Thursday, March 31, 2011


I love musicals. If this makes me a gay man, then I'm here and I'm queer because I mean fucking LOVE. No one believes me when I tell them this and I guess I can see why since I have no explanation myself. But singing and dancing and jazz hands? LOVE.

I really don't think anyone gets how many musicals I have attended in my 29 years thus far, so I'll go ahead and name them. Bear in mind that these are only the ones I remember, cause my brain cells are fighting a losing battle over here. Some deserved sidenotes, and the ones marked with a * I attended with my ex-gay-boyfriend who broke up with me last Summer because I ate shrooms (that he gave me) at a renaissance faire we went to for his birthday. True story.

A Chorus Line All time favorite. There is a song in it called "Tits & Ass"!! That I knew all the lyrics to by the time I was 10. Quality parenting, mom and dad. 
Phantom of the Opera* Does anyone else have phantom fantasies? PHANTASIES. There has got to be a chat room for this.
Guys & Dolls
Bye Bye Birdie
Hello, Dolly!
Into The Woods
The King & I Acted in this bitch when I was in elementary school. Played an Oriental. Haha no I didn't, that's racist. Played a gook.
Little Shop of Horrors Okay, so not everyone shares my love of musical theater, like an ex boif of mine that I tried to trick into watching "Sweeney Todd" and he straight up made me walk the movie back to the video store and return it, but I really don't think it's humanly possible to hate LSOH. It's about a giant man-eating fucking venus fly trap! And the movie stars Rick Moranis! And why is there no "Spaceballs" the musical?? WTF Mel Brooks, round up your Jew Crew and make that shit happen.
Man of La Mancha
The Music Man
A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum
42 Street* Front row.
Rocky Horror Picture Show A few years ago, Gandy and I went to a movie showing of this in Chelsea. We were not aware that a bunch of high school kids were going to be in front of the screen acting the entire thing out, so we ran across the street to Trailer Park bar and convinced them to sell us reinforcement booze. The rest of the evening's events are hazy and may or may not have ended with me tackling one of the "players" as they ran down an aisle. Theater kids. Shudder.
Fiddler On The Roof
Sweet Charity* This is the funnest shit to dance to, ever. Believe.
West Side Story Sharks! Jets! My dad used to snap his fingers and sing and dance to this to embarrass me when I was in jr. high at the mall and shit, which my friends found hilarious and pretty much made me want to die from embarrassment. Quality parenting.
Camelot More like snoozical.
Lion King* Fun fact- I was supposed to get a bro tat with Shanon the night we had tickets to this and I told her I'd leave at intermission to come meet her. Is it my fault that that show is freaking awesome and so I drank whiskey at intermission instead of leaving and so only one of us has a feather tattooed on their wrist that looks like a baboon's butthole? I think not.
Hair Hippies can seriously suck it. That being said, I'm pretty sure that last night Chris made me pinky promise to go camping at a jam band festival this summer. Damn you, booze, and your powers of persuasion.  
Chicago Okay, I haven't technically "seen" Chicago live, but buying the DVD was one of the best things that has ever happened to me and Gandy and you are hearing lies if you hear otherwise.
Xanadu* Few people can claim they saw Xanadu on Broadway and actually sat on the stage during the performance and was a part of the show and they gave you glowsticks and told you to dance at certain parts and yell things at other parts while actors zoomed by on rollerskates. While tripping out. I am one of those few.

Shannie's Music Poo Baw Whatever

Austin was fun because I hung out with tons of Mexican looking dudes with long hair and tattoos, as well as shithead 21 year old skaters. For those of you that don't know, that is my taste du 2011. But let us not forget the 3rd type, as Chris so poetically put it last night in a text sent from Jenny's phone (you can't trick me, Buns) - "rhino cock is your jam." Indeed. That reminds me also that the other day Gandy made some reference to a freelancer he was working with that I would think is hot. But then he said, "scratch that, he's your type from 3 years ago." BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN GANDY?

Anyway, Austin was also fun because it reinjected a love of music into me, which is what it's all about. I guess. It was only my concentration at Gallatin, nbd.

