Wanted, Indeed

So, yesterday the boys and I went to check out the new Angelina Jolie flick, “Wanted.”

I, for one, loved it. I’m into all that fast-action, adrenaline rush for your nerves type shit. And, aside from the rather loud ass Trekkie behind us that later followed us to Joe’s, I got to chill out with the nearest and dearest on an otherwise ominous Sunday afternoon.

But I digress, while we were waiting on Ferg, JD and BeX to arrive, my friend BH began to inspect the ever-growing line. I had Fandango-ed our tickets so a quick flick of the credit card and the machine spit out our tickets with little to no hassle (a shout out to the hottie emo boy in front of me with the red hair, black glasses and spectacular blue eyes).

BH, always the quick quipper, asked innocently “what else opened this weekend?”

“Wall-E, that animated robot movie,” I answered without much thought.

“Ah, that explains the kids and parents.”

“Oh, and Hancock with Will Smith,” I muttered while glossing over the LA Fitness people aquarium.

“And that takes care of the black folks,” BH responded without skipping a beat.

“Seriously, B? You didn’t just say that out loud,” I said in a tone that was equal parts amused and annoyed.

“What? I’m serious – I mean all the queer boys are going to see Jolie,” said BH without even an afterthought to his profiling.

I couldn’t deny his train of thought. He was pretty much balls-on accurate with his assessment.

BH continued without a trace of sarcasm: “Come on – me, Angelina, a strap-on – I’d try it.”

Hee!

I later relayed BH’s comment to BeX.

“Can't say it wouldn't give me pause,” he said coolly.

With the Chris Evans, Ryan Reynolds, Johnny Depps of Hollywood, my friends have voted Angelina as its official Power Top.

Personally, I’d pass on the strap-on, but wouldn’t mind being adopted. Me and Maddox could take turns calling Brad “Daddy.”

PRIDE 08

So, my dear friend MG asked me to update my old skool Pride post in honor of Pride 08. I'll start thinking about it and have it up by the weekend. This is going to be a little tricky since Atlanta Pride has moved to the Civic Center.

I have a special place in my heart for Atlanta Pride and despite the fact they had NO CHOICE in the matter, it bugs me that people think the drought that ruined the park for Class A type festivals is the Pride Committee's fault. C'mon now, seriously? Let's think about this, people. It's not like they're some huge corporate conglomerate that moved the event just for the sake of being evil and money/power hungry. It's kind of hard to grasp, but they'd LOVE to have it back in the Park and tried every avenue possible to keep it there. A little perspective, people. F'n idiots. Ok, sorry, that was uncalled for.

Here's my thing: If all the local businesses were so concerned about the event possibly being moved, perhaps they should have been a little more generous with the additional revenue that weekend brings in for them. They should have, I don't know, given back to the people that actually produce the main reason why they have the extra revenue? Check yourself, it's a non-profit. They keep their overhead as low as possible. And, all of you just bitch?

(Gasp) Oh no, you won't get your bonus for a stellar weekend. Guess what? It's not because of anything you or your company did to bring those people into Midtown - it's thanks to the Pride Committee. Your brilliant marketing plans and witty advertising didn't convince all these people to come to the Park - it's a tribute to Stonewall actually. Imagine that, at the very basic foundation of Pride Weekend isn't to make a buck or illustrate the power of the gay dollar, it's an homage to the pioneers that stood up for our rights as people and blazed a trail for us to follow. So, get with the program and try to remember what the weekend stands for in the first f'n place.

And, end rant.

I Miss...

my Biz-Wan-Rah (Genre).

Really, I do.

Ayo Technology

This is a photo taken from Alicia Keys' tour stop in NY. My boss sent them to me. I really really want those screens behind Alicia. They're pretty f'n cool.

PONR

So, I was talking to me partner-in-crime last night, AR (didn't realize until just now that we have the same initials - neat). We were going over a few things and I came to a realization that we had crossed the line from planning and inspiration into coordination and execution. In short, we've reached the Point Of No Return.

Bare with me for a moment cause my neuroses are working overtime. Yeah, I've spent weeks, nay, years on this shit, but this is a culmination of my entire professional career coming to a head right about now.

And, yeah, I'm scared shitless. Luckily, AR and DG and even da' Protege were all "snap the fuck out of it!"

I kinda have, but here's my thing: So you've got this dream and you strive to make it happen. I'm a Pisces so I tend to get caught up in side bullshit all the time and don't focus properly on the ultimate task at hand - which is to live happily ever after, yeah? Ok, so I'm going with the flow and now the flow has brought me here - which, don't get me wrong, I busted my ass for this shit and truly f'n deserve it, but after this - what's next?

Dreams come true? Check.

Umm, ok, great!

I guess I'll worry about what comes next at a later time. We've hit the Point Of No Return y'all. Buckle up. We gots work to do.

