Oscar Travesties

No, I'm not talking about the horrendous lapses in reason and judgement that allowed Crash (in the simplistically pandering tradition of The Shawshank Redemption and Dead Poets Society), Gladiator (swords, and sandals and blood, OH MY!), and Braveheart (historical inaccuracy at its zenith) to snag the coveted Best Picture statuette. I'm talking about those hideous song and dance numbers. And I'm not actually talking about the ones Hugh Jackman performed this year, which have their defenders and detractors in equal measure. I thought they were "ok" at best, and uninspired (musically) at their least. But by no means all-out travesties. Plus, dude is sexy and I don't mind watching him shake it one little bit.
No, my friends. For a real travesty, you must think back 20 years, in that dark dark time known as the 1980's. An era where Pia Zadora was a common fixture at A-list galas. When every year, a studio produced a feature length vehicle for the talents of Shelly Long. Women's shoulders couldn't be padded enough, there was no dress that could not benefit from more sequins being sewn on, and America was being run by an administration that never once mentioned the word AIDS. (See? I can never resist throwing in sociopolitical commentary, it's just who I am)
But then one Oscar night.....this abomination was unleashed on an unsuspecting public. It literally blows the mind with its sheer awfulness. On the plus side, it does cross over into the territory of the So Bad It's Good guilty pleasure. Like a Joel Schumacher wet-dream gone horribly wrong (as if a Joel Schumacher would be anything BUT horribly wrong anyway....) it simply must be seen to be believed.

Some Points of Interest:
1. Who the FUCK is this disaster that's playing Snow White, how many cocks did she suck to get this gig, and where is she now???
2. Who cobbled together this 'medley'? It's not witty, it's not aurally-pleasant, and nobody in that auditorium (or watching at home) is the least bit impressed.
3. Look at Sigourney Weaver at the 1:20 mark. She deserves an award for forcing that smile, while her eyes say "Bitch, if your no-talent ass dares to interact with me I will CUT YOU! I am ELLEN FUCKIN' RIPLEY!"
4. Just when you think it can't get any worse....it does. This is fucking hideous. Did a softly-retarded fifth-grader rewrite the words to these songs? Oh! Now they're parading out old-time Hollywood stars amidst this gaudy 80's puke festival, shitting on the concept of nostalgia.
5. At the 3:10 mark...Cyd Charisse!! Looking as lovely as ever, and bringing the sole touch of grace to this debacle. Well done, you.

And on and on and on and on..Rob Lowe and Snow White? Singing a horridly written nonsense version of Proud Mary (of all things)? Who thought this was a good idea?
LOOK!!! NOW THE TABLES AND CHAIRS ARE DANCING! THIS IS PANDEMONIUM!!!


So, yeah. Even if you didn't like the musical numbers of the past Oscar ceremony, at least we can take solace in knowing that it wasn't as bad as this.
Oh "Memories of my Hollywood" indeed.

Love, Little Kiwi

Just Some More Ramblings

Mok and Little Kiwi's alter-ego (Riff Randall, Rock'n'Roller) reflect on the countless lives that will be saved, and families that will be put back together, thanks to the incredible acceptance speeches by Dustin Lance Black and Sean Penn at the 2009 Academy Awards. Thank God for for TiVO (actually, it's not TiVo, it's some other version of recording live tv...) because as Black said his speech, Me, Mok and Mok's fiance pretty much lost our shit. I mean, fuck, I was a complete wreck, realising how much that speech was going to mean to all the LGBT children out there, and their friends and families, and I was just completely overwhelmed. We must have watched it 3 or 4 times. Then, when Sean Penn won, we fucking erupted with joy. "WE WON, WE WON!!!" And of course, his speech was incendiary and brilliant. Lance Black spoke to the LGBT people, specifically the youth, Penn spoke to those who are working so hard to deny them equality. Two completely necessary and life-saving speeches, my friends. Sure beats a laundry-list of agents, lawyers and such that other people seem to think constitutes a "speech".


So, that was that. Oscars. Speeches. Reflections of childhood. Religious hypocrisy. Mok and I roleplaying parents and kids having the "why Mommy and Daddy fight" talk....you know, just an average Wednesday night with my best friend.
:-)
Love ya!
Little Kiwi

Little Kiwi Loves Bauhaus!

Just a little laughter from Mok and Riff (aka, Little Kiwi) on a Monday night. Funny voices, references to Saturday Morning cartoon commercial bumpers, and a reference to a last week's discussion on my previous blog post (ie, "Dude, why are you posting pictures of your ass on your blog??)
*Little Kiwi stands by his beliefs about freedom of artistic expression and refuses to compromise his artistic integrity by putting on pants*

:-) Enjoy.


Oh! And for those who are either too young, too old, or didn't watch Saturday morning television between 1987 and 1992, this is what we're referencing.....

