Ultramundane.com -- It's Just Not Natural.

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United States, California, San Francisco, The Mission, English, Spanish, Casey, Male, 31-35.

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Friday, August 1, 2003

The Evening Was...Moist.

Today has grabbed me in its mouth and shaken the piss out of me. So tonight we're off to see Urinetown. Somehow I managed to get front row seats. Wonder if I should wear a rain slicker, a la Gallagher (who's planning to run for Governor. I fear.)

Speaking of which, I'm looking for non-party-affiliated voters or non-registered but eligible voters in the San Francisco County Elections district for a potential ~~Goober~~Gubernatorial candidate. If you're eligible, please send me an email ASAP...thanks!

05:53 PM PST (link)

Wednesday, July 30, 2003

Homosexualist, Heal Thyself.

I have been ruined by Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

I mean, I am not a fashionista. I've had the same low-maintainance haircut for the past six years. The clothes that I do not buy at Ross Dress-For-Less I get via mail-order. My apartment furniture is largely white pressboard furniture that was picked up at garage sales. My most common lunch is from Subway. My favorite pastime is playing video games. I may have a style, sure, but having taste is another matter altogether.

But now, I see fit, for days after seeing an episode of the show, to ~~make snarky comments~~ offer style suggestions (usually silently) to friends, coworkers, strangers. It is my right—nay, my duty—as a homosexual man in our country to inform its aesthetics. Whether I'm informed of those aesthetics myself or not. Right?

Shallow, perhaps. But I mean well. Well, so do the Fab Five. I feel guilty for watching, part of me rebelling at the ridiculously brand- and status-conscious stereotype the show relies on, and part of me cheering for strong-minded gay men who seem like they'd be genuinely friendly and helpful, even if they weren't getting paid.

Honestly, I'm not sure which is more fun...watching the show, arguing about the show, or behaving as if I was on the show. All I know is that every time I watch, this urge to critique just gets stronger, which I suppose complicates the whole "Nature vs. Nurture" argument a bit more.

"You should use a different conditioner so your hair has more body," I suggest, while my $1.99 gel struggles to contain my flyaways and cowlicks. "The cut of those jeans make your ass look enormous and flat," I offer, hiding within layers of drapey black clothes. "Paint the walls a nice bold color to help unify the room," I recommend amidst our peeling Navajo White (AKA, beige) apartment walls.

It's not that I don't know better myself; I just don't want to put in the effort. My version of the show would have to be called "Lazy Eye."

12:55 AM PST (link)

Monday, July 28, 2003

Abandoning Lust for Sloth.

I didn't make it out to the Dore Alley street fair. I got home with best intentions but also new games that were on sale. Once I got out of the shower and started debating what to wear, it all seemed like too much effort. So I didn't bother. I put on shorts and camped in front of the PlayStation—until about 3AM. I approximated the Dore Alley Street Fair experience by stripping the muscular character down to his codpiece and making him walk around town that way.

Nuns invaded the house briefly after the fair ended, fixing their makeup and feathers before going back out for dinner and cocktails. I waved hello. I had food stains on my A-shirt and hadn't really brushed my hair. One of the nuns looked at me like I was from another planet. He was wearing 3 pounds of glitter and a costume which exposed his nipples. It's all about perspective.

Today the Boyfriend said he hoped I hadn't brought home any guys in leather. I told him that it was like that old Playstation billboard said: "If he's at home, he can't cheat on you." Wait, does Leather Armor count?

03:16 PM PST (link)