relax ... and let it happen

Maybe It's for the Best

2012-02-04T09:36:00.002-06:00

As anyone who has ever watched TV knows, lots of shows don’t last very long. Loads get canceled only a few episodes in, getting next to no time to find an audience Others are just plain dead on arrival. It seems sometimes like shows that are complete crapfests get to live on ad nauseum despite their utter lack of value, while quality programs hang on by a thread until they’re finally taken out behind the shed.

I work at a CBS affiliate, and at the beginning of every summer, we receive pilot episodes of all the new fall shows. They’re almost never a finished product. For example, music from Inception was used for the Person of Interest pilot, and William Shatner’s son on [Bleep] My Dad Says was decidedly cuter before his part got recast. It has become something of a sport to try and guess which shows will survive. My track record isn’t that great, although I’ve learned that if I enjoy a show, that typically means it’s marked for death.

Another random fringe benefit of working here is that, after shows have run their course, sometimes I can get my hands on the show posters that hang in our lobby. (I’m still bitter that the Three Rivers poster - featuring the absolutely edible Alex O’Loughlin - was scooped up by someone else.) Two such posters hang proudly in my office featuring the casts of The Class and Out of Practice. I loved both of these shows, and that’s probably why neither of them lasted a whole season.

It’s probably a good thing they got canceled, because otherwise members of both casts might have missed out on later successes. Both shows had cast members who went on to star on the ABC hit Modern Family—Ty Burrell played a womanizing plastic surgeon on Out of Practice and Jesse Tyler Ferguson played perpetual underachiever Richie Velch on The Class. Andrea Anders (The Class) went on to crack my shit up on Better Off Ted (another show that got canceled far too soon), and Jon Bernthal (The Class) is busy these days running from zombies on The Walking Dead. I don’t even want to think about Out of Practice’s Christopher Gorham missing his chance to play the titular character’s adorkable love interest on Ugly Betty.

So the next time your favorite show gets the axe, don’t let it get you down. Think of it as a natural step in the actor catch-and-release program.

Brian 5 = Badass?

2012-02-04T08:54:00.000-06:00

About a month ago my brother and I went to see Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, which we thoroughly enjoyed.

Unfortunately for us, we were seated behind a group of chatty teenagers. After giving them about a 2-minute grace period, I leaned over and said, politely but firmly, “Can you please stop talking? Thanks.”

Mind you, I’m not an intimidating guy by any stretch of the imagination, but they went from mid-morning chat show to Tibetan monastery in 0.3 seconds. In fact, they ended up leaving halfway through the film.

Now if I’d only had the balls to say something to the dude who kept kicking my seat.

Who Needs Context?

2012-02-04T07:58:00.000-06:00

In October of 2010, I traveled to Europe with my friend Adam. During our visit to Amsterdam, we stayed with the handsome and hospitable Tom and Ben along with our friend Kirstin who was studying in Edinburgh at the time.
One evening, we took a respite from international tourism and settled down to what proved to be a riotous evening of ... playing board games. Make that one board game: The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Game.
Basically, you try to provide the funniest captions you can to random, captionless New Yorker cartoons that are drawn from a deck as your token reaches certain spaces on a board. The funnier you are, the more quickly you reach the end.
Now, in the interest of full disclosure, my friends and I were consuming whiskey as we played, which probably upped the hilarity factor. Still, I share with you now my recently rediscovered answer sheet, presented without comment or context.

"And behold, they reached the last resting place of King Mehem-toast-tep."
"This is what Betty White was doing five years ago."
"Who d'ya have to fuck with a carrot nose to get a drink around here?"
"If I gotta swim with the fishes, I wanna look good doin' it."
"The cross? Oh, just angling for church sponsorship for the marathon."
"And as the old millionaire burst into a cloud of dust, he handed his accountant a balloon with a '$' sign on it."
"Have a nice recovery, Miss Smith. I took all the pills I could find in your medicine cabinet, so you're going to need to stop by the pharmacy."
"Casual Friday's, guys! Not formal! We wear our tuxes every day of the damn week!"
"I'm sorry, sir. Our new head chef used to work security for a bank."
"I know you guys had a rough time during the first movement, but we're gonna go back out there and beat the Boston Philharmonic's ass."
"Bet you wish you had bought that fall coat now, huh? Idiot."
"... and in summation, gentlemen, that's how babies are made."
"Steven Spielberg is vacationing here. That guy's just auditioning."
"Sales for loincloths have plummeted. It seems, gentlemen, that I'm the only idiot who wears them."
"Don't you hate being in a cartoon that doesn't lend itself easily to a caption?"
"Excuse me, sir. Is the bar tender here?"
"Cute, Earl. Very smooth. Wearing sunglasses but then sitting outside? Very low profile. By the way, I'm a horse."
"Fuck. The Cherokee have discovered Twitter."

And finally, everyone's favorite caption...

"Yeah, I've always said I didn't fuck that alien, but I totally fucked that alien."

My Broadway Scorecard

2011-10-16T17:21:00.000-05:00

Broadway

La Cage Aux Folles
Spring Awakening
Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson
[title of show]
Xanadu

Off Broadway

Altar Boyz
Die Mommie Die!
The 39 Steps
The Divine Sister

Touring Productions

Avenue Q
A Chorus Line
The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee
Wicked
Spring Awakening
Little Shop of Horrors
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat
In the Heights
Monty Python's Spamalot
Miss Saigon
South Pacific
The Phantom of the Opera
The Drowsy Chaperone
Rent
Hairspray

My "Wish List"

How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying
Next to Normal
Hair
Follies
Fuerza Bruta
August: Osage County
Priscilla, Queen of the Desert
Book of Mormon

[Updated 2/4/12]

Bunnies: A Primer

2011-06-29T08:25:00.000-05:00

Bunnies is a drinking game enjoyed by adult beverage-drinking adults nationwide*. While some find the game quite simple, others find it far too complicated. Who is correct? Read the rules below and make your own informed decision:

Take seats around a table or in a circle on the ground. Choose someone to be the first "bunny". My friends and I have a random, complicated way of determining who it should be, but you can just point at someone and say, "Dude, you're the bunny."
If you're the "bunny", you hold your hands up with your thumbs touching the sides of your head. Y'know, like a bunny rabbit. ("Jazz fingers" are encouraged but not required.)
The players to either side of the "bunny" have complementary bunny ears, which means they should have one "bunny ear" up on whichever side is closest to the "bunny".
The object of the game is to keep track of where the "bunny" is and have one or both hands up accordingly.
The "bunny" passes in one of three ways: (a) a direct pass, (b) a drop pass or (c) a Bradford pass.
To make a direct pass, let your hands leave the sides of your head and point at another person in the group. The person you pointed at is now the "bunny" and should raise his/her hands to his/her head, and the people to either side should have complementary bunnies. The original "bunnies" drop their hands. (Important note: The pointee can reject the bunny by quickly making an "X" with his/her forearms. If this happens, the person with the "bunny" must either try again or pass to someone else. Also, you can fake a direct pass by pointing at someone without letting your thumbs leave the side of your head.)
You perform a drop pass by simply dropping a hand to your side, turning yourself into a complementary bunny and effectively passing the bunny to the person on the side with the hand that's still up.
The Bradford pass - my favorite - involves dropping one hand and touching the thumb of your other hand to your nose. The bunny then passes to the person two people away depending on which direction your palm is facing. For instance, if you're touching your right thumb to your nose, the person two people to your left now has the bunny.
That's basically it. If you screw up in any way, you drink.
Oh, I almost forgot! You can't say "drink". Or "beer". And you can't swear. This may sound silly, but trust me when I say this rule truly makes the game a classic. It's hilarious watching someone swear and then swear because they swore and on and on.

So what do you think? Too complicated? Or easy-peasy? Either way, I think it's loads of fun.
If you're still a little hazy on what the game looks like, check out this link. You'll see a couple extra rules (e.g. Mr. Nose, the shark), which you're welcome to try, but my friends and I skip them.
Enjoy!
________________________________________________
*Except in Utah where the mere mention of bunnies in a drinking-related context has been a prosecutable offense since 1963.

Hardly Workin'

2011-05-12T09:14:00.000-05:00

Allen, one of the engineers at the T.V. station where I work, is very well known for his practical jokes, ranging from simple pranks to elaborate hoaxes. If there's something glued to something else, hidden in an odd place, turned upside down, etc., he's usually behind it.

About a week ago Allen took an unused thermostat and, using a pushpin, hooked it on the wall of a small, unisex bathroom on the second floor. I'm not sure exactly when he did it, but I do remember walking into the bathroom late last week and thinking, "How have I never noticed that before?" I chalked it up to being unobservant and thought no more of it.

