All Work and No Play?

I figured it was time to post something a little more light hearted as yesterday's post seemed to be a mood killer of some type.

Last night, Shamus and I went to Twist for what Shamus has coined a "drinky poo". Walk in the door and we see a mutual aquaintance, who give me a sweet little peck and then gives Shamus the tongue. All I'm gonna say is three words.

SHAMUS GOT SOME!!!!!!

Go girl! Make this Irishman proud! It's about time someone else earned my reputation!


Tonight I leave for a weekend in Atlanta. I'm performing at a college down there Saturday evening. Hmmm...nothing like hanging out on what can only be considered an Ambercrombie and Fitch photo shoot. I think I may have to play count the shirtless boy game. It's where you count the number of shirtless boys you see that you think are hot. My record was when I went to a circuit party. I gave up counting after 500. At that point it didn't matter anymore.

So I hope you all have a great Friday, but for me...I'll be working my material a bit polishing up my college jokes.

I'll leave you with one inappropiate one for the day though.

Two women were waiting for a bus on a Friday afternoon when the one woman looks at the other and says:
"Damn...my husband sent me flowers. Now I'm going to have to keep my legs in the air all weekend"
The other woman looks over and says, "Why...don't you have a vase?"

Tiki

TIKI

When I first awoke from the test, I remember dreaming that I was listening to Tina Turner singing What's Love Got to Do with it. My head was spinning, and I could feel could air on my face. Instinctively, I put my hand to my face and moved the mask off of my mouth. I tried to speak, but the words couldn't come out of my mouth. Someone was speaking to me from what seemed to be very far away, but I couldn't see them. For some reason, I couldn't open my eyes.

"Patrick...Patrick...Do you remember where you are?"

It was coming back to me...I was in the hospital, it is April 2000 and I'm at the hospital getting an endoscopy test performed. Endoscopy...a nice way of saying..."Garden hose down your throat to see what the problem is." I opened my eyes and saw the silhouette of an overweight woman in white with fluorescent lights behind her. "Oh shit...I'm in hell" I thought to myself "and it's full of fat nurses." She helped bring me to a more upright position, as much as I could handle seeing that I was still dizzy from the anesthetic. I knew something was wrong though when I was told the doctor would be coming to see me in a few minutes. I asked if I could get dressed, but the nurse just sort of averted her eyes from mine, and said something about "in a bit".

Three weeks before that moment I had been in the same hospital, getting an upper GI series of x-rays done where it was determined that yes...I wasn't lying...I am having trouble swallowing food and drinks. It was recommended that I have this test performed, just to be sure what the problem was. Now as the doctor approached, I could read his face enough to tell that the "problem" was a bit bigger than I first thought. He pulled a chair up next to the bed, and without meeting my eyes (ever notice people avoid your gaze when they are going to hurt you?), he told me that they had found a tumor in the lining of my esophagus. He had the lab run the test, and it is coming back positive as esophageal cancer. He labeled it as a stage II, and said we should begin Chemotherapy, Radiation, and surgery immediately. I remember he was speaking very quickly, and I could watch his mouth move, but his words had no more meaning.

I asked him about survival rates, and he responded by saying I should contact my family members and have someone stay with me tonight. He didn't know that I had a partner, who had no clue I was even getting this test done, sitting at home studying for his comprehensive exams for graduate school. A partner who at that moment seemed to be 10,000 miles away, not a short drive. The doctor prescribed me some valium to keep me calm if I needed it, and I went home, to face my life.

Reality hit about 6 hours later when I looked in the mirror and realized that in 8 to 12 months I wouldn't be looking in that mirror ever again. I puked up what little dinner I had ate that day, and just reeled in the feelings I was having, all the while my partner was studying in the other room.

Today...being a little past the three year anniversary of the day I was diagnosed, I watched the sun come up over the lake, and felt the warm rays on my face, while I drank my coffee. The lake had very small waves coming in, and the birds were swooping near me, looking for a handout of bread. I look to my past often to reclaim the lessons I have learned, hoping to apply them to my life as I see fit. Sort of an inventory of my life. Last year, for the first time in a very long time I took a chance on someone and failed. Risk vs. Reward right? I may still have some things to learn, but over the past year, I've healed enough that I want to learn again. Hopefully the next lessons will be just as interesting.

I am Body Beautiful!

Lights, camera, action!
Satisfaction guaranteed, that's what I need
I celebrate the body and enjoy good health
And I gets down with my bad self
It's all good from the front to the back
Two snaps and a clap for a body like that
It's a good damn thing I don't care what you say
Somebody beautiful (I am body beautiful), hey, that's me

I am grand (grand diva), I am the queen (Queen Bee)
A masquerade (who am I?), I'm fantasy (you're a fantasy)
I am the house (the whole mansion) of elegance
Featuring, I am body beautiful (body beautiful)

Get with the B-E-A-U-T-Y
Beauty, the body is beautiful (Body beautiful)
Get with the B-E-A-U-T-Y
Beauty, the body is beautiful (I am body beautiful)

Don't hate me cuz I'm beautiful
Everybody's beautiful in their own special way (yes)
Carry yourself like a queen and you will attract a king
Beauty comes from within (yes)
Whatever the mind can conceive and believe
You will achieve (got to believe)
Do you believe (yes) that you are body beautiful?
Yes! Yes! Oooo, yes!

Currently I am getting ready to prepare for a bachelor auction as a benefit for the softball league. This has been making me mega nervous as the thought of standing in a swimsuit in front of 100+ gay men who may or may not bid on me was enough to make the color drain from my face. Exactly how strong my self esteem has to be to manage this is way beyond what I already have. We comedians have self depreciating humor because it is easier to make fun of ourselves that face our real self images.

