While thinking about what I'll be doing once I graduate in May, I said to myself, "But I don't have any skills."

Not even numchuck skills, y'all. Serious.

Posted by Toby at 11:47 PM | Permalink

Our fatty neighbor just stopped by and asked us to turn down our music (soundtrack to "Party Girl"). I think tomorrow I will stop by her apartment and ask her to lose some weight.

Posted by Toby at 05:53 PM | Permalink

Just one more amazing picture of Andy Lawrence for y'all. I hear he is actually 17.

Posted by Toby at 05:34 PM | Permalink

I NEED THIS.

Posted by Toby at 04:45 PM | Permalink

For a 16-year-old, Andy Lawrence is looking HOT. Nice eyebrows.

Haha oh man, and I love this shirt:

Not entirely sure what prompted me to Google Andy Lawrence. NOT THAT I NEED A REASON RIGHT?!

Posted by Toby at 03:32 PM | Permalink

Writing (a book), dating (a boy), cooking (chili), reading (a book on writing a book in a month), cutting (class), smoking (weed), drinking (Gatorade), watching ("Cops"), biting (my nails).

It's not that there's no time to blog. It's just that there's no desire.

Posted by Toby at 12:31 PM | Permalink

Way to go, Kelly! You look like a chipmunk.

Posted by Toby at 10:13 PM | Permalink

No real updates until at least Wednesday, y'all. The Internets are down at my apartment, but they should be fixed by tomorrow.

HOWEVER:

If you or anyone you know is in the grooming business -- hair cutting, waxing, etc. -- please e-mail me by 5 p.m. I'm writing an article for a class on body hair management focused on both men and women, so I would love any professional input I can find.

Have a great Tuesday!

Posted by Toby at 10:02 AM | Permalink

Posted by Toby at 09:48 PM | Permalink

I'm in New (Zoo?) Yawk City 'til Sunday, y'all. Happy stalking!

Posted by Toby at 11:38 AM | Permalink

Strangely, it's that time again — Part II of Vividblurry Fan Fiction, submitted by an anonymous reader. You people really need to get jobs. (Be sure to catch up on Part I before reading ahead!)

Part II: Toby and His Ass of Time

When he came to, Toby was already exhausted- his cock was throbbing, his head was pounding, and his ass- his ass was clenching. He didn’t know how many guys had fucked him at that point, but he was guessing it was more than a few. Had Bravo already fucked him? He hoped not… not that there was much he could do about it. He was tied tight to the goal-post, and no amount of struggling was going to free him. Suddenly, he felt his ass relax- the fucking had stopped… at least for now.

“How do you like it now, Toby?” It was Bravo. Even without the affected speech, the slight lisp, the ever-so-subtle stiffness of the upper lip, one could always tell if Bravo was talking. What Toby couldn’t tell was that Bravo, at this point, was rock-hard- more ready than ever to fuck the life out of Toby like he had dreamed about and jacked off over for years and years.

Indeed, if there was one dream—one yearning Bravo had throughout his life, it was to fuck a guy as gorgeous, as intelligent, as full of machismo and good humor as Toby. The only thing he wanted that surpassed this dream was to be fucked by a man like Toby… but he could never embarrass himself in front of his teammates by bottoming for the guy they just gang-raped.

Bravo began stroking his long, thick, smooth shaft. Pre-cum was oozing out of him, and the wetter his cock got, the harder it proceeded to get. He sidled up behind Toby, and, upon hearing Toby’s protestations, got even harder.

“Bravo, you sick fuck, if you fucking get your dick anywhere near me I will kill you as soon as I’m free.”

“Oh Toby, don’t talk like that…” Bravo gasped in response, “You know I’ve loved you… loved you madly from the first day I ever met you! This entire thing, this whole setup… it was all arranged as a setup so that I could get close to you. The only thing I want more than to fuck you right this moment is for you to fuck me. When I slide my foot-long into your tight, quivering asshole, I’m going to pretend that I’m the bitch slaveboy and it’s your hard cock penetrating me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted in life, Toby- to belong to you.”

Before Toby could respond, Bravo covered Toby’s mouth with his hands. Shaking with fear, with rage, with despair, Toby prepared for what was to come- but before it did, he heard Bravo gasp.

“Oh my god!” Bravo lisped, “Oh my god! What on earth is that?”

Right as Bravo had prepared to push his cock into Toby’s eager bottom, something had happened. Something Bravo had never dreamed about, never even dared to imagine might happen.