This week, a small sign appeared under the thermostat stating emphatically: "Do no adjust thermostat!" I wasn't sure who posted it, but when I saw it - still thinking that the device was legit - I came up with a prank of my own. I hurried back to my desk and typed up a list of instructions. After printing all of them, I cut them into separate, small "signs". Making sure the coast was clear, I grabbed the tape dispenser and made a beeline for the bathroom. I quickly posted all of the miniature signs, then headed back to my desk as if nothing was amiss.

My workspace is adjacent to the bathroom, and it has been a trip to observe everyone's reactions as they walk out. Some folks have been able to figure out it was me, while others are attributing the notes to Allen, which cracks me up. Still others have posted their own notes, although I think mine are the funniest. Just sayin'!

Here's a list of what I posted and where:

Toilet: "Do not flush before you are finished!"
Toilet Paper Dispenser: "Do not use toilet paper to jot down ideas!"
Paper Towel Dispenser: "Do not use this for toilet paper!"
Soap Dispenser: "Do not use more than two pumps!"
Mirror: "Do not stare at yourself for more than 30 seconds!"
Interior Side of Door: "Do not knock on this door unless you are on the other side."
Above the Urinal: "Do not stare at this spot!"
Trash Can: "Do not dispose of non-trash in this receptacle."

That last one only survived for a few days before someone replaced it with a sign of their own. They apparently thought their joke was more clever than mine. It wasn't, in my humble opinion, but they misspelled "toilet", which made me feel better.

Love, Nerd Style

2011-04-23T09:52:00.003-05:00

I adore the television show Fringe. It's smart, funny, and oh-so-well written. I mean, the writers actually remember what happened previously and then build on it. Unheard of, right? Too many times I encounter shows where the writers seem to have creative amnesia. Characters switch personalities from one episode to the next, and plot threads are dropped, never to be picked up again. (I'm lookin' at you, Glee.)

The Fringe writers remember everything. That little something that happened way back in the third episode that you didn't think had any importance? They'll go back and transform it into a major plot point. And unlike shows that dangle a carrot in front of you only to rip it out of your reach over and over and over again (Now I'm lookin' at you, X Files!), Fringe presents its viewers with both mysteries and answers on a regular basis, always chugging forward toward bigger and better stuff.

The show does a great job of giving you characters you care about as well as intriguing puzzles for you to try and solve--food for the heart and the head.

!!!SLIGHTLY SPOILERY STUFF AHEAD!!!

Being the dork that I am, I love a good opening titles sequence, and Fringe's intro is terrific. It's dark and mysterious, and it reads like a quick cram session for the viewer. Words like "astral projection" and "parallel universes" float across the screen as if to say, "This is the kind of weird stuff we'll be spending our time on, so buckle up."

In the second season, after spending a lot of time referencing a particular character's work in the 80's, an episode ended up being set entirely in 1985. To the delight of the fans, the opening titles followed suit with 80's-style graphics and such unheard of terms as "personal computing" and "cloning" floating across the screen. Fun, right?

Even further into the second season, the show's protagonists traveled to a parallel universe, and the show's intro changed yet again. From that point on, viewers would have a quick way of being able to tell in which universe an episode was set.

Finally, a word to the wise: Don't ever try to eat anything while you're watching Fringe. Just trust me on this one.

An Exercise in "Arrogance"

2011-04-16T10:00:00.003-05:00

I work at a television station, and at my station we have something that countless other workplaces have the world over: a break room. It has a handful of vending machines, some coffee makers, two microwaves and fridge. See? We TV people are just like you!

Unfortunately, we also have similar problems: "disappearing" food, an overstuffed fridge, and people who can't be bothered to clean up after themselves. Now I'm the first to complain about having to play housekeeper for my more slovenly coworkers. Having lived with a roommate for the majority of my adult life, I'm very familiar with seeing a mess, sighing, wondering how anybody could be so rude, thinking about leaving things how they are just to teach 'em a lesson, and then cleaning up anyway. This scenario has played out again and again, both at home and at work.

However, one of my coworkers clearly got fed up, specifically with inconsiderate behavior around the coffee makers. On a java run one morning, I found a printed note attached to the little basket that contains the sugar packets. It read as follows:

Please through [sic] away your used sugar packets instead of leaving them here. This basket is not for your trash. Thank you.

Or something like that.

Several thoughts crowded my mind. The Top Three were: (1) Amen! (2) Should I find a pen and change through to throw or is that being too obsessive? (3) This is not going to end well.

Sure as you're born, on my next trip to the break room for a refill, another coworker came in, saw the note, sniffed in contempt and called the writer of the note "arrogant". Now, I agree there's a touch of hoity-toityness involved in typing up such a note and leaving it for the plebeians to find - an absentee slap on the wrist, so to speak. I'll give you passive-aggressive, but "arrogant"?! His reaction seemed a bit extreme, which immediately made me think that he was the offending party.

The note eventually disappeared, but not before someone wrote in the margin, "Seriously?! Don't you have anything more important that you could be doing?"

Take a minute to let the irony wash over you.

Festing with the Best of 'Em

2011-04-15T22:16:00.007-05:00

Nashville has a pretty damned good film festival (NaFF for you anagram addicts), and every year I go apeshit trying to see as many movies as possible. I read the synopses and scan the schedules, planning my method of attack with an eye for maximum celluloid exploitation. Sadly, this year I only have plans to attend three screenings for reasons both good (too many conflicting social engagements) and bad (very tight budget).

Last night I attended the opening night screening of Weekend, a British film about two men who, after a one-night stand, find themselves spending the majority of the next two days in each other's company. They drink, screw, talk and do a LOT of recreational drugs. In their short time together, despite having very different approaches to life, they become very close.

The film was shot in a primarily hand-held camera/cinema verite style, and that, coupled with the very solid acting by the two leads, made the movie seem more like a documentary than a narrative film. I found myself having very visceral reactions to what was happening, as if they were real people making bad decisions right in front of me. This speaks strongly to the quality writing, which was very solid and never brought attention to itself - something that is especially important when it comes to this sort of film.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the movie's refreshing approach to the sex, specifically gay sex. The filmmakers did not shy away from showing any aspect, from pit-licking at the beginning to wiping up at the end. Everything was just ... there. It always seems that movies will sidle up to showing gay sex, but there's still a great deal of mystery to it, provided by a convenient bed sheet or creative shot framing. It's like the character Glen says: "Oh, we don't want to scare the straights!" Fuck 'em. We're here. We're queer. And we have sex. More films need to adopt this take-no-prisoners approach. Perhaps then big movie stars would finally be able to justify how much money they make.

One last thing: I'm in love with Chris New, who played Glen. He's the one with the tape recorder in the trailer, which you'll find below. I found him on Twitter today and complimented him on his stellar performance, and he responded almost immediately, thanking me and wishing me well. Isn't that sweet? Yup. Insta-boner.

Fun Fact for folks who scrolled past the video: Remember when I mentioned they show the guys wiping up afterward? Yeah, well, the lady behind me was absolutely scandalized by the sudden appearance of fluids. She gasped once loudly and then quietly at least four more times. I hope someone got her a paper bag to breathe into after the movie.

Entries from Brian's "Favorite People on Earth" List

2011-04-12T09:24:00.004-05:00

This weekend I was lucky enough to enjoy a visit by two of my favorite people: Kirstin and Charlie. If you were to total up the time that I've spent with either of these two people (who, incidentally, only just met each other this weekend), you'd get a relatively low amount compared to some of the other people in my life, but with both of them, it's all about quality over quantity.

I met Kirstin in 2006 in New York City. She was rooming with two other girls (Morgen and Jenny) in a cute apartment in Harlem. It was my first trip to the city, and my travel companion Adam was staying with them while I was staying with my friend Mark and his boyfriend in Gramercy. On the second or third night of the trip, I came up to meet the girls, and I fell in love immediately. They were welcoming, kind and funny---everything you could want in people you've just met. Since then, there have been great intervals between meetings, but it's always as if no time has passed at all.

Adam and I visited Europe in October of 2010, primarily because Kirstin was going to be finishing up with graduate school in Edinburgh quite soon, and she wanted to be able to show us the beautiful city before she had to leave it. It was a fantastic trip (which I'll chronicle soon, I promise), but what made it truly special was having friends there who could truly show off the city in a way that a guide book never could. Kir was an inimitable host, and I was truly saddened when we had to leave. It could have been any city on Earth, and Kirstin still would have made it a pleasure.

I met Charlie roughly a year before I met Kirstin, in the kitchen of a midtown apartment in Nashville. Adam and then-boyfriend Blake had invited both Charlie and me out to the club for an underwear party. (Something I wouldn't consider doing now for all the tea in China.) I arrived first and began to needle the boys for details about our mystery guest. Beyond "he's cute" and "you'll like him", they didn't give me much to build a mental image from, but when he arrived, I discovered that "he's cute" and "you'll like him" didn't even begin to cover it: He was (well, is) insanely attractive and I was smitten with him the moment he walked through the door.

