Voguing, by Fanny Pak

My favorite crew from America's Best Dance Crew Season 2 are the best! Fanny Pak won me over with their 80s influenced moves, as well as their inventive style and we'll-do-what-we-want attitude. Here is a clip of them at a recent show "voguing" to Madonna. Pretty hot. Below that is a new piece that they choreographed which gives a pretty good idea of their dance style and their creativity:

The new Fanny Pak routine to MIA's "Bamboo Banga":

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Hottie of the Week!

Ah, happy Thanksgiving ya'll! And so what are you thankful for? Well, you can sure as hell bet I'm thankful for all the hotness this world has to offer. Eat lots of t(of)urkey today!




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Video on Hipsters

This was shot in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Go figure.

Thanks to hipsterrunoff.com for this story! Read more!

Discovering Dominga

We just watched a movie in my Latino studies class regarding the torture and genocide that occurred in Guatemala after the military government was implemented in 1954. The president at the time, Jacobo Arbenz, who had a socialist background, was overthrown and sent into exile. The military was trained and taught by the American CIA in torture methods, their interest lying both in economic and political interest (like everything else).

The military government then began a systematic "cleansing" in which they murdered and tortured hundreds of people, mostly Mayan indians who lived in the areas that the government wanted control over. Denese "Dominga" Becker returns to her homeland after 18 years to discover her past, and reclaim the remains of her father, who was murdered by the soldiers.

Below is a synopsis from the PBS website, but I highly recommend looking into it. Both touching and empowering, this is something everyone should know about.

The link to the site is here.


When 29-year-old Iowa housewife Denese Becker decides to return to the Guatemalan village where she was born, she begins a journey towards finding her roots, but one filled with harrowing revelations. Denese, born Dominga, was nine when she became her family's sole survivor of a massacre of Mayan peasants. Two years later, she was adopted by an American family. In "Discovering Dominga," Denese's journey home is both a voyage of self-discovery that permanently alters her relationship to her American family and a political awakening that sheds light on an act of genocide against this hemisphere’s largest Indian majority.

On March 13, 1982, Denese Becker was a nine-year-old Maya girl named Dominga living in the Maya highlands, when the Guatemalan army entered the village of Rio Negro. By the time the soldiers left, hundreds of people, including 70 women and 107 children, had been massacred and dumped in a mass grave. They became part of the estimated 4,000 to 5,000 men, women and children killed in the Rio Negro area by military forces from 1980 to 1983. The Rio Negro villagers had been marked as "insurgents" for resisting their forced removal to make way for a World Bank-funded dam.

Dominga was one of the unaccountably "lucky" survivors of the massacre at Rio Negro. Placed in an orphanage, she was adopted two years later by a Baptist minister and his wife from Iowa. Dominga became Denese. Adjusting to her new life in America, she tried to bury the trauma of the massacre and the unspeakable memories so foreign to her Midwestern neighbors. She graduated high school, happily married Iowa native Blane Becker, had children, and became a manicurist.

But Denese never completely forgot her childhood as Dominga, and was haunted by memories of her parents' murder. When she asked one of her adoptive cousins for help to research her past, she discovered she still had family in Guatemala. She decided to return to find them. Once there, she shares bittersweet memories of family and village life with her relatives, and then the story of the killings comes pouring out. Inexorably, Denese is drawn into the ongoing struggle of the surviving Rio Negro community to find justice.

Forming themselves into a Widows and Orphans Committee, the survivors had started to document the massacre and speak out for justice. Though peace accords brought Guatemala's civil war to an uneasy close in 1996, seeking the truth about crimes committed during the war and redress for the victims remained difficult and dangerous. A United Nations Truth Commission found the Guatemalan army responsible for 93 percent of total war crimes, and the killings at Rio Negro were declared a crime of genocide. Yet as Denese discovers, the perpetrators have not been punished, and the military is still powerful.

Outraged at the injustice, Denese decides to become a witness in a landmark human rights case brought against the Guatemalan military. She joins her relatives to demand the exhumation of the Rio Negro massacre victims from a clandestine grave and their re-burial in a new gravesite called Monument to the Truth. Ultimately, the community succeeds. In a dramatic moment, Denese returns once again to Guatemala to witness a forensic team unearth the grisly remains of the victims, including the body of her beloved father.

Back in the U.S., she begins speaking about her experiences before school and community groups. For Denese, honoring the truth is morally necessary, but also personally shattering. Though her husband has fully supported her journey to rediscover "Dominga," the strains begin unraveling their marriage. As Blane reflects, "A war that happened so long ago has broken our family apart."
Read more!

Sign in San Diego, CA

This is pretty cool. Check it out. This church put up a sign apologizing for Prop 8. Progress?:


Thanks to queerty.com for this article. Read more!

