Remember my sworn vendetta against Josh and Josh Are Rich And Famous and all they stand for?

Thanks to the wonderful Vagenius, this little gem has just come my way. It appears one of the Joshes posted the following picture picture on his facebook with the caption “hanky code 101.”

Josh, what you are advertising is a little more than “101.” This is more like a full on PhD in ass gymnastics. According to this online guide to the hanky codes, a red hanky in the right hand back pocket means that that the wearer is looking to receive a good fisting. Josh Koll — you slut! That sort of behavior will not land you the sort of gay, married lifestyle recently featured in the NYT you are so very jealous of. You’re much more likely to just end up with a prolapsed rectum.

Fist Patrick called it a few years ago during our senior year at NYU. Beards, he claimed, were going to be make a comeback. And he was right.

In fact, in recent weeks, Christopher Schulz, an art gay in Brooklyn, has received a lot of press for his independently published periodical Pinups that taps into what is becoming known as the “post-bear” culture. Its pages are essentially decorated with images of naked young guys who like their beards, buzz, fuzz, and fur (in fact, the original cover boy is a contributor to this very blog!). And guess what? No mention of bears, cubs, otters, wolves, dragons, witches, unicorns, or time-eating CGI robots. How refreshing! Schulz, instead, considers Pinups to be a larger, publicly-displayed method of feeding his artistic and sexual appetite. It’s not porn for hairy guys and it’s not a catalog dripping with false homoeroticism. Pinups, Schulz claims, “[embraces] natural beauty as opposed to the plethora of ubiquitous Adonises in the commercial ether,” and while that’s a lot of fancy wordage, I totally get it. And it makes me feel super.

2006, a time before Pinups, saw the rebirth of shag, and while it took a while to grow on me, personally, I am an admitted slave to the scruff. So last year, when I grew my own (it’s a scruffy shell of fuzz, not an attempt at being mistaken for Bin Laden), I would never have guessed that I would experience a sea change in the way I was received by others. Read More!

While recently at a comedy show downtown, I sat behind a homeless girl (if living in Williamsburg lofts constitute one as “homeless,” that is) and her friend, a petite, effete young man who acted like a teenybopper circa 1997, orange belly shirt and all. As I sat with my boyfriend at the time, the guy made sure to start chatting us up and dropping the names of places where he had been employed as a go-go dancer (including the OG dumps like Twirl and Heaven, not surprisingly, clubs where my twinky gay friend in high school went to soak his UFO pants on “Foam Night”). If we didn’t already realize that he was, in fact, gay, he made it clear when he brassily suggested we include him in a threesome.

Look, there’s a reason I don’t date girls. Like the bestseller says, I’m just not that into them. Vaginas aren’t necessarily my “thing,” per se, so when this dude literally started to do “skanky dancing” to The Pussycat Dolls song playing overhead, just as he started to tease us with glimpses of his ugly, overpriced underwear (does anyone else think it’s creepy that gay guys scoop up undergarments slightly resembling those worn by those whose balls haven’t yet dropped?), I had enough. Read More!

So on the way home tonight I literally heard this, “So, my vagina was two feet from the hole. And then a dead rat came out. And then it went up there.”

And I was all, “Woah, New York is a dangerous place,” silently in my head. Seriously, guys, stop moving here and driving up my rent.

But like usual that’s not the point here. The point here is mygayestlook.com. Their mission is simple:

On Thursday, March 20, 2008, Jay Leno welcomed as his guest on The Tonight Show the actor Ryan Phillippe, who, early in his career, played a gay character on the daily soap One Life to Live. During the interview, Leno hounded Phillippe, telling him to look into the camera, pretend it was his “gay lover…Billy Bob,” who “has just ridden in shirtless from Wyoming” (still milking the Brokeback jokes), and give it his “gayest look.”…So now it’s your turn! Send us your “gayest look” for Jay here.

Point is, that I felt the need to leave a response. And you can find my probably NSFW but not really NSFW (because the naughty bits are blurred) response after the jump. Read More!

Thank god I can’t have them.

Whoops! I forgot about butt babies! How else will I ever fulfill my dreams of being a hot hipster dad?

So you know what, guys? Forget what I have said about Josh and Josh Are Rich and Famous. The real enemies here are their commenters.