FIDLAR - Max Can't Surf

I love these idiots. First time I met them they told me about how they hid a bunch of drugs on the drive from LA to Austin after remembering the Texan boarder is tough as shit. I love treasure maps!

The Weeknd - House of Balloons

Gandy and I just got into a tiff because he thought I was talking about the awesome punk band, Weekend, and he got his manties in a bunch about the missing "e." Anyway, as my friend Dave put it when referring to this R&B awesomeness, "I like this, but I feel weird listening to it." Racist, but true. I've listened to that whole album about 5 times now and I feel totally comfortable in my white girl skin ...mostly because he samples Beach House. Jokes!

Weekend - Coma Summer

Ok why not throw this band in for shits and giggles. I love some power punk. Not joking. Although I'm not sure if that's an accurate description. Shrug.

Babies - Meet Me In The City

I love this band. A lot. One of them is my coworker's room mate, or some shit like that. Same coworker from the whole mdma experience. So at first that really made me want to hate them, but dammit I can't.

Ok that's it for now. Here's a pic of some shirtless hardcore boys I took at some party or other that left me sunburnt as a bitch.

Mom Texts, WTF

Jenny's last post about chatting with her Mom reminded me of my own most recent hell - Mom texts. She just got an iPhone 4, which by the way, is annoying in and of itself. The woman used to use her cell phone twice a year last I checked, and that was when she went out of town and had it "for emergencies." Other than that it was turned off. So yeah, now she has a crazy phone and I can't decide what's worse, when we used to speak once a month over the phone, or now when she texts me 20 times a day.

Here are some choice examples:

"Sleep good. I'm going to watch Dancing with the Stars. You know how I am."
"Happy Sat. Are you having a good day?"
"Dearest Shanon, good morning, from your ever loving mother." (I got this text at 6:30am)
"Did those photos go through?" (see below for the photo, so crucial to have received pics of my mom's fat pug at 10pm on a Friday)

...and then there was this gem last night:

"Happy Wed. We had a good time in Reno, didn't win anything but it was good to get away for a couple of days. Uncle Donald is still in the hospital not doing very well, I'll let you know what happens. Egypt is for sure, really looking forward for us all. (Side note: this last sentence is referring to our upcoming vacation to Egypt, over which my mother has been fretting and hoping that "that revolution doesn't get in the way.")

My response to her on this last one was
"TEXT ETIQUETTE RULES MOM: never send bummer news like Uncle Donald dying to me via text, that deserves a phone call. Now I'm just sad at my friends' bday party, what the hell."

2 minutes later I got a phone call in which she called me "dramatic."

Yeah, she's annoying.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Terrible Pickup Spots

The other day I was feeling complainy and therefore called my mom, because what better way to repay her for the gift of life then by complaining about poor decisions I make, amiright. In particular though, I was bitching about being tired of making out with lame dudes. Her advice was try hanging out at places other than the bar (moms can be funny too, you see) and then she suggested on my days off I "ride my bike to the library." I then asked her why she wanted me to date a homeless man, was it so we could look for jobs in the newspaper (another suggestion) classifieds together, since they'd be doubling as insulation in our cardboard box/love nest? These suggestions were cute, but clearly obsolete and although it's true that I currently do not have internet or a TV at my house for the time being, hanging out at Brooklyn public libraries is not the place to find quality kielbass. Plus I stole a mess of VHS tapes from them back in 2001 and by never going back have since written off as the perfect crime.

Relayed this info to my brother, who told me to start hanging out at the Christian Science Reading Room, where I could find a nice guy to settle down with. Clearly a joke, but I'm sure people actually do this. Stupid people! Who's gonna buy a used car without taking it out for a test-drive first. Oh, Christians.

Then I thought, what about the grocery store. Because sometimes I see bangin dudes at the grocery store and I think about maybe striking up a convo with one whilst in the checkout line...then I look down and see that my basket looks like the first time Tom Hanks goes grocery shopping as a teenage boy in an adult's body, via "Big." Sidenote: The last time I went to the grocery store, my favorite jeans split on the walk over, but do you think that stopped me from buying funfetti cake mix and pancake ingredients, hell naw. Hell naw.