Rant: Thanksgiving Weekend

So the plan for this week: don't die!

Sounds like fun, huh? Its as if I've been transported back to 4000 BC. What would I have done? I can't get through the day without a sugar cookie and my iPod - chances of survival are very, very dire. However, these days, surviving means:

1) Getting through school without cutting a class.
2) Making dinner without a shit-done of fat in it (what I would do for a slice of Red Rocks right now...)
3) Doing laundry/getting a new coat tomorrow morning before work.
4) Getting through work.
5) Getting through Thanksgiving.
6) Getting to NYC without the bus exploding or being taken over by terrorists.
7) Surviving a weekend shoulder to shoulder with mom.
8) Slapping together a presentation and a paper before school in a week.

Jeez, when I spell it all out like that it all looks rather glum. Oh, well - guess I'll just have to cross my fingers and see how it all plays out. Knowing me, though, it'll all probably blow up in my face (I already am seeing potential problems with 1, 2, 6-8). Yikes! Crossies! Read more!

Beirut - Nantes

Well it's been a long time, long time now
since I've seen you smile.
And I'll gamble away my fright.
And I'll gamble away my time.
And in a year, a year or so
this will slip into the sea
Well, it's been a long time, long time now
since I've seen you smile

Nobody raise your voices
Just another night in Nantes
Nobody raise your voices
Just another night in Nantes

We saw...

(French interlude)
Woman: Ah non, j't'en prie. Mais ço(ça), ça me facine...
Man: Je t'assure que...
Woman: Non! Laisse-moi!
Man: Qu'est-ce que tu as aujourd'hui?
Woman: J'ai que les hommes me dégoûtent.
Vous pensez qu'à ça de toute façon.

Well it's been a long time, long time now
since I've seen you smile.
And I'll gamble away my fright.
And I'll gamble away my time.
And in a year, a year or so
this will slip into the sea
Well, it's been a long time, long time now
since I've seen you smile Read more!

Charm School 2 Update


The spit heard round the world - last night, Brandi C. was eliminated from Charm School 2 for spitting in Destiney's face. Despite the fact that it was a clear manipulation on behalf of Lacey (skank), Sharon made an executive call and said that spitting was both unacceptable and pathetic. Rikki, one of the "deans" of Charm School, practically ripped Brandi C. a new asshole, saying that he thought she'd win the whole thing.

Oh well! If this were Flavor of Love, we'd pour out some champagne for her, but I guess we'll have to settle for tequila shots. Six left!

Read more!

Joan Collins on the Weather

Take it away, girlfriend! (Hilarious):

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Anderson Cooper Still Loves Reality TV

This is actually a repost from www.queerty.com verbatim so don't sue me, but I thought it was too cute and too awesome to pass up, and the editor did an excellent job in capturing both my sentiment and the humor of the article.


Anderson Cooper is rapidly becoming the one person, living or dead, with whom we would choose to have dinner.

Not only is he hilariously sarcastic when it comes to politics — telling Ellen Degeneres, "I'm not sure I existed before [the election]" — he also focuses on what really matters: Reality television.

The former
Living Lohan critic revealed his current obsession with The Real Housewives of Atlanta, most notably resident crazy NeNe. When Ellen admits she hasn't watched, Anderson asks incredulously, "What have you been doing?" before giving the show the hard sell: "It's good … or something." Swoon. Read more!

Awesome music video!

Loves it! Its the John Steel Singers from Australia, and their video for "Rainbow Kraut" was inspired by Guitar Hero. Am-azing!

The John Steel Singers - Rainbow Kraut (Directed by Warran & Rhett) from Moop Jaw on Vimeo.
Read more!

Otto; or Up With Dead People

A pretty cool piece by artist Bruce LaBruce. Zombies, murder, sex - check it out and let me know what you think.

Read more!

Sign in Wichita, Kansas

Can you believe people? I dare and encourage all of you to call the number on the sign and complain. The area code is 316 - yes, I looked it up :)

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My sister's video

My sister, this election, helped Barack Obama win the nomination for president of the United States of America. If anyone is due a standing ovation, its her. In any case, check out the video of her campaigning in Las Vegas, NV. Helpful hint: her first name is Natalia.

Read more!


So, here are the blocks I need lifted to register for classes next semester:

1. Arts and Humanities counseling block.
2. English department counseling block.
3. Financial block.

My loan came through, but I still need the financial block lifted for some reason. Phone calls tomorrow, yay! Read more!

Hottie of the Week!

Yay, finally, diversity has arrived to Hottie of the Week ! Special shout outs to Kevin and Melissa for this post!




Read more!


Last night, I went into the Heights, sat at the bar and had three beers and a steak salad. Yum. Chris was bartending, yet, despite being in a crappy mood and being known to be one of the biggest sticklers, my check only showed the steak salad on it. What a sweetheart. I sat there for about an hour and a half, drinking my beers, eating my food rather slowly, and reading the last twenty pages of the "Tattooed Soldier" that I needed to finish by today.

