Klansman which Fred and his merry band of Topekans face each morning (after their prayers, of course) when looking in the mirror. It’s refershing to see a group which realizes that if one aspires to complete idiocy, one must at least do so consistently.

Speaking of idiots with lousy websites, anyone visited the NRA page recently? I challenge you to find one news item which isn’t in Real Audio format. Not a text article on the whole site. Earth to gun-crazy freaks: the web and TV have not merged quite yet, thank God (even though God may hate gun control too for all I know)…

At least their site will probably cause numerous individuals not to join Charlton’s Raiders (Heston’s Heroes?), so there’s some hope…

Quoth God (through Charlton Heston): “Thou shalt not kill.”

Quoth Archie Bunker (speaking of bigots and idiots): “All scotch tastes the same. It all tastes like iodine.”

Quoth Yer Humble Host: “I hate scotch. God hates iodine. Charlton Heston may hate fags, but I don’t much care”

No, it didn’t make sense, but it sounded amusing while I typed it. Probably had something to do with the lack of sleep…

God Hates Web Designers

Krispy Kreme opens Tuesday night. I haven’t been quite this excited since I finally found fried okra in San Mateo a couple of months ago. Of course, several friends and I will be there tonight for some grand opening doughnuts. I thought about making this an officially-sanctioned Planet SOMA Non-event™, but I’m not sure exactly what time we’ll be there, so maybe not…

That said, maybe it IS time for another Planet SOMA Non-event™. The birthday thing was kind of fun, and I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Perhaps we could invade the Doggie Diner, or maybe the spacious and often-empty hoffbrau in Daly City. I’m thinking about Saturday 22 April as a potential date, using Jeff’s birthday’s an excuse. Of course, he’ll be in Greensboro at the time, but I think he’d want us to celebrate all the same. Thoughts welcome.

If you’re having trouble reading this, so am I…

We were speaking of inept web design a couple of days back. A case in point would be the piece of crap known as godhatesfags.com. You’d think these idiots would want as many people as possible to read their babbling, but badly-written stylesheets render much of the site illegible on a Mac at 832×624. I could only imagine it’s worse at a higher resolution. I guess ignorant wannabe Christians have a propensity toward ignorant wannabe web designers.

Maybe God hates screen fonts larger than 8-point too…

Time for The Brady Bunch. I’m not sure if it has God’s seal of approval or not, but at least you can read the credits.

Prop 22

If there’s anyone out there who can give me an acceptable answer to either of the following two questions, I’ll be very surprised:

  1. Just how, exactly, would extending the right of marriage to same-sex couples have ANY effect (positive or negative) on any existing heterosexual marriage?
  2. When discussing Constitutional law and human rights, what does it really matter what God or the Bible have to say about anything (or even what Confucius or The Great Pumpkin say, for that matter)?

Granted, they’re both more or less rhetorical questions and it would be hard to find an answer to satisfy me. But they’re the primary idiocies being used to defend the passage of California Proposition 22 next week.

Note that I’m not putting down God, the Bible, Confucius, or (heaven forbid) The Great Pumpkin here. I’m just stating that religious teachings are no more a basis for extending (or denying) human rights in this country than are the oft-cited “court of public opinion” or the idea that allowing more motivated couples to marry will somehow “weaken” the institution.

Ultimately, Proposition 22 will pass, it will be challenged in court, and (eventually) it will be overturned. You can’t vote on human rights in a public referendum and expect it to stick or to have a valid outcome. I doubt that plantation owners in South Carolina would have been chomping at the bit to outlaw slavery in 1860, had such a referendum occurred, for example.

Anyway, please don’t hesitate to vote simply because this referendum shouln’t be on the ballot and will be eventually declared unconstitutional. Vote no on 22. While you’re at it, consider voting no on 21 (for being just plain wrong) and on 23 and 27 (for being just plain silly). If you want to vote yes on something, go for 30 and 31.

I’ll skip the presidential candidates for now. Would that I could continue doing so in the future as well…

Death, Rain, Love, Hate, Etc.

Death:

My uncle died a week ago, followed by a third cousin I hadn’t seen (or really thought about, I confess) for 15 years or so. Once I’d finished thinking about the family, Charles Schulz passes on just as his final strip runs. And then tonight came “death night” in prime time, with a guest bimbo on “King of the Hill”, Maude Flanders on “The Simsons”, and Giardello on “Homicide: the Movie”.

Rain:

I love rain, and I try to enjoy it in the winter since it doesn’t rain here in the summer. Rain is probably my favorite weather, with dense fog a close second. But enough is enough, already. It essentially hasn’t stopped raining for four days. Forecast for next week: rain on Mondy, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

Things I love today:

  • Valentine’s Day candy is already being marked down.
  • Green Apple Books

Things I hate today:

  • Puddles. Everywhere.
  • The idiot in the Mercedes who came within six inches of hitting my car today while turning in front of me (I was going straight) from the INSIDE lane.
  • Nicotine addiction.
  • The bitch in the BMW who rode my ass all the way down Bayshore Boulevard when (a) she could easily have passed and (b) I was already doing 50 in a 35 zone.

Final question:

Why does it seem the more expensive the car, the greater the likelihood the driver will be an asshole?