We went to the club and had a fantastic time, although I was doubly self-conscious about being in my undies now that a cute boy was in the mix. (And by that I mean "new" cute boy; Adam and Blake were then - and continue to be - quite fetching.) We all danced and got ogled by older gentlemen until very late-thirty when we headed back to the guys' apartment. Did I mention that at this point in my career at the television station I had be at work at roughly 3 a.m.? Oh, yes, that was one superfun morning at work, I tell you what.

I saw Charlie twice more before he headed back to the Pacific Northwest, and by the time I saw him off at the airport, I knew that he'd always have a special place in my heart. Corny, I know, but that's the way it is. Like with Kirstin, there have been large periods of time between meetings, but time doesn't seem to have any effect on our affection for each other.

I'm not a religious person, having rejected the denominational teachings I was raised with, but I really can't think of any other way to word the next sentence without using the Big Guy's name, so here goes: Thank God for having such wonderful people in my life--people I'll always care about and who will always care about me.

Untimely Travel Tales - Seattle Edition, Pt. 4

2011-04-08T18:30:00.006-05:00

At looooooong last I present to you...

DAY FOUR
If Days One through Three were the beginning of a love affair with Seattle, Day Four was the consummation, because that was the day I was introduced to ... Fremont.

Also known as the Center of the Known Universe, Fremont is a unique Seattle neighborhood that revels in its peculiarity. (The unofficial motto is "De Libertas Quirkas" - or "Freedom to be Peculiar" for the non-Latin speakers.) Public art is absolutely everywhere, and you can spend a very satisfying afternoon rubbernecking your way through the streets. In fact, that's exactly what my handsome host Blake and I did.

Here's a partial list of the neat things we encountered:

A multitasking signpost pointing visitors toward such random locations as the North Pole, Machu Picchu, Solaris, and Xanadu.
A huge statue of Lenin salvaged from Slovakia after the fall of Communism.
The Fremont Troll - a huge concrete beast hiding under the Aurora Bridge with a captured Volkswagen under its huge hand.
Two large topiary brontosauruses purchased from a children's museum.
A huge cold war-era rocket attached the corner of a building.

We wandered through a handful of fantastic vintage stores (including the Fremont Vintage Mall - where I bought tiki-style salt and pepper shakers - and Deluxe Junk - with what I later discovered was a Dutch french fry mascot standing outside) and hit Roxy's Deli for some french fries (What can I say? I'm highly suggestible.) and an Irish coffee. Oh, and a hot as hell waiter whom I surreptitiously videotaped so that I'd have a visual reminder of him. Please don't judge me.

We left the Fremonsters behind, and traveled to Gas Works Park. While we were there we saw two bums and a gaggle of nerds beating one another with foam swords. I loved seeing the remnants of the gas light plant, but we had to leave pretty quickly as we were rapidly losing daylight.

As we headed to Kerry Park and its beautiful view of the city, Blake told me about a recent controversy regarding underwater billboards. I was immediately intrigued. Late that August, signs for Ivar's - a local seafood chain - had been found anchored to the bottom of Puget Sound. Supposedly, restaurateur and renowned self-promoter Ivar Haglund had believed submarine travel through the Sound to be inevitable and wanted to get a jump on the competition, submerging the signs back in 1955. A mere week before I arrived on the scene, the folks at Ivar's admitted that the whole thing was a hoax. I don't care. Still neat.

We returned to Blake's apartment where he cooked us dinner, which we unfortunately had to wolf down in order to get to a screening of "An Education" on time. After the movie, we visited a - ahem - lovely little gay bar called The Cuff. The place had fake "stone" wallpaper stapled to the walls, so you can take it from there. After some exhausting rounds of drinking and judging, we left, stopping by Dick's for some late night eats, and no, the irony isn't lost on me.

It was a relatively sedate end to a fantastic trip. Big love to Blake, Charlie, Dean and Brett for introducing me to such an amazing town. I will be back.

Didn't read the other installments? Click here!

Blog Every Day in April 2011

2011-04-07T17:48:00.005-05:00

Dearest readers,

It goes without saying that I've neglected this blog. It's been nearly eight months, for pete's sake! That's almost 3/4 of a year! And the most recent blog entry describes a trip that occurred in the fall of 2009?! Hell's bells, I've been to New York, New Orleans, and EUROPE since then. Bad Brian! I'd spank myself, but that would prove more reward than punishment.

In the interest of sloughing off stagnation, my friend Chris has suggested that he and I attempt to Blog Every Day in April. (It's a "thing" apparently, so that's why it's all capital-y.) I suppose technically for me this would be a reattempt, since, while Chris successfully documented his life on a daily basis (with pitchers even!) back in April of '09, I failed spectacularly. I clocked in at a measly 11 entries, and one of 'em was simply me bitching about the task at hand. If it had been Feed a Baby Every Day in April, the poor thing would've starved to death. Well, actually, maybe not, but it probably would have ended up feeble-minded due to malnutrition at such a critical time in its early development.

Now the more observant among you will feel that's important to point out that it's already the 7th of April. I'll say first of all that the gauntlet was only thrown down yesterday. Secondly, I'll suggest that you refrain from being such a smart ass.

So fasten your seatbelts, boys and girls. We're gonna blog the fuck outta this here interwebs.

Facetiously yours,
Brian 5

Probably a Damned Forward. Literally.

2011-02-18T19:00:00.000-06:00

I typically don’t let my phone get extremely low on power, so when I looked down just now and saw a red notification light, I thought someone had sent me an evil text message.

The Trouble with Hairpieces

2011-02-17T10:45:00.000-06:00

Last night I was putting away things from last weekend’s drag party, and I realized that I had walked off with three of my friend’s wigs. I found them as I was unpacking a bin of what we had dubbed “emergency drag”, and for a split second I thought I had tribbles.

Old-school Star Trek jokes FTW!

I'm a dork.

At Your Discretion

2011-01-06T10:30:00.000-06:00

I enjoy reading the personal ads on Craigslist.

You learn a lot about your fellow human beings that way.

For instance, I've discovered that a great many local gentlemen place a great deal of importance on being discrete, which strikes me as rather odd.

Are they concerned that a brief but ecstatic encounter threatens their individuality? That bumping uglies with a stranger will cause an unprecedented merging of selves?

After all, "discrete" means "separate" or "distinct". Trust me. I looked it up and everything.

What causes these fellows to irrationally believe that dissociation - whether temporary or permanent - is the inevitable by-product of illicit male-male fornication?

I think it may be all the poppers.

Putting the "Lay" in "Layoffs"

2010-12-16T09:00:00.000-06:00

It is with a heavy heart that I relate that *sniff* the local dick bar has closed.

Arrow, we barely new ye, but a light that burns so bright can only burn so long … no matter how large your candlesticks may happen to be.

I had so many more alternate things to call you! The cocknasium! The dong-a-teria! The penis pantry! Wasted.

To fill the Arrow-shaped void in my life, I plan on visiting a college-adjacent sports bar, ogle guys at the urinals, and pay double for my drinks.

Untimely Travel Tales - Seattle Edition, Pt. 3

2010-08-28T08:44:00.009-05:00

It's been a long time between drinks, so without further ado I give you...

DAY THREE
On Saturday morning, Blake and I met some of his friends at Coastal Kitchen for brunch. They had enjoyed a raucous evening on a party bus, so they related their scandalous escapades as they ate, much to my simultaneous delight and chagrin. Charlie and Brett (see "Day One") joined us, but sadly they had to sit at the other end of the table, well outside of comfortable chatting distance. We contented ourselves with knowing glances and sarcastic eye-rolls for the duration of the meal.

Afterward the four of us walked to Volunteer Park, climbed the steps of the water tower, and enjoyed the 360 degree view. The change in elevation came along with a considerable drop in temperature, so we didn't stay for very long.

Brett left us to go to work (I honestly forget the reason, but it was something like that), and Blake, Charlie and I caught a bus to Pioneer Square. We purchased tickets to Underground Seattle, but since we had to wait about a half-hour until the next tour, we walked over to the Seattle Public Library. If you want to know why, just do a quick internet search for pictures of it. The design of the building is absolutely phenomenal. Truly something to behold.

We returned to Underground Seattle for our tour. In Seattle's early days, they had lots of problems with mudslides, tides, sewage - you name it. Eventually, the city filled in the downtown streets and essentially buried the first floors of many of the buildings effectively making them basements. (It's a bit more complicated than that, but you get the idea.) Our guide took us through several dark and dripping corridors, cracking jokes as we went. I found the whole thing intriguing, and the other guys were glad they had a visitor in town so that they had an excuse to go on the tour. :D

We walked from Pioneer Square toward Pike Place Market, passing the Lusty Lady on the way. The Lusty Lady was a peep show operating right across the street from the Seattle Art Museum. It shut its doors back in April, another victim of the poor economy. Still, folks in Seattle will always remember the funny phrases on the marquee. When I was there, it read "We Give Raises" on one side with "Look to the Thighs" on the other. Love it.