I've been doing that a lot, lately - going to bars to sit, drink and read. Its not that it feels grown up or marks a new level of maturity, because I don't think that the way you drink alcohol connotes how "grown up" you are. I guess to me it makes me feel like I've come a long way when I think about my early drinking years, when I would sneak into bars in the Castro and dance the night away with Suzy and Nick. Or maybe the middle ages, when Amar, Dwayne and I would go to Deco (only one of us actually old enough to be there) and drinking with Ron and making out with older men on the dance floor.

Bars have been a big part of my life, now that I think about it. Growing up, our house on 60 Melra Court, the house I've lived in the longest (11 years) had a huge bar in the downstairs room. There was a light over what looked like a glass mirror in the center of the bar that would reveal a dancing naked woman when flicked on.

I had my first party, there - New Years 2000, I was fourteen. I did not get drunk (there was only soda and snacks), but my friends and I had a great time, ringing in the new millennium with yellow streamers wrapped to our wrists, running through the streets like we were boozed up.

The first time I drank was from that bar, too - two days after I came out, I grabbed a water bottle and filled it up with a bunch of shots of different liquors and Tyler Murray and I drank it in the stairways of San Francisco State. We wrestled in the dewey grass in front of a fraternity, drunk brothers with lemonade tequila-rum breath. It was the first of many times the two of us would drink together.

Deco, the Stud - then later, Apex and Jr's ... these have been major symbols in my adult gay life, but now, a good time at a bar means a book and a steak salad and a frothy brew. It has been a long ride for me.

Of course, that does not mean I won't turn down a sloppy night sweating on the dancefloor at Wonderland, so invite me along! Read more!

Raptor Jesus, pt. 2

More pics of Raptor Jesus, my new(ish) obsession!

I love obsessing! Obsessing is fun! Yay! Especially when it distracts me from the papers I should be writing...





Now enjoy! Read more!

Bright Eyes - Spent on Rainy Days

I wish I saved up for rainy days
cause they're the hardest to be dry
I got no self control
I'm always begging into telephones.

I bought a little from my brother's friend,
well, just to get me by
I don't trust his cut
The effect is never as high as the mark-up.

I think I'll print it in the personals that I'm looking for a match
Someone to light me up,
someone to burn the proof of the things that I've done.

Each day there are hours I skip like a stone
I just crawl in a bag
I'm gonna live my life like somebody's shadow.

I know I'm lazy with the little things,
I mean I never held a door
But I still loved you more than anyone since or before.

You are always saying that I owe you one,
well, let's consolidate this debt
Get on a payment plan,
I'll pay you compliments, you can still treat me bad.

But now it's easy, getting easier,
to leave you and this town behind
I'll do some traveling
Once I'm gone tell all our friends you got even.

I'm held like an object and then set aside
And I'm back on the shelf,
I'm locked in the drawer
I'm mint in the box,
but you would still sell me for cost, wouldn't you?

I'll be anything...
the cord of a parachute...
the blanket on top of you...
The window you are looking through...
the cord of a parachute Read more!


Update: I'm drowning! School! Work! Homework! Social life! None of it is coming out perfect, but its all being printed. Splotchy. Sloppy. A little late.

Some pretty rad stuff lined up though:

1. Nati's coming back.
2. i'm going to New York next week.
3. I have rent saved up for December.
4. I'm going back to California in about a month.

I've also managed to cram in a few beers with my friends, dinner with Angie, and a few kisses with a boy who I think is pretty fucking cool. I'm on top of my homework (shout out to that queer lit paper I'll be writing tonight!) and my reading, which has been kicking my ass all up and down the green line. Talking about school is a little boring, though, and a little trite, I think - who wants to hear about that shit? I don't even want to do it, let alone dignify it with more discussion. That ends here.

On the other hand, I had a swell weekend. I got of the hook at work on Friday and went out with coworkers Jen and Alex to this place called (Perry's or Terry's?) and got so drunk by 9 that I ended up puking in the urinal. Flooded the damn bathroom and the poor busboy looked like he had walked in on two overweight men butt-fucking on the wet linoleum.

Alex and I proceeded to go back to Commonwealth and took up a table for a couple of appetizers. His girlfriend Kenzie and Patrick showed up and they proceeded to drink for us. Patrick and Kenzie ended up getting into a heated debate over the specifics of the presidency, and we took the battleground up to Alex's roof with a couple of beers. We left shortly thereafter because Patrick ran into one of his ex's.

On the way home, we stopped by Wonderland to say hi to Angie and Patrick ended up throwing up in my toilet. Right before he passed out on my bed, with eyes closed, he smiled and said: "We both puked." With a small giggle, he passed out. Read more!

