The Beast Within

Last night my pal Becca and I blew off our closed memo assignment (due Monday at 8:50 a.m.!) to zip up to Kings Island with a couple of other school friends for Pride Night. Some gay group in Cincinnasty rents the park for the night and use it as a fundraiser every year. I don't know the details and frankly, I don't care. I just know there is virtually no line for ANYTHING that night...rollercoasters, funnel cake and beer make for a happy Christopher! Now, I know I said I wasn't posting until after the memo is done unless something unbelievably funny happened. I would call us breaking The Beast pretty damn funny.

That's right, we broke the world's longest wooden roller coaster, or rather, Becca did.


It had been years since I had been on a rollercoaster, and since The Beast is widely considered the best wooden rollercoaster in the country, we wanted to hop that one first, so we grabbed cocktails nearby, chugged them, and hopped aboard the front car (again, no waiting! the wait is normally an hour!) with Becca, Luke, and my pals Jay, Jim, and Mike who we ran into near the beer stand. I panicked a wee bit when the ride started, and when the coaster reached the top of the first hill (picture from this guy) to drop us into the foliage in the dark night, I was screaming like a white woman. I'm told it was something like, "Sweet Jeebus, please let me off! I'll never touch another penis again, I promise!" Jay will have to confirm that for us.

Needless to say, the ride was a fantastic trip of terror! Becca got a bit more terror than the rest of us, though, because as the ride was coming to a finish, she felt a tightening around her neck. The scarf she was wearing had unraveled a bit, and had gotten stuck under the car! She was able to keep from choking pretty easily, but we couldn't get the scarf loose. The college kids running the ride had the brilliant idea that as the ride started back up, the next rider should be able to pull it out easily.




Of course she was not able to do so. As the cars traveled past us, I had a sinking feeling with the headline "Pride Night Disaster! Dykes Derailed by Straight Girl" stuck in my head. They got a very short way up the hill on the left (picture from this guy) when the ride was shut down. At this point, the queens waiting to ride the next cars were glaring at us, and I'm thinking, "These bitches are gonna come after us and beat us down!" I pull Becca away, begging her to forget her scarf and make a quick escape, but they all had some ridiculous sense of responsibility or some such nonsense.










After bringing in two golf carts of security folks and the park's entire maintenance staff, the poor dyke we stuck with the scarf was able to pull the scarf free without any of their help. They did get the coaster started again a bit later, but I'm still just floored that our goofy butts managed to break it in the first place. Becca refused to go back to the Beast later that night for fear the folks running it would throw us out. As we skipped through the park from ride to beer to ride, I know I saw some pointing and judgment in our general direction, like they were saying, "Those are the jackasses who broke the Beast...run to get in front of them so we can ride the next ride before they eff it up too!"

Oh, by the way, Becca got her scarf back. It is a knitted scarf from her mother that says, "You can't steal my joy." Evidently you can't, but you sure can mangle it and get it awfully greasy.

Floods

We were fortunate that our home escaped the flooding here in The Ville over the weekend. However, the academic floodgates have opened. Unless there is a miracle (or something so funny I have to share), Trading Faces is going quiet this week. In our absence, please enjoy these clips from the Scissor Sisters, whose superb new album dropped today, a frothy melange of Elton John-meets-BeeGees-meets-Pet Shop Boys-meets-David Bowie...trust me, it's hot.


"Take Your Mama" live at the Brit Awards with singing set courtesy Jim Henson Company! Check out the singing watermelons!


The new single, "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'"



The disco remake of Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb"



"Filthy Gorgeous," almost stolen as the title for this blog! This is the naughty NSFW version, kids.


Enjoy, and think of me as I'm buried in torts, contracts, my first memo, and an impending exam for basic legal research. I am so screwed.

Tree fitty

Look what I'm doing on my Saturday afternoon...sitting in the lie-berry studying away like a good boy. I actually like studying in the law library. It gives me some structure, plus the bathroom grafitti is better than the average campus bathroom ("Your mom went to Jefferson Community College." Oh snap!).

