...but I really have been extremely busy. I promise an update soon.

Posted by Toby at 09:57 PM | Permalink

YES!

THE HATE IS BACK!

Check out the brand-spankin'-new Why I Hate DC, edited by none other than my FRIEND and NONSEXUAL CRUSH, RUSTY!!!!!!!

Ok, time for bed. xo

Posted by Toby at 10:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

It's not fair that every day I open a newspaper or turn on my computer, only to see a total stranger telling me to be ashamed of who I am and who I love.

I won't quote the Virginia state senator who defends an unnecessary amendment that not only impacts gays and lesbians, but could also severely curtail the rights of non-gay couples. But I will quote Sen. Richard Saslaw, who touches upon what's really wrong with this country:

"If the institution of marriage is in trouble today, it's in trouble because of heterosexuals, not gay people," said Saslaw, D-Fairfax. "We're the ones who have made a mess out of the institution of marriage. To think that somehow or other if we pass this it's going to strengthen the institution of marriage is a sham."

Finally - someone who is living on the same planet that I am.

Posted by Toby at 05:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (15)

It's the weekend, people - so let me leave you with some one-liners in response to a few of this week's Bitch Sessions. Enjoy!

I was there as your friend when you caught your boyfriend cheating on you. The gratitude I get as your roommate is for you and your boyfriend to invite a third over to have make-up sex on my bed!

As my mother used to say: No good deed goes unpunished, especially those of roommates with king-size beds.

The correct answer to, "Is it in yet?" is: "It must be. I just got pulled over for entering the carpool lane."

Well, you shouldn't be trying to drive a scooter on the freeway, honeybun.

I hate you for not having the strength to love me.

Please, I barely have the strength to keep myself from pimp-slapping you for saying something so profoundly retarded.

To the guy who said a big heart is more important than a big penis: Just how big are we talking about?

Who knows? Ask the Size Queen himself. (P.S. Give him a 10, he's my good friend!)

I hope "Bitch Session" is around 20 years from now, so all the twinks repelled at the sight of middle-aged gay men who dare to show their faces in public will find themselves on the receiving end of bitches from twinks who haven't even been born yet!

And in 20 years, you'll be even older and just as bitter.

If you're so hot, why do you need two retail jobs to support your career as a stripper?

Because my career as a stripper supports my crystal meth habit.

Posted by Toby at 05:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I'm dumping the Gentleman Friend, because, you know what, I just found the perfect man!!!

Behold: MIKE WARNER!!! <3

The Japanese businessmen on Wall Street pay top yen for this shit.

I'd describe Mike myself, but, for fear of putting words into his mouth, I'll just copy and paste some "FUN FACTS" verbatim from his Friendster profile!

- He's Canadian!
- He lives his life to its absolute fullest!
- He is not content to lead a normal life!
- He balances an aggressive social life with excessive travel!
- He is fluent in four languages!
- He was President of a nude mock election campaign that made the newspaper and evening news!!!!!!!!!!

MY GOD, HOW CAN YOU RESIST?!

Oh...

Wait...

That's right...

The whole "Hot Boy Posse" thing.

Here's how "GoGo Mike" describes himself on the "Hot Boy Posse Weekend" website:

GoGo Mike, 29, lives in the West Village of Manhattan in New York City, where he has balanced four years of working on Wall Street with an insatiable appetite for travel, networking, and a highly aggressive social calendar. Originally from Vancouver, Canada, he earned his name as a part-time go-go dancer, which he pursued as a hobby on select evenings outside of his Wall Street day job. This lead to inevitable networking, party planning, and eventually, to travel via an unnamed but nationwide network of outgoing gay boys, who he later termed the "Hot Boy Posse," or "HBP".

You know, I love a good neo-Nazi pep rally, so I'll be sure to attend next year, when GoGo Mike turns 30!

Augh. Gag me.