Hot Toddy and I have spoken about this, as since we have only seen a few pictures of each other and have never met, we only have vague ideas of what each other look like. Yet when I found a picture on a web site that had his picture on it, he wasn't too happy with what I had found as the pictures were not that flattering.

My response? I actually didn't think the photos were that bad. And it was about this that I started to think. He's not the only one that has body image issues. I myself feel like I look like a boat sometimes, even though I am fairly close to my ideal weight. Sissy Spacechick who looks very attractive complained that he looked fat in one of his recent pictures, and Billy seems to assume that he is a bit flabby at the age of 40, although I haven't been able to find any. And this isn't just limited to gay men. Brent over at Coptalk seems to think that nobody would ever want to see him wearing a Thong (aka...butt floss) but I would think that his wife would think differently. (I'm sending you one in the Mail Brent), and I've noticed several times where women I know have written self depreciating comments about themselves.

Damn It People! We Look Good!

We all have flaws and things about us that we may not like, but we also have some good things in each of us. If we can't love ourselves, why should we even expect that anyone else could love us. Not everybody can look like Brad Pitt or Jennifer Anniston and they have fat days and bad pictures like the rest of, except that they have figured out how to put it past them.

So I am making myself a promise! I am not going to focus on depreciating myself anymore. I am as hot as I think I am. I look good, I have a great personality, I'm funny, and according to passers by, I've got a hot butt! I will do this auction, and wear my swimsuit, and smile for the crowd. And after I have worked out to the point of exhaustion before the auction begins, I will wear that smile, knowing I haven't eaten in four days so that my waist would look a bit smaller.


ok...so I'm working on it.

Beverly Louise Reinhardt Humphries

I was originally going to post a new comedy story out there, but as I was looking out at the parking lot watching the snow fall (yes...it's snowing again), I just felt it was more appropriate to just place this today. Leigh over at ThoughtPrints: Prism of Whispers lost her mother on the 24th and could really use some nice words and a few nice thoughts. Even if you don't know her, she would appreciate a kind word or two. Leave her a message and may Karma smile down on you.

Peace everyone and give your mom a thought today...she deserves it.

Attack of the Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen Clones

Listening to NPR this morning, I heard that companies are marketing to a new segment heavily, the Tween population. For those of you who don't know, 'Tweens' is the marketing definition of girls that are aged 9-12. Not a baby, not a teen, they are beTWEEN the ages and are fast becoming the largest spending population of mommy and daddy's credit cards. Think Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen sans tits, and to be honest...I blame these two chicks (and really their parents) for bringing this hell upon us all.

Gone are the days of "Mystery Date", where little Jenny's biggest fear was that her date would be the nerd. No longer do young girls dream of their first boyfriend, who will be rich, handsome (read...no acne), have a great car, will be content to only hold her hand instead of pressuring her to have sex, and will never, ever, EVER break her heart (as the Back Street boys have sung to her...Oh my Gawd...Nick is so dreamy!)

Now companies market "makeover parties" where with enough make up to make a Tijuana whore jealous, your daughter can look like Christina Agliera (who proclaims that "I am beautiful" in her own slutty way). KB Toys has announced that they will be selling "Home decoration" Kits so that young girls can decorate their rooms in leopard skin pillows and fuzzy pink throws, showing that even young girls can lack taste. Mattel has stopped making the Ken doll (He was doing GI Joe anyway...but that is another story), DKNY Kids is marketing kids clothes, but all the ads contain adults (and the one male model is hot!), and even Pottery Barn Kids (because shouldn't your kids have over priced furniture?).

Now the conservatives will argue that the tweens are growing up too fast and the media is to blame. Do I agree with this...well yeah. How many tweens do you see on television? None. You do see a lot of adults playing teenagers (once again showing that unattainable perfect skin that makes the Oxy products fly off the shelves), but these same conservatives aren't doing the smart thing. Shut off the damn television. Spend some time with your kids, give them a (*gasp*) book to read, better yet...read with them! And don't candy coat the world for them...they won't believe it, give it to them straight. Answer their questions about sex, and be honest. Yeah, that even includes conversations about sex. Explain that bills are coming in, and at the age of 9, you don't need a cell phone. When you can get a damn job, and pay the bill, then you can get one. Until then...here's 35 cents...use the damn pay phone.

We are creating a generation of spoiled children who believe that they should have the most expensive things. This generation is the clones of Mary Kate and Ashley, and Brittany, and Christina, and Paris Hilton (you want your daughter on a video tape?). When do we go to far? Why don't we let kids just be kids a little longer?

What's the Next Step?

Friday night, Car came over to my place to do his laundry. He was sitting in his condo a few weeks ago, when a neighbor knocked on his door. This was a neighbor who was asking if he had water coming from his ceiling. Car's washing machine was leaking water and it had traveled down through 4 floors of condo's. Not pretty....can you say home owners insurance?

After he left I met Shamus and Brian at Twist for the first softball fundraiser of the season. Total collected for the league...$240, and My liver will never be the same. Found out that the Bachelor Auction will be in two or three weeks, and we will need to bring three outfits, a regular outfit, a dress outfit, and gulp....a swimsuit. For those of you who don't know...the thought of standing on the auction block in just a swimsuit is enough to make my heart sink into the bottom of my stomach. I feel a bit sick at the thought of it, and may be arranging for a few bidders to sit in the audience.

So on Saturday, I was speaking to someone about his life (I'll keep his name undisclosed for good reasons). What got me was when I was speaking to Car the night before, he spoke about AA and how they get people to really be glad for what they have.

"How did you get to the meeting tonight?"
"I drove here."
"Really...you own a car. How do you pay for it?"
"I work in town."
"Wow...you have car...you have job...You have a lot going for you...Why are you here?"

Well the conversation I had with this other person made me realize sometimes how good I have it. We all have our blocks, but when you look at what some other's have to go through, your own problems seem just smaller.