A vortex- a tear in the space time continuum- had erupted out of Toby’s asshole. Toby closed his eyes- he was afraid this would happen. His entire life he had known that within him he harnessed the eternal power of the ages, but the only way to access it was through just such a brutal bondage bang that Toby knew he could never, as a hot top, subject himself to. But now it had happened, and only time- in that traditional sense we know it as- could tell what would happen.

Bravo’s teammates’ limp wrists shook and their nelly voices cried out for help as the vortex exploding out of Toby expanded, bigger, bigger, until it was big enough to swallow Bravo whole- and then, as Bravo’s scream sank into the depths, the vortex took a change of course- and swallowed Toby up whole.

With Toby and his Ass of Time gone, the vortex disappeared as well. All that was left on the ground where Bravo was about to fuck Toby was their clothes. Yes, Bravo and Toby had taken a portal to another era—completely naked.

NEXT WEEK: JOIN US AS TOBY AND BRAVO ADVENTURE THROUGH TIME TO DEFEAT THE EVIL SCOURGE THAT THREATENS TO HOLD HOMOS THROUGHOUT TIME HOSTAGE: THE EVER-VIGILANT POLISH PLAGUE… TRABACA!!!

Posted by Toby at 03:35 PM | Permalink

My recognizing Andrew Sullivan on Q and Connecticut, or Andrew Sullivan's recognizing me?

Posted by Toby at 04:48 PM | Permalink

I've received some interesting e-mails about my post on the Secret Simon blog. Most people aren't as angry about my feelings on Simon as they are about my kneejerk reaction to that guy in New York with the new HIV strain. The general consensus is that it was a judgemental, immature and overly harsh entry.

I'm posting the following e-mail because I really do agree with everything this reader says. I edited parts of it because some of it was in reference to a previous e-mail that wouldn't have made any sense to y'all. I tend not to think twice about the things I post on this Web site, but with thousands of people reading every day, I admit that I should be a little more aware of the impact my opinions have on all of you.

… people have been told for years that having unsafe sex will get you into trouble, and that using crystal can only makes things worse … people have been told for years and years…that smoking and drinking will kill them eventually, too—and they still do it. (from what i understand, these are two vices you’ve had your day with also.)

implying that people are bad and wrong and stupid because they’ve made poor decisions, or didn’t care enough about themselves to make the right decisions (which is far more often the case), isn’t productive and doesn’t help anyone. you have to understand that nobody wakes up in the morning and says to themselves, “how about i go out today and develop a debilitating meth habit and contract a disease that can only lead to a protracted, agonizing death brought on by several degenerative illnesses destroying my body at the same time.” not everyone has a toby as a friend reminding them to make better decisions for themselves.

whatever, we’ll obviously never agree on this, but you have to understand that there are larger issues at work with addiction, and simply characterizing it as a “choice” and writing people off because of it only serves to make the issue worse. nobody is asking you to be a role model or not speak your mind or whatever, but when you can’t muster the compassion or maturity to recognize when something is literally an issue of life or death for a lot of people, that’s just sad. and when you decide to publically make fun of someone because they made mistakes and are going to die, that’s just mean. …

UPDATE: An alternate view, one among many:

... With all the jazz going on about the new HIV strain (nevermind the Secret Simon chap), I don’t think your entry was overly judgemental, or harsh. Addictions (be they to sex, or crystal, or something else) in and of themselves aren’t a choice, but the first step is...that fellow had a choice to start engaging in such high-risk behavior. And as for the idea that you should censor yourself: yes, a lot of people read Vividblurry, yes, you have an impact on all of your readers, however, it remains your blog, and your thoughts, no matter how one might view them, are what keep people coming back.

Posted by Toby at 10:52 AM | Permalink

I don't know if you've ever played Gayopoly, but it is clearly THE BEST GAME EVER.

Posted by Toby at 09:31 AM | Permalink

Some husbands take their wives out for dinner on Valentine's Day. Others buy them flowers and enjoy a romantic evening by the vent-free gas fireplace. And then there's Secret Simon, who whispered this sweet nothing into his wife's ear today: "Honey, I'm gay!"

I don't feel bad for Simon just as I don't feel bad for the aging whore in New York who got that sexy new HIV strain. What is that, you say? A 40-year-old gay man had unprotected sex with hundreds of partners in recent months while regularly taking crystal meth? Wow, I can't believe he is now carrying a strain of HIV. And a new one at that! What a trend setter — fabulous!

Similarly, Simon knew what he was getting into when he married his wife. I won't even attempt to describe what his wife must be going through now, but think long and hard about how you and your mother would feel if your father suddenly decided that he is gay. I'm sure Simon isn't having the time of his life right now either, but it's his wife — and their two kids — who are the real victims here.