Posted by Toby at 11:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (42)

I left the Saturday afternoon screening of "Brokeback Mountain" in a state of relative calm.

*SPOILERS, DEAD AHEAD! (NO PUN INTENDED)*

Escorted by the Gentleman Friend, I managed to glide by the concession stand, past the box office, and into the cold, lonely frontier that is Dupont Circle on a January weekend, my composure in tact. But when I approached the queue of wide-eyed ticket-holders awaiting the next showing - if only they knew what sorrow awaits them! - I quite literally broke down into a fit of hysterical sobs, openly weeping for all the cruel world to see.

"Why couldn't they end up together?!" I wailed rhetorically. "WHY COULDN'T THEY LIVE ON A RANCH AND RAISE HORSES FOR SHOW?! WHY!!!"

DO NOT BE FOOLED. These cowboys not only break stereotypes - THEY BREAK HEARTS.

I proceeded to go home, feel thoroughly bad for myself, and then pervert the otherwise tasteful Western epic by fantasizing about Heath riding Jake like the rodeo stallion he is. Yeehaw.

Anyway, I am SO HAPPY that "Brokeback Mountain" won four Globes tonight. I wish I knew how to quit this movie, as well as how to quit having emotional breakdowns in public places.

Posted by Toby at 11:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (13)

No time for a real update tonight, but here are a few links to keep you from doing anything productive, god forbid.

* This blogger is responsible for the worst pun in "American Idol" history. EVER.

* Adorable animals.

* "In 1995, my dad, who I had not seen since high school, was supposed to visit for the holidays. At the last minute he said he couldn't visit. He never called for Christmas so I knew something was wrong. They found his body 5 months later, decomposed in his apartment."

* This reminds me of a brilliant passage I came across while reading Margaret Atwood's "The Robber Bride":

Is this a hot flash, or merely the old rage coming back? She's just jealous, people say, as if jealousy is something minor. But it's not, it's the worst, it's the worst feeling there is - incoherent and confused and shameful, and at the same time self-righteous and focused and hard as glass, like the view through a telescope. A feeling of total concentration, but total powerlessness. Which must be why it inspires so much murder: killing is the ultimate control.

So, yeah. Don't say I'm jealous of someone unless you really know what you're talking about.

Posted by Toby at 10:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death to the Gentleman Friend's apartment, I take a look at my life and realize there'd be nothing left had I spent my high school nights smoking marijuana with my friends on a dimly lit street corner.

(Granted, I lived on a cul de sac, so there were no street corners. I had a deprived childhood.)

But it's true: Columbia Heights is one bad-ass neighborhood, complete with bad-ass teenaged hoodlums, bad-ass stray dogs, and bad-ass fatal shootings. Although - and any bemortgaged pioneer in gentrification will tell you so - it is not without its charms.

To wit: The colorful street vendor of the neighborhood park, selling his wares to all with a $20 bill in their pockets and a sense of discretion in their hearts. But what, exactly, does he sell? 'Tis a mystery - one that I'm not willing to solve at this juncture in time. Maybe when the police take the flood lights down, I'll check it out. (Yeah, not really.)

In all seriousness, I like Columbia Heights. Reminds me of a little song I used to sing...

Okay, enough of that.

If it isn't obvious, I inadvertently witnessed a drug-dealing for the first time last night - and on my way to buy eggs!

Addendum: I don't normally do this, but my good friend J. submitted a hilarious second chorus that will have us gettin' all 1991 up in herr'. Enjoy!

Where's the hidden phallus?

Posted by Toby at 11:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

Hmm.

So, I've been alerted by a concerned reader that an ad for "poppers" has appeared on my website.

I find this interesting for a few reasons.

First of all, I don't quite know what poppers are. Yes, I know, this may come as a surprise to you, but as it turns out, I'm not a drug-addled whore. Trust: I mean no offense to drug-addled whores. We all have our vices. But as far as sphincter-relaxing nitrites are concerned, I haven't quite jumped on that band wagon yet.