Reclaiming Myself

Friday already huh? Where does the week go?

Last night I took a major step in a right direction, and it scares the crap out of me. I usually spend the evening writing whatever I plan on posting the next day, or whatever I am planning on using in the next show. Last night I confronted an issue of mine.

I have had a permanent residence in the land of denial. In fact...my mail is currently delivered there. Last night, I moved to the land of acceptance and confronted something I didn't really want to confront, and reclaimed a little of my life back. As my mentor and friend Carmen has said to me..."baby steps...baby steps." Change is good and necessary, but with change comes fear. Fear of the unknown and what you make it out to be. That being said...whatever we picture in our head as a worst case scenario usually is not anywhere near the actual reality of the situation.

Issue number 5 has been tackled...994 more to go!


I read the Crunch's post and am a little guilty. I know that I brought his mood down a bit when we were talking on the phone. It wasn't my intention, but it did put him in a sad place. This makes me both sad and secretly happy. Sad that my mood made him feel bad, but secretly happy as I realize that I can have a connection with someone so far away and have an effect on him. I know this sounds manipulative, but it says that maybe this "thing" (I won't say "relationship" as that is a very scary word) is as important to him as it is becoming to me.

Spoke to Shamus a bit today, and we are going to try to meet for a bit this weekend, and see what kind of ruckus we can make.

Fear could really be setting in soon here. My softball league is going to be having a "bachelor" auction and I am on the block. I can't think of anything that makes me more apprehensive than having a few hundred people "judge" my looks and bid on me. I can see my self esteem falling in relation to the falling of the bids. By the time the mallet falls, my self worth will probably be in the pits of hell.

I wonder if I can find an apartment in the land of Denial?

Men on the Block

SUNDAY, APRIL 25th, AT 1 P.M., GOTHAM KNIGHTS' SECOND ANNUAL BACHELOR AUCTION AT SPLASH BAR, 50 W. 17TH ST., NEW YORK CITY Suggested donation: $10. Join hosts Alan Cumming and Flotilla DeBarge as they put 40 Gotham Knights rugby players on the auction block; each with unique date packages that are sure to tempt every bidder. The doors open at 1 p.m. with a chance to meet the bachelors. The live auction begins at 2 p.m.

A portion of the proceeds from this event will go to benefit Live Out Loud, dedicated to empowering, energizing, and enabling lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered youth to live the life of their dreams. For more info, go to www.gothamrfc.org or contact Brian at brian@646guy.com . To see the bachelors (or place a bid), go to http://gothamrfc.org/bach/auction04.htm

Hee-Haw!

Gloom, despair, and agony on me! (WOE!)
Deep, dark depression, excessive misery! (WOE!)
If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all. (WOE!)
Gloom, despair, and agony on me!

This kinda sums up my mood today, and I'm not completely sure why. I have been working on looking on the sunny side of things lately, but I feel as if I need to acknowledge that there are some storm clouds out there and I have to face them at times.

However I do have so many positive things in my life. Friends I have learned to trust like Shamus, who I've learned to rely on as a confidant, or David, or my mentor Car, and Brian and Kevin, and Holly and Pat, and several other people. I'm truly blessed with how many people I have met in the past two years, and how close some of them have become. If it wasn't for them, living in Cleveland would truly be unbearable. I've gotten my blogging friends, those who I've never met, yet I think of often, and I share in your troubles as if they were my own.

I've restarted a comedy career that was on hiatus for nearly 7 years, and with this restart, I've gotten to perform in some great clubs (including my next impending show down in Atlanta, GA).

I've got a crunch, who is living 3000 miles away, yet is going to travel across this country just to meet me. All I going to say is thank god for nights and weekends unlimited minutes on my cell phone.

Another close person who is willing to take me to Puerto Rico with him, mainly because he sees my need to get away.

So with all that going so well...why am I down? I'm once again not sure. I think that the Hotty Toddy put it best. I feel like I have been watching a parade lately and now that the parade is over...I'm sitting here wondering what to do.

Someone asked if this melancholy had anything to do with my meeting Jeff for the first time last year. Uh...no...but thanks for reminding me. I've thought about what he did enough and I'm sick of him and the whole situation. I don't need cowards in my life, as I have more important things to do, and more challenges to meet. I may not be where I want to be in life, but I do feel as if I am on the upswing to something big.

Maybe it's just the weather which is raining...again.

It's a MAN!!!

After going through 7 months of labor, pushing like a madman, and straining through it all, I've just given birth to a new baby blogger. Measuring 6'7", and weighing more than I can bench press, let me introduce to you Shamus!

Everybody be nice and say hello as he learns all the tricks of the trade.

Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil...

I had to call one of my muses in order to get some ideas of what I wanted to write about today. It's just one of those days where I'm not sure what to write about. I'd be lying if I didn't say that a particular Crunch's visit is starting to weigh on my brain...but some things...are staying private...for now.

So the the issue of what is blogging had come to the forefront in my thoughts. When I first started this site, last year, it was my own journal. I had it hosted free on Blogger and it wasn't until I started doing stand up shows again that my director friend Joe suggested I go public with it and make it a promotional site/ way to get to know the person behind the comedian (NOT THE PERSON UNDER THE COMEDIAN). I don't regret the change, but it does put on an pressure to "produce" on this site...something I never really expected. Funny thing is that I like the pressure, even if it is self inflicted. I'm digressing though.

So while speaking to this muse (and yes...sweetie...you do inspire me), our conversation turned to theology and what exactly defines what is right and wrong. And it was from here that I had to wonder. If some country invaded the United States and had taken over the city I live in, applying martial law, would I fight back. When would I (a pacifist) fight back, even covertly, when the invading group thought I was submitting to their rule?

What about when a gang member is walking down the street, carrying a gun in his pocket, getting ready to rob me. Would I grab a weapon and fight back before he pulls the gun out? Is it ok to preemptively attack the gang member.