After a quick Starbucks stop-off across from the market, we hopped a bus for Seattle Center. Once we were there, we walked underneath a huge art installation titled "Olympic Iliad" on our way to the Space Needle. (I typically don't do a lot of touristy stuff, but there are always exceptions, y'know?) After we got Blake's friend's pass confiscated by trying to use it fraudulently (can't blame us for tryin'!), we zoomed upward to the Observation Deck. The view was absolutely breathtaking. The wind whipped past as we peered out over the city. I'm sure it's nice during the day, but the view at night was fantastic.

We were all a bit worn out at this point, so we returned to our respective homesteads for a disco nap and costume change. Once we met up again, we drove to some part of town (I can't remember which) and had dinner at a nice Latin-themed restaurant (I don't remember the name) before heading back to Pike Place for a show at Can Can.

While I can probably describe Can Can itself with relative ease, the shows you can see there defy explanation. The venue itself made me think of a pocket-sized Moulin Rouge. Located underneath the market, the walls are covered with dark red fabric and the air is filled with energetic, accordion-heavy, French music. The atmosphere is cozy, electric and Bohemian. As for the show? Hmm. Let's say it's equal parts dance, circus, performance art and burlesque. For instance, a sexy dance routine would be followed by someone twirling from a rope. A hot piece of ass named Faggedy Randy performed a lap dance dressed as a unicorn followed up by the whole cast dancing in unison to MGMT's "Kids" in plushie costumes. I absolutely loved it. It served as a fabulous way to end the evening.

TO BE CONCLUDED IN PART 4!

... And They're Super-hungry, Dude.

2010-06-22T19:30:00.000-05:00

My brother Brent just got home with food for our dinner and - more importantly - a first-hand account of the most coolest thing ever:

Right now two hitch-hikers are standing at the top of the on-ramp near our house.

They’re both holding cardboard signs.

The first sign says: “I-40 West”

The second one says: “Zombies are chasing us”

Untimely Travel Tales - Seattle Edition, Pt. 2

2010-06-15T18:32:00.011-05:00

Since I'm absolutely livid that I just spent a motherfuckinggoddamnshitballs hour dutifully typing a halfway entertaining description of my second day in Seattle that the internet swiftly swallowed whole, this replacement version is going to be very, very brief. In fact, I will be using bullet points, so here goes:

Day Two
- Relaxed on the couch for a bit and soaked up as much info from local travel tomes as possible so that I wouldn't get lost while exploring on my own.
- Wandered around Capitol Hill and the University District, eventually finding myself in a secondhand bookshop called Twice Sold Tales. Unfortunately, there were cats roaming all over the place, so I quickly purchased a well-worn copy of Agatha Christie's The Big Four for $1 and left.
- Met up with my friend Dean who took me to Pike Place Market, which I thoroughly enjoyed.
- Ate fish and chips at Lowell's and caught up with Dean as we looked out over Puget Sound.
- Traveled underneath the market to Post Alley and the infamous Gum Wall, which is exactly what it sounds like. Chewed a couple pieces of gum and contributed to the wall. As luck would have it, "Brian" and "I 'heart' Dean" were already on the wall right next to each other, so I added a dot to the "i" in my name while Dean added an "o" to the end of his.
- Explored Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, ogling oddities, coin-operated contraptions and all sorts of touristy trinkets.
- Purchased a mocha from a cute, nerdy guy at the original Starbucks.
- Visited a magic shop that was far more interesting from the outside than on the inside.
- Bought a silly wind-up toy for my brother from a shop called - appropriately enough - The Wind Up.
- Saw a sign that read: "The Miniature Car Dealer Been Relocate It To Suite 525 Next To Sound View Cafe, Please Visit Us There. Thank You."
- Took us way out of our way to visit a tiki bar called Hula Hula and enjoyed some tiki-themed libations
- Begrudingly dropped Dean off with his boyfriened
- Went to dinner with Blake at a neat gastropub called Smith where I had a shepherd's pie the size of my head.
- Waddled over to Oddfellows Cafe and Pub for more drinks. Fun atmosphere and very cool waitress.
- Got sweaty on the dancefloor at R Place.
- Shuffled home past the ravenous hoardes outside Dick's.
- Purchased a couple more sodas from the Spooky Coke Machine.
- Went to bed.

CONTINUED IN PART 3!

On the Bullet Train to Hell

2010-06-11T10:00:00.000-05:00

My brother Brent and I were walking through a parking lot one day, and we saw a car with a bumper sticker that said, "Keep Your Eyes On Jesus."

I agreed with the advice, saying, "He's a sneaky son of a bitch."

"Pour some shook-up Ramen!"

2010-06-05T08:43:00.007-05:00

There was a time when I hated karaoke with the heat of a thousand suns. I would go out with friends, and after two or three beers the urging would begin:

Peer Pressurer #1: (Looks up from a plastic basket full of breaded molten cheese that is being consumed an alarming rate.) "Hey, B5. You gonna *munch* sing somethin'?"
Me: "Hell no."
Peer Pressurer #2: "Awww, c'mon!"
Peer Pressurer #1: (Crumbs fly across the table.) "Yeah, dude. Man up. No one cares anyway."
Me: "I don't want to sing, damn it. I just want to drink my Corona/Yazoo/Stella/Whateverbeerbrandthatwillpaytobementionedinthispost and judge people in peace."
Peer Pressure #2: "But you have a lovely singing voice! You did eight years of community theater, for pete's sake! What's with the stage fright?"
Me: "While I appreciate the compliment, you'd have better luck winning a land war in Asia armed with only a blunt penknife and a catcher's mitt made out of gelatin than getting my contrarian ass up on that stage, so drop. it."
(Peer Pressurers #1 and #2 collectively back off, having shat a little. Fin.)

Or something like that. You get the idea. I was very opposed to the whole notion. Here was the equation: Stage fright + the fact that my verbal acuity is always the first thing to go with consumption of alcohol + consumption of said alcohol = no karaoke for Brian.

I'm proud to say that my days of fear and loathing of karaoke are long gone. What changed the game? Dare-aoke.

For the uninitiated, dare-aoke (also known as "kamikaze karaoke" among white ethnocentrists) involves submitting a song for someone else with or without their knowledge. In the case of the latter, there is typically a great deal of wailing and gnashing of teeth on behalf of everyone involved.

In much the same way we approach personal hygiene or the Dewey Decimal System, my friends and I came up with our own set of rules. Once we determine who will be participating, each of us picks a person to submit a song for, taking care not to have any two people submitting songs for each other. Then we shuffle the submission slips and hand them to the host. Finally, each of us gets called up in turn; discovers his/her song; curses the person who submitted it; butchers it; and sits down. This is repeated until everyone has had a chance to make everybody in the joint seriously consider making out with the business end of a howitzer.

But wait! There's more! You may wonder, "What's the fun in singing a song horribly that you don't know?" Here's the beautiful part of our particular brand of dare-aoke: the revenge round. For us, the first round is just a warm-up. A necessary evil, if you will. The revenge round is where the REAL fun starts. It's exactly what you think it is: Each person gets to turn the tables and vent their frustration by submitting a song for the person who dared them in the first round.

It's truly brilliant. The revenge round frames the whole endeavor. You can't be too mean-spirited in the first round for fear of getting annihilated the next time you step up to the mic. And even when you think you're being kind with your choice, the singer might hate the song you picked and take it out on you exponentially. Frankly, you can't predict what is going to happen. The revenge round is, in a word, awesome.

But we didn't stop there. Dare-aoke was just the beginning. Before long, we came up with...

Cher-aoke
Whether played as a variation on dare-aoke or just plain karaoke, the idea is simple: Sing as, well, Cher. The only rule is that you can't actually pick a Cher song. This is a simple concept that has had hilarious results. But what really knocked 'em dead was...

Mistake-aoke
I'm proud to say I came up with this one myself: First, you pick a song with frequently misheard lyrics. You know, like Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" ("Hold me closer, Tony Danza.") or "Purple Haze" by Jimmy Hendrix ("'Scuse me while I kiss this guy."). Then you intentionally sing the wrong lyrics. We've only played this once, and the crowd at the bar absolutely loved it. Everyone joined in singing, "There's a bathroom on the right!" (That's misheard CCR, by the way.)