53rd and 3rd....NYC......1975

It's not just an intersection, it's a statement about homosexuality in the 1970's. Dee Dee Ramone, punk rocker extraordinaire (and one of my first gay crushes) used to hustle on 53rd and 3rd in the 1970's. My idol, Ethan Mordden, has written about the male hustlers who lined the street back then, looking for johns, hoping to make a buck, get a meal, make it through one more week. The young man, unpolished, hardened by a homophobic society, makes his way to NYC in hopes of finding 'something better', but a big city can be just as unforgiving as a small town. Then there's the boys who weren't gay, but did what they had to do to make a buck. Beautiful blonde mid-Western boys. Skinny punked out golden thugs. Angel faces. Faces that have weathered storms.
Faces that can't smile anymore, but can sneer, smirk, or stare you down with grimly intense carnality.



I've had an obsession with vintage gay erotic imagery for as long as I can remember. Joe D'Allessandro. OMG, Joe D'Allessandro, wow. I remember watching all those Andy Warhol/Paul Morrissey films and just dyyyyyyying over the blank, expressionless sexuality of "Little Joe". *sigh* Then we have Jon King. The "Noll Brothers" (SCOTT NOLL is my dream). Brian Hawks. In my early teens, late tweens, I read a biography of Dee Dee Ramone, and it touched on his time spent working as a rentboy. In my pre-adolescent (ie, "stupid") mind I remember thinking, "Damn...that's so HOT!" *sigh*

But it goes further than just the concept of "hot". I'm intrigued by who these young men were, and are. The young guy who poses for photos in a grimy setting for a couple of bucks. The men of all ages who buy the magazine and fantasize about the young man in the photographs. Who is he? Where is he? What would he rather have been doing than posing nude? No matter where he ended up, his image is burned in their minds, perhaps forever. A couple of bucks for one man, but an entire ideology of sexuality to another. That these photographs, in these magazines, get passed around, traded, shared, remembered.

When you look at those vintage 70's (and earlier) gay erotic films and photos, you're looking at social history, not just sexual history. My absolutely insane crush on 1970's porn star Scott Noll. He's DREAMY.

But did he think, back in the 70's, that he'd be remembered by some kid 30 years later? Did he know, when he got paid to pose for those photos, or make those films, that he would be an Icon of Sexuality to generations? Probably not. Heck, there was no such thing as "home video" back then.
He wanted to make a quick buck to get through the week. But he unknowingly became immortalized in the minds of many, myself included.



The mix of trash and sex. Filth and beauty. A gorgeous young man in a completely non-gorgeous setting. The young and beautiful and bruised stripped down to nothing to make ends meet. Dichotomies. Must a person remove their dignity with their clothes? Who enjoyed being naked? Who hated it? Can one ever really tell? How many sex-fantasies do people have involving public toilets? The fetishizing of non-sexual things such as knee-socks, jockstraps, soccer shorts, long hair, Converse shoes, army boots, etc.

It's not just an aesthetic thing, it's what those items remind you of that makes them sexual.

So, that's what this (me playing dress-up, or "dress-DOWN") was about. Iconography. Inhabiting that character. Adopting their signature props. The hair. The shoes. The socks. The frowns.

These guys who I'll never meet, many of whom have long since passed, left a very specific mark on me and how I perceive sexuality, sex, sensuality, art, and body image. I grew up listening to 70's rock and punk music, and a lot of classical and opera. My adolescence was, thanks to the internet, greatly influenced by the sexual imagery of the 1960's and 70's. I'm nostalgic for an era I've never experienced, and I tip my hat to those men and women who explored the sexual realm back then, and continue to do so today. I'm one who believes there is actually a rather positive psychological benefit to pornography and/or erotica. It says "Yeah, you're not the only one who's into this." Heck, there were times (ugh, that still exist in many places) where people are still told that it's not only "wrong and immoral" to have thoughts about members of the same gender, but that NOBODY ELSE HAS THEM. Uh....thanks, Mindfuck Jones. Pornography (when made properly) shows that sex can be fun, humourous, exploratory, highly emotional, adventurous and more. Fetishes. "Scenes". "Types". The props. The costumes. The roles. The attitudes. It's all out there. As weird and unique as you think (hope?) you are, you're not the only person who's into the things you're into.

Little Kiwi

Try to Stay Focused, Boys....

But we can't! It's IMPOSSIBLE! Tangents, tangents, tangents!
Ok, so Mok and I are all over the place. This is what happens when you smoke and try to figure out world peace. You just get sidetracked. On the upside, you also remember some very funny stories. World War II leads to Vietnam leads to Bad Comedy leads to us stating that we include "Pippin" in the list of the "couple thousand musicals that we hate", bus gets brought back around to the comedy show, bad 80's clothes, and WASP's that don't understand why their "Hampton's Humour" doesn't translate to an NYC audience. And then back to Vietnam. It's pretty rad.
Enjoy.
Little Kiwi (aka, Riff Randall: Rock N'Roller)




Oh! And here's the "Select Dental" commercial we find so hilarious. This version has the insert from the comedian guy we talk about during our rambles. He's pretty funny. The original version of this commercial is pretty legendary in the NYC area. It's just so lame. And that guy talking about his "WIFE"? yeahhhh.....wife.....right. Mhmmm..
Enjoy.

