Riff and his Mum

An afternoon chat with my Mum

Love, Little Kiwi.

"Period Cock"

Mum, if you're reading this, know I love you so much and I'm so proud that you're supportive of everything I do, but don't watch this one.

You've been warned.

Little Kiwi

Back in (Karen) Black

Ok, so I saw showbiz legend Karen Black perform a one-woman cabaret/show about her life and career augmented by some rather bravura "Berlin Cabaret"-style vocals. It was a surreal Lynch-ian bliss-out. This woman is an icon. And it's interesting that she's attained iconic status in both the horror-fan community, and in the LGBT community, because let's be honest: us gays get her and she gets us gays. Her absolute radness was summed up, to me, in her complete willingness to pose for this shot with my pup-a-licious buddy Matt and I. I asked if we could give "Day of the Locust-shoulder". She gave us both a complete up-and-down scan, and purred "Of course, boyss."
She knew exactly what I meant. I love self-aware icons.

:-)

Why I Do What I Do

So, yes. Pride Parades *do* help.

Breaking it Down - Why are you still Prejudiced?

The New Tattoo

The beginning.

:-)

Tell Your Story, Save a Life

There's an incredible young man named Nathan Manske who has a new site up, and it's a terrific project.
www.imfromdriftwood.com
LGBT stories. Just little slices of life.
Share yours, hear others, and realise that none of us are alone.
I had the privilege to take part in this project. This is my video.

Talking it Out - Turning Anger into Cathartic Release

This is - Literally The Funniest Thing I Have Ever Seen In My Life

How Long Has This Been Going On?

May 27th, 2009. The day Prop 8 was upheld by the California Supreme Court saw protests marches across America. Here is a little video I took of the one I participated in in New York City. From Stonewall to Union Square. We will win this battle. Equality will be extended to us. And the history books will reveal Prop 8 supporters to be the shameful bigots that they are.

Here's a little video I took of my experience that day.

Pride Forever.

Prejudice

Thoughts on Life

Sorta speaks for itself. Enjoy!
Love, Little Kiwi



and more variations on themes....



and for the unintiated, the videos that made us laugh, and then made us cry.

Does Anyone Remember Laughter?

You know those moments when you're hanging out with a friend who's younger than you, but they're very mature and you never really think about them being younger until something "happens" and you suddenly have the age difference slammed into your face, shocking you into realisation that "kids these days" are actually adults, meaning you're an even OLDER adult? Yeah, that's what happened here. Enjoy!

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