Monthly Archives: February 2009

It’s Official: I’m Gay!

Don’t believe me? Here’s a pic from last night’s Feast of Fools live comedy podcast at Steamworks, Chicago’s premier gay bathhouse.

The Gayng (you see what I did there?)

The Gayng (you see what I did there?)


Vlog #6 – I Got Nothing

For some reason the YouTube image isn’t popping up on this one. Just click and watch. And by the way, I really had nothing going into this one. So…enjoy?

Starving Artist

I hate the starving artist mentality.

“Oh, look at me! I’m creative and suffering! The more I suffer, the more my art flourishes. Please don’t give me money for my work. If I get money, then I’ll no longer be starving and no longer able to create and then I’ll never be a real artist. Poop poop. Fart fart. ”

I for one would jump at the chance to make a commercial for Coca-cola or American Airlines or Deadly Chinese Toys. Is it selling out? I guess. But that’s how you pursue your passion…by capatilizing on it, baby!

But for now, since no one is paying me to do jack squat, I really am a starving artist. Part of that is my fault I guess. I haven’t bought groceries or done dishes in forever. I just don’t have any food around. Therefore I’m starving. Oh, and I make art. So there you go!

A new Vlog will hopefully be up tomorrow.


For seven years I swore off coffee. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the taste anymore or that I was trying to better my health, God forbid! No, I deveoped an adverse reaction to the stuff. Whereas I used to chug about a pot a day, suddenly I was left paralyzed with the jitters after just one cup. For some reason my long-time friend, caffeine, had turned against me. When I drank coffee during this period, I’d go through vicious mood swings, becoming silverback gorilla angry at one point and then crying like a Sally Fields winning an oscar at another. It was bizarre, and it scared many coworkers.

Recently, however, I purchased a non-fat latte at Starbucks. I was worried about what it would do to me. Would I undergo the same tranformation from moderately stable everyman into menopausal werewolf? I drank the brew and set the controls to cruise. What happened next was glorious. Nothing. Nothing but that euphoric feeling coffee once gave me, that feeling of flying through a perfectly blue sky speckled with cloud fluff…with a fucking jet engine strapped to your back. I was on a rollercoast baby and ain’t nothing going to stop the train from running off its track. I’m on fire! I’m the devil! I’m God! I’m Jesus-fucking-Christ! I can lift a mountain and destroy villages! I can bring the dead back to life and walk on fucking hot lava! Coffee! Welcome back! Welcome back my friend!

So yeah, I like coffee again. And now I drink it everyday. Another addiction badge to add to my sash. Huzzah!

Me after a cup of joe

Me after a cup of joe

Vlog #5 – Closet Party

Vlog #5 IS ALIVE!!!

Cable News Can Blow Me

I don’t have cable t.v. I don’t even have regular t.v. I have no t.v. Basically I’m a caveman. Unga bunga! Me want Oprah!

But occasionally I have the privilege of living like a normal human being, with indoor plumbing, iPods and Kleenex box cozies. For example, my gym has televisions attached to their cardio machines. This is obviously to fool overweight couch potatoes into thinking they’re actually sitting at home eating Cheetos rather than running their jiggly butts on a treadmill. Little do they know, they’re actually burning calories while watching the Barefoot Contessa spoon heaping helpings of butter into yet another boring Italian dish that I wouldn’t pay good money for no way no how. Wear some shoes, woman! Really!

Der! I don't wear shoes! Blargh!

Der! I don't wear shoes! Blargh!

What was I saying? Oh yes, I get to watch cable t.v. while I’m at the gym. And I always love tuning to the cable news networks, you  know, because there’s nothing more fun than a self-induced aneurysm. CNN, MSNBC, FOX. Give it to me! In my eyeholes! Hard! Fuck yeah!

The problem (or appeal) of cable news is that they have to fill 24 hours of programming with about maybe 5-8 hours worth of news (and that’s probably an overestimate. I mean think about how much goes on in your day. How much of it is interesting? How much of it is worth telling people? I’m not talking about how much of it you do tell people because Lord knows we all can’t fucking wait to hear the next story about the secretary, Gale, who taps her fake fingernails too loudly. Cause we all really give a shit about your stupid worklife. Do something interesting for once! Like learn to play the violin! Then you might have something to say that won’t make me want to cry and castrate myself because THAT would be 10x more interesting than a story about how you got lucky and landed two Snickers from the vending machine when you only paid for one.) So as you can see, it’s hard to fill up time with good stuff.

So cable news journalists are force to make up news. And they do this by relying on a time-old journalistic tradition – assuming you, the viewer, are a complete, thoughtless moron. For example, one of the stories they had on the other day was about who we should blame for the current economic crisis. First, isn’t that a little past due? Hasn’t this crisis been going on long enough to the point that our fingers have about fallen off thanks to all that pointing. But second, who the fuck cares?!? I’m poor. My friends are jobless. My parents have no retirement money. No one gives a flying flip anymore about how we got here. The point is we’re here. In hell. So how the fuck do we get out of it? It’s like the guy who wants to discuss how you could have avoided falling into a giant pile of quicksand while you’re sinking in a giant pile of quicksand.



So the point is, if you can help it, please get your news from a legitimate source. Don’t rot your brain out by watching cable news. They’re nothing but trouble. Read a blog or maybe a newspaper. I don’t know. You can’t really trust any media outlet anymore. I guess the only way to really find out what’s going on is to go there and see it for yourself. But in instances like Iraq and Afghanistan, that’s too dangerous. Which I guess is why we have journalists….so someone else and bare the risk of getting blown to bits so you can find out about Spring fashion in the Green Zone.


This isn’t a typical blog post for me. No laughter. Nothing funny.

I came home from the gym today and read an e-mail my mother had sent me. A kid from my high school, who I knew well in elementary school, died. His car fell ofd a bridge, killing him on the scene.

Death has touched a lot of people I know lately. It seems the older I get, the closer death gets to me. I know I’m pointing out the obvious, that with each passing day we all come one step closer to death. But also the older you get, the more death becomes a real presence in your life. Grandparents and parents grow old and die. Childhood pets grow old and die. Accidents and disease claim the lives of friends. It’s a periodic reminder of your mortality.

Even though I didn’t know this person well after the 7th grade, I still feel touched by his death, if predominantly in a symbolic way. Part of it serves as a reminder, that each day is important and that this is the only life you have to live and that you truly need to take risks and put your neck on the line in order to find happiness. No one is going to come along and make all your dreams come true. You have to do it. And to do it, you often risk failure, embarrassment and scorn from others. You must set priorities, which inevitably leads to certain sacrifices. At times you will lose love, you will miss opportunities, you will be financially poor, you will be lonely. But in the end, you have to ask yourself, was it worth it? Did I lead the life I wanted to? Did I do everything I could to make myself happy? Did I treat people with love and kindness? Did I attempt feel empathy for those that I did not understand? Did I live a vibrant and colorful life, casting off the comfortable chains of monotony and routine?

You get one chance. This is something I try to remind myself daily. When I’m afraid to take the stage, when I wonder if the work I do is worth the sacrifices I’ve already had to make, I try to remind myself that this is the life I want to lead, and I will do what it takes to lead it. Do not let death discourage you. Let it motivate you. And celebrate those that do pass on. If they are old, hopefully their lives served as a model for yours. And if they are young, remember that there is no gauranty on life…so live it.