To make a long blog longer, dare-aoke, with its built-in embarrassment factor, allowed me to think of karaoke as more of a game rather than a performance. Once I made this association, my fear of the whole situation all but disappeared. In fact, I've even been known to up the ante a bit by singing as Harry Caray, Fred Schneider (of the B52's), Katherine Hepburn or even Carol Channing.

We've created a monster, y'all.

Untimely Travel Tales - Seattle Edition, Pt. 1

2010-03-18T17:14:00.007-05:00

Back in November of last year, I took advantage of the "free room and board" invitation of my very good friend Blake and visited the city of Seattle for the first time. This is the first of a handful of blog entries that will feature my reminiscences and memories of the trip accompanied by the videos I shot each day.

Day One - I arrived in the Emerald City just as the sun was setting. My gracious host met me at the airport and whisked me into the city. We caught up with each other as we drove and after a quick costume change, we headed out for some Vietnamese food. (I won't name the restaurant, because (1) I can't remember what the name of it was and (2) it left a lot to be desired.)

Anyway, we met and ate with my friend Charlie and his boyfriend Brett at ... er ... the restaurant that shall not be named, and afterward the four of us walked down to Bleu Bistro for a cocktail. I'm a big fan of dive bars, and I'm especially fond of eclectic, bohemian-style bars with a long drink menu and multiple warnings from the fire marshall, so I liked it very much. All but one of us ordered drinks with dirty names (mine being the Lawn Boy), and we laughed and shot the breeze for a little while.

Sadly, Charlie and Brett had to leave us after only one libation, so Blake and I explored the area a little, walking through Cal Anderson park and ending up at Purr Cocktail Lounge. We had a couple more drinks, chatted, admired the tumbleweeds that rolled through the nearly-empty bar, and then headed back to Blake's apartment. On the way, we passed an art installation called "Oscillating Field" by Dan Corson. As I watched a pair of green lasers move strategically across a "field" of long tubes that looked not unlike large blades of grass, Blake explained that Seattle devotes a portion of public funds to art exhibits throughout the city, which I think is damned cool. (You can read more about it here.)

That was pretty much it for the first day, although I think we might have hit the Spooky Coke Machine for the first time that night. Blake had heard of it before, but he'd never gone looking for it - even though it ended up being mere blocks from his place. I guess it's the kind of thing you forget about until guests come to town. That is, guests who revel in odd, off-beat stuff. Anyway, it's this old Coke machine that features two "mystery" buttons. I hit that thing at least once a day throughout the trip, and I never got the same thing twice.

CONTINUED in PART TWO!

The Dangers of a Hyperactive Imagination

2010-01-14T22:22:00.003-06:00

I have passed a man standing alone on the side of the road on several occasions as I make my way to work. I realize a man standing alone on the side of the road isn't all that unusual, but hear me out.

He is always standing in the same place. I see him just as I turn to get on the interstate, leaning slightly against the guardrail at the beginning of the on-ramp. The location would suggest that he might be thumbing for a ride, but he never seems to acknowledge the cars passing by.

I go to work very early in the morning. Typically, I like to get to work around ten minutes to six, which means I pass this man at roughly 5:40 a.m. At this time of year, it's still dark outside that early, so if he's just hanging out looking at the cars, wouldn't they be easier to see a few hours later in the daylight?

Speaking of this time of year, who in the hell hangs out next to an on-ramp when it's so freaking cold outside? The guy has got to be freezing!

There are a few businesses nearby, so you might think that perhaps he's just passing the time on a smoke break. There's a motel and a Waffle House within walking distance. If he's the night auditor at the motel, he's completely deserting his post. That leaves Waffle House, but he doesn't wear the WaHo uniform.

So, yeah, I'm stumped. And not a little bit creeped out. Damn that Orson Welles and the Mercury Theater on the Air. Back in the early 1940's they performed a radio play by Lucille Fletcher (who also wrote the chilling "Sorry, Wrong Number") that featured a phantom hitchhiker haunting Orson Welles' character as he drove alone cross-country. The man appears on the side of the road over and over and over again, and Welles is eventually driven from mild anxiety to the brink of madness. (Pun intended.)

I wish I'd never listened to that damned episode of Suspense, because now I get genuinely freaked out when I turn onto the on-ramp and my headlights pass over this lonely soul standing stoically in the cold darkness of the pre-dawn hours. This, my friends, is what sucks about having an active imagination.

"Find me on F***book"

2009-12-08T18:12:00.003-06:00

Twice in three days I've received spam from some porn site, and both times I've just had to laugh and shake my head. The subject line of both messages serves as the title of this post: "Find me on Fuckbook"

I don't know what is funnier: that someone actually bought that domain name thinking they could cash in somehow on the popularity of Facebook or that, once again, I'm getting messages from imaginary women trying to get in this gay man's pants.

Philly-ing Fine, Part 2

2009-11-25T15:59:00.003-06:00

It's been almost two months since I took my trip to Philadelphia, and I find it very difficult to recall things in chronological order, so if you don't mind, I'm just going to list random things that I did or saw during my visit. S'alright? S'alright.

- Philly is really a beautiful city. Very bright and lush. Lots of nice parks and public spaces. I especially enjoyed seeing the very old parts of town where the history practically oozes out of the pavement.

- I was introduced to the deliciousness that is Rita's. I had a root beer Misto the second day I was there and fell in love. The next day I had a Swedish Fish-flavored one and fell even deeper. Oh, how I wish we had Rita's in Nashville!

- The University of Pennsylvania has a nice campus. Lots of neat sculptures (including one of a huge, broken button) and cute boys. Mike and I visited a neat second-hand bookshop and a strangely comic book-less comic store. Still can't figure that one out. Then we had sushi served to us by a girl in a Pacman shirt.

- Reading Terminal was nice. LOTS and LOTS of neat things to see and food to eat. My mouth was watering the moment I walked in ... and not just because I almost walked directly into a really hot guy with a backpack near the produce section.

- Eastern State Penitentiary. Holy crap. Such an amazing and interesting site. Both spooky and awe-inspiring at the same time. It was cool to explore the history of the place but also enjoy lots of installation art as well. I thought it was especially neat that part of 12 Monkeys was shot there. At one point I felt a weird cold feeling on my neck that I thought might be a ghost, but then Mike pointed out that very small droplets of water were falling on me. Oh, well. The creepy feel clearly isn't lost on the locals, because they were using part of the prison as a haunted house. As we were leaving, we heard a guy telling a newbie about how fun kids are to scare.

Since no description of Eastern State Penitentiary would truly do it justice, watch this footage I shot on the day:

Philly-ing Fine

2009-11-10T22:39:00.001-06:00

At the beginning of October, I flew to Philadelphia to visit Mike, one of my besties, and to explore the city for the first time.

The flight from Nashville to Philly was pretty uneventful, although I had my first "funny" experience with Southwest: one of the attendants sang little songs to begin and end the flight. The second one was to the tune of Heartbreak Hotel, if memory serves. The guy who sat a seat away from me was incredibly nervous about flying. He fidgeted and shuffled his feet throughout the entire flight. Sometimes this behavior makes me nervous too, but thankfully I stayed cool as a cucumber. I just looked out the window placidly at the passing landscape.

Mike picked me up from the airport and showed me around a little on the way back to the apartment he shares with his boyfriend Charley. And WOW it's a nice apartment. Of course, I might just be saying that because I got to have my own room. :D But as I was saying, Mike drove me around the neighborhoods of Manayunk and Roxborough, and we had a late, greasy-spoon lunch at the Manayunk Diner. Dinner was decidedly more "gourmet", as Mike made one of his famous chicken pot pies from scratch. De-licious ... and possibly the main reason I made the trip in the first place.

I must digress for a moment and admit that I did something on this trip that I typically don't do when I'm on vacation - watch a bunch of T.V. I was hypnotized by Mike and Char's DVR. I watched anything and everything, from Glee to Whatever Martha! to Drop Dead Diva to Jeffery & Cole Casserole. Basically, I binge-viewed, and I'm embarrassed about it.

The next day, after crawling out of bed and making love to the coffee-maker, Mike and I headed out to explore. At my request, we visited the bizarre and fascinating Mutter Museum at the College of Physicians of Philadelphia. The Mutter features a large collection of medical ephemera, including the world's largest colon, the skeleton of a giant, and a tumor removed from the jaw of Grover Cleveland. Grotesque? Yes. Absolutely enthralling? Also yes. Afterward, we walked a few streets over to visit Fat Jack's Comicrypt (a really neat comic book store where we were party to an earnest (read "very loud") discussion amidst the staff regarding the merits of Supernatural's first season), Circa Antiques (a junk store absolutely jam-packed with stuff), and Sophisticated Seconds (a run-of-the-mill secondhand store with a highfalutin name). Of course, being us, we had to stop by Starbucks before heading home.