Second, given the fact that I don't know what poppers are, I approved the ad in question with the understanding that "Rush" is some sort of air freshener or perfume. Clearly, this is not the case; I stand corrected. As per Wikipedia, "Rush" is an inhalant used to induce "easier penetration and enhanced sensation," as well as to "enhance and prolong orgasms." Here at Vividblurry.com, we learn something new every day!

Third, the legality of poppers is unclear to me. One can apparently purchase them at "adult bookstores," although I'm sure its availibility varies from state to state.

That said, I do not want illegal substances to be advertised on my site. (This is a family blog, people!) Also, I do not want anything of "poor taste" to be advertised, either.

What are your thoughts on this matter?

I will keep or remove the ad, depending upon the feedback I receive in the comments. Thanks!

ADDENDUM: I have decided to remove the ad and refund the advertiser in full (a whole $10!). Also note that the Scientology ad was a joke. Don't you all remember the ads for Halliburton and Trojan Magnums? All jokes!

Posted by Toby at 06:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (41)

I have no idea why I'm watching "Jake In Progress."

Is it because its rating of TV-PG-D intrigued me? No....

Is it because John Stamos is so hot? PERHAPS.

Or, is it because I was too lazy to change the channel after "Emily's Reasons Why Not"? Yeah, that sounds about right.

I'll never let you live this down, Stamos. NOT IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO.

Now, at first, I struggled to come up with reasons to watch "Emily's Reasons Why Not" - but then I figured, "Hey, why not!" This rationalization soon proved itself to be severely nearsighted and illogical. There are, in fact, many, many reasons why not to watch "Emily's Reasons Why Not," the foremost being Heather "Fucking" Graham. I have nothing against Heather Graham, per se - I mean, not in the way I wage my wrath in its entirety against Andie "Stupid Accent" MacDowell. Augh, I don't even feel like explaining myself. It's Heather Graham, for crying out loud! Why does she have her own TV show! WHY?!

She's like the girl next door who you hate for no real reason, it just feels right.

I won't even get into "Jake In Progress." There was this one scene where John Stamos is trying to convince his ex-girlfriend to renew their relationship, and it's all awkard, but then there's me, in my living room, watching John Stamos as he tries to renew his career, and it was doubly awkward! In general, though, the show wasn't that bad and didn't bash gays as much as "Emily's Reasons Why Not," so I guess that is good.

Anyway, it sure was great, seeing all of you D.C. bloggers at Ana Marie Cox' reading tonight at Politics & Prose - NOT. Seriously, where the fuck were you people! Some idiot uttered the word "blogosphere" during the question-and-answer period, and I swear, Ana Marie Cox died a little on the inside. Sadly, only one person recognized me: ANA MARIE COX HERSELF! She told the audience that I am hilarious and an alcoholic. I knew then and there that I had made it.

Okay, I'm going to go because my Tivo has evidently picked up on something that contains the keywords "plastic surgery" or "gay." Hopefully it's another 17-year-old getting breast implants. Can't get enough of that shit!

Really? You think Renee Zellwegger has had plastic surgery? Pssh.

Posted by Toby at 10:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (15)

Let's talk about high school for a moment, shall we?

(Oh, that's right. Vividblurry - it goes there.)

Fuck you, Debbie.

Many moons ago - about five years' worth - I found myself in the midst of my own personal pan pizza of Hell. (Extra mushrooms, just to add indigestion to injury.) The infernal flatbread of which I speak, of course, is none other than my attempt at representing high school by means of attributing symbolic meaning to a given object. I got an A in English Honors, needless to say.

Literary elements aside, it may come as a surprise to learn that I was not exactly the most popular person in high school. One might even say, in less generous terms, that I was not popular at all.

Sure, I had my friends. I could probably count them on one hand, depending upon the grade level. In fact, I still talk to two of them, so technically I keep in touch with nearly half of my friends from high school! Not bad, eh? Friends to the end, and all that stuff.