Is it wrong to do those two things?

Isn't that exactly what has happened with Iraq? Aren't the local citizens of Iraq fighting for their way of life that they know. Who were we to spread "democracy" into their country. Is democracy the best form of government (where only the richest classes get elected)?

Didn't we preemptively attack the Middle Eastern "gang member" who we though was holding a gun to attack us?

And I guess that's where I am going with this. What really defines "Good" and "Evil", and "Right" and "Wrong".

Maybe I just need some chocolate chip cookies.

After Climaxing

One of the hardest things about being in the entertainment business is saying goodbye to a show. You spend 3-8 weeks rehearsing for a show, become a new person who lives on the stage, run the show for a month (or hopefully longer), and then the show closes. You stand there looking at the stage that contained the set, except the set has been torn down and all that is left of that imaginary home is your memories, as you look for the next show to perform.

I feel a little like that. Friday was the last night of the bowling league. We came in 12 place (go handicap!). I've met a number of really nice people on this league and have recruited a new member (as well as several potential teams for next year). Yesterday, we had our banquet and said our goodbyes until the fall, when we start over again.

After the banquet, it was off to Volleyball for the last of the regular games. We were killed on the court, and a lot of it seemed to be because we really haven't been a team. Most of us were working individually instead of working together...and it showed. That being said, the playoff's are next week, so I'm not sure we can really pull it together by then, but this has been a learning experience for me. Learning to develop trust, yet still setting boundaries, keeping personal matters off the court, and never taking the desire for winning very seriously. I've never been one that has had the need to win, and it has been interesting to see how others have had that need.

Still next week, I can see it happening again. The nets will be taken down, the volleyballs put away, and the goodbyes will be said, and I'll have to start looking for the next adventure. Softball season!

Mama Said Knock You Out!

Since I usually write about other peoples embarassing moments, I figured it was only fair if I wrote about one of my own for a change. In my life, I have been knocked unconcious three times in my life.

The first time, I was skiing in a competition and duing a bad jump, I landed badly and hit my head in the fall. I came to seconds later with a massive headache and a broken ankle. End of that ski season.

The second time was when I joined the Hocking College Olympics. The recreation division recruited a staff team to play. My job in the event that knocked me out was to run backwards across the gymnasium, blow up a balloon, tie a not in the opening, sit on the balloon and pop it, and then backwards to the starting line for the next teamate to run. I ended up falling backwards and cracking the back of my head open...and needing 5 stitches.

The most recent time though is the most embarassing, and obviously the most funny. I was at work, not this current employer, and had just gotten back from lunch at an Italian restaurant. That of course means GARLIC on everything. Now I admit it...I am a garlic fanatic, and unfortunatly that day, I had the garlic pasta surprise...and the breath I had was just short of morning breath. Thus I called it Death Breath.

Since the job I was working required that I meet with customers, I decided a little mouthwash was in order (I kept a bottle in my desk for Italian emergencies). I took a swig of the artificially green colored oral antiseptic and my mouth was flooded with that all too familiar overpowering mint flavor. That same flavor that makes you wonder if it would have been smarter to just have lived with Death Breath and offended a few clients.

As swished the liquid in my mouth, I walked over to the bathroom, planning on relieving the bladder and spitting out the mouthwash. I walked into the florescent lit room, passed the mirrors and sinks (my big mistake) and made my way over to the white porcelin urinal. I unzipped, and started urinating, feeling superior with my time management skills of using mouthwash and urinating at the same time. And then it happened. The minty liquid backwashed into my nasal passages, and I suddenly had to sneeze...immediately. Now some of you may not know this, but when you sneeze, your body closes all orfices to protect itself. In other words, you can't sneeze while urinating becuase you likely blow your asshole out. Before I knew it, I contracted my kegal muscle, stopped urinating instantly and sneezed a massive sneeze.

Green liquid sprayed out of my nose and face all over the white urinal. As the sneeze took over, my abdominal muscles contracted, and I bent forward (which is only natural) and slammed my head on the flushing mechanism of the urinal. I hit that cold metal hard enough that I knocked myself unconcious and fell to the floor. It couldn't get worse right?...It did. When a person is knocked unconcious, they loose control of bodily functions. So as I fell to the floor unconcious, Patrick Junior hanging out the zipper, I urinated all over myself.

I awoke as my coworker walked into the bathroom. I was sent home (which I gladly accepted out of humiliation), where I took a few days off to regain my dignity. Of course I don't work there anymore, and this could be why.

Attention All Heterosexual Men!

author unknown

Are you disillusioned by your lifestyle? Do you want more from life besides monster truck shows? Do Budweiser commercials confuse you? Are you tired of being a year behind in fashion? Do you wish you had a nice apartment like the ones you see on "Will & Grace"?

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We are now recruiting heterosexual men ages 18-65 to become homosexuals. Let us assist you in your transformation from bland to beautiful! We'll give you all the steps you'll need to be a happy fairy, such as:

• Drag Queen make-up tips!
  
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• Essential Madonna and Cher records to own
  
• That tongue trick invented circa 1978 in some alley in NYC
  
• Ricky Martin's fan club address
  
• Style and grooming tips NO self respecting gay would be without (hope you're not too attached to that uni-brow)
  
• How to wear a G-string with poise and dignity (we'll insert a few bucks to get you started)
  
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Tax Season Sucks

A Justice's Sense of Privilege

The question is...now that I know about this...where is his next speech at so I can record it?

By BOB HERBERT
New York Times
Published: April 12, 2004
Antoinette Konz is a young education reporter for The Hattiesburg American, a daily newspaper with a circulation of about 25,000 in Hattiesburg, Miss. Ms. Konz, 25, has only been in the business for a couple of years, so her outlook hasn't been soiled by the cranks and the criminals, and the pretzel-shaped politicians that so many of us have been covering for too many years to count.

