I was all set to write about the Minnesota Timberwolves player who was jerking off to porn while drunk and driving his car, because let’s face it – nobody was hurt when he crashed into a park car, so it’s kind of entertaining. But then I read about Arkansas’ Governor joining the troops of douchebags.
“I’m very disappointed that the court seems more interested in what’s good for gay couples than what’s good for children needing foster care,” Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee said through his spokeswoman Alice Stewart. [link]
So, we don’t let The Gays become legally married. It’ll ruin the sanctity of marriage. Right.
But where’s the justifcation on why gay and lesbian couples shouldn’t be able to adopt children or serve as foster parents? Gay couples aren’t volunteering their lives to become foster parents because it benefits them. They’re volunteering because there are over half a million kids in foster care right now and the number isn’t getting any smaller.
I always forget that one person, like the Governor of Arkansas, can control the future of so many children needing homes by refusing to let a devoted and caring couple, regardless of sexual orientation, provide a place these kids can call home.
This is no longer a daily blog; it’s a daily list. I’m finding I communicate best in bullet points.
- My Rockstar Cousin just auctioned off another scarf. Since I’m the laziest blogger ever right now, I didn’t have a chance to link to it until now, when the auction is over. It went for $70. You generous folk are going to make me have to raise my goal again. I love you.
- My Male Model Puppy can be switched to adult food anytime now. I DON’T WANT HIM TO GROW UP. How do you people have human children? He just had his 1 year checkup and The Best Vet In The World said he’s doing great. I’m leaving as soon as I post this to go get him.
- I decided last week that I needed to lower the amount of money I spend on entertainment – movies, bars, trips, concerts, etc. I realized today that Twins games are not considered entertainment. They are a necessity.
- When I was at Pride this weekend, I filled out some information for Big Brothers, Big Sisters to contact me. Again. They did today, and I’ve scheduled an interview for July 10th. I think since I’m down to one job and no school, I think I can definitely committ to as much time as they need and more. I really, really, really hope it works out this time. Contrary to what you may think, I like the idea of being a good role model!
- Dammit, the Brewers are playing the Twins tomorrow night and I really want to go, but I’m sure I’ll be spending more than enough “entertainment money” in Milwaukee this weekend, especially when gas is $920.36/gallon.
On June 4th, Riley Pants was a male model. These are the rest of the pictures, all of them thanks to Cat, who asked if he’d like to pose with her for a while.
You keep forgetting you like lists, don’t you? This is a list of things I want to write long posts about, but I have do work, because I’m working 60-70 hours a week right now. WITH ONE JOB. I’m so dedicated.
- I went back to the gym tonight. SCORE.
- The Twins are amazing me right now. And I don’t mean my tits. I mean the baseball team.
- I’m pretty obsessed with Texas Hold ‘em still. And even more. I just need to learn how to play it with live people.
- I was going to do laundry tonight, but it’s almost 10pm. BUT – nobody would tell me I was making too much noise if I chose to do it.
- I’m headed to Milwaukee this weekend.
- I “accidentally” called my brother Saturday morning around 2 a.m. He told my friend Sarah that he has a girlfriend; he will not tell me this.
- Did you vote for Joe Mauer yet? He just went 5/5 against the Dodgers tonight and 4/5 last night – WITH A TRIPLE. He needs maybe 200,000 vote or so to catch up with Pudge Rodriguez. Sorry, Ron, but c’mon! Mauer could take down Rodriguez in a bottle fight and that’s what we should base our vote on!
June 12. That’s the last time I was at my haven that is the gym. Can someone say lazy ass?
I’ve done some walking with friends and with the dog, so I guess I haven’t been absolutely sedentary. And see? This is how it starts. I start approving of little excuses like, “Well, I won’t go to the gym today. I’ll walk Riley Pants instead.” How does a 30 minute casual walk where I stop every 10 minutes while my dog eats grass compare to 45 minutes of heavy cardio following half an hour of weight work? It doesn’t. But in my head, it gets me out of making the 1.5 mile drive to my gym.
For a while, I was able to prioritize my life – both social and professional – by making sure A TRIP TO THE GYM was included on my to-do list to do every day.Â Somehow, over the course of the past two weeks, it’s fallen down to the bottom of the list even below laundry. You know it’s bad when it’s below laundry.
Going to the gym before work? Not an option. I know how much I struggle to get up just to go to work.