Fall has come to College Park

I know that its been fall for a while, but the leaves look especially beautiful this week.

Read more!

Charm School 2 Update


Last night, we saw the expulsion of Dallas, the last minority holding it down in Sharon Osbourne's Rock of Love Charm School. Expelled for "not giving a shit" and being altogether dysfunctional in the presence of arch-nemesis Lacey, she was given the boot because she could not overcome her anger and her apathy. Oh, well - smell ya later, sucker! Only seven remain...

Read more!

Time Machine...

AMAZING! Finally, an answer to all the worlds problems - an interactive game on YOUTUBE.

These guys are brilliant and can't wait for the next installment!

Read more!

GREAT commercial

Very persuasive ad. It was banned in the United States, however. Go figure.

Read more!

Hottie of the Week

So, I'm having trouble finding "diversity" for the Hottie of the Week. Its actually really bothering me. So much so, that I'm considering stopping. Let me know if you find a good site for good pictures. Thanks!



Read more!

One Giant Leap - My Culture

I have always loved this song. I remember listening to it at one of the sample music players at the Virgin Megastore in San Francisco and going back frequently to listen to it. Enjoy.


I'm the sum total of my ancestors
I carry their DNA
We are representatives of a long line of people
And we carried them around everywhere
This long line of people
That goes back to the beginning of time
And when we meet, they meet, other lines of people
And we say bring together the lines of me.

[Maxi Jazz:]
When I look back over the years
at the things that brought tears to my eyes
papa said we have to be wise to live long lives
now I recognise what my father said before he dies
vocalise things I've left unsaid
left my spirit unfed for too long
I'm coming home to my family
Where I can be strong
Be who I planned to be
Within me, my ancestry
Givin' me continuity
Would it be remiss to continue in this way
would you rather I quit
come with the other shit
making people's hips sway
lip service I pay but I'm nervous
I pray for all the mothers who get no sleep
like a lifeline I light lines cause my compassion is deep
for the people who fashioned me, my soul to keep
and this is who I happen to be
and if I don't see that I'm strong then I won't be

This is what my Daddy told me
I wished he would hold me
A little more, than he did
But he taught me, my culture
And how to live positive
I never wanna shame
The blood in my veins and bring pain
to my sweet grandfathers face,
in his resting place
I make haste to learn and not waste
everything my forefathers earned in tears
for my culture

[Robbie Williams:]
Fall back again
Crawl from the warm water

[Maxi Jazz: ]
for my culture

water to air
you're on your feet again
your feet again.

Hello Dad, remember me?
I'm the man you thought I'd never be.
I'm the boy who you reduced to tears
Dad I'd been lonely for 27 years
Yeah, that's right my name's Rob
I'm the one who landed the pop stars job
I'm the one who you told look don't touch
and the kid who wouldn't amount to much
I believe in the senses out of sound
I have always been too loud
won't you help me drown it out?
I'm what I feel
and what I'm feeling is surreal
I'm a massive spinnin' wheel always digging in my heels.
Now I got the faith
Fall back again
Crawl from the warm water
water to air
you're on your feet again
your feet again.

[Maxi Jazz:]
Ha! Lace up your booty
Going back to the roots
continue my interlude
Feed freakin' for loot
And my spell's been to check what your future brings
is now
and your forefathers further know how
but now what happened to the world without the hatred

Use your head if the needle is wise be the thread
And weave ancestral wisdom yours by best
spreading the lords word over this broad earth

[Robbie & Maxi:]
This is what my Daddy told me
I wished he would hold me
A little more
than he did
But he taught me my culture
And how to live positive
I never wanna shame
the blood in my veins and bring pain
to my sweet grandfathers face
in his resting place
I make haste to learn and not waste
everything my forefathers earned in tears

[Maxi Jazz:]
for my culture

[Robbie Williams:]
Fall back again
Crawl from the warm water
Water to air
You're on your feet again
Your feet again

[Maxi Jazz:]
for my culture

[Robbie Williams:]
Fall back again
Crawl from the warm water
Water to air
You're on your feet again
Your feet again

[Maxi Jazz:]
for my culture Read more!


cake·walk (kkwôk)
1. Something easily accomplished: Winning the race was a cakewalk for her.
2. A 19th-century public entertainment among African Americans in which walkers performing the most accomplished or amusing steps won cakes as prizes.
a. A strutting dance, often performed in minstrel shows.
b. The music for this dance.
intr.v. cake·walked, cake·walk·ing, cake·walks
To perform a strutting dance.

Reading an essay by Essex Hemphill and became interested in what cakewalking is. Here is a clip I found from the turn of the 20th century of real cakewalkers. Pretty interesting stuff. A little haunting.

Read more!