She considered it a big deal when one of the schools on her beat, the Presbyterian Christian High School, invited her to cover a speech that was delivered last Wednesday by Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia.

About 300 people, many of them students, filled the school's gymnasium for the speech. They greeted Justice Scalia with a standing ovation.

Ms. Konz and a reporter for The Associated Press, Denise Grones, were seated in the front row. They began to take notes. And when Justice Scalia began speaking, they clicked on their tape recorders.

What's important about this story is that Justice Scalia is a big shot. Not only is he a member in good standing of the nation's most august court, he's almost always among those mentioned as a possible future chief justice.

Compared with him, Ms. Konz and Ms. Grones are nobodies.

Justice Scalia, the big shot, does not like reporters to turn tape recorders on when he's talking, whether that action is protected by the Constitution of the United States or not. He doesn't like it. And he doesn't permit it.

"Thirty-five minutes into the speech we were approached by a woman who identified herself as a deputy U.S. marshal," Ms. Konz told me in a telephone conversation on Friday. "She said that we should not be recording and that she needed to have our tapes."

In the U.S., this is a no-no. Justice Scalia and his colleagues on the court are responsible for guaranteeing such safeguards against tyranny as freedom of the press. In fact, the speech Mr. Scalia was giving at the very moment the marshal moved against the two reporters was about the importance of the Constitution.

Ms. Konz said neither she nor Ms. Grones wanted to comply with the marshal's demand.

"It was very distracting, very embarrassing," she said. "We were still trying to listen to what he was saying."

The marshal, Melanie Rube, insisted.

The A.P. reporter tried to explain that she had a digital recording device, so there was no tape to give up. Ms. Konz said the deputy seemed baffled by that.

Eventually both recordings were seized.

If this had been an old-time Hollywood movie, the Supreme Court justice would have turned a kindly face toward the marshal and said, in an avuncular tone: "No, no. We don't do that sort of thing in this country. Please return the recordings."

But this is the United States in the 21st century where the power brokers have gone mad. They've deluded themselves into thinking they're royalty, not public servants charged with protecting the rights and interests of the people. Both recordings were erased. Only then was the reporters' property returned.

When agents acting on behalf of a Supreme Court justice can just snatch and destroy information collected by reporters, we haven't just thumbed our nose at the Constitution, we've taken a very dangerous step in a very ugly direction. The depot at the end of that dark road is totalitarianism.

I called Jane Kirtley, a professor of media, ethics and law at the University of Minnesota, and asked her what was wrong with what the marshal did. She replied, "Everything."

Not only was it an affront to the Constitution to seize and erase the recordings, Ms. Kirtley believes it was also a violation of the Privacy Protection Act, a law passed by Congress in 1980.

"It protects journalists not just from newsroom searches," she said, "but from the seizure of their work product material, things like notes and drafts, and also what's called documentary materials, which are things like these tapes, or digital recordings."

Ms. Konz told me: "All I was doing with that tape recorder was making sure that I was not going to misquote the justice. My only intention was to report his words accurately."

After the encounter with the marshal, she said, "I went back to the office and I just felt absolutely — I just felt horrible."

Practically Joking

While surfing through my daily blogs (a list that is growing larger and larger lately), I noticed that someone mentioned about practical jokes. I started reviewing my prior posts, and was shocked that I have never posted anything about the practical jokes I have played. Since I haven't mentioned it before...I am a serious practical joker. I don't like doing anything mean, but I am the fan of "Con" games and love pulling the wool over people's eyes.

The year was 1996, I had just met my Ex John, and we lived in separate apartments in Denver, Colorado. It was our first few months together and John was working on his first graduate degree while I was making my way through the comedy circuit, going on tour, and living the life of a gypsy. I was also finishing the last year of college ala correspondence classes. Generally...life was very hectic. To blow off steam I used to like to surprise John. Actually surprise implies something pleasant. I used to like to scare John. It was this mean streak that allowed me to plan the mother of all scares on Halloween.

The background story. John had gone to one those advertised haunted house events that local organizations put on during Halloween of 93. His friend Valerie had taken him, and was shocked to see how nervous John was in the line, and several times he tried to convince her to not go in the haunted house. When they finally went in, he buried his face into the back of her shirt, and kept that way until she could see the exit. At that point, he relaxed and started to walk normally...until the chainsaw went off. The last scare of the haunted house was a guy in a hockey mask who turned on a chainsaw behind you as people were walking to the exit. In John's own words," I blacked out and just ran out of the building as fast as I could!" His friend Valerie filled in the details. When the chainsaw went off, John's color drained from his face. He opened his mouth to shriek, but no sound came out. Before she could grab a hold of him, he started to run, pushing the two smaller children who were in front of him, knocking the little girl over. Valerie stopped to help her back up, and with that story...I knew I had the ultimate prank.

I called my friend Corisa and asked her for her help in the matter. As I laid out the plans for the event, her voice showed concern for her own safety, as she knew he might get really angry. I promised to take full responsibility, and the plans were set. Since John was a creature of habit, and a very sound sleeper, we were able to pull off the prank very easily.

On the night before Halloween, John mentioned that he was fully expecting me to pull a prank on him. I just smiled and said "I would never do that!" He went to bed at 11:00 and at midnight, I snuck up and let Corisa into the house. We put fake sticky spider webs in the bedroom doorway and then Corisa went to sleep on the sofa.

