He Who Laughs, Or The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Intimacy

I just watched the new music video for Jay Brannan’s “Housewife” here.  It is so perfect.  I love him.  And I want to know how they filmed it.

From his Time Out New York blog on the Tony nominations:

Just one stinking nomination for Top Girls…and nothing for Elizabeth Marvel?!?

Maybe the Tony nominating committee thinks it’s so very with-it for lavishing noms on Passing Strange and In the Heights. We loved them too. But Tony’s taste in plays is painfully square. Or more specifically, revivals of plays. Manhattan Theatre Club produced an excellent revival of the 1982 Caryl Churchill play Top Girls (see the TONY review here). The play reportedly has grumbling subscribers leaving in droves at intermission ’cause they just can’t understand that durned postmodernism. Martha Plimpton got a nom for Featured Actress and that’s great, but Elizabeth Marvel should be on the list too. And Top Girls wasn’t even nominated for Best Revival of Play. And its superb director, James Macdonald, was snubbed too. Instead, Tony noms the boring, bland Les Liaisons Dangereuses, a stillborn Roundabout production if ever there was one.

What is it, Christmas?

Catching up with 30 Rock on NBC.com

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1 Mug of Fruit Loops

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1 More Mug of Fruit Loops

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1 More Mug of Fruit Loops

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The Return of Floyd on 30 Rock

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1 More Mug of Fruit Loops, in Celebration of Floyd’s Return

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All this happiness, merely from a glance in the park,
so much happiness, so much love …

It’s even better than the first — “Where are my Jews?  Where are my gays?  So you are producers.” — and I have an official crush on Dyllun von Ritter.

(An A train, headed uptown at around midnight. ISAAC sits across from a MAN who is passed out, fast asleep, and sprawled across several seats. The MAN remains this way from 59th Street, when ISAAC boarded the train, until 168th Street, when he sits up, suddenly quite awake. He turns to the WOMAN diagonally across from him, gestures to her pashmina.)

MAN: Did you buy that?
WOMAN: Yes.
MAN: Are you warm?
WOMAN: Yes.
MAN: It looks very nice on you.
WOMAN: Thank you.
MAN: I can say that, right?
WOMAN: Sure.
MAN: Those things always make women look nice. I notice things like that. I look through the magazines and I see what makes a woman look nice. That doesn’t mean I’m gay or anything. Because I’m not. But, you know, it makes you look nice. Do you feel nice in it?
WOMAN: Yes.

(Beat.)

MAN: You going home?
WOMAN: Mmhmm.
MAN: You work in an office?
WOMAN: Yep.
MAN: Office jobs will kill you.
WOMAN: Ha.
MAN: Everybody thinks it’s 9-5, all the time, you know, but it’s not. I used to work at the World Trade Center, you know, I’d set up for meetings and calls and stuff, and you know what? Things would change. I’d set up and suddenly the meeting would be changed, and it’s like, it’s not everything, you know? It’s not everything.

(Beat.)

MAN: I truly think God saved my life. You know why?
WOMAN: Why?
MAN: If I’d still been working there, I’d be dead. But I lost my job because the Albanian mob was after me. They got me fired and came after me.

(Beat.)

MAN: Yeah, so God saved me, you know? Because I’d be dead if I’d been there, you know?
WOMAN: Yeah.
MAN: You want some chips?
WOMAN: No, thanks.
MAN: You have kids?
WOMAN: Nope.
MAN: That’s okay — you know what I say? You know what I say?
WOMAN: What?
MAN: Every woman is a mother. You know? It’s true.
WOMAN: Ha.
MAN: It’s true. Every woman is a mother, even if she don’t have kids. Because there’s nieces and nephews and cousins and kids that your friends got. You know? A mother’s job is never done.
WOMAN: Nice talking to you. Take care.
MAN: You, too.

(She gets up and exits at 181st Street.)

FIN.

Tonight Andrea and I went to see Micah and Nicholas, who together form the wonderful music duo The Gay Agenda, perform at “Porno Bingo” at the 9th Avenue Bistro.

“Porno Bingo” is a regular event that’s hosted by a retired, well-aging, and truly chatty porn star and features special guests from the adult film industry, the club scene, or wherever the Chatty Porn Star found Micah and Nicholas.

Now, Andrea and I are pretty serious about bingo, especially when the prize is gay porn. So we arrived early to snag two seats at the bar, order our well drinks, and spread out our bingo cards like the two old ladies from Boca Raton we are.

All proceeds from each “Porno Bingo” night go to benefit a GLBTQ charity, and tonight’s was Sylvia’s Place, a safe haven and resource for homeless GLTBQ teens. A worthy cause, yes, which factored slightly into how many cards we bought each round, but mainly we were in it for the goody bags of lube, free issues of Freshmen and Out in New Jersey, tawdry gay fiction — you know the kind, with shirtless chummy tennis pros on the cover who’ve fallen in love during a championship tour in Amsterdam, with titles like, All Balls On Court — and, yes, gay porn.

The adult film of the night was entitled Carnivale — “Carnivale: take a ride,” I whispered to Andrea; “Carnivale: the ride some people never get off,” she replied; “Yeah, we’re the people who never get off,” I shot back; zing!

Also, with every hundred dollars we raised for Sylvia’s Place, the guest go-go boy would remove one article of clothing.

Basically, the stakes were high.

And that’s when the chatting began. In between every number called, the Porn Star Host would flirt with the go-go boy, asking him about what it’s like to go to law school, or about his trip to Kenya this summer to help out in an orphanage — or he’d talk about his career in porn, and how his dick is seven inches and how that’s average in the porn world but big in the regular world, and so on. Each round took at least twenty minutes.

I mean, it would’ve been fine, but there was a game of bingo that needed to be played. I just wanted him to think of the homeless children. I know I was.

Anyway, long story short, Andrea and I didn’t win any of the three rounds we stayed for. But The Gay Agenda performed and after a shaky first two minutes — drunken gays are hard to corral — they knocked everybody’s socks off.

They were followed by a white gay rapper named Soce who was actually pretty fun. He got the entire bar to sing along to the chorus of his song “SMT,” which is a memory I will cling to when the nights get cold:

Suck my titty
Suck suck my titty titty
Suck my titty
Suck suck my titty titty
Suck my titty
Suck suck my titty titty
Suck on my titty baby
Suck on my titty

You can hear the song here if you’d like. It’s catchy, right? I’m going to hear it as I’m trying to sleep, I just know it.

And after that we left. When I got on the train, I wound up sitting across from this guy:

And how was your night?