And what are you doing while I study? Sitting on your wallet! The AIDS Walk is tomorrow afternoon at 3pm, and thanks to the generosity of my Trading Faces friends, I have raised $350. Sadly, as of right now the AIDS Walk is running far under what is needed to run the various community resources. If you haven't yet sponsored me, please take a minute and do so now. If you don't, I'm so going to tell a dirty story about you on the blog, and you know I know at least one!

Click the logo below to donate on our safe and secure Veri-sign endorsed site!

Betrayed!

This morning Craig confessed that he replaced our regular coffee with half-caff. WTF?!!!!!! Why in the world would anyone drink coffee without the caffeine? Without the caffeinated goodness, it is just useless warm brown water! He was yammering on about his blood pressure, his doctor, medication, blah blah blah. No consideration for my feelings, of course. All I could think was, "No wonder I was falling asleep every afternoon this week! This must be what it is like being married to an adulterer. I so totally identify with Christy Brinkley right now."


Needless to say, I left the house and went immediately to the library at school to get a venti Starbucks, fully charged. While I enjoyed my real coffee, I studied for my torts class by trying to figure out exactly what intentional tort I can utilize to bring a claim against Craiggers. I'm thinking trespass to chattels with a side of intentional infliction of emotional distress. This is just what I needed on top of all the other stress...discovering I live with a tortfeasor!

B.Y.O.B-

Today we got back our practice exams for Torts (I hotlinked the definition of a tort since a certain someone didn't know, and I won't mention his name because I don't like to talk smack about my man). It may seem a bit early to do a practice exam, but we're now in Week 6, and are finishing up with intentional torts (assault, battery, etc.). I got a B-. I was rather sad about that, and I will continue to be sad about it even though we were warned explicity that law school grades are generally lower than other graduate programs. However, when he gave us the breakdown for our section of 50, I don't feel so bad...2 A's, 11 B/B-'s. I'm in the top 13 minimum, and probably in the top 10 since I was at the top of the score range for a B-.

That said, I've never been happy to receive a B-, and I don't intend to start now. I am not a B- kind of boy. Of course, it might behoove me to stop blogging today and crack my contracts book. Phooey. I hate B's!

Houston, we have a problem

According to the always-reliable US Weekly, singer/actress/hot mess Courtney Love is assisting in the effort to get my daughter Whitney sober.

Sources tell Us Houston came to the conclusion that her rocky marriage – complete with infidelity and dwindling finances – was finally over after a dramatic intervention led by Houston's music-biz mentor, Clive Davis (who was prompted to intervene at the behest of singer, Courtney Love who recommended that Houston work with her own addiction coach, Warren Boyd).

Damn that Clive Davis and his trifling ass! You know this is gonna be trouble. Asking Courtney Love to help with your drug problem is like asking George W. Bush to help you drill for the SATs!

I said it once, I'll say it again!

This is a repeat post. Why am I repeating myself? Because the AIDS Walk is this weekend, and I'm just shy of my fundraising goal. Thanks to everyone who has donated at my online donation site, and for those of you who haven't, I ask you, do you think this sort of cheap second-rate blog comedy is free?! Click below and gimme a dollar!

As I have mentioned ad nauseum, I am one of the older students at school, and I've been a wee bit insecure about it thus far. As such, I am attempting to venture out of my shell by trying to hook up with the Lambda Law Caucus, the homo student group (gay lawyers?! shocking!). These should be my peeps, right? Of course, me being me, I am attempting to make friends via subterfuge.

Lambda Law Caucus is walking with a team from the law school in the Louisville AIDS Walk at the end of this month, and of course I want to be a superstar fundraiser so that everyone will want to be my friend. Pathetic? Yes, but that is who I am, and I am that way for a good cause.

Naturally, I am enlisting my tens of blog fans to help. By clicking the picture below, you can be magically transported to my secure AIDS Walk donation page. Your donation will go directly to the AIDS Walk without passing through my grubby little paws. It's easy, it's safe, and you will feel good about yourself. Plus, you will be secure in the knowledge that I am studying for the day you need a lawyer rather than pestering the bejeezus out of you in person for a donation.