6:00 AM: Halloween, the alarm clock goes off. John hits the snooze button, as he did every day. Corisa heard the alarm and went into the bathroom and hid behind John's black shower curtain. She had put on a hockey mask and had a chainsaw with her. (yes...I know...we are going to hell for this prank)

6:10 AM: The alarm clock goes off for a second time. John wakes up, mumbles good morning (and I am trying hard not to laugh at this point), gets up, scratches his butt through his boxer shorts, and walks towards the bathroom. As he walks through the fake spider webbing, he screams out and wipes his face several times trying to get the webbing off. I burst out laughing as he chastises me. The last thing he said to me that morning was "funny prank...Ha...Ha...Ha" in a sarcastic tone. It was the last thing he said to me for a month.

Grumbling under his breath, he walked into his bathroom. Lifted the seat and urinated in the toilet. Quick flush and he reached in behind the shower curtain to turn on the shower. Corisa was ready for him. As he reached in, she pulled the starter cord and started up what can only be described as the most obnoxious sound you can ever possibly hear. John let out a shriek of terror that was in such an octave that dogs in China could have heard him. It sounded like a little girl was being murdered in the bathroom, rather than a 26 year old man about to have a heart attack.

Corisa raised up the saw and started to saw through the shower curtain, and that truly was all it took for John's feet to take action. With the force of 10 human beings full of adrenalin, John bolted out of the bathroom door, across the hallway, and through open the front door, where he ran outside, down the steps and half the way down the block with me chasing after him, holding a jacket and shoes. John was still only wearing his boxers.

When I caught up to him, I explained that it was a Halloween prank, and that was when his anger set in. We walked back to the apartment with me laughing all the way, and as we got into the doorway, Corisa took his picture. That picture had to be destroyed as John threatened bodily harm if I ever show it. I'll have to find it and scan it now that we aren't together.

So if you ever hear a high pitched scream, and dogs all around you start howling...know that I have struck again.

Whatever You Do...Don't Eat The Butter

Today for some reason, I'm having a horrible time coming up with something to write, so I decided maybe I should write about things we do when we should be working. But since I am *ahem* working diligently today, I'm having to compose this on my lunch hour.

Video Games - I see more people playing video games at work than I care to admit. Biggest offenders are the games section of MSN, and POPCAP. I have actually heard a woman at another desk curse because she lost her score when the power flashed.

Shopping - While at worked at my last company, I worked right next to the mail drop. Each day someone was getting packages from Land's End, Nordstrom, Eddie Bower, Gap, and Banana Republic (maybe this company just paid their workers too well???). Even here, I see people shopping and having their products delivered to the office.

Personal Hygiene - This is not limited to people using the whitening strips on their teeth (I'm guilty of that today), painting their toe nails and finger nails, brushing their teeth, and one guy who felt the need to put on cologne as often as I do before a first date.

Internet Porn - Lets just say, you would be surprised what the boss' secretary looks at when nobody is looking.

The Dirty Deed - And this last bit cracks me up and repulses me at the same time. Sex at work. Yes I admit it, when I worked at a prior job, I have had to "take care of personal business" while working by myself on a Saturday. Yeah...I know men are pigs...whatever...like you wouldn't do it if you knew you could get away with it. Spanking the monkey, playing with the pud, yanking the crank, spit polishing the knob....if our employers just gave us a scheduled time to get off we would all be so much more productive. I know I would. Now I know that it might be difficult to schedule a break like that when I'm doing stage work, so I would be willing to put that off, but for the 8-10 hour a day jobs? Come on...Men think about sex every 30 seconds. Do you realize how hard it can get (pun intended) over 10 hours?

Well this weekend, a friend told me while drinking a cosmopolitan (actually that should be plural) about a work place sexual act that he experienced. He and the man he was involved with were in the office on a Saturday evening and things proceeded to get a bit amorous....ah hell...they were hot for each other. Well unfortunately with gay men...we generally need a little lubricant in order to have sex (if you don't know why...don't ask...you aren't ready or old enough to know). Well at this point the two of them were pretty desperate, and the one guy grabbed a stick of butter from the office fridgerator and rubbed that in the place that needed it. The act over, they cleaned up and went home, where they spooned romantically and enjoyed the rest of the weekend.

Tuesday, my friend realized, he never asked where his boyfriend had thrown the butter out after their use. He boyfriend answered with "I just put in back in the fridge on the butter dish." I don't know about you, but I will never eat anything from the office fridge again, and I think I want to start working from home.

Sex happens at the work place. We know it does, or we wouldn't hear about all those extra marital affairs that happen between office co-workers.

Freaking Myself Out

Saturday night I went to the tarot reading and psychic party. I was the only man there, which meant I was in for an evening of estrogen induced man bashing. I fit right it.

The tarot reader was unable to show as she had an emergency, but the psychic did show up. One at a time, we were sent to the basement, where she would do readings on us. I was the second to the last person, so I spent most of the evening socializing and sucking down olives (which were out for the munching).

On my turn, I was sent to the basement, where I was confronted with a woman who had hair the color of Bozo the clown. Fire engine red doesn't even quite describe what her hair looked like, but it does make a close comparison. Now I went into this being a skeptic, and very quickly was fairly convinced that she could pick up a lot. She asked that I tell her my first name, and hold her hand for one moment. She then began writing things down, and I was to write down questions I would want to ask her. When I looked up, she began telling me some things. Now keep in mind that I have not said a word besides my name.

She mentioned Bilbored's real name to me and asked that I give you this message. Special guy is thinking of you often and you should make a move in June. And yes Bill, at this point, every hair was standing straight up on my arms, as well as most of the hair on my neck.

The temperature in the room seemed to get much colder and she mentioned that yes my life has turned into somewhat of a soap opera, but that "garland" was right...just like vampires...drama has to be invited in. What none of you know is that I asked my friend Holly in an e-mail that particular question and her answer was that "Drama is like vampires...it has to be invited in."