Letter to Melissa (Vol. 2)

Melissa -

I'm kind of tired. I kind of hate class. I kind of hate DC (because I can't leave.) I kind of hate SF because I'm not there. I kind of hate SF because you're there and not here. I kind of miss CCSF. I kind of wish it was snowing. I can't wait to see my grandma. I want tamales, Mexican hot chocolate, my tias and their shitty Christmas gifts, my cousins and their kids, the carpet and yawning in the glow of Univision. I don't want to be so dead inside. I don't want to have seen the things I've seen, or have done the things I've done. I'm jealous of so many people. I'm so afraid of so many people. I'm afraid of myself, of my wasted potential. I'm afraid dying. I'm afraid of not living. I'm afraid of losing my family, my friends, you. My sister. Oh, my sister!

I had a dream last night that my mom was pregnant. The only thing I remember was her buying baby formula, and me asking her if she was going to breast feed the baby. She said no. I asked her if she breast-fed Nati and I. She said yes.

We walked out the window and went to the store to buy a loaf of bread.

Love - Julian Read more!

Super Obama World

If you go to www.superobamaworld.com, you can play a video game someone made in the style of "Super Mario World," only with the president elect as the protagonist! So fun! Conquer Alaska by fighting Russians and pigs with lipstick! Here's a screenshot.

Read more!

Third Eye Blind - Tattoo of the Sun

I believe everything you say
'Cause you're not frightened
The way I've been
So I follow you
Just in case you lose your way
So glad you could let me stay around

The chain link fence you climbed
To make forbidden lakes our own
Yours and mine
And with the ease of sea gulls
We cut the engines and cruise high
In the summer sky

Now I could speak to everything
But there's no room for my voice
When sweet feedback is
Jumping through the hoop of your ear
Ring there goes the phone
And then you're off again
On what the caller brings

So I went and trashed myself at the bar
Confused for nothing thinking you'd be there
I'm so embarrassed 'cause it's you
Who comes to take care of me
Shambling home again with you to lead
And it's not the way I want to go

And I'm mad at you and I'm mad at me
Talking endlessly, not a kind word to say
Till your amber beads of wisdom come
And I want to write it down
Just the way you said it
So I could keep it always

I can't forget the smell
Of summer trees at midnight
Bending backwards to please the wind
You touch the tattoo of the sun
On a warm belly that once carried a baby for a while
Then let the cracked leather jacket round you fold
Red face saints monogrammed in gold
And in this beauty I would not go any further
'Cause I suddenly remembered
We can't live this way forever

Idle daylight
I've never caught you in a lie
Not until now
I feel somehow
The passing of these days gone by
What will you do when the feeling
That you have is through

I need to know
'Cause I'll never stop hanging on to you
And it's times like this that I dread
When there's everything to say
And nothing left
To be said

And it makes me sad. Read more!

Keith Olbermann, my new boyfriend

Keith Olbermann, on gay marriage and Prop 8:

"Nobody is asking you to embrace their expression of love, but don't you as human beings have to embrace that love? The world is barren enough - it is stacked AGAINST love, and against hope, and against those very few and precious emotions that enable us, ALL of us to go forward.

Your marriage only stands a fifty-fifty chance of lasting, no matter how much you feel, and how hard you work. And here are people overjoyed at the prospect of just THAT chance, and that work just for the hope of having that feeling. With so much hate in the world, with so much meaningless division ... this is what your religion tells you to do? With your experience of life and this world and all its sadnesses, this is what your conscience tells you to do?...

You want to sanctify marriage? You want to honor your God and the universal love you believe he represents? Then spread happiness... share it with all those who seek it."


Here is the special report where he said all this, and more. Its a great piece.

Read more!

Jon Stewart on "Crossfire"

"Crossfire" was a show that pit two commentators, one liberal and one conservative, against one another to discuss various issues so people could see both sides of an issue. Right before the 2004 presidential election, Jon Stewart went on Crossfire and successfully managed to both bash and criticize it. The conservative commentator got extremely angry and progressively obnoxious, but Stewart held his own, seeming cool and collected the whole way through.

Within two weeks of his appearance on Crossfire, the commentators were fired and the show was canceled. Now, what remains are a few loyal fans and this fantastic clip. Watch it in its entirety - its amazing! Its like an episode of Celeb-reality, but unscripted.

Read more!


So, today I started to think about visibility - who has it, and who doesn't. It really hit me when I bought the new book that I'm supposed to be reading for my 20th century fiction class, "Anil's Ghost" by Michael Ondaatje, the same person who wrote "The English Patient." In my class, we've read about eight or nine books, all from different parts of the world, all concerned with themes of feminism, identity, colonialism and postcolonialism, modernism and postmodernism, and the merging of cultures. I thought that we had hit all the bases until this book (it takes place in Sri Lanka), which got me thinking about how we had not read anything from India.