The AIDS Walk has very low overhead and supports some great programs here in Louisville. One close to my heart, a legal services program, is in danger of going under due to lack of funding. Please, give early, give often. After all, all the cool kids are doing it!

Everybody Loves Ray

The Board of Directors of this lousy blog are pleased to announce that the stingray is the official ray of Trading Spaces. And also, the mantaray can suck it.



Crikey, we are so going to Hell.

The Weekly Cheese

This week on the Weekly Cheese, we're featuring one of my very favorite artists. She was crowned Miss Washington State, and won the talent competition in Miss America before conquering Las Vegas and then the Billboard dance charts. She's had more #1 dance hits in a row than any other artist including Madonna. She is a hot and sexy six-foot tall white girl who sings like someone raised in a southern black church choir. A few years ago, between her second and third CD, she took time out to beat leukemia. This is an amazing woman, and I truly have no earthly idea why the right management hasn't made her a huge star.

Granted, this video is the music video equivalent of a Lifetime Original Movie, but the song is lovely and uplifting. This week's cheese is brought to us by...

Kristine W., "I'll Be Your Light"

Too gay to function

How gay is too gay?



I think 14+ hours of Madonna on an iPod just might qualify. While filling in a few gaps in my collection this morn (i.e. things I had on cassette when I was 13), she officially surpassed Morrissey as the most prolific artist on the Trading Faces iPod. Well, she does if you don't count his work with The Smiths, and I'm sure she wouldn't since who wouldn't want to be the champ of my iPod?

Madonna would probably be quite pleased to know she was the root of the only physical fight I was ever in as a teenager. I got picked on a lot...that happens when you have a funny-looking face AND you are a big sissy boy AND you are one of the smart kids in class. It is really a miracle I made it out of my hellish hometown in one piece (I didn't emotionally, but that is another post). Anyhoo, I had just purchased Madonna's "True Blue" album with my lawnmowing pennies, and I had the cassette sitting on my desk at school in 8th grade while meekly minding my own business. The teacher, a woman who looked EXACTLY like Pat from Saturday Night Live, left the room for a moment, giving this fool an opportunity to upset the gay nerd kid yet again. He ambled over to my desk, dragging his knuckles on the ground, picked up my Madonna cassette, and hurled it across the room.

In that moment, mild-mannered sissy boy displayed a flash of the fag fury he was later to embody. Seeing my beloved Madonna lying on the cheap tile with her case cracked made me snap. I stood up, shouted, "Fuck you!!!!!!" and pushed that big gorilla across a row of desks. He smacked his head on one of them, and decided that if the sissy was going to fight back for once, that was not the day to mess with him.

That remains one of the finest moments of my childhood. Which perhaps is a sad commentary on my childhood, but it was a fine moment nonetheless. And a really really gay one.

I'm leaving Craiggers for another man

Really, would you blame me?

Good golly Miss Molly!

President Bush has officially gone too far...now he has dragged poor demented old Little Richard into his web of deceit! Is nothing sacred to this man?!




*stolen from the fabulous A Socialite's Life

Continuing Trading Faces Coverage: Whitney Wakes Up

This is a Trading Faces breaking news exclusive...Ike Turner has invited Bobby Brown to join him and these two crackers he met in jail in their new ex-husband boy band. At press time, they were thinking of calling themselves Restraining Order, but they are open to suggestions. Just don't think you're trying to help Ike, because you know what that gets you.

How happy are we about the divorce?

We've been like this all afternoon.



Sigh! If only she had inherited my sense of rhythm.

HELL TO THE YEA!!!!!!!!!!!

LOS ANGELES, California (AP) -- Whitney Houston has filed for divorce from her husband Bobby Brown, her publicist told The Associated Press on Wednesday.

Publicist Nancy Seltzer declined to reveal where or when Houston filed the divorce papers, and said the singer had no statement to make.

"I can just confirm that she has filed for divorce," Seltzer said.

Houston and Brown, who married in 1992, have had a sometimes tumultuous marriage, and rumors of their breakup have surfaced often over the years.

The couple have one child, 13-year-old daughter, Bobbi Kristina.

