Today, over at Christopher Monks’ utterly hilarious blog “Utter Wonder“, I was the 45th inductee into his prestigious Hall of Fame. Go read and be jealous. And you will be.

How was I chosen to receive this honor? He said anybody who wanted to be inducted could write him and say so, so I did. It doesn’t lessen the honor, really. Seriously, how many rural Denmark-ian blogs are you featured on, huh? HUH?

(Tryin’ to harsh my buzz, sheesh. The noive.)

More evidence that the fabulous Kennedy Kabasares is actually the funny one around here.

His latest gift link: Pimp My Snack. Candy lovers make their faves go mega. Too much fun.

PS: I really need to overhaul my tags–they’re largely meaningless.  They point the way about as well as an Esperanto roadmap. Hopefully I’ll do that soon.

Today I find myself fixated on a recently-heard word.

It is a gleeful word, a mischievous, bratty example of group-think that completely captures an experience we all understand. It’s a little bit of right-brained beauty.

I invite you to celebrate this word - leave me a comment using the word “badonkadonk” in a sentence.

:D

(No fair copying anything from the link.)

I have not written in a while. Well, actually I’ve been writing kind of a lot, but that’s for work, and I keep telling myself I don’t have time to write otherwise, even though I’m dawdling and taking to longer to do my work than strictly necessary. More on that in a minute. Anyway, I finally decided fuck it, I’ll write something down. And of course it came out a tome, because it keeps me from having to write my work stuff. Settle in.

Mostly what’s happened this last week is that I stayed out at my folks’ house in Simi Valley to look after their dog while they went out to Virginia and saw my mom’s folks. My parents’ dog is extra cool – a big sweet black lab. She actually started out my sister the photographer’s dog (which is why her name is Nikon — the dog’s, not my sister’s), until my sister moved out of state and my mom didn’t like the way my sister’s ex-housemate was taking care of her – basically, leaving her alone in a backyard with two other big dogs almost all the time. The dog was essentially fine, but my mom kept dognapping her and taking her to “gramma’s” house for the weekend, until the dog preferred that (and all the spoiling they gave her) to her real house, and then the dog was theirs. Then my mom complained that my sister “foisted” the dog on them, which my dad reliably points out is not the truth at all, but that doesn’t always change her recollection. One thing that is absolutely true is that the dog has become the center of my parents’ lives, and my sister and I are prepared to insist that they not go without a pet from now on – it just livens them up in a way we’d hate to see stop.

So if you’d like to read the rest of the tome, click “more” to read about the dog, and my hometown, and the cats, and stitches in my tongue, and Writer’s Reluctance, and Life When You’re Not Expected Anywhere.

(more…)

	Voila! Visual proof that I have my new copy of my friend Dave White’s new book Exile in Guyville: How a Punk Rock Redneck Faggot Texan Moved to West Hollywood and Refused to Be Shiny and Happy…
…and his hubby Alonzo Duralde’s book, 101 Must-See Movies for Gay Men

Can YOU say the same??

(ps: I bought them with George Plimpton’s Truman Capote: In Which Various Friends, Enemies, Acquaintences and Detractors Recall His Turbulent Career, thus cementing my place in Fag Hag History, at least according to Amazon, and assuring that they will NEVER stop recommending gay-male-themed books to me, ever ever ever.)

(pps: And yet another shoutout to Hed Johnson, who left me a lovely comment which was much appreciated. He obviously enjoys Buffy, his universal heathcare over in Australia, and running his own newly-improved Blogger-fueled place called Hed Space. Check it out!)

March 18, 2006 - 17:34
Originally uploaded by Hugo*.

I’m totally enamored of this guy’s Hugo*’s Flickr photostream — largely because he’s Parisian and it’s like I can sightsee without even being there, and through the eyes of a local, no less! — but even more because of the sheer excellence of his shots. Now I’m admiring him for his photojournalism as he chronicles the Paris labor riots. This picture had the following caption.

“The anti-CPE demonstration is ending on Place de la Nation where people are gathering, when a group of clowns appeared in a well-humoured parody of the CRS (riot police). They used leeks as ‘matraques’ (bludgeons ?), strainers as helmets, and were charging the crowd to give hugs

“Unfortunately, it would soon turn sour…”

The whole clown thing is both incredibly cool and incredibly French, don’t you think? Just wish it’d had a farther-reaching effect. :-/

(BTW, I know I’ve never given you guys a follow-up on my Skywalker Ranch trip - it’s coming soon!)