Putting it All in Perspective

Well...sorta....so, Little Kiwi's alter ego Riff (aka, "Riff Randall, Rock N'Roller) continues to ponder the deeper questions in life with his best friend Mok (aka, "My name is Mok, thanks a lot).
Did we solve world peace? Well, get 420 friendly and decide for yourself!
Of course we're too random to make it stick, but hey, that's life.
But we stand by our assertions.
It's completely fucked up that America is up in arms over Michael Phelps smoking pot while the majority seems to not care about the fact that a Majority has just decided what a minority group can or cannot do. Gay marriage is being banned. Other states are passing laws to deny gay couples partner benefits (medical, etc.), and wayyyy more because "it might lead to gay marriage".
This is bullshit. Every religious organisation that has a "we think homosexuality is wrong" stance has blood on their hands, and ditto the people who continue to support and ennable them. I'm not saying "give up your religion", I'm saying "Grow a fucking pair of balls and have the decency to stand up to institutions that are propagating anti-gay ideologies." The Pope has red red hands, my friends. Oh, and Fuck the Mormon church and their ennablers, and fuck all the gay Mormons who stand by their cult and say "Well...there's a lot of Good in the LDS church...". FUCK that. Everything that you think is good about the LDS exists in other forms of spiritual/religious outlets with NONE of the crap your fucking cult (because that's what it is, folks) propagates.
Hey Mormons, remember that part of your Book about how black people are a cursed race of Cain and how God made them black to show how cursed they are, and they're not "pure" and when they die, IF they get to heaven somehow, they'll only enter heaven as "servants"? Remember that? Because I do.....

So Prop 8 passing was a disgrace. Seriously. "Civil Unions" is a cop-out. Civil Unions is saying "Hey, there's something inherently 'inferior' about you people, so we can't have you drinking from OUR drinking fountains, so we're going to make you your own, and they serve the exact same purpose, and they have the exact same water in them, and they're just for you, but you can't call it a 'drinking fountain' because that's OUR word, but you can call yours (which is the same thing) a "water dispenser", becase we recognise that you gay people want to drink water.."
Bullshit. Everyone that voted for Prop 8 is a disgrace to human equality, and MLK is no doubt rolling in his grave over this. It's appalling. Prop 8 supporters will one day be apoligised for and forgotten like the anti-integrationists of previous decades.


Michael Phelps only knows how to swim. He swims every day, and then he trains out of the water TO swim every day. For years. Every day. The he enters his swimming races. And he wins lots of medals. And then he takes time off. And he drinks. And smokes pot. And gambles. And you all judge him for not behaving that way YOU would like. Fuck you. You broke a human. You made a human a machine and then expected him to live up to your standards of socially acceptable behavior when all he really knows how to do is swim. So fuck you, it's your fault, not his.

Talkin' 'bout 'ginas

'Ginas as in VA-ginas. Vaginas. Plural.
Well, Mok and I had a really deep discussion going about the world, where we all fit in, blah blah blah, and naturally it progressed towards the vagine. And luckily (or maybe unluckily) for us, it was captured on tape. This is pretty much minures 17-23 of a thirty minute conversation that spanned space and time. Yay. Enjoy.





Oh....and for your viewing pleasure, here's the video of the aerobic queef that we're both obsessed with!

The Single Ladies of Antarctica

Well, actually, it's Lake Ontario, just 90 minutes East of Toronto. WOOHOO!
A weekened of champagne and sweet mary-jane kisses and a near-constant habit of taking the piss out of Beyonce Knowles and her recent obsession with quasi-Fosse choreography.

So, two of my single ladyfriends took to the frozen lake, with little miss Bauhaus (not her real name) in tow.




That's all for now. I promise a sociopolitical rant any day now, I'm in the midst of exams and can't formulate a cohesive thought to save my life.

Hangovers, Dogs and Why Catholicism Sucks

The secret really is more booze. Just kidding. It's Pot! And that's the truth. *phhhthhhhbbbbbt*
HAHAHA! Edith-Ann. :-)
But seriously, this is a video of three hungover dudes. At the lakehouse, new years' day, hungover to high heaven, downing coffee and advil liquigels like there's no tomorrow.*

*(Ok, and nobody get all Dr. Know-it-All on me about the dangers of taking advil on a liver-damaged hungover system. I don't give a fuck if I hurt my liver, I just want my headache to go away so I can resume drinking again as soon as possible. You should just be happy I'm not behaving like that cokehead I used to date and snorting line after line of blow instead)

Anyway, it seemed to work, because in no time we were out romping on the frozen lake, as documented in a previous post and soon to be followed by the world premier of our Antarctic Single Ladies music video which I'm currently in the process of editing.

I just wanted to post this video because whenever people hear "pitbull" they freak out like I said "nazi child-molesting cannibal priest" or some shit. Hahah, did I just say what I think I said? I think I did. Hahaha. How redundant. Everyone knows priests are just child-fucking Nazis who eat human flesh. It's just common knowledge.
And don't get all sanctimonious on me and defend those kidfuckers. The Catholic Church should be able to keep its own fucking nose clean before it goes around criticizing any other groups of people.
But anyway, back to my main thesis which is "Pitbulls are Reflections of Their Owners". For example, Bauhaus (not her real name) is the cutest, most lovable creature ever. Just like her owners. And she only attacks people who vote Conservative. Just like her owners. And she can lick her own privates. Just like....well....*sigh*.........not anymore.
Anyway, enjoy.