It is interesting, how both India and China together have a quarter of the world's populations yet we rarely see anything regarding those countries unless natural disaster strikes (the Tsunami of 2005) or self-interest (the Olympics this year). We rarely see Indian people on TV or the radio or in movies, and the ones we do see are from England. We rarely see Asian people of ANY ethnic background or denomination, and the ones we do see are stereotyped. It really makes one think about the value we put on white culture, and how Anglocised our American viewpoint is. Soon, a quarter of the population will be Latino, a great chunk of it is already Asian in California, and a huge fraction is black in the southeast.

I'm not saying there is anything wrong with white culture, but I definitely feel like the scales are unequally balanced when it comes to visibility. Don't even get me started on queer people, or on people who fit into both categories. Even on a caste level we can say that the scales are unfairly tipped - think about how many reality shows are devoted to rich people (The Hills) and how many are devoted to people who struggle and could actually benefit from visibility?

Its pretty gross. Read more!

Prop 8 Protests in Sacramento, CA

Here are some cool pictures from a protest that took place in Sacramento, California after Prop 8 passed. These signs are great, and the people definitely pay homage to how clever and fabulous we are in California. Represent! Only sorry I couldn't be there....





Thanks to sfist.com for this story! Read more!

Cool Picture

This photo was captured outside of the Lincoln Memorial, wishing president-elect Barack Obama luck in several different languages. Check it out.


Thanks to dcist.com for the story. Read more!

Charm School 2 Update


Unfortunately, Thor's daughter Inna was sent home on Rock of Love Charm School. She was called to the carpet because she lacked improvement, the second gig out of three where she did not present herself appropriately. It came down to Brandi M., Jessica and she, but I personally think she was sent home because she didn't cry and beg enough. She's probably had the most gracious exit on any reality show I've ever seen, too. Way to go, Inna!

Read more!

McCain on Saturday Night Live

Read more!

Hottie of the Week ... and 100

I was kind of hoping that my 100th post would NOT be "Hottie of the Week" - anything else would have been great, even a picture of Palin holding the severed head of a deer in her bloody hands, but alas - Hottie of the Week it shall be. Make note: this may be the ONLY time I am disappointed its Hottie of the Week time already.



Read more!

Prop 8 Passes in California

I feel so disheartened with California now that the reality of Prop 8 has settled in. Its an uphill battle that will have to be fought and won over time. Its only so disappointing because of all the people who fought so hard for the legislation to legalize gay marriage in the first place that only now looks as though it was all in vain. However, to me, it really makes me realize how many people are in the gray issue on the area - the same people who voted FOR gay marriage voted AGAINST it this past election.

Somewhere, I read that it would only be a matter of time before gay marriage became legal, because the younger generations are starting to discriminate less and less, and many more have gay friends now than the previous generation. That's why its so important for us to be a VISIBLE community instead of one that sticks to the shadows. Kiss your boyfriend on the street. Hold hands at the dinner table. Wear that glitter and mascara, and do not be afraid to speak on behalf of the gay community. If you don't, no one else will, and our issues will remain solely ours.

PS: I do realize not everyone wears glitter and mascara. But that makes it all the more important for those of us who do not fall into stereotypes to be vocal about who we are. We come in all shapes, all sizes, all colors and flavors - we need to show it off. Its nothing to be afraid of. As Angelique says: "I love it! I'm proud of it!" Read more!

Election 2008



Words can't express how amazing I feel about our country right now. Read more!

Survey About Me

I realize that people who may follow this blog bmay not know that much about me. Here is a survey that will paint a clearer picture for you.


01. What music do you listen to when you're feeling nostalgic?
Lots of folk, like Sufjan Stevens and Owen. I also tend to listen to folk on rainy days, at night, and sometimes early in the morning when I feel like I should still be asleep.

02. What are you wearing at the moment?
Gold t-shirt I got at Urban Outfitters the summer of 2007 in Berkeley with an eagle on it underneath the new gray sweater I got at Urban Outfitters yesterday for ten dollars. Tan American Apparel anorak, black skinny jeans and checkered vans.

03. What was the best part of your day?
Well, so far, it's been voting. Seeing my mom is always a pick-me-up, especially since I don't see her too much these days. Waking up this morning wasn't all that bad, either....

04. What is your favorite dish to cook?
I really like cooking breakfast. I've started cooking hashes a lot, with lots of spices, onions, and oftentimes fish. I also like buying fresh dough at Trader Joes and making my own pizzas.

05. What is your favorite drink?
Tea and beer. My favorite types of tea are oolongs - I think they are the most diverse and most flavorful. I am also really into gen maicha green tea. My favorite beers have been lagers, like most anyone else, but I've started heading into balanced ale territory - blondes, ambers and bitters.