Speaking of "Big," toy stores is another terrible place to pick up dudes. I'm guessing there's way less T. Hankses frequenting toy stores in real life and way more dudes that probs legally don't belong within 200 yards. Or they're married and although there is the possibility of snagging a stray DILF, you better double check your math before hitting it with a hot dad because last time I worked out that equation, me being around kids for longer than twenty minutes/when I'm sleepy/when I'm hungover/most of the time doesn't add up. On that note, if my calculations are correct it is five o'clock somewhere. Jenny out.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011


Dear blog,

I sincerely apologize for being so neglectful. It's not you, it's me! I'm just going through a really busy time at work, and well, one day I will learn how to juggle work and blog. I also made this promise to your other mom, Jenny, 'cause boy can she be a naggy bo baggy sometimes.

So for now, please except these pics of hot boys I met at SXSW as further proof of how sorry I am. I definitely wanted to hit a home run with a few, but then went and did mdma with a coworker instead. As a result all required effort to seal deals was redirected to cuddling with said coworker while he rubbed my hair. Sadly, I'm not making this story up.


Boner of the Day

Stephen Dorff. Last Thursday night got weird, which I guess happens when you take a 100 proof flask of Old Granddad whiskey for a stroll over the bridge. Most of the night's events I thought I remembered, but when I went to look up something on my phone Friday morning and saw my last Google search was, "Where does Stephen Dorff live," a whole 'nother mess of memories came flooding back...including an attempt around 5am by me & Miles to find out where Stephen lives and be-friend him. I dunno whose idea this was, but I do remember having a conversation about him and how he really hasn't been up to much lately (Blade 3??) and that he probably lives in Brooklyn and has some time on his hands and would be way into being our friend. Why we concocted this plan while watching "White Men Can't Jump" is anybody's guess. Said plan was quickly aborted in favor of nachos, but the next day I was watching Roseanne and Stevie popped up again, as Becky's boif Jimmy, like a sign from the God of All Things Nineties.

I am pedo for him back then and the opposite of pedo for him now, since he's older than me. Which I guess just means I want to hit it and who doesn't, look how fine dude is. He's one of those people that "shirts" shouldn't apply to. In fact, let's all take our shirts off, in honor of Stephen Dorff Day (every day for S.D.). Fuck yeah, Stephen Dorff.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Disney Villians, A Boning Breakdown

Jafar. Guys with goatees, ugh. Think I'd rather do it with a giant blue genie who has the voice of Robin Williams than Jafar.

Ursula. Hell naw. Even if she did manage to steal the voice of a high-maintenance babe like Ariel, it still wouldn't make me want to octo-scissor with Big Urs. But what I really don't get is, if she can take the shape of an attractive woman to trick a prince into marrying her anytime she pleases, why does she choose to kick it in the form of my high school gym teacher instead. Riddle me that.

Scar. We all have an "Uncle Scar" who never got married and lives with his "friend" Sam in San Francisco where they own a flower shop  That being said, if he weren't a mo, he'd have to call the pussy patrol to beat the ladies away with a stick with bedroom eyes like that.

Cruella De Ville. I'm just gonna say what we're all thinking the curtains match the drapes?

Gaston. Sure, he has two strikes against him; being French and extremely full of himself (so really just "extra-French") and if I were a betting woman, would put all my money on him being a date rapist, but that being said, yes please. With guns like those, even the ponytail gets a free pass.

Stromboli. Umm, of course he was stoked when Pinocchio became a "real boy." Who wants a chubby full of splinters.

Siamese Cats. Are these guys even villains? I think they're just cats being cats, aka slightly evil at all times. But everyone's got a doin it with twins fantasy buried deep down somewhere amiright? No? Just me? Shrug.

Prince John. I'd be more into the John if Robin Hood wasn't literally such a fox.
Sidebar: Hey Disney, cool it with the evil snake sidekicks. We get it.

Mad Hatter/Caterpillar/Queen of Hearts/Cheshire Cat. Man, everyone is out to get this bitch Alice, huh. Don't the flowers even try and mess with her? She's a girl after my own heart; eating strange cakes that make you feel funny and drinking mystery beverages because the label tells you to, why does everyone gotta hate. In this sitch though, I think what's best is to kick that grinning cat in the junk, ace the Queen of Hearts, steal the caterpillar's drugs and go get weird with the Mad Hatter. Craziest ones are always the best in the sack. It's science.