So yeah. Pitbulls are adorable, loyal and loving dogs that will externally reflect the internal nature of their owners, Hangovers suck, but advil, Pepto Bismol (Cherry!), weed and good friends sure can make all the difference, and Roman Catholicism is a hypocritical and archaic institution that exists solely to keep itself and the men who run it adorned in frilly frocks and jewels, all the while condemning those who are 'different'. Seriously. That is all.
Love, Little Kiwi

Need a Laugh?

Because, my friends, this video never ceases to crack me up.
Beautifully spot-on, it evokes a specific time and place and era in filmmaking. Consider this my mid-week gift to you.



For the record, it's from the 80's film "Loose Shoes" which is a compilation of fabricated trailers and trailer spoofs for different films through the decades.

Consider it a belated Christmas gift from Little Kiwi. I'm sorta like Santa. But with a pack instead of a keg.

:-)

How it Begins.....

A love for the theatrical. Music, lyrics, and finding romance in the most seemingly mundane of experiences. Flights of fancy. The discovery of 'camp' value.
And of course....that musical that excites you in such a way that you feel you are someone else.
For me, it was West Side Story.
For Lil'Jake, here, it's Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera.







Adorable, eh? And I truly hope that the humour his family finds in it stays just that way, and doesn't cross over into shame, embarassment or oppression.
Because this is how it (often) starts. Am I making a flat-out prediction for the kid's future? No. I'm just saying that....sometimes...this is how it starts. And if this is how it starts for lil'Jake, I simply hope his family keeps their good humour about it.  

Best of luck on your journey, kiddo!
:-)
Little Kiwi

How Canadians Do It

So, it was the first day of 2009. Spent the holiday with two great friends at my lakehouse, surrounded by snow, ice, stars and that's about it.
Then we had a lovely inebriated walk on the lake.
:-) Enjoy.

You Jews, You WONDERFUL Jews!

That's a quote from "Marci X". Yeah, that Lisa Kudrow film that nobody saw except me. And a few gays (and their friends) in Chelsea who were probably extras. Or in the dance sequence. But yeah, I totally just name-checked it. If you're reading this and you're gay, or my sister, then you probably know what I'm talking about.
She plays a Jewish record Exec, and she raps about her purse. You know, standard "fish out of water" comedy. Like that Shelly Long vehicle (*gasp*! remember such a concept?!?!) "Troop Beverly Hills." In "Marci X", Kudrow overcomes racial issues by becoming a rapper or something to that effect. In "Troop Beverly Hills", Long overcomes being rich and entitled by becoming a Girl Scout Leader and leading her rich troops to a victory at Girl Guide Camp by defeating all the poor kids. Or Something to that effect. Both have multiple (!) song numbers.
WAIT?!?!? Why am I telling you this?!?! This is a BLOG! I can probably show you!
Yeah. Pure gold, I tell's ya!
Enjoy.
TROOP BEVERLY HILLS


My God, the clothes. Were the 80's ever really THAT 80's?!?! Brutal. I love it. The cameos! The young 80's teen star girls who were in EVERYTHING back then! The gaggingly awful cameos! Stephanie fucking Beacham. Fuck OFF with this insanity.
Oh and if any of you gays haven't see it, Shelly Long's maid in the film is played by fuckin' ROSARIO. Yeah. Rosario worked for Shelly Long before Karen Walker, apparently. It's insane.

I can't be fucked to look for a Marci X clip online. If you care deeply enough search for one yourself. It's the same thing as Troop Beverly Hills only with the differences I described.
Isn't that funny how I totally started out talking about that film then totally flaked out on it in the end? HAHAHAHA!
Just thought I'd give ya some backstory.
;-)

So, Happy Hanukkah! Chanukah! Channukkaahh! I can't decide which spelling to use because it appears that even the Jewish community hasn't settled on picking one yet. Just the way us gays still can't decide if we're gay (yay!), queer (yay!), homosexual (boo!), "into guys" (BOOOO! and Bull-SHIT on THAT!), etc. etc. ad nauseum.
And I like this video. Check it out.



HAHAHHHAHHAHA! Funny, eh? I like it because I get nostalgic just thinking about playing that game with my ass-kickingly awesome sister when we were kids. She got it for Christmas, it was RAD!, we played it forever.
And I love that a bunch of dudes just made this video for fun and put it on youtube. I dunno. They're giving the world humour, and they're having fun being creative, and let's be honest, they're probably ten times more fun to hang out with at school than the fucking lame-ass jock crowd. So I'm givin' props to my Jews, you fucking rock.
:-)
Love, Little Kiwi

Halloween '08

Ok. So Mok and I are HAMMERED! Like, if we were a shitty song from the early 90's, we'd be "HAMMER TIME!".....wait....was that actually the name of a song or just something he yelled? I can't remember, but I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.
Are you picturing him in his funky Aladdin-pants yet? :-)
Heheheheh

HAMMERTIME!