That night we had dinner at Cooper's in Manayunk. It was a nice place (that reminded me of Bosco's here in Nashville) with a very cute waitstaff, but it was exceptionally loud and although we didn't receive part of our order, we still got charged for it. We went back to the apartment for a quick drink, and then Mike and I headed out to take a taste of the Philly nightlife. We hit a bit of a snag, however, as two of the bars we were interested in visiting had recently changed names, making them difficult to locate. "Pure" had become "Voyeur" and "Bump" had become "q". The former was cavernous, stylistically designed ... and empty. The latter was colorful, loud and very, very full. Woody's, sitting basically right between the other two, was much more my speed - casual and fun without getting pretentious.

I'll post more about the trip later. This particular post has been sitting in draft form forever, so I figured I'd go ahead and publish. Check back in for the rest!

Julie Powell, eat your damn heart out

2009-10-20T20:56:00.002-05:00

If you saw Julie & Julia, you probably had the same two thoughts I did as you left the theater: (1) Meryl Streep is amazing, and (2) Goddamn, I'm hungry. I've never been a hardcore cook, but the movie made me want to immediately go home and make love to my kitchen. (Hmm, I'm willing to bet that's not terribly sanitary.)

Anyway, I thought to myself, "Why don't I cook more?" I couldn't really come up with a good answer, but I did happen upon a pretty good solution: Like Julie Powell, I need to challenge myself! But 524 recipes? Are you nuts? Might as well say I'm going to track down and fillet a pink unicorn while I'm at it, 'cause that just ain't gonna happen.

No, I needed to pick something a little more my speed, something much more reasonable. As I was contemplating this, my eyes wandered over to a book I'd bought for it's kitsch appeal and had actually tried to sell at McKay twice: Better Homes and Gardens Junior Cook Book for the Hostess & Host of Tomorrow (originally printed in 1955). Talk about an attainable goal. Surely I can complete all the recipes in a kids' recipe book, right? And so "The Brian 5 & Better Homes Project" was born. Okay, yeah, it doesn't exactly trip off the tongue, but you get the idea. 100+ recipes to be completed in ... well, not a year. How about I just finish when I finish, hmm?

The project began last week when I tackled page 128 - Chipper Tuna Casserole. Sounds delish, huh? I figured that, being from the South, making a dish that features Golden Flake potato chips as a primary ingredient was a nice nod to my heritage. Kind of "trailer parky"-ish, but it's a good place to start. Heck, I even have a vintage casserole dish that seemed perfect for the occasion. Unfortunately, it was kind of horrible. Poor Brent. He ate it - with a grimace - but I'm sure he was trying to remember the number for Domino's as he chewed. I don't think it was my fault. When a recipe is as simplistic as this one was ("throw the ingredients in a dish and bake it", basically), you know it's the recipe that's flawed and not your technique. I mean, it was just a goopy mess. I think I've seen something like it served to prisoners in movies. On the plus side I also prepared page 11 - Frosty Orange Floats. Basically, it's just orange soda with a scoop or two of orange sherbet mixed in. Nothing special, but it tasted good. :D

I took a handful of days off - for the sake of my bowels - and picked up again tonight. Learning from my first foray into 50's cuisine, I made two dinners, just in case the evening's culinary experiment fell short of edible. First, I made spaghetti. Nothing special, but a crowd-pleaser nonetheless and very hard to screw up. Second, I concocted page 131 - Super Soup. No, I'm not kidding; that's really what it's called. Basically, you take a can each of condensed cream of chicken soup and condensed vegetable-beef soup. You mix them up in a saucepan followed by a canful each of water and milk. Bring to a boil and serve. I ladled a small amount into a couple of bowls and we gave it a taste. I thought maybe the two soups would combine into a new, delicious flavor. Not so much. I just felt like I was eating two different kinds of soup at the same time. Strike two.

Oh, well. We'll see how this little experiment goes. Maybe I'll actually find a recipe I'd consider making more than once. Stay tuned!

Interesting way to meet people, I guess

2009-09-28T10:00:00.002-05:00

I just found the following ad on Craigslist under Missed Connections:

I let Fluffy out this morning to go tinkle. Little did I know, the hot neighbor kid must have left my gate open when he came to play on my swing set, because Fluff ran right out of the yard! I can tell you're a real determined, goal-oriented guy, because when you hit my dog you didn't even tap the breaks! I know we didn't get a proper introduction, but I'd like to take you out for dinner. You're a blond, middle-aged guy who drives a big truck with a pair of those rubber nuts hanging off the back. Respond and tell me what kind of dog I had so I know it's you. PS: Fluffy died on contact, but I'm not mad at you. He was already blind in one eye and walked with a limp, so maybe it's best that this happened when it did.

I'm ... I'm speechless.

Alright already!

2009-09-01T07:40:00.004-05:00

Do you ever get the feeling the universe is trying to tell you something? I do, and this week it's practically screaming at me.

Four of my friends (Andrea, Adam, Jason & Luke) and I are heading down to the Big Easy later this week to join countless other revelers for Southern Decadence, a big ol' gay shindig held over Labor Day weekend. We really don't know what to expect other than a crazy-ass time.

If I had any worries about the weekend, the universe has been working overtime to allay them. First, as I was driving into work yesterday, NPR was doing a story about the continued economic recovery of New Orleans and the surrounding areas. Later, the cooking segment on our midday talk show featured crawfish etouffee, a New Orleans staple. I texted Adam about these two events, and he told me the same kind of thing was happening to him! A show he was watching on HGTV Sunday night featured condo-shopping in NOLA, and on Monday night he saw someone wearing a shirt that said "New Orleans" on it.

As if all of this wasn't enough, I just saw that an animated version of The Wizard of Oz is airing on our third channel here at the T.V. station. Why is that significant? The five of us are dressing up as Oz-related characters for the Southern Decadence parade!

We get it, Universe! You approve! Now knock it off, because you're starting to weird me out.

(UPDATE! I picked up my friend Wesley from the airport this afternoon and took him to his friend's apartment where he'll be staying while he's in town. Guess where she's from? You guessed it! Her apartment has no less than four NOLA-related posters on the walls. I'm not even kidding.)

Redefining "vague"

2009-07-29T21:44:00.003-05:00

I just saw the following ad on Craigslist in the "Missed Connections" section:

--------------------------------------------------
This past Saturday Night - m4m - 32 (Nashville)
Date: 2009-07-29, 7:00AM CDT

We met Saturday night and I didn't get to say goodbye. I had a good time. Lets hang out again. What's your name? What's mine? What did we do?
--------------------------------------------------

Wow. Could you vague that up a bit more for me? Met where? At what point in the evening? What were you wearing? What was discussed?

How the hell is anyone supposed to reply to this ad? There are no specifics to latch onto whatsoever. This kind of thing drives me crazy, and sooooo many posters make the same mistake.

What really cracks me up about this ad is the fact that you can imagine the last few sentences in a desperate sort of way. "Heavens to Betsy, I can't remember your name. I can't seem to recall yo--Wait. My God, I can't remember mine either! Whatever has happened? Whatever have I done?!"

Amnesia will wreck a fledgling relationship every time.

Retro-Blog-o-Rama* - Monday, Nov. 3, 2003

2009-07-16T15:23:00.006-05:00

*"Retro-Blog-o-Rama" consists entirely of my old MySpace blog entries along with short analysis provided by the current version of myself. Enjoy!

---------------------------

In my head I'm the whore of Babylon
If I acted on every impulse I had, it would be a sight to see lemme tell you. Shelby had her sweet 22nd B-day last night and damned if I didn't have an awesome time. Even though I had to humor some random trucker (who, don't get me wrong, was a nice guy), I loved every minute of the evening. Adam and I have solidly bonded now (and I gotta admit, I find him quite cute despite the eight-year age difference); Wes and I have finally been in a social situation together (I thought that would never happen--what a sweetheart!!); I drove Graham home and tucked him in (yet another example of the neat little history that, out of our group, only we have); and here I am, at work, at 3 am, getting over the alcohol, but still loving life. I love you guys! And if I don't say it when I'm sober, just slap me a couple times and I'll fess up. Night, night, chowheads!

---------------------------

"Chowheads"?! WTF? And what's with the cryptic title and first line? AND what's with me sounding like a 16-year-old girl?? I'm just ... really embarrassed for me of six years ago.

In case I didn't mention it before...

2009-06-15T22:12:00.002-05:00

I'M GOING TO NEW YORK THIS WEEKEND! YAY!

Super. Duper. Excited. Saturday can't come fast enough, I tell you what.

Why? Many, many reasons. I love the city. I'm going with my bestie. I'll be showing a newbie the town for the first time. I'll get to see my friends who live there. I'll get to see shows. Booze. The list goes on and on.