Are you all creeped out...because I personally shit a brick at that moment. So I listened intently as she confirmed my suspicion that a particular female I see each week has been stabbing me in the back (she actually mentioned her by first and last name...only reversing them). She even mentioned particular events that she said were when she has stabbed me (one that I had originally thought was unintentional). This psychic also warned me that she reads this site a lot more that I originally thought, and uses what she reads against me.

Mary Lou, she says you are going to get to direct a show soon...and I hadn't even asked her that question or mentioned you. Is it the show you mentioned to me?...that she didn't know...just that she saw you directing again because of your success with the prior musical.

The rest of what was said to me was a bit more personal, and I won't share, but I seriously felt the need for a strong drink to get the hairs on my neck to relax again.

Getting Shafted on Good Friday.

Thursday night, I was at the improv comedy club here in Cleveland, and was planning on meeting a friend who was visiting in from out of town after the show. On the way home from the club, I hear a boom as I'm driving, followed by a rumbling sound. Now those of you who read this regularly know that last week, I got a flat tire on my front right wheel and bent the rim. I have been driving around on my temporary spare tire (which everyone seems to call a donut, although I find nothing sweet or tasty about it).

Being broke, I was unable to purchase a new rim and tire until payday, which was the next day. Fate was not on my side here though. The donut went flat as I traveled down Cleveland's sorry excuse for road maintenance. Not to mention where I broke down could only be described as "the hood." I think my exact words were shit, fuck, damn, piss, hell!!!!

An interesting thing happened though, or at least something I found interesting. One of the comics performing on Thursday was a racist S. O. B. So when I was stuck in a really bad area of Cleveland, I saw several cars that passed me. The only cars that would stop to see if I needed help contained African-Americans. One particular woman offered to wait with me until someone I knew could show up, as she didn't feel comfortable leaving me sitting alone in the area.

I called Triple A, and ordered a tow truck (which took over an hour to show up). I then called a friend who drove down and waited with me on the side of the road until the tow truck showed up. Car towed to a repair shop, I prepared for the following day.

Friday, I went to the repair shop, dropped my pants, bent over, grabbed my ankles and asked "how much is this going to cost me?" After two tires, a rim job (gay boys are allowed to laugh at that one), and an alignment, I was charged $283. The guy might as well have also said I needed a new flux capacitor and it would have cost me an additional 1000. I admit it...I know NOTHING about cars. For that reason, I hate going to the auto mechanic, as your are just at their mercy.

So thank you mastercard. I will have these tires paid off by the year 2027. Shit!

Humping on Wednesday

So I have something in common with a certain person in Portland. I have developed a crush that seems to be getting intense. Ok...crush is a crappy word, and sounds like something we have when we are teenagers...not something a 34 year old man has. MEN (said with a grunt) don't have crushes. Well this man does, and it's intense. Additionally...crushes usually involve one sided feelings...and based on our phone conversations, this isn't one sided. So, since a reader of his blog has renamed the word " crush" as a "Crunch"...I'm going with that. I have a Crunch. Does that sound like some type of VD? "Doc...I have a Crunch that needs burned off my penis."

Other thoughts of the day:
Why is it when we take a dump, we always look in the toilet before flushing? WE KNOW WHAT IS IN THERE! Are we looking to see if we should be proud of it? "Hey Carl. Check this out...It resembles the Virgin Mary". I can see the papers now: "Thousands Line up to See Visions of Virgin Mary Stool." Yes...I'm going to hell...but according to Pat Buchanan, so are all the other gay people...so I will be in good company. Not to mention...if I did go to heaven, I'd have to wear white...after Labor Day.

Have I mentioned that Crunch has one of the greatest voices....Especially when I wake him up in the morning?

Ok...so my mind keeps wandering back to crunch today. Must be the fog.

A New Bill of Rights

This morning, while listening to the news (parked on the freeway in gridlock), I heard the most interesting thing on the radio. Conservative students around the country are feeling the need to "come out of the closet" about being conservative. Brandeis University even had a "coming out" week for conservatives where they had Bush/Cheney propoganda and voter registration cards. These kids have teamed up with two legislators to propose a "Academic Bill of Rights". They feel that as conservatives, they are being discriminated against, being only taught a liberal agenda. One girl got on the air and said that her professor said if she attended a pro-war rally, she would fail. Hmm....Interesting...I once wanted to attend a rally by Hillary Clinton in College, but couldn't because my class had an ATTENDANCE POLICY. IF I MISSED CLASS I WOULD HAVE FAILED! DISCRIMINATION!!!!

Another girl said she failed a test because she refused to write an answer to the question "Why is George Bush a War Criminal?" To me: This is an excellent test question. It forces the student to analyze the argument from the opposing side. In war...who ever wins will call the other side the side that was "wrong". If the Native Americans had prevailed, the United States officials would have been considered war criminals for forcing the Native Americans to walk the "Trail of Tears". We Americans could even be considered "terrorists" for fighting the British, when we declared our independence from the Monarchy.

Lastly, this Bill of Rights says some fairly specific things, including that no class shall be forced into any particular belief or faith. It's that what they want...bring it on. Close Colorado Christian University, which makes each student and administrator sign a declaration of faith and agree to a Christian Code of Ethics. While we're at it, we can close the Citadel, and all the military schools as they require that students and faculty say the pledge of allegiance. (*gasp*...and be under GOD?).

If these student's feel that they are being discriminated against for being conservative...then PROVE IT! Make changes by proposing a Christian based class. Every major University has a Campus Crusade for Christ on their campus. This organization has to have a faculty member. That member can teach a course. Study on your own (ISN'T THAT PART OF SCHOOL?) and argue a point in class. Quit your whining. Faculty follow a standard of ethics that grades you on merit...not on your beliefs.


Why not create a Taxpayer's Bill or Rights!

1. No legislator can have in increase in pay with getting prior approval by a Majority of Registered Voters from that legislator's represented district.

2. As a legislator, all correspondence and meetings are considered job related, and therefore are recorded for public record.

