Tuesday, November 27, 2007

it was so not right



ok something awful happened tonight. something really, really horrible. more terrible than a bacterial infection. more graphic than an episode of 'house.' and certainly more immorally horrific than that dancing girl with cerebral palsy that made the rounds on youtube.
and before i tell you what it is, i'll provide some background. it's a website that's been on the internet for some time now. it's certainly not new, nor is its graphic content. but it's the first time i saw it, and the fact that the recorded reactions to it (also quite famous on youtube), from which i culled the priceless image above, horrify potential viewers to the extent they don't watch it at all, must mean it's pretty damn bad.

and let's get one thing straight: nothing freaks me out. i've been around, kids. i could be the fuckin' president of the john waters fan club. i've seen it all, and invented more of my own. i was the badass who got straight a's and sneaked porn behind his churchgoing parents' backs. i've run naked around my building more than once, and i've done my own version of the rain dance on my roof. i've thrown up and swallowed it again (not part of pledging, it was kind of involuntary, born from the necessity to breathe, and the mere realization of what i had just done made it all come back up again anyway). i've willingly peed my pants (at last year's heatherette spring 07 show, i wasn't giving my third-row seat up for anybody). i've almost eaten out vaginas before (i'm aware the gross factor of that one may be contested by some). i've thrown up blood (tonsilectomies ain't pretty) and i've eaten cuticles.

but nothing prepared me for this.

it's this little website called "2girls1cup.com." now don't go racing to it this minute. this is serious business. i've seen some pretty raunchy porn, girls squirting and all, and those asians can put out some nasty-ass flicks too, but damn--this isn't even porn. this isn't even raunch. this...this, well--you'll just have to watch it yourself. it's beyond appalling. it's beyond frightening. it's beyond horribly disgusting. it's special.

now go watch it and leave a friggin comment when you're done.
and don't say i didn't warn you (even though i clearly didn't.)

i'm out kids.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Friday, November 16, 2007

the good ol' days



sad bryanambition.

so how do we hold onto our fondest memories? i was abruptly prompted with this question while riding the V-as-in-vagina train home tonight, and on the shuffle mode, my ipod came upon 'it feels so good' by sonique.
damn, the memories flooded in. cut to me in my freshman dorm, getting ready to go to the tunnel on a saturday night, dressed in some skimpy ass shirt, ripped up jeans, no underwear, drenched in cologne, decked with a fake tattoo and donning candy bracelets and self-applied highlights.

i've come a long way.

but i can still smell the gilette deodorant and see the tartan bedspread and actually be reassured that trey was driving us there in his lexus, and that my oxygenated rehydrating spray would be in the back seat.
oh, and that some fellow twink would happily be awaiting my eager tongue and wandering hands in the kenny scharf room.
or riding six in the back seat (of the lexus) en route to lucky cheng's, where i'd sing vogue karaoke and poke the drag queens to give this underage ball of fabulosity a pink pussy (it's a drink) or two.

Being 18 fuggin ruled.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

what did you expect? condams?



so i got really inspired today and sent this purely fictional story to my esteemed coworkers. since they were all fictitiously involved, i think many of them were prompted to ask, "wait--did it really happen?" duuh, no.

submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this story: CONDOMANIA

last year logan thought it would be a good idea to bring in a "condom [or, if you prefer, condam] tree" and place it on her desk in the hopes that it would encourage everybody in the office to shamelessly 'prune' the tree as they needed, hence promoting sexual safety in and around the office. (she later told me she planned to take a polaroid of the person who took each condam and make a wall collage of prophylactic bliss). and it was a good idea. a great one, actually, until the day that brian kantor came in with that can of "spray helium" and thought it would be an even better idea to fill up the condams with helium and watch as people in the office panicked as condams floated their way, shuddering as they passed, as if they were filled with some questionable substance. then una, the animated one she is, took a big red marker and drew lips on the floating condams (lips, but no eyes!) and giggled with glee as she saw her creations bounce airily around the office. so of course the insidious perversions of tamara and beth couldn't be quelled by the sheer thrill of all of this, and they began to catch the floating condams and continue to make them anatomically correct. ears, noses, vaginas, penises (but still, no eyes).
one may ask, "where were the authorities?" well, jyl was working from home. steve was on a break. kathy was on vacation and ari was still at vibe. but never one to just sit around, amy gets up with her camera and starts to snap away! and away and away and away, taking many rolls of film to capture this incredible moment in blackbook's history. and so it went, until bryan (moi) got up and decided to actually put on one of the condams (did i mention he and brian kantor sniffed the remainder of the spray helium?) and the office was petrified (and somewhat turned on) by what they saw, that the buzz kind of deflated, as did the floating condams, and the random moment of fun came to an end.
now, what, you may ask, happened to the thousands of pics amy took? well it just so happened that bryan wore a jacket that happened to be magnetic that day, and as he embraced amy for her good photographic work, the magnets inherent to his jacket overexposed all the film, and the memories were left to be cherished by the mind.

epilogue:
and though i wasn't going to mention it before, john was there, but saw the action from a smaller angle, as he got this splendid idea to "decorate the elevator," which involved decking the small, movable hall we called an elevator, in festive lights, garlands and ribbons, and he was so adamant on this idea, not even floating condams could lure him away from his work.
john is a good man.


good times, right?