Doesn't my daughter look like a proper lady in this picture from yesterday? It is amazing what soaking your acrylic wig in some warm water and Downey and then running a comb through it will do for your look. Anyhoo, now the Associated Press is allowing me to share what I've known for a while now...Bobby is O-U-T! Nippy has been going back and forth about signing the papers for the last few days ever since I locked her ass in the cellar for a week and got her sober enough to sign them. I've been flooding the room with a continuous loop of her tune, "Try It On My Own," and Tammy Wynette's "D.I.V.O.R.C.E." At last with her hands shaking from the D.T.'s, she signed. My daughter is free at last, y'all!

Now if I can just keep that stoned-out ho cousin Dionne to quit coming round here, we'll be just fine.

Things I shouldn't admit, but I don't have any other silly topics to discuss...

Every time I try to register to view videos on the dirty version of YouTube, my wireless connection drops, and I have to go all the way upstairs to Craigger's computer to reset the router.




Mother, have you been playing with my laptop again?!

Condi to Bob Schieffer: "Bitch, please!"

The veteran host of CBS's "Face the Nation" said to be recovering comfortably from drive-by cursing match. In other news, CBS bans consumption of Olde English on network premises.

Condi Rice: "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout?"

President said to be confused, asking Karl Rove, "Why is she calling me Willis?"

I'm bringing Whitney back

You other crack ho's won't know how to act!



Crunk & Disorderly reports what I've been telling you people all along...my daughter Whitney is gonna make a comeback now that Bobby Brown has been distracted with some fake boobies out in L.A. Of course, that old raisin Clive Davis is taking credit for it again!

J Records founder Clive Davis, the man responsible for signing a teenaged Whitney Houston to his former label Arista Records in 1983, tells MTV that he and the troubled singer are currently working on songs for a new comeback album.

Davis says they've already chosen six tunes that she'll record, yet warns against fans having unrealistic expectations about the album's music production and lyrics, the latter of which will likely avoid mention of her recent challenges.

"Whitney doesn't write," Davis told MTV. "It's a gift -- you either got it or you don't. I've seen more artists lose a career over trying to do that. Ella Fitzgerald didn't write. Lena Horne didn't write. Whitney is Whitney, and there ain't nobody like her. It'll be Whitney. It won't be somebody reaching for a current trend, that's for sure."

Ever notice how Clive Davis's girls end up a drugged-out mess? Janis Joplin, anyone? You can tell from his surgery that Barry Manilow is on drugs, and Bruce Springsteen? Well, thank god he got off the smack and divorced that girl who took over for Chrissy on "Three's Company" before it was too late!

The Weekly Cheese

I've mentioned this before on Trading Faces, but it bears repeating: When I was a child, I really and truly thought I would grow up to be a Solid Gold Dancer. How my mother was surpised when I came out is a mystery to this day. In a way, I did become a Solid Gold Dancer of sorts when I was doing drag out in Albuquerque. My moves were just as cheesy, my kicks just as high, and my costumes just as cheap.

There was one Solid Gold Dancer who for me was the epitome of fabulous, and surprisingly it wasn't the dude with the cantelope in his cup. I was all about the head dancer, Darcel. It isn't that I wanted to be a girl, but I really wanted to be a boy version of her...with the hair and the fantastic legs of course. Sadly, Mama never bought black towels, or else I would have wrapped one around my head when I would pretend I was her, whipping around the room like a retarded cat on acid.

This week's cheese is a compilation of some of the greatest moments of the greatest of all Solid Gold Dancers. Enjoy the mesmerizing dancer/choreographer/diva...

Ms. Darcel Wynne

Screw you and your waffles too!

PARIS, Sept. 3 (UPI) -- Passengers on a flight from France to Mauritius have filed suit against Air France after musician Bonnie Tyler performed a song at the request of the co-pilot.

The passengers, believed to be Belgian, complained to the airline after the Welsh singer performed part of her 1983 hit "Total Eclipse of the Heart" at the request of the co-pilot, who retired after the flight, The Mail on Sunday reported.

"I was asleep in First Class. The stewardess came and said the co-pilot was retiring. And they asked me would I sing to him. They were having a bit of a party," Tyler said.