06. What is your room like?
My room is the smallest in our three-bedroom house, but it has two closets and a balcony. This often makes it hard for me to find new positions to arrange my furniture in, especially with a clunky radiator I have to work around, but I'm not complaining. There are lots of earth tones, greens and browns and golds, with metallic and silver here and there. On top of both closets are small ledges, upon which I placed some toys that I have been given in my adult life. My favorite part of my room is my coffee table, stacked high with magazines of Shia Labeouf, my DVDs and my computer.

07. What is your favorite restaurant? What do you read?
Hmm, two random questions, so I'll answer them separately.

My favorite restaurant right now has to be my own, Commonwealth Gastropub (http://commonwealthgastropub.com) because it is local, green and delicious. Jamie Leeds and Sandy Lewis, the owners, are lesbian, too, so it helps the community.

I like to read lots of different kinds of stuff - right now I'm really into postmodernism. I also get into science fiction and some fantasy, although some aspect of it has to be based in reality. I didn't get into Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter, sorry.

08. What will you be doing after finishing this?
Probably try to pay attention in class.

09. What did you want to be when you grew up?
A published author, well-traveled, and respected.

10. Your favorite movie? What is your guilty pleasure?
My favorite movies are "Amores Perros" and "Run Lola Run." And "Fight Club."

My guilty pleasure(s)? Burgers (shh!), the Internet, and vh1.

11. Which family member are you closest to?
I can't really put this one on a scale. My mom and I get along great and terribly all at once - probably because we're very different. My sister and I are amazingly close - closer than I ever imagined we would be. Its hard to be away from her, and I know its the same for her.

12. What are you afraid of?
Being a slave to money.

13. Favorite thing to shop for? What are your favorite things to do on a free afternoon?
I like shoe shopping, like every other good diva on the planet. I also like grocery shopping.

On a free afternoon, I'll work out, play a little Wii, and go out to dinner or a movie. Or both. Or a bar and dance.

14. Gestures that bring you the most comfort?
Food, candy, kissing.

15. What's the meaning behind your LJ username/name/nicknames you go by?
Right now its julianish because some things that I do can only be described as such. Because I'm a diva. Dot com. Read more!

Stencils (not mine)

Here are some pictures of cool stencil graffiti I found online. Enjoy!




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First Chapter of My New Story

If you read it, please tell me what you think. Thanks so much. This is the first chapter of the story I'm writing on the man who falls into the sewer and has to find a way out. Thanks again.



He used his fingernails to scrape the hair off little by little. The brown fur, coarse and wiry over the soft, tender flesh was still warm. In the dim light he could see that it was coming off better than it had been by simply trying to rip it out. The body, which hung limp like a bag of sand, began to bleed through the pores where the hair had been forcefully removed. Going in the opposite direction of its growth, he could see the hair falling out, falling like the long brown ashes of the rat’s demise.

He held it in his open palm, his middle finger beneath its chin and its groin sitting on his wrist, the long shoestring tail dripping down along the underside of his forearm. He squeezed its neck as gently as he could with his right hand as he dragged his dirty fingernails across its flesh with his left hand.

He was sitting on his ass in three inches of muck-water, it trickling in a steady stream through the fibers of his jeans and the fabric of his shoes. The tube he was in was not more than four feet high, and the sound that the stream made echoed up in a spiral to his ears where he had learned to mute it out or distract him from the absolute aloneness of his situation. A pile of hastily collected newspapers lay next to him on the part of the sewer that slanted upwards, away from the stream of water so as not to get wet. More was shoved behind his back as a cushion.

He worked fast, his left hand peeling the hair off voraciously. He wanted to eat it warm. He had shaved from the neck down, not worrying about the head too much because he had no desire to eat that part. He went back and attacked the hairs he missed, pulling them at the root with great success. He returned to scraping down, an inch, two inches of bare rat flesh. It was harder to get the hairs around the feet and, like the head, he decided those would be a lost cause, as well.

He readjusted the small corpse in his hand and turned it on its side. The skeleton and warm innards slid beneath the rat’s thin layer of skin. The hairs were as greasy as they were coarse, like the fibers of an old broom. Its mouth hung open slack, tiny teeth like a zipper lining both the top and bottom lips. Down near the sides the hair was shorter and demanded more precise scraping to get it all out. Beads of dewy sweat appeared on his forehead as he worked harder, faster, his own insides moaning in desperation for food. It was like trying to rip out a grown man’s beard, the hairs were so coarse and crusted and short.

After a few more minutes of intense labor, he began to grow frustrated, readjusting the rat in his sweating hand, squeezing its neck a little tighter and making the blood seep out more intensely.