Looking back, the reasons for my general unpopularity are no real mystery. Behold:

1. I did not perform well in competitive sports, e.g. intramural soccer and gym class football.

2. I did perform well in the creative arts, e.g. musicals and journalism club.

3. I disapproved of drinking and smoking - and openly judged those who felt otherwise. Wow, I was a loser.

4. Oh, and also I was closeted and projected my self-hatred onto those around me.

Dude, I'm not gay. Seriously. FUCK YOU.

It would appear, then, that I didn't exactly amount to a "nerd" or a "geek" or anyone else worthy of admiring (or at least pitying) retrospectively. I was just a stand-offish douche who no one really wanted to get to know. Hmm. Well, I'm glad that's settled!

Sigh. I'm not going to be one of those people who long to go back in time and do things over again - but, damn it, what I wouldn't give to go back in time and do things over again! If only I knew then what I know now. Namely, that I'm gay and that permanent records don't mean shit. Armed with that sort of wisdom, surely I could rule the school!

The only reason high school came to mind today is because I spent all of last night Googling, Friendstering, Facebooking and Myspacing everyone in my 2001 yearbook. (I also took a stab at the upperclassmen in my 1999 and 2000 yearbooks. It's funny how all the bullies now look hot!)

After three hours of iStalking, I came up empty-handed - in the sense that not a single classmate with an Internet profile of some kind identified as gay (or simply left the field blank, which is an unspoken code for "gay," if you weren't aware). I find this to be as disappointing as it is implausible. I mean, I cannot be the only guy to have walked off that stage in May of 2001, gripping a diploma and thinking, "I can't wait to get to college and start fucking men!" How could this be?!

Needless to say, I have my well-guarded suspicions. The dim-witted quarterback, for one. And the wrestler on honor roll. If I have to wait until my 10-year reunion to find out, then so be it. But until then, I'll be Googling these bitches until the vodka wears off. They're more than welcome to do the same.

Posted by Toby at 05:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (15)

Well, it's nice to see that Britney's make-up artist from 1998 is getting work.

Posted by Toby at 07:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

Ah, 2006: New year, same shit, eh?

Not as fun as "Happy Chrismakwanzakah."

I know the feeling, my friend. When faced with the promise of a "fresh start," I respond as other jaded existentialists often do: with listless resignation. But what better way to address listlessness... than with lists! (Correct - there is no better way.)

This being not only a blog but also my raison d'etre, I feel it is appropriate for my contribution to the list of 2006 lists to be about blogs. Namely, the Good and the Bad. Consider it my recommendation of what (and what not) to read during the long, tedious and ultimately unremarkable 12 months to follow.

To begin: Five blogs that, in my opinion, are awesome. Tomorrow (or whenever I get around to it): Five blogs that, in my opinion and yours (Don't resist!), suck balls. Big, meaty, family-sized balls.

Shall we?

Top Five Blogs to Read in 2006, As Per Toby's Respectfully Unchallenged Opinion

5. Towleroad

In my experience, "nice" people are usually dim, boring and unfunny. That said, nice people should not have blogs - excepting Andy Towle, who is not only nice, but also intelligent, savvy and compelling. His blog is refreshing in the sense that I don't have to wade through hysterical rants or unwarranted personal attacks to get to the real content. When I want to know what's gay today, I read Towleroad. It's a great blog when judged on its own terms.

4. Goldenfiddle

You're crouched beside a dead prostitute, freezing yet somehow umcomfortably warm, and wondering - frantically! - where the hell your dealer is. And then, like the beacon of an engaged Bic lighter hovering above your crackpipe, Fernando appears from the darkness. Sweet!

Such is the rush one experiences when reading a new post on Goldenfiddle - not that I can draw that metaphor empirically. (All I know is that the dry mouth and trembling hands go away when I read Spencer's blog.) A great way to check in on celebrity without hating yourself, it is.