The complaining passengers reportedly claimed they were traumatized by the experience and had feared for their safety during the celebration. The complaint eventually escalated into a legal dispute.

An Air France official said: "The claim against Air France, which it completely rejects, is that the celebrations got more and more unruly and came to a climax when Bonnie sang.

"Air France is saying that any suggestion there was anything more than a few slaps on the back for the co-pilot is nonsense, and it completely rejects the claims that the passengers were at any sort of risk."



Which is more shocking, the stupidity of Belgians or the fact that Bonnie Tyler can afford to fly first class?

Jessica Simpson hair weave brand even works on babies!

I tell ya, that Ken Paves is a bloody hair GENIUS!

Pretty is as pretty does

Jeanette Walls over at MSNBC gave us this fascinating tidbit about professional blow-up doll Pam Anderson this morn:

Pamela Anderson has had a liberating discovery: she figured out how to apply her own make-up. “I never wore makeup in [her homeland of] Canada and when I moved to L.A., Playboy did my makeup and hair so I never really learned to do it myself,” Anderson explains. “I am not a slave to the industry anymore.”



















Sometimes the jokes write themselves.

Help me buy some friends!

As I have mentioned ad nauseum, I am one of the older students at school, and I've been a wee bit insecure about it thus far. As such, I am attempting to venture out of my shell by trying to hook up with the Lambda Law Caucus, the homo student group (gay lawyers?! shocking!). These should be my peeps, right? Of course, me being me, I am attempting to make friends via subterfuge.

Lambda Law Caucus is walking with a team from the law school in the Louisville AIDS Walk at the end of this month, and of course I want to be a superstar fundraiser so that everyone will want to be my friend. Pathetic? Yes, but that is who I am, and I am that way for a good cause.

Naturally, I am enlisting my tens of blog fans to help. By clicking the picture below, you can be magically transported to my secure AIDS Walk donation page. Your donation will go directly to the AIDS Walk without passing through my grubby little paws. It's easy, it's safe, and you will feel good about yourself. Plus, you will be secure in the knowledge that I am studying for the day you need a lawyer rather than pestering the bejeezus out of you in person for a donation.

The AIDS Walk has very low overhead and supports some great programs here in Louisville. One close to my heart, a legal services program, is in danger of going under due to lack of funding. Please, give early, give often. After all, all the cool kids are doing it!

'Cause knowledge is power!

gaytarded (g-tärdd)
adj.

1. Often Offensive.. Affected with gay style retardation.
2. Slow or limited in intellectual, emotional, and most especially style development.

Common use in a sentence: "Paris's bff Perez Hilton is so gaytarded he makes Elton John look f*ckable."

Switch Hitter

This blog was not created on a Mac, but it sure would like to be.

My 17" Dell Inspiron laptop is HUGE as I have previously mentioned (see previous really boring posts on search for a bag to fit said huge laptop). So just when I find a bag to fit the laptop, an old injury starts flaring up as a result of carrying 3000 freaking pounds of books, briefs, and 'puter across The Ville every day like I should be going down the side of the Grand Canyon while wearing a sombrero with two holes for my ears.

But I digress.

I have decided I'm selling my beloved Lt. Uhura, Dell of Power, and using the funds to purchase a smaller laptop that won't cause shooting pains in my neck and shoulder after being carried for 8 hours. I'm thinking of switching back to Mac. When I was in journalism school, all we used was Mac, but that has been a long time ago, and I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for that kind of committment. So, once again I am coming to my faithful readers, all 15 of you, to poll you on your computer usage habits. Any Mac users? Any advice for those of us leaving the evil Microsuck empire?

And don't even advise me to watch those smug new ads Apple is running. Someone needs to medicate Steve Jobs over those damn things because clearly his ego is out of control. People who have a superior product don't need to dangle it in your face in quite such an obnoxious fashion.

FYI, as I said Uhura the Dell of Power is for sale...fully loaded Duo Core processor with a printer and slip sleeve, only 4 months old, for a mere $1100. If you are mainly using it at home and not carrying it around like a Beast of Burden, it is really a great computer.