And, umm, thanks for humoring me on my subscriptions.

Head Exploding

Oh. My. Gawwwwwwd.

I can't focus. There's too much going on.

And, yeah, I tried doing the whole "one thing at a time."

Ladies Lunching

My shopping extravaganza has been postponed thanks to the rain. And, by "extravaganza," I actually mean Target and Bed, Bath and Beyond. Oh, and Publix. Where, apparently, shopping is a pleasure.

Yesterday, the boys got together for another one of our infrequent Friday lunches. Platypus and I decided a cocktail was in order since it was Friday and opted for the Coconut Mojitos. Now, I'm not a big rum person, but f'n yuuum. Unfortunately, RB has a new constriction on his eating schedule so this one wasn't as leisurely as usual. Well, if you don't count the drinks. Ferg showed up a pinch late, but got there just in time to see RB hit it back to "gay hell."

Without calling anyone out, one member of our party was brave enough to slip his number to a neighboring table as we made our group exit.

I have to give him props, I rarely send the phone number out there unless it's at least an 80% certainty it's coming back. Our bold party member explained later that he felt bad for the guy since it looked like he had been stood up. (How did I miss that?)

"It's like he was trying to play it off," said ATPTI, "and he was really cute."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't draw more attention to him," I responded.

I started thinking about it some more. I can't recall the last time I ate out alone. If I ever do, it's more out of convenience. It's like if I'm having a horribly busy day and I need to decompress, I'll sit somewhere and have a bite to eat going over the rest of the shit I have to do, you know? And, typically, it's usually a non-peak hour time of the day like 3 or 4, where you don't get the "aww, poor sucker, he's all alone" shit talking as illustrated above.

On the other hand, this solo diner did get a phone number from a complete stranger and all. And, not for nothing, but my friends are hella-cute so he definitely should have taken it as a compliment.

At the end of the day though, it was a sympathy cruise card and, us, the bastards at the next table over were certainly talking about him. In other words, did it balance out? In the greater scheme of things, probably. The shot to the ego he took from being stood-up was cancelled out by getting cruised methinks.

Now, did anyone else notice he was wearing a wedding band?

Congratulations Unca Ferg!

So, it's official, Ferg is an uncle.

Speaking from experience, being an uncle is the most amazing thing in the world. You get the joys of feeling parent-like without the day to day responsibility. Not to mention, it's a great way to get back at your siblings for those years of torment when you were younger.

You get to be this undermining authority figure AND get away with it cause in a few years time, they're gonna be knocking on your door for help with the kids' tuition.

Congratulations, Ferg - enjoy the experience!

And, umm, the whole "supreme chancellor" thing? Yeah, let that go.

Pride and Joy

So, it's Pride Season. I've already been all up in everyone else's Pride and working and for the first time in like, five years, I get to ENJOY Pride in Atlanta and not WORK it.

Last year, while working at WB, I put together the Pride lineup to end all Pride lineups. My friends and colleagues will attest to the fact that I was a big ball of stress for five days in a row. I was juggling pick-ups, drop-offs, sound checks, cross promotions, in-house advertising, etc. Last year, I stepped foot in the park for all of six minutes and that was to argue with my former boss that you CAN'T disassemble a f'n float on f'n Piedmont in front of f'n Willy's.

But, bygones.

It's the proverbial water under the proverbial bridge.

This year, I have ONE ACT to watch over, Hex. He's playing on Friday with Kristine at WB. After that, I have no responsibilities at all - ZIP, NADA, NILL. As a matter of fact, I plan on checking out of my work week the second Hex gets on the turntables. After her performance, me and Kristine are gonna have us a little champagne drink-off.

I'm looking forward to being a drunken fool along with the rest of my neighborhood and nearest and dearest. PR and LA Hubby, AB are coming in from LA. DG may be coming down from NY, actually, who am I kidding - why would anyone miss 4th of July in NY?

Ok, fine, so Pride isn't going to be at the Park officially. It's at the Civic Center. Big f'n deal. I'll see you bitches at the Smirnoff/Absolut/Heineken/Bud Light sponsored tent.

Cheers, faggots. Happy Pride!

Skillz...

Yeah, I gots 'em.

So, technically I'm supposed to be in Nashville. I fucked up my back a bit again doing shit I wasn't supposed to be doing - clearly. But, I digress, despite one of my artist's flights landing hella-late, I was able to find a solution to her missed performance. I even sorted out the details of said solution - sound check too - all while staring at my ceiling.

Also, I was so in love with Sex and the City, I actually bought tickets for my mom and sister-in-law as part of their Kids-Free Sunday. They had a fabulous lunch at Olive Garden (hey, it's Ocala - what do you expect?) and caught the movie all without spending a dime - all this was coordinated and planned without leaving my apartment.

I f'n gots skillz.

And yeah, obviously I'm bored.