Totally Rad.

So, Mok went as Disgusting Headwound Victim. I went as Aladdin Sane - era David Bowie. Everyone thought I was Ziggy Stardust, so I just started saying I was Ziggy Stardust, because you know what? It's fucking close enough. If you can give me ANY Bowie reference I will accept it. One guy was like "Are you the Flash"? No. And clearly you don't know who The Flash even is, or who Bowie is, so you don't deserve to live.
So I killed him and Mok and I dumped the body in the Hudson river.

Then we went to a party! It was in the East Village. It was fun. We got DRRRRRRRRRRUNK on other people's booze. It went something like this:
*the boys arrive at the apartment where the party is*

AladdinSane: Oh fuck....is this a BBBQ, with the extra B meaning BYOBB and that extra B being a typo?
HeadWoundVictim: Oh....yeah....ok, let's just drink their alcohol and see what happens.

AladdinSane: YAY!

So we did, and it was drunktastic. Funny...Halloween in NYC and I don't have any pics of like...the craziness on the streets, the random costumes, the utter insanity.

Oh well, I have pics of me and Mok and we look FAB!

Remember how "Mean Girls" totally called girls on their slutty shit costume idea of simply dressing like a ho while wearing ears that denote some kind of mammal? There's a gay version! There are, in fact, several. And they all suck.
1. "Fallen Angel". ... a guy in a thong or speedo, with angel wings (usually black), body glitter and stupid face makeup. and that's all. FUCK him. he's stupid.

2. "sexy athlete". this is simply a dude in athletic clothing that's been kept to a bare minimum (no pun intended)
Wow. You put on short shorts and worked out all day and now you're a "slutty football player" or something? That suuuuuuucks.

3. "sexy _____". Basically a guy in underwear or a bathingsuit, who then uses body paint to draw on whatever the fuck he's supposed to 'be'. it's lame.

There were lots of HeathLedger Jokers this year. Some good, some lame. Ditto with all the Palins, and all those college boys who dress as "The Crow". Wow. You're The Crow. Work it out. By the way, the mid-nineties called and want their ideas back.

OH! And what's with all the gay leather men that simply wear their leather gear? That's not realllllly a costume. I mean, it would be if I was doing it. But you ALWAYS do the leather thing, so it's not really ...well,.... a costume. For Halloween you should dress as some other gay thing...um...like ....a gallery owner. Or wear a business suit. Or dress like a twink. You have to have some sense of irony about it all.

It was a rad night out, and I had a lot of fun. :-)

For Once, I Don't Know What To Say....

........................................................................................................................................................
...............................................................................................
............................just watch this little video.





It's like a Little Kiwi stoner hallucination directed by David Lynch!!!
And it has Dolly!
YAY!

Hidden Talents

Ok, since the beginning of the concept of "celebrity", undeserving celebutards have attempted to crossover into the music scene. Some were spectacular failures and some were insanely well received. Some were so bad they were forgotten. And some were so fucking good that it literally feels like a crime against art that they were not properly recognised.
Milla Jovovich falls into the latter category.
Milla Jovovich. Model. Actress. Singer/Songwriter. "The Divine Comedy" was Milla's 1994 album of absolutely incredible folk-world-pop. She wrote every fucking song. And her vocals are not only more than competent, they're downright superb and reverberate with true artistry and passion.
Milla Fucking Jovovich. For real.
I've had the album since I was in my teens and whenever I play the album for people, they're always shocked that it's Milla.
"The chick from The Fifth Element??" "Thet Revlon model???"
Yeah. And she's fucking amazing. Here's a clip of here, singing live, and I think it speaks for itself. She's like a Tori Amos meets Bjork meets Joni, and she's like 17/18 when this was recorded. Amazing stuff.




Wow, eh? And why didn't more people know about this? Why are we subjected to the inane and largely contemptuous vanity projects from such twats as Lindsay Lohan? Heck, even Eddie Murphy's abysmal "Party all the Time" managed to make the charts, and it SUCKKKKED!
Scarlett Johannson releases and album of Tom Waits covers. Lindsay Lohan has released THREE albums. THREE. Bruce Willis had two. Eddie Furlong ( the snot-nosed twerp from T2: Judgement Day) cut an album in China, as did Alyssa Milano, and a bunch of soap opera girls n'guys whom I've never heard of, and can't be bothered to look up right now (google it if you care enough to question me).
Crappy crap crap, but it made money. That's just annoying. Like, Jennifer J.Lo Lopez. Successful albums. MILLIONS sold. But does anyone consider her a "singer"? A songwriter? She's neither. She's a BRAND NAME. And then here we have this absolute gem of an album from Milla, a genuine piece of artistry, free from the commercialized 'spin' of target demographics and marketing, and nobody freaking knows about it.
*sigh*
It's like a beautiful secret I've been able to share with friends for years. Have a listen, and if you like it (which, if you have any sense at all, you will) you should check out the album.
The Divine Comedy, by Milla.