3. AMERICAblog

See? I am not all about Friendster, Gawker and Craigslist Missed Connections. I do like to keep tabs on the political goings-on, and AMERICAblog is one of the websites to which I turn for this purpose. John Aravosis is a tad overzealous at times, depending upon your leanings, but what's the point of having a popular blog if you can't occasionally (or, in my case, always) be a douche bag?

AMERICAblog picks up what mainstream media leaves behind, especially when it comes to gay issues. Please add this to your daily reads, if only to ensure that we're all on the same page here.

2. You Can't Make It Up

I occasionally hear of readers who - having become instantly enchanted upon discovery of my blog - devoured my entire archive in a single sitting. Really, who can blame them? After all, I did the same thing when I came across You Can't Make It Up. Michelle Collins is hilarious and clever and probably the female, Jewish version of yours truly.

I love reading her blog - I even literally L.O.L. at times. You should read her entry about the Delta Song Quiz Showdown, it is really funny.

1. Vividblurry

Well, what did you expect? Brat Boy School?

I truly feel that my blog is one of the most interesting, honest and entertaining blogs on the Internet, in the world, of all time, ever. Think of each and every update as a gift. Sure, I could keep all the genius to myself, but, no, I choose instead to share it with the world. To my dismay, these quasi-daily gifts are not tax deductible, so feel free to contribute on a per-entry basis (SRP: $19.95).

Honorable Mentions:

The Malcontent. Lowercase libertarianism with a compelling tang of Republican-flavored self-entitlement.

Lindsayism. Hilarity.

Perez Hilton. He hangs out with Paris. Do you?

Dirty Old Prom Queen. Friend of You Can't Make It Up. Equally funny.

FHC's Resurrected Blog. My self-absorbed, self-esteemed, self-medicated hero.

Shades of Gray. The gay version of "Sex and the City" - in the sense that it's updated weekly.

DCLush. My friend and fellow substance abuser.

Trick a Kiss. Match-maker, match-maker. ;)

Pink is the New Blog. Thank God someone else is obsessed with Britney, as well. Phew!

What Else Can Possibly Happen. I only read it on Thursdays.

Queerty. I love Bradford. <3

Good As You. Not as good as me, but good enough.

Posted by Toby at 01:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (16)

Our lord and savior Jesus of Nazareth once famously quipped: "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink."

So was the case yester-evening, when the Roommate and I entertained three wise men (well, two guys and a girl - no pizza place, conspicuously enough) who had traveled that day by Toyota Camry from the sprawling northern suburbs of New Jersey. Weary, famished and presumably parched, the guests nonetheless declined our generous if not aggressive offering of "a drink."

"Take this, all of you, and drink from it," I implored, referencing a chipped coffee mug filled with gin. "It has been poured for you and for all, so that sins may be incited. Do this in memory of me - as I may be unconscious by midnight."

Let us proclaim the mystery (granted, a mystery solved time and time again) of weeknight drinking!

My little song-and-dance impressed no one, with the exception of the Roommate, who admittedly needs little encouragement when it comes to receiving the sacrament in question. And so, the night was spent imbibing among the company of the Unsaved. To each his own, but I cannot help but wonder: What would Jesus drink?

The old "Dasani-into-wine" trick, eh?

Posted by Toby at 03:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

I woke up this morning with only a small headache and a familiar face beside me. I checked the time. 10 a.m. The Gentleman Friend grabbed my arm and told me to lay back down. I considered resisting, but for the first time in four years, there were no alienated friends to which I should apologize, no piles of vomit to clean up, no bottles of Gatorade in need of desperate (and futile) consumption. A shame-free New Year's Day. Strange, perhaps a tad anticlimatic, but nonetheless comforting. I closed my eyes and slept until 2.

Now it's nearly 4. Only an hour to go until I can reasonably polish off that last bottle of Asti.

Posted by Toby at 03:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)