Still, there is something endearing about Simon. He calls his kids "monkeys." He wants to live his life for his family, not himself. And he responds evenly and appreciatively to every comment on his blog, even when they're nasty — and a lot of them are. Simon is at least better than this clown, a 27-year-old married man who routinely cheats on his wife with other men. Way to go, pal!

I am not judging Simon. I just don't feel bad for him, even though I know we can all learn something from his experience.

Posted by Toby at 07:56 PM | Permalink

I didn't watch the awards because I was busy with homework, but seriously, could my day get any better? Not only did Britney win a Grammy for "Toxic", but Scissor Sisters didn't win a single one! Yay!

Posted by Toby at 08:26 AM | Permalink

Okay, seriously, people: Who keeps posting missed connections about me?

Posted by Toby at 11:08 PM | Permalink

Posted by Toby at 12:30 PM | Permalink

Well, they certainly have all of their target demographics covered.

Posted by Toby at 02:31 PM | Permalink

I have some amazing news, people. Feast your eyes on this!

Yes! Finally! The first season of "Clarissa Explains It All" will be released on DVD! I was totally obsessed with this show when I was little. At first I thought I had a crush on Clarissa, but by the third season I realized I just wanted to be her.

The 13-episode compilation has been announced for a May 17 release that launches a new line of Nickelodeon DVDs, "The Rewind Collection." I'm thinkin' a little "Salute Your Shorts" action, perhaps some "Roundhouse" all up in there. These sitcoms defined my childhood, which probably explains a lot — if not it all.

To get yourself in the Snick mood, download a few theme songs. And watch out for those man-eating jackrabbits and that killer cacti.

Theme Song - "Clarissa Explains It All"

Theme Song - "Hey Dude"

Theme Song - "The Adventures of Pete and Pete"

Posted by Toby at 12:36 AM | Permalink

It seems everyone I know has packed up and moved to New York. My friend Dan graduated in December and is now living on the Upper East Side, interning for an entertainment magazine. The marvelous Debbie is also in New York now, somewhere in the Bronx, I have no idea. But every weekend, she tells me about all the cool bars she went to and all the awesome people she's meeting, and I just want to hop on a train and join her because now that Babe's is closed, I've no place to call home.

But the person who really makes me jealous is Emily of Sweet Blasphemy. We worked together on the school paper and would always get Chipotle together after our sparsely attended assignment meetings. Now she's in New York interviewing hot musical artists (Um, Ryan Cabrera, anyone?) and DJing on the side. (Well, sort of. Her gig is in March at Micky's Blue Room.) I think I secretly want to be one of those frat boy DJs at the Front Page, in which case Emily is living my dream.

Anyway, Emily has a great music blog that you need to check out. Download the Spinto Band's "Brown Boxes" and the Promise Ring's "My Heart Skips A Beat." No Ashlee from what I can see, but we can't all be perfect.

Posted by Toby at 02:44 PM | Permalink

Okay, at least I didn't start off by ordering a fucking Corona. Erica, I am talking to you. The Brickskeller has more than 1,000 beers on its menu — the greatest variety not only in Washington, but in the world — and you order the drink of Cubans. Your boyfriend and his Yuengling are no better, but I expect more from you.

I, on the other hand, began what would shape out to be a very long, very fucked up night with a Sapporo Reserve. Those Japs really know how to make a beer, if you ask me. Better than the Mexicans, that's for sure.

After I finished my Sapporo, I segued gracefully to an English double chocolate stout. Delicious. And among a table of Sam Adams drinkers, I still had my pride.

But not for long.

You see, I'm not sure if you've heard of it, but there's a new drink on the market. It's called Sparks, and it is the greatest mother fucking shit ever poured into a can. No one knows what makes it taste so good or appear so orange, but it probably has something to do with its three main ingredients: caffeine, taurine and alcohol. Amen.

The night went to hell the moment I asked the waitress for a can of Sparks. I'm sorry, but these fancy-pants stouts are not for me. I need to keep it real, and if that means ordering Sparks ($1.50 at most convenience stores) then so be it. I love that I can become revitalized and smashed in one pop of the tab. The trashy factor is pretty cool, too, since I imagine Sparks is the preferred drink of people who think Red Bull is uppity.

Two cans of Sparks later, and we definitely got the party started. Observe:

You can see the fire in my eyes. All due to Sparks, people! Be sure to pick some up at your local gas station, and no, I don't work for Sparks.