Cuz I's Bein' All Thankful N'shit

So it's Canadian Thanksgiving, which is like American Thanksgiving but without the aftertaste of aboriginal genocide, the raping of natural resources, and the spreading of syphillis.

Hehehehehehe.

So I'm thankful this year for a lot of things. I'm thankful for the clarity of mind that I often consider to be more of a curse. Do I become a grump about things (very) occasionally? yeah. But if it wasn't for those moments I wouldn't have the highs that come after, which are truly fucking spectacular. I love my friends. I love my family. I love that I can be who I am, in every respect, to these people and they love me BECAUSE it it, not in spite of it. That's not usually the case for most of us gay people.

I have a mum and dad that don't treat my sexual orientation as something that "doesn't matter". Quite the opposite. They think it does matter. And they celebrate it. It's pretty rad.
I'm Thankful for that. I used to say my life is blessed, but I'm struggling with that concept right now. Does that mean that everyone with shitty parents and crap friends, or no friends, is not blessed? Are there blessings, or is it all sheer dumb luck? Or is the blessing not the things we have in life, but how we deal with the things we have?
I have no idea. Expect further explorations into the realm of Philosophy and Religion from me, for now all I really know for sure is that I have a rockin' family, the best friends in the world, and they give me the support system I need to curb my overriding cynicism that I'm sure is far too overwhelming for most people to deal with.
*whew*

It's funny, when you go your whole life feeling completely and utterly misunderstood, you let that feeling taint everything else that follows. We need to let that go. It's amazing when you look at yourself in your mid-twenties and you see....the loser queer faggot nobody that your primary school "peers" insisted that you were. You see the unworthy, also-ran chump that your ex-boyfriend convinced you that you were for farrrrrrrr too fucking long. Why is that? Why don't we see the person that our best friend sees? Why don't we see the person that the people who truly KNOW and LOVE us see? We get so convinced that we're what our enemies say we are, that we put greater value on that bullshit, than the truth which comes from those who know us best.

I'm thankful for finally being able to recognise it. I haven't truly adopted it into my mind yet, I still struggle with self-image, I still struggle with self-worth, but at least I know I'm struggling with it, and not simply being victim to it.
I used to wish that I was stupid, because stupid people always seem to be enjoying life so much. Everything is uncomplicated, everything is simple, everything is free from the overanalytic thought processes of the Intellectual.

But I don't know if that's really happiness. It's so limited. You only know joy when you've known true sorrow. You only know light when you've experienced pure darkness. You only truly know a great mind when you've dated a completely moronic pumped-up prettyboy with a drug addiction and a tendency to get abusive when he drinks (hourly) whose "hot looks" act as compensation for his mediocrity in all other areas.
Not that I'm speaking from experience or anything.

;-)

I'm just saying, I'm thankful for awareness. I embrace the sting, for I have faith there will be sweetness that follows, even if I have to wait a while for a taste.

:-)

Relics of the Past

Ok, so I found this old picture of me, from when I was like 20 years old, and I totally busted a gut laughing at it. Ohhh, little young me. Little Young Me with my angsty pre-emo love for Bowie lyrics and ninth-grade artschool attempts at visual representation of inner conflict.
*sigh*
Those were simpler times. Times so simple that I used to believe this pic was 'deep'.

It aint. But it sure is funny.

Behold, youth.

Now I Remember Why I Gave Up Dancing....

So You Think You Can Dance: Canada

Where to begin, oh where to begin..... Blake McGrath, the judge? Irritating beyond belief. Why is he always dressed like a background dancer from a 2000-era episode of (the American) Queer as Folk? Stupid chest-exposing vests that show he has....a tat of a chain? And a stupid generic arm-band tat that just screams "I'm from small town Ontario!"

Gag. GAAAAAAAAG. puke. gag and then puke. ugh. And did you see the towel around his neck? It was covered in beige makeup. Like, he's so completely made up that when he mops his brow layer upon layer of MAC comes off. BLARRRRRRRRRRF!

And then there was some boy from the prairies, whose name I can't remember.
Black hair. Blue eyes. Gayest Eyebrows Ever. And lips that I'm sure he's proud of, but to me just evoke horrid visions of Lisa Rinna (go ahead. Google her).

And then he opens his mouth to speak....
*ahem*
"I know that looks can only take you so far. I'm going to show the judges that there's more to me than just a face..." Oh, I get it.  You believe that what you see in the mirror is the worldwide definition of "HOT".  You believe you are the Gold Standard for "Hot". I don't. My friends don't. Sorry. My best friend and I were HOWLING with laughter at his soundbite. We even gave you a nickname!  Lipsy Bosomworth!  Like....maybe you were the hottest shit out in the prairies, but GIRL.....you need a WAKE UP CALL! Stop waxing your fucking eyebrows, it makes it seem like you wish you had a vagine. A HUGE vagine.

It's bad enough that Blake thinks he's supersexworld incarnate (debatable!) but to also have some dancerboy rambling on about how he knows he has to be more than just "hot"....ugh. Puh-LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE.