Missed Connection Responses

It's been a week since I posted my missed connection on Craigslist and I got ten solid responses. Here they are below, with replies that I never bothered sending, in red.

Wow. That is fucking hilarious. How does a guy get 3 BJ's in 1 night anyhow?
I am an attractive man, but can't hold a candle to that. 1 BJ in an evening is plenty and I would be grateful and satisfied.
Besides, who has that much semen? After blowing your load once, what's the point? You're just going to have a rock hard cock and never orgasm.
BTW - I voted your post for 'best of CL'
Is this dude trying to hit on me? If so, I am all for it. Attractive and satisfied with only one bj per night? Man, all this time I have been doling out beej after beej after beej to what I guess you could classify as men, but are really more like hideous deformed trolls, so SIGN. ME. UP. And how does one get on Craig's "Best of" list anyways.

you're fucking awesome. congratulations on winning the day
This was from a chick named Delia. What're you doing in the WforM missed connections? Get outta here, bitch. After you vote me for Best of Craigs.

Well. Played.

"That which is said is not necessarily true, only necessary." - Kafka
This response was from someone named "Roark." Whose name is "Roark"? Your parents either hate you and so decided to name you something that is sure to bring you a lifetime of taunts and getting called Dork, or else you named yourself that after some Battlestar Gallactica character in which case your parents still probably hate you, as do I.

yoga classes are paying off.
I get what you're doing here, Frankie, and you were very close to being funny, but I just don't know why you submitted this to me in haiku.

this made my morning. thank you whoever you are. i flagged it for the best of craigslist.
Hmm. I keep checking Craig's little pet list and I don't see my post. What gives.

That is the funniest missed connection post I ever read!
This guy sounds like he would say stuff like "You better don't" or "Don't matter none." Get off your front porch and put your shot gun away yokel. But flag me for the best of list, seriously, whose D do I have to S.

I dunno if this is funny or dude just didn't get it. The system really wasn't that complicated.

I was not the guy at the bar but, when people randomly say things like that i also lament on it for days until I can come up with an answer or a joke, but the main thing that you said he said was "last night" meaning it could only have come from one girl OK here is the break down.
Average guy getting one blow job would take 8 minutes non stop if the BJ was great but not ever women is blessed with that sort of talent, so i am  just gonna go head and say with breaks 20-25 minutes with sex included 20 minutes(sex equals less times; cums faster or just wants to get out of there depends on the guy) average guy not including the Marathon winners of lasting long.
we can add in foreplay that's  8-10 minutes(I think foreplay is crucial to a great bj so i spend some time there but that's just me), depends again on the guy but he seem like he thinks he is important so he automatically would say hey i don't need to give the  4play but lets just says he does add 1mins now we are up to 21 minutes.
rehab time depends on the guy, see the average guy and again i am saying average guy needs maybe half an hour and the only reason i know is because i asked my hommies whats their re up time on getting a woody and it differs from 15 to and hour so i am going with the half and hour. Now we are up to 36 minutes. "if you wanna add  taking a shower getting dressed making up an excused to leave so she does get offended by why your not cuddling or spending more time with know the BS that girls do and say to keep your around. we can add an hour, even so now we are up to 1 hour 36 minutes. times that by 3 and we are at 4 hours 8 minutes and that's just between each bj and that's if each one of them was next door to each other. I didn't add n travel time or any phone calls in between and i gave him the minimum of all estimated time. In reality its just not possible unless you set out that night to just get bjs you would have had to plan it in such a way that your in and out in x amount of time wash then move on. But it just doesn't seem like that was the case it had just to be one girl.
P.S i love your rant it was the best I have ever read in years, It put a smile on my face.
Thank you
Was I supposed to read all of that? Good god. Paging Doctor Snooze. How much time does this dude spend "browsing" the missed connections and responding with 400 word essays and where do I apply for this job. Someone get Craig on the phone.