Speaking of shows, the primary reason for our trip is to catch the midnight performance of Broadway Bares 19 on June 21st. What is Broadway Bares? It is an annual burlesque-style performance that features many of the actors currently appearing in shows on Broadway in various stages of undress. Benefiting Broadway Cares Equity Fights AIDS, the show usually features a few special guests. In years past the likes of Andrea Martin, Nathan Lane and David Hyde Pierce have shown up. Playbill.com has announced some of the special guests for this year's show, and a handful of them have me especially excited. To help you understand my enthusiasm, I'll be enlisting the help of my good friend YouTube. Let's roll:

Heidi Blickenstaff
Having appeared in many supporting roles on Broadway, Heidi's star turn was in the musical within a musical within a musical [title of show] where she played herself. I was lucky enough to see the show last September, and the song she sings in this clip left her - and most of the audience - in tears at the end.

Sutton Foster
An absolute force of nature. Nothing I could say would properly sum her up, so I'll let these two clips do the talking.

Gavin Creel
I'll be honest; this guy hasn't really been on my radar for long, but in the short time I've been aware of him, he has impressed me quite a bit. I shouldn't be surprised, since he played opposite Sutton in Thoroughly Modern Millie, and if he can do that and not be eclipsed, that's saying something. Plus, he's a 'mo (He came out publicly very recently), so that makes me like him even more.

Michael Urie
I love him as Marc on Ugly Betty, so I know I'll love him in this show. This clip makes me laugh.

Allison Janney
Do I really need to explain why? Fine, watch a clip of her on Ellen.

A declaration of independence

2009-04-29T21:27:00.004-05:00

Aging has been on my mind the last week or so. Not necessarily in a negative way; it's just been in the forefront of my thoughts. A lot of things have made me think about getting older, (hopefully) growing wiser, and becoming more mature. I just watched a trailer for the upcoming film The New Twenty* about a bunch of friends all turning 30 at the same time, and for a moment it was like a person put a mirror up to my life and said, "So, how do you feel about your current state of affairs?" I was kind of underwhelmed by my answer.

I have a bad habit of being a hard worker at my job but then being a total slacker at home. This causes a person to have two things: a good reputation at work ... and a really messy house. Oh, and an overgrown yard. ... And a filthy car that needs a LOT of work done on it. That last one is what that's really jump-started my newly rediscovered need for increased responsibility regarding my own life. I've let too many things slide, and it's way past the point where I need to start stepping up and taking control. To stop being so reactionary and become a force for change.

Hopefully, I'm already taking some steps to improve myself: I'm trying my best to eat better. I'm getting more physical exercise when I can fit it in. I'm doing a better job of keeping my environs clean. And I'm looking to the future by doing things like applying for a passport. You know, rather than wait until the last minute or until life comes calling, I'm being more assertive and moving to take what I want out of life.

I've stood in my own way for too long.

*At least two of the actors in that trailer look like they're pushing 40 rather than 30. Am I wrong?

BEDA? R.I.P.

2009-04-22T22:07:00.003-05:00

I suppose it was inevitable. I was going strong there for awhile, but eventually my tenacity wore away. Yep, I crashed and burned with the whole Blog Every Day in April challege. Le sigh. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted.

As for what's been going on in my world, here's a little Reader's Digest-sized recap:

FRIDAY
Adam and I went to Play Dance Bar for their Alice in Wonderland party. I dressed as The White Rabbit; Adam dressed as The Mad Hatter. Oscar, the manager, did all the decorations by himself, and they looked fantastic. Since things weren't quite popping when we arrived, we went next door to Tribe - in costume - to meet up with our friends Jeff and Michael. Man, did we ever get stared at! Of course, we got even more stares when we walked down the street to Blue Genes. I felt bad for the girl singing karaoke, because when we walked in mid-song, she might as well have been reading from the phone book. Still, we got loads of compliments on our costumes all evening, and we had a great time.

SATURDAY
I spent a good portion of the day with my bro, driving from one secondhand store to the next. It was National Record Store Day, so we made a point of hitting a couple stores where we could get some free stuff. Later, I grabbed a couple bottles of wine and headed over to Jeff's house for a "sleepover" with Jeff, Michael & Megan. Our host made us a delicious chicken and cabbage dinner, and we played Skipbo until we passed out. (Unfortunately, Megan wasn't able to make it, so it was a total sausagefest ... and not in the good way.)

SUNDAY
I woke up late and had shrimp and grits with the boys while watching crappy reality shows on Bravo. Later in the afternoon, I met Jason and Andrea at 3 Crow Bar for Sunday Funday, which was a delight. I enjoy their company so damn much it's ridiculous. Eventually, Jeff joined us, and we traveled to Blue Genes for karaoke. I sing, but I don't do karaoke, so I let the other three take care of that.

MONDAY
Adam and I met for what was supposed to be a late lunch, but it turned into us driving around town randomly starting the process of getting me a passport. What can I say? That's how we roll, son. Basically, Adam and I were talking about travel, and I mentioned that I didn't have a passport. Never one to let the grass grow under his feet, Adam immediately aimed us toward the nearest post office. To make a long story short, we ended up with two passport photos and the appropriate forms, which I promised to take advantage of the next day. Only then did we have a quick bite to eat. Work, then play - that's how it goes.

TUESDAY
I returned the top hat that I'd rented for Adam's Mad Hatter costume, and on the advice of a friend I went to the Lentz Public Health Clinic. Apparently, my friend was under the impression that I could get a passport cheaper by going there. I didn't have any reason to doubt him, so I went there with no luck. I can't say I was surprised; it had seemed like an awfully weird place to go for such a thing. No worries, though, because I went to the Broadway post office (located in the very cool Frist Center building) and was helped by a very knowledgable clerk. Having set those wheels in motion, I headed home. Later, I met up with my bro and my friend Mike for sushi followed by Rock Band on XBox at my house. It was a good day. :)

Oh, 69!

2009-04-15T18:12:00.003-05:00

I hit up MadDonna's in East Nashville for Drag Queen Bingo with the bestie last night. Adam said it started at 8ish, so we planned to get there at 7:30 so that I could grab some dinner beforehand. I ended up running behind, so we didn't get there until about 10 to 8, making me nervous that I wouldn't have time to eat before the festivities began. Such an assumption was terribly silly of me, of course, since as we all know, "drag time" is not real time. I don't think things actually got rolling until 9:15 or so.

It was a damn good thing, too, because the task of ordering food proved be a true test of patience, since the poor bartender had to take care of every single person in the upstairs area. She was serving around 35+ people, and she wasn't writing anything down! This led directly to her not putting in my new friend Monique's full order; the poor dear had to make due with hummus until her entree arrived.

After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, the inimitable Bianca Page arrived wearing a white, green, and black catsuit that would make Pollock puke. She lip-synced to a country version of "Irreplaceable", and then proceeded to make enough blue references and off-color comments to peel the paint of any church within twenty miles. There were a couple of teenagers in the audience, but Bianca didn't tone down her shtick one bit. I'm kind of glad she didn't, since those kids shouldn't have been there anyway.

Finally, the bingo-ing began. Bianca called out letter/number combos, and different parts of the room reacted according to their good or bad fortune. I didn't have much luck; whenever I got within one square of winning, someone invariably hit the one they needed first. Ironically, "B5" came up several times ... and not once did it help me. Poor Adam had one round where he was one away in three different directions, and he still got beat out. That's just fine by us, though. We didn't want any stinkin' prizes anyway.

I hope that guy who won the penis-shaped lollipop chokes on it.

Sometimes I Like to Doodle

2009-04-14T18:39:00.003-05:00

It all began in middle school when my social studies teacher would bore me to tears with his complete and utter ineptitude. To escape the tedium, I would scribble and draw all over my notes. Over time my skill increased as did my love for drawing.

Below are two pieces of paper I found in a box in the garage. Apparently I was bored a couple of times at work, so I drew on an old timing sheet and a live shot request. Enjoy!

(FYI: I added the black bars to cover the info on the sheet. Since these were originally internal documents, I figured it wouldn't be kosher to post them online without doing a little photoshopping.)

(click to see larger)

I just ... I just can't

2009-04-13T21:24:00.001-05:00

I was going to post an entry about something cool, but I'm afraid I'll be unable to this evening. My brother just made me watch Street Fighter: The Movie, and my spirit is now broken.

BEDA, Day 11 (But written on the 12th)

2009-04-12T12:08:00.005-05:00

Man, I suck at posting these things on time! I'll try to do better, folks.

Yesterday, the bro and I drove around our side of town and did various things. We hit up the liquidation sale at the local Blockbuster, ate some Wendy's, went to Target to pick up some essentials, and then ran by World Market for imported candy and beer. I bought a candy bar that simply had the word "LION" on the outside. I have no idea what's in it, but I'll keep you posted.