He began to shake, his teeth chattering, his hands unable to get a firm grip on any of the hairs that he targeted. His eyes strained in the darkness, and the echo of the gurgling water grew more intense. Squeezing his eyes shut and then forcing them open again, he pulled without method. The rat’s body became patchier, blood running down the length of his arm, under his elbow and down onto his jeans. Its body flopped back and forth as he pulled at it frantically. Its pink paws scraped his hands, the tail swinging back and forth like a tetherball rope.

He let out a short scream, using his left hand to pull and twist on the rat’s head and letting the right pull its body away. The head came clean off and its small weight made him drop it into the shallow pool of water below. The blood leaking from the body spurted in such a steady flow that it looked like a red piece of yarn connecting the rat to the sewer itself – a wet umbilical chord. His impatience was his salvation. Laughing giddily, he pulled the skin down from the neck and ripped it off the rat’s meat like a flesh coat, around its feet and tail. The red meat glistened in the darkness, sparkling in its naked freshness.

He thought, it looks like a quail. And he was right. Despite his immense hunger, he still had to convince himself that it was not exactly what it was. Patches of fur were clinging to his hands and he wiped them hurriedly on his jeans so as not to let it come into contact with the perfect, ripe crimson of the rat’s meat. The quail’s meat.

He reached into his pocket with his left hand and retrieved the lighter he had found the same day. He stood up slowly, his joints aching from the strain of his position, and turned towards the paper he had collected. With the lighter still in his hand, he bunched it all together, frequently having to adjust the bush together and away so as not to let it fall into the stream and be carried away by the current.

He worked quickly now, licking his lips (hungrily? greedily? nervously?). He used his free hand to pull out the rat’s tail, but it was harder than expected. His resolve unyielding, he wrapped the tail around his hand like a bandage and pulled downwards, and it snapped out like a strained rubber-band. He bled it for a few seconds, then reached into his back pocket where he had placed the thin, metal rod.

He pierced the ratmeat with the rod through the stomach, and twisted and pushed it inside, guiding it towards the back of what had been the rat’s neck. After a few seconds of sawing back and forth through the stringy flesh, the end of the rod popped through, an inch short of the bloody gash where the spine gaped open, as the rat’s mouth had done before it had been removed. As he took his hand off the rat’s body to see if the rod could sustain it, the entire corpse rotated upside-down, tugged on by gravity. With his thumb and his bent pointer finger, he held the body on the stick, and used his free hand to flick the lighter on.

He lowered the flame to the edge of a frayed sports page and the paper lit the tunnel up in a gorgeous amber hue that he had not witnessed in a long time. The luminous light, God-given, intended, was so bright he had to shield his eyes with his hand as it caught on the rest of the paper. He dipped the rat-stick into the fire and watched the skin sweat and then begin to color slightly as the fire, now more rapidly and with more intensity, picked up and consumed the rest of the paper. He had stuffed extra paper into his pants for insulation from the cold and began to unload it, little by little, feeding the fire as he rotated the meat like a rotisserie. The smell was gray and delicious, the smoke black and putrid, and the mixture made his eyes water.

He fed the fire for several minutes, enjoying its blessed warmth, watching as the meat darkened and glistened as though it had been glazed with sugar. Honey-baked rat meat. Peppercorn rat. Brined. Broiled. Boiled. Burnt. He lifted the meat away from the dying fire and squeezed it between two fingers. Its texture was now that of chicken, sinewy as string and so tender. Pan-fried. Deep-fried. Flash fried. French fries. His mind wandering, he pulled two pieces of the hot meat open and saw that it was still very rare in the center, and his supply of paper was almost out.

He thought, this is as good as its going to get.

He stuck it over the last of the flames, but in less than a minute, there was nothing but a few orange embers glowing pathetically amongst the ash and dirt. Lifting the meat to his nose, he sniffed it curiously, but could only smell the smokiness of barbequed meat. His hands quivering slightly, he lowered the meat to his mouth, and gingerly pulled at the meat with his teeth. Chicken. Quail. Rabbit. Squirrel. Rat.

He bit into it, and suddenly, … Read more!

The Most Important Day of the Year

Not to beat you over the head with the obvious, like everyone else is doing (Facebook and Myspace included), but don't forget to vote today. The reason we're all beating you over the head is because previous voter turn-out has been pathetic. Rock on! Read more!

Charm School 2 Update


This week's skanky cast-off was Megan of Rock of Love 2. Her kiniving, manipulative, aggressively-fake personality and breasts certainly have made the show interesting thus-far. In other words: she will be missed.

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San Francisco - once again, ahead of the curve

So, in spirit of the upcoming election (and by upcoming, I mean tomorrow), some rampant crazy San Franciscans have decided to rename Bush street in San Francisco. Check out their handiwork below.


Thanks to dcist.com for this story! Read more!

Full Circlez

My sister opened for Michelle Obama today in Las Vegas, Nevada. Read more!


And kind of sexy.

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