I have no idea who you are, nor am I the guy you are talking about, but I have to say that is one of the funniest things I've ever read on missed connections. And i would know, I've literally sorted through hundreds of these over the past few months for research for a sketch show I'm writing.
In conclusion, you're my f'ing hero.
Sure, bud, lemme know how that"research" for your "sketch show" is coming along. And did you hear that, Craig? I'm someone's GD hero. So fuck you and your twisted mind games. I could care less about your elitist "best" list and any club that wants me as a member I don't want to be apart of. Go to Hell.

I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean it. Don't be like that.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011


And now we play the waiting game. (Click to enlarge)


I woke up this past Saturday slightly hungover and feeling like one of those Garfield posters before he's had his coffee. But the weather was  great and so I hopped on my pony and rode to meet my friend Andy who I hadn't seen in three months, due to a slight falling out. And what better way to bury the hatchet than Irish coffee and photo hunt at the Levee bar? About four beer & shot specials in and the fourth highest score on Funky Monkey, we were thick as thieves again. And what do thieves do at 6:30pm on a Saturday? Go to Pumps, the local strip club of course. We rode our bikes there because we're class acts and once inside, realized that we were the only people in the club that didn't work there. Let me add that is was also my first NY strip club experience and I don't think it was their A-team, but what a nice bunch of ladies we met. They all kept telling me not to be shy and asking if it was my first time, probs due to my giggling like a school-girl every time they came over to us. I touched a lot of boobs (homo? no homo?) that night. Then they tried to convince me to work there. We opted out of Nikita's offer to take us in the back room, but not before having a great discussion about the Frito pie we had for dinner at the Levee. All in all, I am pumped on Pumps and look forward to proudly wearing the t-shirt Andy promised me, now that we've decided to become regulars.

Thursday, March 3, 2011



These two things will NEVER cease to baffle me, and then wonder what the hell kind of best friend I actually have.

Tip: put this on full screen immediately.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Dying Wishes

Last night I took the stinkiest cab ride home of MY LIFE. It was some serious next level funk. I don't recall exactly what I said, but I know I was very put out with the cabbie and put my head out the window, gagging for air. Then I texted my coworker that I had just left, "if this stinky dude kills me, Jenny knows my dying wishes." I'm not really sure why I thought the guy would kill me (ie did I think the stench would suffocate me? Or was I so rude to this guy that I thought he would kill me with his bare hands? The world will never know), but more importantly, Jenny in fact does NOT know my dying wishes. Here they are, please make sure she sticks to them.

1. Only Creedence is allowed to be played at my memorial service. At first I was gonna go with the Mac, but that is just straight up depressing. I want people to party and remember how awesome I am/was. Preferably this song should be on repeat.

2. Following the memorial service I would like Jenny to host a sandwich dinner in my honor. There should be hoagies, Vietnamese sammies, grilled cheeses, etc. No paninis though. Can't stand those bitches.

3. Jenny is in charge of doling out my possessions. No ifs ands or buts. Gandy made a prior request for all of my books but since that dude no-showed on my birthday and has yet to speak to me (AHEM), he is no longer allowed. I think I will give them to

4. Everyone must get Red Velvet tattoos. These can be in any form my buddies see fit. A classily placed RV on the ankle is just as good as an actual slice of the cake on someone's butt.

5. For every February 20th after my death, everyone must get together and drink champagne while watching Star Wars. The original 3. All in a row.

LKPF #5 & 6

I'm not sure why I am just now getting around to posting this, but two weeks ago, I went with my friend Eric to check out "Phil Collins Day," which is apparently on February 15th. Was it Phil's birthday? No. I'm not really sure why the parade took place. Did we both wear our Phil Collins tour t-shirts, thinking we were gonna kill shit? Yes. We both have one, and they rule. Were we expecting a brass band playing "Billy Don't Lose My Number" while a midget danced in the street wearing a black & white xeroxed Phil mask and a car drove down the street with a 5 foot tall paper mache sculpture of Phil's head strapped to it and an after party at a bar where his tour videos were played and we drank Phil Collinses in lieu of Tom Collinses? You tell me.

In honor of this epic day that my brain has taken a solid two weeks to process, I give you Little Known Phil Facts numbers 5 & 6.