Later, I joined Adam for a couple of beers on the patio at 3 Crow Bar in East Nashville. We didn't stay there long because we were meeting up with Andrea and her parents at the Nashville Fairgrounds to watch a roller derby. It was my first one, and I had a blast. Loads of rockabillies and Elvis impersonators (I peed next to one). The Nashville Rollergirls absolutely trounced the team from New Orleans with a score of 200-something to 50-something (I can't remember exactly). After that, we all went to the Lipstick Lounge for karaoke. I didn't sing, but Adam and I lent our backup dancing skills during a rendition of Proud Mary. (We have choreography and everything!)

All in all, a fun night. I know it was, because I have a headache today. :)

(Update: The final score in the roller derby was - Nashville Rollergirls 211, Big Easy Rollergirls 34.)

Maria Von Trapp, eat your heart out

2009-04-10T17:38:00.002-05:00

You may remember from a previous post that I have a signed Playbill from [title of show] in a shadowbox on my bedroom wall. [title of show] was a Broadway musical about two guys writing a musical about two guys writing a musical about two guys--you get the idea. I took myself and my friend Nathan to go see it on my 31st birthday, and I loved it. What really made it great was the tightknit, hilarious cast, which consisted of the aforementioned guys (Hunter and Jeff), two girls (Susan and Heidi) and their accompanist Larry. Playing themselves, they recounted - in song - the creation of the show and how they eventually took it to Broadway. Very meta, no?

Anyway, this is all to say that [title of show] has a blog - appropriately titled [blog] - that they continue to update even though the show closed late last year. They post all sorts of neat stuff, and the video below is one of their recent finds. I found myself smiling stupidly at the computer screen and wishing I could join in, so I couldn't help but share it! Enjoy!

BEDA, Day 9 (But written on the 10th)

2009-04-10T16:54:00.003-05:00

Damn, drat, curses and various other exclamations that signify frustration on behalf of the speaker! I missed another day of the B(log) E(very) D(ay in) A(pril) blogathon. Blast! To make up for it, I'll blog about some stuff that happened yesterday that I planned on blogging about last night. That's almost as good, right? ... No? ... Well, it will just have to do, by gum.

Work was pretty normal. The usual "put Tab A into Slot B" stuff. When I got off at 2 o'clock, I randomly decided to take the long way home, since it was sunny and nice. Along the way, I decided to stop by a shop that I noticed the day before. Actually, I saw a Blues Brother out on the sidewalk the previous day, which takes a little explaining.

There are quite a few thrift and secondhand shops on my side of town, and there used to be a particularly neat one called Crystal Dragon. The wall outstide boasted "Cool Stuff / Weird Things", and that was the truth. You could find all sorts of weird, kitschy stuff in there, which means it was right down my alley. On the sidewalk in front of the store, there would usually be two or three especially odd bits of statuary to lure folks in.

A couple of years ago, the owners decided to pull up stakes and make a new home at the Bellevue Center Mall. If you live in Nashville and have any knowledge of that particular shopping mecca-cum-ghost town, you understand why my reaction to the move was "What the hell are they thinking?" Predictably, abdicating their well-known digs and setting up shop on a sinking ship proved to be a horrible decision, and the store soon closed its doors.

So I passed the Blues Brother "dancing" on the sidewalk and resolved to go inside, thinking that, yay, the old shop has returned! Boy, was I wrong. There was junk strewn about and in no particular order. Only about .05% of the items had price tags on them, and the rest ... well, you wouldn't want 'em anyway, so what would be the point? I was very disappointed. To add insult to injury, I was the only patron in the "store", which meant I had the focused attention of the man running the shop. Sitting in low-profile lawn chair behind a glass display case, he could see me before I could see him, so when he spoke, he startled me. We exchanged a few pleasantries as I walked around thinking, "Great. Now I have to slowly make for the exit without being too obvious about what I'm doing." He asked, "What part of town you from, pardner?" Yes, he actually said "pardner" with a hard "d" sound, no lie. I checked his feet for cowboy boots (ding!) and, in the most vague possible fashion, I told him I lived in the area. Some more forced conversation followed as I got closer and closer to the door. As I finally got to the point where I felt I could get out cleanly, I looked over my shoulder and said, "Thanks." (As in "Thanks for not guilting me into buying these used baby bottles.") From behind me I heard him call, "Tell your friends!"

... so I am.

Brian 5's Reasons to Love Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist

2009-04-08T18:56:00.006-05:00

(In no particular order)

Michael Cera's seemingly infinite likability
Lines like "I love you so much it's retarded."
The kick-ass soundtrack
Rafi Gavron's abs
The fact that Nick is the only straight guy in a queercore band
Jay Baruchel playing completely against type as a douchebag
The memories stirred up in me of crazy nights that seemed to go on forever
Kat Denning's puppet-show rendition of the film (on the BluRay)
Every freaking second that Ari Gaynor was onscreen

That is all.

Blog Every Day in April - Day 6

2009-04-06T21:00:00.002-05:00

(Yes, I realize I missed a day. Get over it.)

Yesterday began with sleeping in. *sigh* I don't get to do that very often, so it was super nice. I almost wasn't able to pull myself out of bed, but I eventually summoned the strength to join the land of the living. I met my friend Martin at Alium at 1:30 and had the pleasure of meeting three of his friends (Heidi, Kristopher(sp?) & Ben). Luckily, they were delightful company, and we enjoyed a very nice brunch. Afterward, I went to 3 Crow Bar (my usual Sunday afternoon hangout) to meet Jason and Andrea for drinks. Two of my new friends joined us, as did Jason's housemates Ron and Phil. I fun time was had by all.

Today was pretty boring. Just work and then home. Yippee. I live such an exciting life.

Dreaming of the great white way

2009-04-02T18:47:00.003-05:00

When I was a child, I wanted to grow up to be an actor. Actually, to hell with the growing up part, I just wanted to be on stage. This was sort of odd, because I was painfully shy. All through elementary and middle school I was the kid who never looked up as he walked down the hallway and considered his teachers his best friends. I was more interested in schoolwork than socializing, and I hated it when people brought attention to me, regardless of the context.

I guess my mom picked up on the fact that I liked to perform - always snaring my brother and the kids next door and forcing them put on plays for our parents - so she took me to the local community theater one afternoon so I could try out for The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. I remember being incredibly nervous. As soon as we entered the lobby, my palms began to sweat. Even now, the smell of the theater rises out of my memory: layers upon layers of paint on old sets, sticky reflective tape in little T's on the stage, a coffee pot brewing to one side, and an electric sense of anticipation. I remember filling out an information sheet and getting my mom to take it to the desk down in front for me. I was so anxious that I couldn't even fully enter the seating area, choosing instead to loiter in the doorway.

After what seemed like only half a minute, my name was called. I was completely nonplussed, thinking, "Me? Now? I just got here! Are you sure you didn't mean to call somebody else who's been waiting longer?". My mom, perhaps sensing that I was losing my nerve, gave me a gentle shove, and I found myself walking up to the stage. The rest is a bit of a blur, although I do remember smiling faces, bright lights and heat - a lot of heat. Afterward, I went back home with my mom feeling like I'd really accomplished something. For such a inward child, I really had, but the true scope of what was set in motion that day wouldn't be clear to me until many years later.

Suffice it to say, I got the part. Well, a part as Elmer, the preacher's son. It was typecasting with a capital "T". Elmer was a total stick-in-the-mud, a real defeatist. It took absolutely no effort on my part at all. And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship between me and the muse of theater.

I ended up doing shows off and on with Pull-Tight Players (the theater group in question) for eight years. In high school, I was the very definition of a Drama Club kid, making any excuse to hang out in the theater. When I went to college, I started taking some night classes, which stood in the way of rehearsal schedules, so without a creative outlet, my passion for theater began to subside, and I never performed in another show. Now, my only interaction with the stage is as a patron watching others perform on it.

Still, I feel that I owe who I am now to that period of my life. If my mom hadn't driven me down to that small building on 2nd Avenue in Franklin, Tennessee that fateful day, I may never have come out of my shell. Those years of creative expression really molded me, making me feel comfortable and confident in my own skin.

Yes, Elmer, the glass may be half empty, but that's only because you're only halfway done with your drink. ;)

i know he's in here somewhere

2009-03-27T21:02:00.000-05:00

Having finally seen The Godfather this week, I went to my Netflix queue today to bump the sequel to the top of my queue. There are 480 movies on there waiting to be watched, so I decided to search the page for the title. I hit Ctrl+F and typed "g-o-d", and immediately the cursor jumped down to The Godfather: Part II.

As I clicked the "top" button to send the movie to the beginning of the list, I looked down at the bottom of the page and saw that the little window at the bottom of the page read: "Find: god".

Oh, if only it was that easy.