Wow, Schroeder. I am so sorry you missed them too? I am mostly just so sorry you made so much effort to see The Blue Man Group.

And according to today’s entry… boys have hit 5,000 comments. An army is assembling and they will be painting the town different colors of stupid. Beware

[“The Joshes Do Moving Day,” Josh and Josh are Rich and Famous]

Normally I am not one for gay hate. I might allow other authors to publish mildly hateful sentiments on this blog, but I rarely write about it. I do believe in carrying a certain amount of gay shame, but I think that’s healthy. But true honest to god hate against real, homosexual individuals is something I generally try to avoid, because deep down I really do believe in the power of community and solidarity. But I recently read something that struck my heart with fear.

So there’s this stupid, gay blog. It’s really not that big of a deal. It’s just two super gays who get a lot of traffic because they have mild and inoffensive senses of humor and compare their lives to Sex And The City.

Q: You know how much traffic you must get for using Sex And The City related keywords?

A: A lot. So even idiots can be famous on the internet if they tap the right resources for traffic. It’s the same reason the top articles on digg involve pugs “cleaning” your screen.

So as much as I find the blog dumb and mildly vomit inducing (sites like this are why GMSC was started), their way of living and thinking has always been totally non-threatening to me and my lifestyle. I would just think to myself, “Oh, it’s OK, those fags live in Manhattan. I’m safe here in Brooklyn from people who think $1,000 shares are a good deal on an apartment, that their lives parallel Carrie or Miranda from Sex And The City, or that Sushi Samba constitutes a fine dining experience. I can stay in my loft casually dining on New Brooklyn Cuisine and avoid all of that and laugh at it’s novelty from afar.”

But recently I found, much like the Cold War’s domino theory, the threat has slowly moved in close to home. But while the domino theory proved to be a myth, this threat is very, very real. Josh (whichever one… who the fuck knows) has moved to Brooklyn, or as he calls it, “Pulling a Miranda.” Read More!

So I had a big birthday bash on February 2nd as promised. Kudos, me, for surviving for a quarter of a century.

Thank you all that were there.It looked like a bomb of fun (alcoholism) had exploded in my apartment the next day. Never have I been so proud to have so many good friends. One of my fellow writers on this site has since dubbed me “the mayor of hot dudes with beards city.” I was proud to see all the glasses, beards, and flannel. Between the cases of White Castle you wonderful people provided and the keg of Coors, my house was truly a beautiful den of excess and sleaze.
Know what I was also proud of? My sweet sugar daddies over at The Steeez made me a jacket. It has serious upstate New York hardcore punk style. Check it, oy oy oy!

It has some features to enhance one’s style and ease that I need to show off. But also embarrassing features that can only be illustrated with an embarrassing picture, and I’m totally putting it behind the jump. Because I might just kill myself if that became my new homepage. Read More!

I got an email in my inbox today from a good friend who had copied a bunch of known homosexuals asking the following question:

What are people’s general reactions to the men in this article? to this lifestyle?

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/24/garden/24haverland.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

do you feel an automatic urge to tear your face off, or is living a life like this a secret (or not-so secret) ambition?

The article follows the the Galanes-Haverland couple and how expensive things and interior design has drawn them together and made them happy and gay together over the last 12 years.

In my dreams, I am so rich that I hire people like them to design my spaces and then I have a (illegal alien)maid that cleans up after me and helps me bathe so I don’t ever have to be responsible for my own filth. But not everyone is the sort of hedonist I pretend to be. And my buddies had a lot of interesting things to say that are worth sharing.

And now let the feeding frenzy of commentary that can only happen when too many type A personalities are CCed on an email begin! Read More!

It’s time for me to start planning my birthday party, which will be on February 2nd this year at an undisclosed location. Here’s a videoclip from last year’s festivities.

Actually that’s really Tim Curry from 1986’s The Worst Witch. A time when I was still in diapers. You think that’s sexy, right? Whoops, you’re a pedophile!

But seriously, just put my face on Tim Curry’s in that clip, and that was the party last year. I’m working things out myself for the bar and the DJs, but I need food suggestions. Last year was the chocolate fountain. This year…. a fine pickle spread?