Friday, November 09, 2007

it's offish!



i'm running the ny marathon next year. totally.
for the past four years, i've vaguely followed the ny marathon; a tad on the radio, tv coverage, and one year, i was even unfortunate enough to be amongst the fast-paced mayhem on the day of the show (ya'll).
and every year, i say the same thing: i run; i like to run; i can run relatively great distances; i should run the marathon. and so i hike to the b&n and indulge on training books and get myself psyched and run for a few consecutive days, carbo loading by night and detoxing by day, and then the weather gets increasingly colder and the thought of running at 8am during the bitter winter months gets older and i eventually abandon my marathon endeavor (no pun intended) and concentrate on mastering something else (which is, incidentally, how i've since ended up with the entire library of rodney yee yoga dvds, but i digress) and Christmas comes and i go home and think of how cool it would be to tell all my relatives that i ran the marathon and all, yet retaining that loser feeling that i never actually did.

this year, howev, all will be different. i'm going to train the shit out of my body, not paying any attention to the winter brutality that lies ahead (maybe we'll get lucky and this will be the year of global warming, providing us with an unseasonably warm clime) and i'll run daily through december and january, dressed merely in a sporty fleece to brave the nipply-but-not-altogether-horrific 50-degree weather and it won't snow at all and before i know it, it'll be may and gorgeous.
and then the summer will come and i'll have to cut my alcohol consumption by at least half to preserve the tip-top shape my body will undoubtedly be in by that time, but it'll be ok because i can just provide the excuse that never gets old, "oh i'm training for the marathon."
and then november will come and i'll run the 26.3 miles and wear one of those fancy schmancy shiny coats (reminiscent of yetta on 'the nanny') and thousands of my friends will come out with "GO BRYANAMBITION" signs and i'll be symbol of hope for all and all sorts of great things will happen.

but for today, i'm eating a juice-based diet because the thai i had for dinner last night, while it tasted simply delish, didn't exactly have passionate sex with my digestive system and so i'm making for a speedy recov today.

so i have to go get juice from the juice bar.
now.

so i'm out.
later.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

since when...



did having a 29-inch waist become a felony?
i went shopping yesterday for a basic item--a staple, really--a normal pair of grey plaid pants. i was overjoyed to find several different varieties at several terrific stores, but the story was the same at each--i shuffle around the rack looking for the ever-elusive 2-9, and to my dismay (possibly even horror) the smallest i found was a 33 (not altogether a loss, for i learned the valuable lesson that 33 is an actual size, but i digress). grant it, this particular style of grey plaid pants may have been around for quite some time, allowing for most of the smaller-sized inventory to have been purchased, but for heaven's sake, every where i went, no 29s, no 29s, NO 29S!!

btw--i eat. a lot. tremendous amounts of food on a daily basis. where doe the weight go? i don't know. i've had 22 years to discover just what happens to what i eat, and i've yet to find the answer. but a fact is a fact, and the fact is that i'm a boy with a 29-inch waist who can't find a damn pair of pants in this whole rotten city!

and it's raining.

i'm out.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Saturday, November 03, 2007

today is dedicated to...



people who pronounce the word 'chocolate' as if it had a "g" instead of a "c."
eg: "i love me some chog'late!"

and while you're at it, check out this terrific blog i came across that features 52 of the most influential photographs in history: http://lukeprog.com/52-influential-photographs/

i like whatcha do, when ya do, whatcha do...ya make me wanna shoop.
i'm out.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

whatthefuckwednesday

why does madonna look so sad?



i'll tell you why--because the boy inside all that glitz and glamour is per-itty pissed off.
so last night was halloween. i dressed up as madonna blond ambition (vogue set) and went to a multitude of parties. fun, right? yeah...you'd think. hot body. hot costume. hot parties. good times. if only that were the case.
is it me, or is the blond ambition tour really that old?!
as far as i knew (or thought i knew), 1990 wasn't that far away. and when you think of madonna's tours, what's the first polaroid that comes to mind? that tartan-clad punkish mess of drowned world? or the edgy, highly provocative and visually stimulating wardrobe of blond ambition? i'd rest my case here, but i'm not done.

any self-respecting, legit, educated (or not educated) person would clearly know who the bitch in that picture is. DUH!
but last night, i got anything but, "whoa! it's madonna!" no, instead i heard, "what are you, a telemarketer?" yeah, sweetie, one who wears gaultier cone bras to go sit on their wilkes-barrean ass at corporate express all day. [i should also note that this came from a man whose costume consisted of a business suit, accented by a tie with a hard-on].
the next was, "omg you're hedwig, right?" and i think to myself, 'as in ...and the angry inch?' who the f would dress as that in 2007? i'd recognize a delta burke 'designing women' costume faster than that!
the NEXT ambiguous insult came from a rather intoxicated, middle-aged man with a hairline that could've only been justified with a razor, when he yelled, "medusa!" at first, i was taken aback that he could actually have been an enlightened one, referring to the mockumentary movie by the same name in the mid-90's, that parodied madonna's "truth or dare," and featured a disillusioned, yet convincing woman dressed in similar garb prancing about in diva fashion. but when he began to babble that it would take a simple mind to order such a beer, the truth reared its ugly head like a keloid. this man thought my carefully coiffed wig was snakes. he was old--no doubt he'd totally seen 'clash of the titans.'
the next, and by far WORST came in the form of the deceased, yet not so dearly-departed, anna nicole! when did she dress like this? when did she wear a headset? when did she FIT into belted biker shorts? case dismissed!

so, you see my friends, in all my 22 (or so) years, never have i endured such a disappointment. and here, i thought the blond ambition tour was as eternal as the woman herself.

thankfully, it's the one day a year that i actually attempt anything close to drag, and this experience may very well have spelled a definite end to that.

next year, i'm so enrolling in the traveling production of 'the rocky horror show' as none other than frankenfurter himself.

i'm out.