Archive for September 17th, 2007

The most boring of Boring-Ass weeks
Monday September 17 2007 @ 12:09 pm

Warning: this was a particularly boring week. Short of going to a gay bar, hitting Vegas for a wedding, and getting discriminated against for the length of my shorts, all I did was watch a shitload of DVD’s.


I wake up, drop Harley off at school, then check email and blog most of the morning. Around noon, I get in the shower, then Malcolm and I drive over to the Eagle L.A. – a leather bar – for the photo shoot/interview with “A Bear’s Life.”

The magazine invited us to do the cover of the December issue essentially to promote “Small Town Gay Bar,” but the shoot represents the first time in my life I’ve been sexualized in the media. The bear subculture within the gay community is populated by dudes that look like me: portly, hairy guys who’re the object of affection of twinks and cubs. Apparently, within the bear community, I’m considered something of a sex symbol, and if I were into cock, I’d have my pick of the pricks. It figures that the one place I’d be able to use a gut to my advantage would have nothing to do with pussy.

(insert cock here)

We spend an hour doing the cover shoot, then another hour and change conducting the interview with Steve, the editor, before heading off to KFC, where Malcolm grabs a meal.

I get home and chill in front of the TV for the rest of the night, checking email and playing “Super Mario Bros. 3″ on my DS.


Harley has off for the holiday, but I still get up early to let the dogs out. When Jen wakes up, I watch “The Baxter,” then take a shower and head over to the Valley with Malcolm and Jackman to pick up a “Stranger Than Paradise” poster for my office.

We stop at The Dip, where the boys grab sandwiches, and then pick up Jen’s dry cleaning. When I get home, I watch Harley until it’s time for her piano lesson, then play some more DS. Jen returns from yoga, and we talk about the plans for tomorrow, until she heads downstairs to put Harley to bed. Bob Hawk calls, and we’re on the phone for two hours, going over “Red State” (which he loves) and catching up.


Wake up, take a shower, then throw Jen, Harley, Jim and Malcolm into the car and head to the Burbank Airport for a flight to Vegas. Mewes is supposed to be meeting us with a ticket for Malcolm, but it turns out he’s waiting at LAX instead. Ticketless for Vegas, Malcolm opts to head back to Toronto instead, so Jen, Harley, Jim and I go at it alone without Mitch or Jay (who missed his LAX flight while waiting for us to arrive at the airport we weren’t flying out of).

We get to the Bellagio, and Jim and I hit the poker room, where I spend five hours way down, only turning it around in the last hour of play. We head back to our rooms (where I throw on a jacket), collect Jen and Harley, and head to Byron and Gail’s room for a meet-up before the big event.

We’re all in Vegas to celebrate Byron and Gail’s twentieth anniversary, which we’re observing with a remarriage ceremony at the Graceland Wedding Chapel. But first, we host a mini-reception in B&G’s room, with Matt (Jen’s brother) and Jimmy and Eileen (B&G’s oldest friends), complete with champagne and finger sandwiches (two of which I eat). We pile into cars and head down the strip to the chapel, where “Elvis” presides over a fun-filled, quickie ceremony for Jen’s parents.

When it’s done, we head back to the Bellagio for dinner at Sensei. The hostess gives me a really hard time about wearing shorts and actually refuses to let me into the restaurant. My defense that said shorts come down well below my knee falls on deaf ears – even when a woman exiting the restaurant wearing fucking coolots that end above her knees passes us. I don’t rock the whole “Do you know who I am?” thing because a) she probably doesn’t, and b) it shouldn’t matter who I am, since my shorts are two inches from being pants. I do, however, hit her with the “I eat here all the time and this has never been a problem.” I take the begging approach with “This is a wedding dinner; please don’t turn me away.” I even make with the whole “Ask your servers: I’m a fifty percent tipper. They want me in there.” But she remains steadfast in her mission to prohibit my entrance. Despite the frustration, I never shout, get belligerent, or lose my cool; but when she puts her hand on my shoulder while addressing me at one point, I do bust with the whole “Please don’t touch me, ma’am. I’m not touching you.”

Were it not Byron and Gail’s night, I’d have simply walked, shaking the Sensei dust from my Vans, never to return. Instead, I do the only adult thing left in my arsenal: I call Owen, our casino host, and tattle like a bitch. Owen smooths it all over, and within minutes, we’re ordering up apps and drinks for our party of nine.

After a lovely, fun dinner (during which I sneak some pork fried rice), Jen and Harley head to the room to get some sleep, Byron, Gail, Eileen, Jimmy and Matt head to the slots, and Jackman and I head back to the poker room. We roll cards until five in the morning, during which I lose about a hundred and thirty bucks. En route back to the room, we hit a BlackJack table, and I go on a sweet run, walking away with seven hundred bucks.

In the room, I play some “Super Mario Bros. 3″ before falling asleep, around 6:15 in the morning.


I wake up around noon to cuddle Schwalbach, who’s already been up for a few hours. She’d fed Harley and sent her to Byron and Gail, leaving us some down time to pack and get ready for the airport. Instead, Schwalbach and I wind up boning.

Afterwards, we pack our stuff and order a plate of tea sandwiches, in which I indulge. We say goodbye to Matt downstairs, then cab it over to the airport, where Jackman, Byron, Gail and Harley are waiting for us. I spend the flight home pouring of a page-turner of a spellbinding story about Sean Young in “Entertainment Weekly.” On the way home from the Burbank Airport, we stop at Western Bagels, where everyone grabs some grub, and I cave and have a turkey sandwich.

Back at the house, I pull on the wooby shorts and crack open “Mystery Train” – during which I fall asleep for half an hour. When that’s over, we continue the Jim Jarmusch fest with “Broken Flowers.” Andrew from Windy City Times calls to chat about “Small Town Gay Bar,” after which Jen sends Jackman and I to pick up Baja Fresh. I have a few spoonfuls of pinto beans before we dig into the Alzheimer’s flick “Away From Her” – which Jen deems too depressing for an evening watch. Instead, we pop in “Henry Fool,” during which I fall asleep.


I wake up, load luggage into the Hate Tank, and then Jackman and I bring Gail and Byron to the airport for their Hawaii flight. On the way home, we hit Coffee Bean.

Back at the house, I climb into my woobs once again, then sack out on the bed and watch the rest of “Henry Fool” that I missed last night when I fell asleep. When the flick ends, I get dressed again and Jackman and I drop Harley off at her friend’s house for a playdate. Upon our return home, we cross paths with Jen, who’s heading out to Whole Foods. I play some more “Super Mario Bros. 3″ to kill time while I’m waiting for Schwalbach’s return.

When Jen gets back, we watch “Fay Grim” (Hal Hartley’s sequel to “Henry Fool”) and follow that up with “Year of the Dog” and “Sugar Time” – which I fall asleep watching. I wake up mid-flick to find Jen getting dressed for Harley pickup, so I do the same, and we head back to Harley’s friend’s house, grab the kid, stop by M Cafe’ for Jen, and then return home.

I watch the chunk of “Sugar Time” I missed when I fell asleep, then finish the flick, during which I also finish “Super Mario Bros. 3.” Jen and I put Harley to bed and head back to the room, where we watch the Bruce Willis/Halle Berry flick “Perfect Stranger.” When it ends, we fall asleep watching some season 3 of “The Office.”
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SModcast 29: Harry Scotter and the Order of the Penis

In which our heroes discuss The Boy Who Lived and the wizarding world way, way too much. SPOILER ALERT: “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” and many others “Potter” books spoiled at great lengths.


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For Stash East, it’s just another in a long line of store events. For Stash West, however, it’s a swan-song.