3. The starting salary for a newly elected 1st term officials in federal representation will be 50,000 (NOT THE STANDARD 150,000 THEY CURRENTLY GET!)

4. Housing in Washington DC will consist of an 1 bedroom apartment per couple. In the event the legislator has children, they will be granted up to two additional bedrooms, 1 for each sex of the dependents (why the hell shouldn't their kids have to share a room?).

5. All legislators must follow a strict rule on not adding any additional clauses and legislation acts to bills that do not specifically pertain to those particular bills (No Farm subsidy and Corporate Tax cuts on the same freaking bills anymore!)

Hey, all this ranting has got me thinking...Why not create my own Bill of Rights? I am a member of the CWCSC (Corporate Whore Cock Sucker Club...We're professionals). I should have a Bill of Rights as well.

Patrick's Bill of Rights

1. In public, I have the right to stare at straight men I find attractive, and if I get the courage, to ask them if they would like to go out on a date.

2. If I am rejected, I can offer to just have sex as a second option.

3. White after Labor Day is to be banned at all times.

4. Men with hot ass's should expect passes.

5. If you tell me it's longer than 7" and it's not, I get to yank it until it is. (a thanks to whoever wrote this first...I forget who it was)

6. If you don't know me and ask if I have a girlfriend, I can ask you if you have a fuck buddy.

7. If you drunk dial me...expect phone sex.

8. If I am driving down the road, you must put away your food, makeup, shaving supplies, newspapers, and cellphones and PAY ATTENTION TO DRIVING!!!

Can I Ride This Roller Coaster?

So in the past few weeks I've been a bit on the cryptic side regarding a certain person that has been whispering sweet somethings to me. He has called me just because, and the funny thing is that he has called me just when I was hoping for a phone call from him. It's this weird psychic connection we have going. He's called when I needed a phone call, and even sent daily e-mails to my work address. He's so sweet, and these last couple of weeks have been incredible. So why am I nervous, nay...terrified? Well we've never met in person, and he lives 3000 miles away. He understands the nature of the business I am in, and today I admitted one of my current greatest fears to him, regarding something that happened last night. Before him I had only really admitted this fear to one other person in Cleveland. Jeff, and he didn't really care since it didn't involve him.

"What was this fear" you ask? Well...it's kind of complicated. Don't ask me why I am feeling the need to share this with other people, except that by writing this out, I hope to take away some of the fear that controls me. Being a survivor of esophogeal cancer, I have significant scar tissue within my esophogus. This scar tissue is supposed to be checked every couple months by a doctor using an EGD test (Tube down the throat while I am sedated). With no real health insurance, I can't afford a $10,000 test done 4 times a year. So...I just hope for the best. Well this scar tissue causes difficulty in swallowing certain foods. Meat, starches (pasta and rice especially), thick liquids, and hot liquids. Usually I can control it by drinking a lot of water with my meals (think 8 glasses sometimes), which basically pushed the food down.

Well last night, I took a friend out for a special dinner to celebrate his birthday. At the restaurant, we were eating our meals (and I was chugging water like it was going out of style). Post dinner, I ordered a coffee, and unfortunately since I have to sip coffee, it was sticking going down. I suddenly realized the coffee was stuck pretty bad, and got up to go to the restroom. Long story short, I ended up up-chucking my dinner in the restroom. This just makes me mad for so many reasons...including that I really was mad that I wasted my money on a dinner I just up-chucked. What concerns me the most is that I could be ending my remission, and going back to an active cancer, which means some really bad news.

Well last night, he called me, and he could sense that something was wrong. I ended up telling him, and today he surprised me by saying he wished he could just kiss my throat better. Having someone, who even 3000 miles away, can make me feel that special is a shock to me. He is so special , and I look forward to hearing from him on future evenings, let alone meeting him in person.

So my head currently is a bundle of confusion between where my feelings are going with someone so far away physically, not to mention the fear of opening myself up to being vulnerable. Jeff was the last person I trusted implicitly, and his abuse created a new wall in my life. I rarely trust anyone now, and I second guess people's motives. This guy seems to be of an honorable motive, and I didn't think that existed anymore. That's what is making me the most scared. How the hell did I get on this roller coaster in the first place and why can't I just sit back and enjoy the ride?

I decided it was time to create a logo. Anybody want to offer constructive criticism?
I'll stick with this one unless I find a better one.

Very Superstitious

NOTE: The following link is not work safe.

How to insure a man doesn't cheat on you.

Touch My Crystal Balls

On April 10th, I am attending a tarrot reading party at my friend Kerri's house. Fifteen of us are going to get readings in order to find out what is in our futures as well as meet with a psychic. So I've been thinking, what things would I want to know about my immediate future? How about..."How much money is my therapist going to make off of me, before I quit going?" " or " is the guy who said this to me I will just shift into actor mode and pretend I am not thinking about you even though I will be. A LOT. as sweet as I think he is?" or "What are the winning powerball numbers?"

Obviously I don't take a lot of stock in fortune telling, but I do believe that some people may be attuned to knowing what is going to happen, or have psychic premonitions. For example, my father had kicked me out of the house when I told him I was gay. It was the last time we spoke. I never even knew he went to the hospital and was living in NYC when he died. The day he died (July 3rd), I woke up suddenly around 6 AM knowing he had died. I figured it must have been a dream, except that a week later, I received a letter from my cousin saying that he had died and was buried but that the family wasn't going to tell me. He died at 5:54 am on July 3rd. Coincidence? Maybe, but I do think we all have paranormal experiences once in a while.

I've never had a bad experience with Ouiji Boards, but it seems like most people I know have. I've heard it all from a radio turning itself on, to a friend falling into a trance. So I'm asking all of you out there in blogdom. Have you used a Ouiji board? What have your experiences been?