I'm not even going to get into the whole thing about how "hot" is subjective, instead I'll just pretend that my opinion, and not theirs, is canon, and suggest that perhaps a Manitoba 10 is more like an Ontario 5. Or something. You know what I mean.

Oh well, just felt like letting you all know that I'm not buying into the douchebaggery of SYTYCD Canada. I promise to blog about something I love sometime soon.

For real.
:-)

LIGHT CYCLE 4

My band. We're rad. Album being released independantly. 80's synth new wave pop rock trip hop awesomeness.
What do we sound like? We sound the way that neon looks.
We sound like lights shining off the wet pavement in an early Ridley Scott film.

If Berlin and David Bowie had sex with Tangerine Dream and New Order, the love child would be LIGHT CYCLE 4.

Rad.
:-)

But This is Just Plain Weird...

Ok. I literally just found this on youtube. It has less than 150 views. It's stupid. But you have to just wonder about it all......
-Who wrote and recorded this song?
-Where did you, the videomaker, first hear this song?
-What made you think it needed a Walt Disney Pictures' Hunchback of Notre Dame music video?
-How long did it take to decide which clips to use, and where?
-How long did it take to get the editing just right?
-Seriously, WHAT inspired this?
-You were cracking up the entire time you made this, eh?
-Can I have some of what you're smoking?
-Please?
-For real. You made this video. Are you happy? I'm kinda happy you made it. It's just weirdly wonderful, in the most inanely tacky way.
Yeah. For real.

Enjoy.

The Condescension Festival of Late-Nite Television

Ahhh....late-nite TV. So tacky they refer to it with improper spelling. *sighhhh*
Nite. Cuz dats how it looks like it should be spelled. The programming? Who cares? Tit movies. Car movies. Exploding Car & Tit movies. Starring Richard Greico (*yum*).
Or Shannon Tweed. Who I think fucking rocks. For real. She's totally rad.

But anyway, late-nite tv is condescending. Once it's past 1am, the networks don't care. The advertisers don't care. You see shitty shows and shittier commercials. This is the domain of the non-union (ie, not SAG or ACTRA) performer. Horrid *actors* that were hired at a casting at a club in downtown Detroit one night inform you of the fun of "Party Lines*, trying in vain to hide their brrrrrrrrrrutal local accents.
Commercials for smoking-addiction cures. Commercial after commercial asking if I've been in an auto accident, have outstanding traffic fees, or need a good,cheap criminal lawyer or perhaps a community college. Wow. The TV thinks so highly of me.
The shows are dumber, and the commercials are literally selling their products phonetically - each one talking at me like I'm softly retarded or something.
Advertisers pay for when their commercials air. They're looking to reach their target demographic. Apparently, people who watch COPS at 2:30AM have outstanding warrants, need to go to college, need a lawyer, are bad drivers, and smoke too much.
Who are we kidding, they're probably right, but it's still a marked difference from primetime programming.
I love the little differences.

Just Plain Weird

Ok. Longcat. There are TONNES of "longcat" videos, fan pics and other assorted bits of weirdness on the internet. What is long cat? I don't really know where it originated from, but it's a very very long cat. There must be some pop-cultural reference I'm simply too unhip to understand, but I'm obsessed with the utter insanity that is this music video.
I don't really know what's going on, but I like it!

The Online Profile Rosetta Stone!

Here it is folks! Little Kiwi is here to save you all by translating the ridiculous codes that are online profiles! You may think it's a simple case of reading a profile and taking it literally. You're wrong. I'm here to help! I've left the world of online behind. It's too crazy, but for all of you still giving it a shot, I'll do my best to impart what I've learned.

Let the translations begin!

Ok, we have the different groups of males online, most easily defined by their screen-names. There are the guys that describe themselves in purely physical terms. These people are usually about as stupid as a drunken child. They have no imagination, they usually are borderline illiterate, and they buy into the generic middle-American idea of "hot". Their names are usually various combinations of the following words:
Masc Jock Frat Stud Muscle Varsity Abercrombie Hollister Dude Bro Fitch 69. Yeah, they usually throw a number in there too. Usually it's 69. Subtle, eh? How deep.

Now, there aren't too many different combinations for those coveted keywords, so you see some pretty wack-ass names. "BroDudeMuscleFrat69". "HollisterJockMasc4Masc".
I'd love to serve them all molotov cocktails. But anyway....if you see people with these names, they're worth nothing more than a fuck. But I suggest this instead, DON'T fuck them. You can be a slut, just be an ethical one. Don't reward such mediocrity.
I have learned that the only thing more completely satisfying than going home with a totally "Conventionally Hot" guy is seeing the look on his face when you tell him you're not interested. It's fucking PRICELESS! Possibly more fun than sex. I'm not even kidding.

:-)

Then there are the hidden clues in profiles. I have learned that guys that put in their profile that they're "not into drama" are always, always, the ones that create drama. They're usually borderline insane. Like that italian freak I blogged about a few days ago. They invent the drama. They are drama.
"Not into Drama" - Translation: "I don't ever want to be disagreed with about anything ever. I have no brains, and no ability to rationalize intellectually, and I cannot be challenged on even the slightest or seemingly trivial circumstances."