The earliest I can get to the gym after work is 6:15pm. I work until 5:30. Then, I have to go home, take my puppy out for a bit, then I can head a couple of blocks over to sweat my ass off. I usually get home by 7:30 or 8:00 depending on how much talking I do with My Gym Buddy™. I take my dog out again for a longer walk, it’s usually 9pm before I can get in for the night.
More than anything, I’m just absolutely frustrated with myself. I jumped on the workout wagon like gangbusters, and promptly fell off that wagon with just as much gusto. I let everything else get in the way of what should be the most important thing to me — me.
And now I have to wait even longer before I can sell tickets to the gun show.
The Greenie Century, an event in which we consume 100 Greenies in the month of June, was completed last night. A week early. We’re overachievers. Again, I forgot my camera, which was probably wise. If my count is correct, I think there were 17 people there last night, so achieving our goal was a complete no-brainer.
Danny, the bartender, bought greenies 96, 97, 98, 99, and 100. The entire bar was talking about our impending goal, so our celebration of dancing and congratulatory rockhands didn’t seem to phase the rest of the patrons.
And now, I give you pictures from Jenni’s camera.
It’s obvious from today’s sfuffle that I don’t ever delete songs from my iPod. Clearly, I should start.
- Here Comes the Night – Van Morrisonm
- You Get Used to Somebody – Tim McGraw
- Not a Pretty Girl – Ani DiFranco
- Jingle Bells – Barenaked Ladies
- Canon in D – Pachelbel
- Seconds – Le Tigre
- It’s All Good – Fantasia
- Soak up the Sun – Sheryl Crow
- Hark the Herald Angels Sing – Clay Aiken
- Fuck Her Gently – Tenacious D
I’ll make no comment on the segue from the Clay Aiken song to a song called Fuck Her Gently.
The Girl Posse and I are out tonight, preparing for the drinking and the gayness that the weekend will hold, and we decide that we need our favorite bartender at Gameworks, Joe, to invent a shot for us. He didn’t let us down in our previous request for a made up shot called Roundhouse, so we had the utmost confidence in him.Jenni says, “Hey Joe. We need you to make us a shot. Wendy’ll tell you what it is.”
Joe, with his perfectly shaven (or shaved, either way) head, and cute little 22-year-old dimples says, “Okay. What is it?”
I look at Joe, and very proudly tell him the name of our shot shall be called “The Angry Poontang“.
Meet The Angry Poontang:
It’s with a camera phone and it’s not the best quality, but how was I supposed to know tonight was the night The Angry Poontang was to be invented?
The ingredients, according to the folded up napkin in my pocket, are Absolute Ruby Red Vodka, orange juice, and cranberry juice. It was a winner.
I think the part I enjoy the most about having a bartender invent a shot is how he walks circles around the bar trying to decide what to pour in next. I also especially like when he stick straw in the shaker to see if it tastes okay.
I must encourage you all to rush to your nearest drinking establishment and request THE ANGRY POONTANG. I’m sure it’s caught on everywhere by now.
The manager of the Chicago White Sox, Ozzie Guillen, referred to Chicago Sun-Times columnist Jay Mariotti as a fag, amongst other not-so-nice terms for being gay. But Guillen insists he didn’t mean to offend anyone. Apparently, in Venezuela, fag isn’t a derogatory word. Besides…
Guillen also told Couch that he has gay friends, attends WNBA games, went to a Madonna concert and plans to go to the Gay Games in Chicago. [link]
Dude. Ozzie. Are you serious? Attending WNBA games and going to a Madonna concert don’t exactly give you the fag card to be waving around, pal.
I get that Mariotti can be kind of a douchebag, just by reading some of his articles, but let’s call him a douchebag. Fag is way overused, and douchebag is funnier. And when I hear a Major League Baseball manager call someone a douchebag, I laugh. A lot. When I hear them call someone a fag, I just get angry. And you won’t like me when I’m angry.
Remember when I said Rosie O’Donnell was posting pictures on her Flickr account just for me?
Well, you can’t convince me that she’s not!!
I just finished her book a couple of days ago*. She didn’t mention anything about loving the #2. Then again, I’m sure she’s writing a book now solely dedicated to how much she loves the #2 and my dreams will be shattered. Or not even close.
I will admit the fact that she blogs is amazingly awesome. It’s not because her posts are the most phenomenal pieces of written work in the world; it’s because her posts are real and true. And not boring pieces of crap like other famous bloggers write.
* For those keeping track, yes, I’ve been reading books. Real books! Granted, I’ve been reading them in the bathroom, but I have to start somewhere!