If you don't believe me about Sparks being the fountain of youthful indiscretions, then check me out before Sparks:

SEE?! (Sparks even got rid of those drool stains.)

And thanks to Jonny for filling in for me during my pregnancy. The baby's pretty much fine — nothing a little Sparks can't fix.

Posted by Toby at 10:05 PM | Permalink

this is what i did today:

guestblogger for this week. toby has a vagina

Posted by Toby at 05:39 PM | Permalink

Posted by Toby at 06:22 PM | Permalink

guestblogger for now. toby's on maternity leave.
i'd take the advantage to write about the adolescent drama of high school and have hundreds of people read it but you're probably wondering where toby and his ashlee nightmares are. but he ain't here, bitches. so i'll be here for this week because toby's going to be a mother. gawker will probably have all the spicy details of who the father is soon.

in the meantime, my name's jonny and i'm a sophomore at a private school round d.c. i'm sorry if the abrupt leave of toby has left you in tears but he'll be back in a week. i hear he's naming his kid "ashlee".

fag.

Posted by Toby at 06:20 PM | Permalink

The cute boy who works at the Container Store has some nerve not calling me! Was my pickup line of "Do you sell meat pounders?" not enticing enough?

The Super Bowl is sucking, but that Diet Pepsi commercial with Carson Kressley was sort of funny. I like that they incorporated a gay man into a commercial featuring mostly hot women and one lust-worthy guy.

Oh, and I really want a boyfriend. Like, now.

Posted by Toby at 09:55 PM | Permalink

Posted by Toby at 05:10 PM | Permalink

I'm sorry, but you know what? We've all had days like this.

It's just that she happens to have them more than most.

Posted by Toby at 03:19 PM | Permalink

Numchuck skills and computer hacking skills would actually come in handy right about now.

Posted by Toby at 02:17 PM | Permalink

I think I am lactose intolerant!

Posted by Toby at 09:20 AM | Permalink

Okay, so I'm a little tipsy right now and I just watched tonight's episode of "The Ashlee Simpson Show" but if ANYONE can get my friends and I backstage to her concert in Washington this March, I will do almost anything, I swear to god. She is awesome and so are my friends!!!

Posted by Toby at 11:07 PM | Permalink

Today is already off to a bad start. Sasha, my transexual physical therapist, was not in the office today, and so some other therapist with a more identifiable gender performed my ultrasound. Sigh.

Actually, some other patient asked where Sasha was, and the assistant said, "Oh, I think he's coming in later today." Sasha is a he? I'm pretty sure Sasha is not a girl, not yet a woman. Oh man, gender ambiguity is totally ridic.

P.S. Agatha, if you read this, bring home any leftovers of that dessert shit you made last night, I want to try some.

Posted by Toby at 01:55 PM | Permalink

Like, OMG, I have the greatest news, y'all.

Guess who has fifth row center orchestra seats to the Ashlee Simpson concert in March?

ME ME ME ME ME MEEEEE!!!!

This is clearly going to be the greatest concert ever. I plan on being plenty stoned when I go with my friends. The last concert I went to was the Killers at 9:30, so it will be hard to beat. But I'm sure Ashlee can live up to my expectations.

I wonder if and/or what she'll sing?

Posted by Toby at 01:09 PM | Permalink

Who will win: Kemeisha or Ray Ray? Only time — and the sheer force of an angry, money-hungry black girl's bitchslap — can tell. Damn, gurl! [Thanks, Matty. Hot 97 is awesome.]

Posted by Toby at 06:09 PM | Permalink

My favorite part of the D.C. Metro system is waiting 40 minutes for a bus that is supposed to show up every 10 minutes, and just as a bus finally appears, there are five buses from the same route trailing behind it! Oh, boy, I have a selection of six buses from which to choose! See, that's what Metro is all about: customer choice. And boundless frustration. That, too.

If you have any idea what I'm talking about, visit Oh Metro!, this cool blog about D.C. public transportation. It really captures the essence of the WMATA.

And in other D.C. news, we've another daily newspaper on our hands: The Examiner! Let's take a look, shall we? Oh, cool, there's an irrelevant pop star on the front page. I wonder what the headline says.

Celine! Dion, on being an international icon: "There's no other life, baby."

Wow. Really, how shitty is that?

Why I Hate D.C. did a great comparison of The Examiner to the equally crappy Washington Times. And he threw in a few barbs about flaccid lifestyle writer Jen Waters, too. Neat!

Posted by Toby at 03:26 PM | Permalink