"VGL" - 'Very Good Looking' - Translation: I'm the most stuck-up, conceited, socially unaware human being on the planet. My ultimate goal, every day, is to be the hottest guy walking down the street. I consider what I look like to be "hot" and any variations or deviations are considered, by me, to be lesser. Word of warning: if I get turned down by a guy I get really really really angry about it, because I believe that everyone should be into me. Because I'm really really into myself.

"Str8-acting/Str8-looking" - Translation: "I'm ashamed and embarassed to be gay. I hate myself, I have gay shame, and I'd rather side with the enemy (homophobic straight bigots) than with my own community. I wish I was straight, and I feel threatened by gay people who are openly, proudly gay, because even though they're more flamboyant, they have bigger balls than I'll ever have. In fact I have no balls at all."
That's what the usage of the term "str8acting" means. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Take it from LittleKiwi, you all have permission to shove your fist down the throat of anyone you hear using the term "str8acting". It's so homophobic and self-hating. Seriously. Fist down throat.

"I like to have fun" - Translation: "I'm a simpleton." For real? You like to "have fun"? Wow. State the obvious, much? Of course you like to "have fun". If you didn't like it, it wouldn't be fun, now would it? "Having fun" is not a thing, it's a feeling you get from doing SOMETHING that you enjoy! Everyone finds different things fun, that's why you're supposed to list the things you enjoy doing. "Fun" itself is not an activity, it's a reaction to an activity. There's no world resource of monitored "Fun" that everyone dips into.
I can see it now:
MascJockFratStud69: Hey dude, I like to have fun.
CollegeFitchMuscBro: Cool bro, me too! I Love having fun! We have so much in common!
MascJockFratStud69: Dude! Wanna meet up and have fun?
CollegeFitchMuscBro: Yeah bro!
*they meet up in CollegeFitchMuscBro's bachelor apartment in Vaseline Tower*

MascJockFratStud69: Ok, let's start having fun!
*MascJockFratStud69 starts smashing plates over his head, while CollegeFitchMuscBro puts on a Britney Spears cd and starts vogue-ing naked to his mirror*
CollegeFitchMuscBro: What are you doing???
MascJockFratStud69: Huh? What are YOU doing!?! That isn't fun at all!
CollegeFitchMuscBro: Yes it is! You're not having fun properly! That's not what fun is! You're such a liar!

MascJockFratStud69: YOU'RE the liar! You said you liked to have fun! This is bullshit!!
*both men are shocked with disappointment at their inability to have fun together*

See how much easier it would have been if they'd just listed the specifics? *sigh* It's all in the details, folks.

Now, if you see a person that says they're only into their own ethnicity, this person is a racist. I'm not joking. That's not "personal preference", that's not "taste in men", that's unaddressed internal racism. End of story. Don't fucking argue with me on this. I'm right.
All those guys who write "not into fats, fems, asians or blacks" need to be wiped off the face of earth. That is some sick prejudiced shit there, my friends. Don't reward that kind of intellectual mediocrity. Be an Ethical Slut. Don't fuck a racist. Don't fuck a self-hating homophobe.

There's also the flipside, people who are (for whatever reason...) ashamed of their own ethnicity. So much that they don't list what ethnicity they are, or they use colour-doctoring and odd angles in their photos to make it seem that they're not the ethnicity that they truly are. This is baffling to me. Are these people trying to trick racists into sleeping with them? Do they plan on meeting people and posing at only certain angles while they surround themselves in ridiculous Photoshop lights so that they have an angelic halo of non-ethnicity around them? It's just weird. Don't be ashamed of what you are, and if someone isn't into because of your ethnicity, then that person is a worthless racist and not worth your time anyway. Done and Done.

PHOTOS:
Photos on a profile should be of you. You recently. Ever have someone send you a photo and say "it's not a very good photo" as they're sending it? Why? Why are you sending a photo if it isn't very good? Aren't we gay? Don't we ensure that the only photos that make it onto our harddrives are ones we'd be proud to show off? Why upload and send a pic if it's a piece of shit? Or better yet, a guy with a photo of himself...in the distance..weaing a baseball cap...and sunglasses...with his head tilted up at that weird angle that gives him a thick neck (which is his intention) but makes him look like an all-chin/all-neck stroke victim (which is NOT his intention). Irritating.

Abercrombie? Hollister? Puka shell necklaces? Backwards caps? Maybe if you're a gay and closeted teen on Myspace. But that's it. Out of highschool? Leave that shit BEHIND!

Then there's the people who post picture of themselves....from like 8 years ago. Great. Nice. It's totally worth it to know that the out of shape Mr. Burns lookalike was once a fit young lad, wayyyy back when he was in his early twenties. Now please let me step into my time machine so I can bone the person in the photographs. Thank you. What's that? Time machines haven't been invented yet? Oh, right! Now fuck off and get some recent photos. No sense in lying to people.

Well, that's all for now, tune in next time when I mercilessly tear apart some other group of people for your benefit.
:-)
Love, Little Kiwi